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smileysuh · 11 days

Text

ghost house

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric. It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh. Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties. You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

tw/cw. Voyeurism, unprotected sex with a ghost, Hyuck is a repressed perv, he’s not a virgin but he’s not experienced either, pantie sniffer Hyuck, Hyuck watching y/n masturbate using ghost powers, Hyuck using y/n’s panties to cum in, weird ghost cum, Hyuck is a switch but leans more submissive at parts, self asphyxiation/choking, y/n punishes Hyuck for being a naughty ghostie, making Hyuck watch her masturbate without touching himself, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk/addict hyuck, overstimulation, hair pulling, hyuck cums and y/n decides to keep riding him, hyuck likes to be choked, dirty talk, hyuck has a good boy kink, praise kink, degradation/humiliation, finger sucking, face riding, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (Haechan’s) ghostie, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

🍭 aus. ghost!hyuck, witch!reader, supernatural au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've never written Hyuck this subby/switchy, but I think it worked, he still has his dom moments, but this man is a near virgin, little, repressed for 20 years ghost shit head who wants to be told he's a good boy, and I'm not even mad about it

Prologue:

“It’s a little unusual for prospective tenants to bring a pet along,” the shy man showing you the house murmurs, watching the way your cat follows you through the halls of the old building.

“Well, it’s important that Pluto likes it here,” you muse, casting your gaze down to your little dark shadow as he darts here and there, chasing orbs and specks of dust that illuminate in the rays of sun streaming through the murky windows. “How long has it been since you had a renter?”

“Too long,” Mark Lee sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I’m sure you know the reputation this place has.”

“It’s the Ghost House,” you respond, turning to stare at the relative of a man who’d lost his life in this location twenty or so years ago.

“My family hasn’t even tried to rent it out in recent years, but then you found me on Facebook and asked for a showing, I figured, what could it hurt?”

“I guess you don’t believe that this place is haunted?” you inquire, studying the tired, mundane man while Pluto curls around your feet.

“I haven’t spent enough time here to decide what I think,” Mark admits. “My family needs income, and if you’re willing to rent this place out, for half of what you could find anywhere else, we’d love for you to take it. Ghosts, or no ghosts.”

“I’m betting on the ghost aspect,” you tease, looking down at Pluto and following his gaze to a shadowy form at the end of the hall. “I’ll take it.”

One

You’ve been in your new Ghost House for over a month, and in that time, Hyuck has realized you’re no ordinary tenant.

It had started with the way your cat reacted to him, following him around, not scared in the slightest. And then, Hyuck had noticed the way you’d tracked your black cat Pluto with your own eyes, using the animal to try to focus in on Hyuck himself.

At first, he’d thought you were some sort of clairvoyant or wanna-be ghost hunter, but then, you’d pulled out a Grimoire and a cauldron and Hyuck had realized you were more along the lines of a witch.

When you’d first moved in, Hyuck had relished the idea of haunting you out of the house, but now he finds himself to be the one that’s haunted.

He can’t get a moment's peace without your cat following him all over the place, and where your cat goes, you quickly follow. Hyuck has taken to going to the attic, where the door can’t be pushed open by a determined kitty. He fucking hates the attic.

He’s sitting amidst some cobwebs, contemplating how badly he’d fucked up in life to get to this situation, when the attic door creaks on its hinges.

Your head pops through the hole. Your gaze shifts around, and Hyuck could swear your irises look exceptionally feline-esque when they land on him. “Why are you hiding?”

You can’t actually be talking to him. You can’t actually be seeing him- it shouldn’t be possible, and yet, here it is, happening.

“Come now, Donghyuck, are you skulking?”

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

“Is that any way to speak to a witch who’s here to help you?” you laugh.

You’d definitely heard him, and the realization makes a cold shiver run up his spine. Hyuck stands up, approaching you. He waits for you to flinch or pull away, but you don’t, you simply watch him until he’s a few feet away.

“How are you seeing me right now?” he asks.

“I’ve been testing out spells with personal objects of yours that I’ve stumbled upon in the house, nothing works quite like a photo, I’ve found,” you explain. “It’s good to finally see you. I’d hoped to meet you properly within the first week, but it’s been a whole month now of us living together, which feels awfully rude of me.”

“What’s rude is your stupid cat following me around everywhere.” When Hyuck takes a peek down the attic entry manhole, he finds your feline friend at the foot of the ladder, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Pluto is just doing his job, he was raised to see spirits. The Roman God of the Dead is his namesake after all.”

“The Roman God of the Dead?” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up in distaste. He flunked grade twelve, not that Roman deities were on the learning agenda.

“Forget about it, would you like to come down and talk with me for a while? Now that I can see you and communicate, I think we should have a chat.” You study him carefully. “Although, I will note that until I find a better spell, I’ll only be able to see you like this until your photo stops burning, which could be ten minutes or twenty.”

The pathological demand avoidance in Hyuck makes him want to refuse you, but at the same time, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in over twenty years, not since that night when everything had gone so wrong-

It helps that you’re a cute girl.

With a sigh, Hyuck agrees, following you down to the living room where he finds a makeshift alter, his picture in the center of it, its edges charred. The space smells like some sort of incense, Hyuck can’t pin it, and for the first time in twenty years, Hyuck actually feels something akin to fear.

As the Ghost of the House, Hyuck has always been the one with the power. He’s been the one who scared off the first few tenants with knocks late at night, phone calls in the early hours, and even wearing a sheet to scare off the children young enough to be susceptible to seeing him.

But in this situation, sitting on the nicest chair in the room, your cat lounging on your lap, Hyuck realizes that the power of a ghost is no match to that of a witch. You look like a Goddess, or a queen- energy radiating off of you now that you’re near your alter, and it makes Hyuck’s skin tingle.

“So?” Hyuck asks after sitting in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.

“So?” you echo, quirking a brow.

“Why are you here?” he clarifies with a huff of frustration. “Why are you trying so hard to communicate with me?”

“I’m mostly here because the rent is less than half of what I could get anywhere else, and it’s a whole house, so that felt like a no-brainer in this economy,” you laugh. “Although, seeing as you’ve been dead for over twenty years, I’m not going to give you a lesson on rent increase and the cost of living in this day and age. As a witch, I thought this would be a very interesting house to live in, and I’ve been trying to communicate with you, because the way I see it, you’re practically my roommate. We share this house, and I’d like for things to go smoothly.”

“Smoothly,” Hyuck lets out a laugh.

“If you’d rather I exhume your remains and send you to Hell, that can be arranged too.”

Hyuck feels his throat go dry.

“That’s what I thought,” you grin. “So what do you say, roommates?”

“Fine. But I’m tired of the attic.”

“You put yourself there,” you point out.

“Look, you be nice to me, I be nice to you,” Hyuck suggests. “Fair?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ghost boy.”

Two

Living with you actually isn’t so bad. Hyuck’s gotten used to Pluto following him around, but you generally keep to yourself, and he appreciates that trait.

Sure, you get up to witch mojo, and the house smells like all sorts of herbs and shit half the time, but Hyuck has taken to living mostly in the room that used to be his own. He prefers the south-facing space to the dark attic, and although life is boring most of the time, it’s still better than whatever afterlife Hyuck could expect as a man who accidentally took his own life at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Sometimes he likes to come see what you’re up to. He’s taken to watching you cook breakfast and dinner for yourself. You play music he’s never heard before, and the way you shake your hips always has his heart racing.

Pluto notifies you of his presence, but without an alter burning, he’s pretty sure you can only see his outline at best. You clearly don’t mind an audience, and Hyuck spends hours every week simply enjoying you.

It’s interesting to have a roommate that acknowledges him, a roommate that keeps the peace. But at the same time, part of Hyuck misses his old poltergeist ways.

You’ve reformed him. He’s a reformed ghost now, and Hyuck isn’t quite sure what to make of this peaceful living arrangement. It’s much more peaceful than things had been when he’d been alive.

He’d never had a girlfriend. Never had someone to create a sense of belonging, and somehow, he finds that much-needed peace with you. He wonders what life could have been like if he hadn’t taken those drugs that fateful night, if he hadn’t been so lonely that it hurt everywhere, if he hadn’t tried to dull the ache with pills.

“Come on, Donghyuck,” your voice draws him out of his pining thoughts, and you turn from the soup you’re making to stare in his general direction. “I can see your outline, dance with me. You always just stand there and stare, be a good Ghostie Boy, and shake your ass a little.”

Your words make Hyuck’s skin heat. He’s a ghost for Christ's sake, you can't go around objectifying him like this-

“Just a lil swivel,” you grin, showing him with your own hips.

Fuck. You’re hot. You’re so fucking hot, and Hyuck is tired of pretending you’re not.

He begins to shimmy, and he’s rewarded by a melodic giggle that escapes you and fills the kitchen. “That’s it,” you encourage him. “I know you’re not used to this kind of music, but it’s fun!”

Hyuck has to admit that he’s been enjoying the crash course in new media you’ve been giving him. From music to movies to books he haphazardly reads over your shoulders- this new age is something else, and it’s full of uncensored raunchy sex that makes him hornier than he’d ever been when he was alive.

The music you’re listening to is full of explicit lyrics, lyrics about eating pussy, and a pretty girl riding a man’s face- it’s been driving him wild, and in the late night hours, when you’re peacefully asleep one room over, Hyuck hasn’t been able to help himself.

He’s been stroking himself to the thought of you lately. He’s wondered what you’d taste like, what your body would feel like under his hands- He wonders what faces you’d make, the sounds-

This life is a little bit of Heaven, but a little bit of Hell too.

He can’t touch you, can’t taste you, can’t fuck you the way he’s been wanting to-

Leave it to him to fall in love with a sexy witch and add to his own torment.

Three

Hyuck can hear your whimpers through the wall. The sound makes his entire body tingle, and before he can stop himself, he’s shrugging his jeans down and wrapping his hand around his aching cock.

Your sex drive hasn’t been as… intense as his, in fact, he’s not sure if you’ve ever touched yourself since you moved in. Or maybe, you’ve just been quiet, it’s hard to tell.

When you’re in your room, Hyuck gives you privacy. Pluto would probably alert you to his presence if he ever did try to get a look at you naked, and Hyuck doesn’t want to risk your witchy wrath.

But tonight? Fuck, hearing your sounds makes him want to risk everything.

Going to Hell would be worth it for a look at your form.

The ghost shuffles closer to the wall, taking deep breaths as he strokes his aching cock.

One peak won’t hurt, will it?

Hyuck doesn’t often walk through walls or make use of his ghostly powers, but it’s simple enough for him to push his head through the wall. He just goes as far as his face, keeping himself half-suspended in the barrier between rooms.

Your space is dark aside from a few candles burning, and it takes Hyuck a moment for his eyes to adjust. His gaze lands on you, tangled amidst your bedsheets.

You’re naked, head dipped back against the pillows, one hand between your thighs while the other pinches at your nipples.

Fuck, Hyuck almost busts then and there. He has to stop the motions on his cock, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Pluto is nowhere to be seen, and with your eyes closed, the room mostly dark, Hyuck doubts you’d see his outline even if you did look directly at the one space along your wall that he’s watching from.

This is the perfect scenario for him, and he licks his lips as he watches the way you tease your clit, letting out soft whimpers.

You’re wet, Hyuck can see how wet you are, and it makes his mouth water with need. His cock throbs as he begins to slowly stroke it again, teasing his thumb along the tip.

The way you’re pinching at your nipples is making the ghost want to mark you up with his teeth. He wants to bury his face in your chest and lick you, sucking your perky-looking buds until you’re begging for him-

A movement of your other hand captures his attention, and Hyuck watches as you slide one finger into your core, releasing a moan that has his entire body shaking.

One digit quickly becomes two, and as you stroke your inner walls, the sound of your wet heat becomes audible to the fly on the wall, who pumps his shaft even harder.

Your hips begin to wiggle against your own touch, and Hyuck wonders how good you’d look on top of him, writhing against his cock-

You release your breast in favor of playing with your clit, both hands now between your beautiful thighs. From the sounds escaping you, Hyuck thinks you’re close, and his entire body aches. He tries to slow himself down, he wants to match your speed, wants to reach that climax with you-

Something brushes by Hyuck’s leg and he jumps, tearing himself out of your room to look down at the cat who’s appeared by his foot. “Fuck, not now, Pluto,” he hisses.

Pluto purs in response, and with an exasperated sigh, Hyuck decides to ignore your cat. Fuck it, he needs to cum, and he needs to be watching you cum-

Pushing his face back into your room, Hyuck manages to catch you just in time to see your back arch. A soft gasp of contentment leaves your lips, your hands shaking as your orgasm rushes over you-

Hyuck can’t help himself, his own body simply reacts, his cock throbbing intensely as his own release hits him. He bites down on his lip, pumping his shaft with his eyes glued to your form.

You ride out your orgasms together, and yet, apart.

You’re a scary witch, but you’re none the wiser about the ghost voyeur committing every one of your movements to memory.

Finally, Hyuck can’t take the sensation anymore, and he stops, pulling his head out of your room. He’s no stranger to ghost cum, it’s this odd, translucent goo-

When he looks down after pulling up his pants, Hyuck realizes he’s sprayed the wall, and narrowly missed Pluto, but the cat is looking at his spunk as if he can see it-

Hyuck’s never had an animal in the house before. He knows that usually, his ghost jizz disappears after a while, but if the cat were to try to touch it-

“Pluto, no!” Hyuck whispers, trying to block the animal with his hands.

The cat has brushed by Hyuck before, so Hyuck’s pretty sure the cat won’t go through his hands-

Instead, Pluto tries to go around Hyuck’s hands, and the ghost’s heart lurches in his cold chest.

“Fuck, stop!” he says, voice getting louder.

The cat meows obnoxiously, and Hyuck hears a sound in your room-

Hyuck doesn’t have time for this, he’s not about to get caught one room over after you’ve just orgasmed. The ghost does the only thing he can think of doing, he jumps down to the ground to hide behind the bed.

Luckily, Pluto seems more interested in him than his ghost cum on the wall, and begins to follow. The bedroom door is pushed open, drawing Pluto’s attention from following Hyuck.

“Pluto?” you call. “What are you doing in here?”

Hyuck can feel his heart in his throat, and he cowers further under the bed, afraid that if you see any of his shadowy figure, you’ll exorcize him or something.

There’s a few moments of tight tension, and then Pluto pads away from Hyuck to join you at the door.

“Silly kitty,” you coo, picking up your pet. “Let’s go make you some dinner.”

The door closes behind you and Hyuck lets out a deep breath.

That had been much too close for him.

Four

It’s been about a week since Hyuck watched you finger fuck yourself to completion, and he’s doing his best to avoid you. He gets a half-chub every time he looks at you for Christ’s sake, and while part of him feels justified in his voyeurism - he is a ghost after all - another part of him feels dirty about it.

Hyuck feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders every time you leave the house, and today, he watches you get into your car and drive off before he heads to your room. He’s been curious about a few things, but you hardly ever leave the property, so he hasn’t had the time and the balls to follow his wishes until now.

Your bedroom door is closed, and it’s as easy as stepping through it for Hyuck to invade your space.

He tries to calm himself, tries to take his time looking at items you’ve collected. There’s a stack of books that thrum with power, he stays away from them. Jewels and crystals litter a vanity table also covered in various perfume bottles, and Hyuck bends down to smell one, overcome by the scent of florals that always follows you through the house. Lastly, Hyuck goes over to the laundry hamper.

The ghost is overjoyed by what greets him. Sitting on top of a pile of sweaters, is a lacy thong. Hyuck sinks to his knees, bending over the hamper and bringing his nose as close to the panties as possible. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing as the scent overwhelms him: this is so much better than florals.

Now he really feels dirty, but there’s something so freeing in it. He’s a dirty little ghostie, and Hyuck is beginning to revel in it.

He’s been a spirit for so many years, and he’s gotten adept at poltergeist-type activity. Sure, he’s usually only ever used it to throw books around, or open cupboards, or… you know, wear bedsheets to scare the shit out of the kids who show up and trespass around Halloween, but… grabbing a pair of panties shouldn’t be that hard.

With a shaky hand, Hyuck reaches into the hamper. He focuses his energy to his fingertips, and after a deep breath, when he touches your panties, he can feel the lace. Hyuck lifts the fabric out of the hamper, collapsing onto his knees next to it and shimmying his pants down.

Then, he wraps his panty-clad hand around his cock, throwing his head back to let out a sigh of relief. There’s something so sexy about jacking off using your underwear as friction- there’s a small, juicy spot along the fabric, and Hyuck’s majorly tempted to lick at it, but he feels like that’s a line he shouldn’t cross.

Instead, he pumps his cock harder, letting out soft whimpers. Hyuck’s head lolls forward again, chin tucked down to his chest. His eyes open so he can stare at your cute panties as he strokes himself off with them, and the sight alone has his dick twitching.

Hyuck grits his teeth, his abdominal muscles flexing with effort. He can’t help but rut toward his hand now, and each stroke of your lacey thong against his aching cock has him closer and closer-

There’s a sound downstairs, and it makes Hyuck’s heart leap in his chest. You’re home again already?

He tightens his grip on his length, determined to cum before he gets caught. He can’t stop now, not when he’s so close to a much-needed release-

As the sound of you coming up the stairs limits his time more and more, the idea of getting caught actually adds to Hyuck’s pleasure. Before he knows what he’s doing, one of Hyuck’s hands is raising to his throat. He throws his head back, applying just a bit of pressure- it’s enough to have him grunting, the cord in his stomach snapping as his orgasm takes over.

Waves of pleasure wash through his entire body, his grip tightening on his throat and making it all the more intense. He can feel his spunk shooting onto your panties, which he holds over his tip as he pumps his aching cock, getting out every last drop-

He can hear you humming as you come down the hall, and in Hyuck’s post-orgasmic haze, he doesn’t have time to think. He simply drops your panties on the floor and stumbles to his feet, stepping through the wall just as your door opens.

He collapses again in the other room, pulling up his pants and trying to catch his breath.

Five

It had been a quick run to get cat food for Pluto, and when you arrive back at your room, you hardly even notice that something is out of place. First, you open your blinds, peaking out at the evening setting sun. Then you go to sit on your bed to take off your socks, as you’re about to toss them to your hamper, you notice something on the floor.

It’s a pair of your lacy panties, and you’re a hundred percent sure they hadn’t been on the floor when you’d left.

With your bedroom door closed, Pluto couldn’t have gotten into your things, which leaves one culprit.

Hyuck.

You’ve suspected the ghost has had a growing crush on you for a while, after all, he is a man who’s been alone in this house for years, but this is your first real evidence of it.

You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric.

It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh.

Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties.

You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

For a moment, you simply stare at your panties, and then, you decide to do something about it. Going to your Grimoire, you open to a page bookmarked by multiple photos. They’re pictures of Hyuck that you’d found in the attic. You’d saved them for a rainy day when you’d need to contact him with a full-body apparition again, and it looks like today is the day.

Grabbing the largest one, you take the photo and your Grimoire down to the alter in the living room. While you have an alter of sorts in your bedroom, the one powered by the direct sun on your table by the south-facing window is the most appropriate for something like this.

You make quick work of a spell to bind the ghost to the waking world, and with a last few sprinkles of spices and some dried herbs, you place the photo in the center, using a lighter along the bottom edge.

“Hyuck?” you call, turning toward the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

You hear someone whisper, “Fuck,” and you turn to see Hyuck scampering toward the staircase.

“Are you seriously going to make me chase you?”

“Don’t exorcize me!” he screams, taking the stairs two at a time.

His words make you laugh. “I have a different type of exercise planned,” you retort, but it doesn’t do anything to slow him down. “Seriously, Hyuck, calm down!”

You make it to the second level, and you know where he’s snuck into. He may have closed the door quietly, but you’ve lived with the ghost long enough to know which room he’s staked a claim over.

Taking an amused breath, you knock gently. “Hyuck,” you sing-song, “I’m not mad. Just let me in.”

“You’re gonna exorcize me.”

You sigh again. “Hyuck, open this door, right now.”

You hate to use your dommy-mommy voice on him, but he’s trying your patience, and you only have as long as it takes for his photo to burn, which, due to your magic, probably gives you about half an hour, give or take.

“If you do not open this door, I will open it for you, and your punishment will be worse,” you warn him.

A moment later, the door creaks open ajar, and you push it the rest of the way.

“I’m sorry,” Hyuck tells you, standing there with his shoulders hunched.

“For what?” you enquire, leaning on the frame and crossing your arms over your chest.

“For running.”

“And?” you prompt.

“For uh…” you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, bowing his head, “for uh… using your panties.”

“Using them how?” You’re kind of enjoying watching him like this. He might have his own weird kinks, but this might just be one of your own.

“Well, you know…” his skin is turning pink.

“I don’t know. I want you to tell me what you did with them. Don’t leave out a single detail you bad ghost boy.”

Hyuck’s gaze lifts to meet yours, but he’s quick to look away again. “Well, I mean, I was just looking at them at first.”

“At first. And then what?”

“Well, I just wanted to touch them.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “I bet you wrapped them around your cock and jerked off with them, didn’t you?”

Hyuck’s ears have turned pink now, and when his hands go in front of his body, you realize he’s trying to hide a half-chub that’s growing in his pants.

The little freak is into this.

God, he’s endearing.

“Admit it,” you instruct. “If you admit it, I’ll go easy on you.”

Hyuck takes a breath. “Yes, I used your panties to cum.”

You study the ghost.

“Good boy,” you say finally. His eyes lift to meet yours, his lips parting. “Come to my room.”

You don’t wait for him to respond, you simply turn and expect him to follow. When you get to your room, you collapse onto the bed.

“Close the door,” you instruct next. “Be a good boy and light my candles for me too.”

As he begins to follow through with your commands, you stretch, letting out a sigh from the feeling of your tight muscles. Then, you lift off your shirt, tossing it at Hyuck while his back is to you, his fingers fumbling with a lighter.

Hyuck freezes, then turns to look at you.

“Have you watched me before, dirty ghostie?” you ask, going to remove your pants next.

The way he swallows tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, you are a bad, naughty, dirty, little ghostie, aren’t you, Hyuck?” you grin, tossing your jeans at him.

Laying in your bra and panties, you watch him finish lighting your candles, then he comes to stand at the foot of the bed, clearly waiting on instruction. He’s trying to cover the front of his pants again, and it makes you laugh.

“Move your hands,” you tell him. “You know, honestly, I’m a little surprised at how easy it was for you to get hard again. You came, what? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

He’s so bashful he can hardly answer, and it’s an adorable sight.

“Here are the rules,” you say, “I’m going to make myself cum. After that, I’ll let you make me cum. And if you can get through all of that teasing without touching yourself, if you can prove to me you’re a good ghostie who can follow instructions, I’ll fuck you. How does that sound?”

Hyuck’s gaze watches your hand slip between your thighs, your legs opening wider, and he unconsciously licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay… mistress?”

You laugh at his attempt to please you. “I was looking for a thank you.”

“Right, yeah, thank you, I can follow instructions,” he fumbles to correct himself.

“Then be a good boy and put your hands behind yourself. I don’t want you touching anything. Don’t want you covering anything either, got it?” Your words come out breathy as you begin to stroke your core through your panties. “I especially don’t want to see your hands all shaky, that’s just embarrassing, ghost boy.”

Why are you enjoying this so much? Why are you enjoying the degradation of a man who died over twenty years ago?

From Hyuck’s reactions it’s clear he’s never been spoken to like this. Sure, domination and submission were things back in the day, but there must be something about your specific 2020’s brand of degradation-

Hyuck slots his hands behind his back, letting out a deep breath.

“Good boy,” you coo, pushing your panties to the side so you can touch your pussy directly. Teasing him like this has already made you extremely wet, and it’s easy for you to glide your digits up and down your soaked slit, drawing soft circles on your clit.

“Can you see from there, ghost boy?” you sigh, spreading your legs even wider.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t like Mistress or Ma’am,” you admit.

“I’m sorry.”

If you got him to call you Goddess you’d risk hubris, so instead, you tell him, “Call me princess.”

You’d considered ‘Angel’ as a term of endearment, but with the deities you pay tribute to, even that had felt like a step too far. No, Princess works- You feel like a royal girlie who’s having fun with a servant boy, abusing the power you hold over him, for mutual benefit.

“Okay, princess,” Hyuck breathes, and you can tell from his reaction that he enjoys the feeling of the word on his tongue.

You like the sound of it coming from him too, and you throw your head back, getting more comfortable against the pillows. You tease one of your fingers into your wet hole, stroking your sensitive inner walls.

Hyuck lets out a shaky gasp, and you grin to yourself, keeping your eyes closed so you can enjoy the sensation. Although that doesn’t stop you from saying in a sing-song voice, “You better not be touching yourself, ghost boy.”

“I’m not, princess, I promise.”

“Good ghostie,” you coo slipping another finger into your pussy. You open your eyes to look at him. His gaze is fixed on your core, and he’s got his bottom lip pinned between his teeth. “Is it a nice view?”

“The best view in the whole world,” Hyuck breathes, almost panting.

“Should I make myself cum so you can finally touch me?”

“Fuck, yes please, fuck, yes-” Hyuck’s eyes meet yours, and you see the desperation, it’s practically throbbing off of him in waves. “Please, princess, I wanna watch you cum.”

“You’re being such a good ghostie for me,” you muse, pulling your fingers from your core and holding them out for him, “Come here, have a taste.”

Hyuck falls onto his knees on the foot of your mattress, grabbing your hand with both of his and drawing your digits to his mouth. He sucks on them, his eyes fixed on yours as his tongue licks and strokes your skin, cleaning up every drop of your juices.

“Now back to your spot,” you prompt, pulling your hand away. “The moment I cum, you can join.”

You watch him swallow thickly, and while he doesn’t talk back, Hyuck is clearly reluctant to get back to his feet, standing at the edge of the bed and watching you.

His hands go behind his back, and when he’s in proper form, you slowly slip your panties down your legs. Then, you throw them directly at him. They land on his shoulder, and Hyuck turns to look at them, breathing deeply.

He’s rock hard in his pants now, and the sight turns you on as you bring both hands to your core. You begin to finger yourself while you rub tight circles on your clit, your toes curling at the sensation.

“Hyuck,” you whimper, arching your back, building the pressure deep in the pit of your abdomen.

“Princess-” he echoes, sounding even more desperate than you are.

You open your eyes, staring directly at Hyuck as you work yourself closer and closer-

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him. “Fuck, I’m almost there, almost there, baby-”

Hyuck releases a moan at the new pet name, and you can see him twitching. He’s doing his best to follow your instruction about not moving until you’ve cum, but you can see it’s getting harder and harder-

You let out a gasp, your orgasm slamming into you, and that’s when Hyuck finally pounces.

He wastes no time jumping onto the bed, burying his face between your legs while his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. His mouth devours your core as your orgasm surges through you, and each lick and suck has you crying out, muscles tensing as Hyuck intensifies your high.

Your fingers thread in his hair, and he groans when you tug on him, unrelenting in his task of eating you through your orgasm. The ghost is eating you like a man who’s been starved of pussy for twenty years, and you suppose that’s accurate, so can you really hold the whole pantie-sniffing thing against him?

You’re not sure how he does it, but one orgasm that you’d given yourself quickly becomes a second orgasm that Hyuck has coaxed out of you by sucking on your clit, and you gasp loudly as it slams into you, riding the tail end of the first high.

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” you whimper, thighs tensing around Hyuck’s head-

He simply pushes them apart, tongue diving into your hole to stroke your walls as they spasm around him. Hyuck groans, and the feeling of the vibration on your clit has you whimpering even louder, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Hyuck-” you moan, pushing at his head, “I’m done, that was two-”

“I want three,” he tells you, taking his mouth from your pussy so he can suck marks along your inner thighs. “Can I have three? I’ve been a good ghostie for you.”

“You can have three when you bury your cock inside of me,” you tell him with a laugh, your body still buzzing in the after-effects of two orgasms that had happened in quick succession.

“I want three now, and four when I’m fucking you stupid, princess.”

Well, this is a switch-up.

He’d been so subby before, but one taste of your pussy has him trying to be more dominant? Fuck it, you don’t even mind, the words that have just come out of his mouth are too hot to even handle, so you let out a small, whimpered, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he prompts, teeth grazing your inner thigh.

“Make me cum one more time with your mouth before you fuck me.”

Hyuck doesn’t waste any time swiping his tongue along your slit again. He flicks at your clit and your thighs shake around his head, your nails dragging softly against his scalp.

Your hips begin to wiggle, and Hyuck looks up at you, holding out his tongue and staying still so you can grind against him. You toss your head back, closing your eyes as you ride his tongue, using him for your own pleasure.

Hyuck groans, tilting forward just enough for his nose to bump your clit, and your muscles clench at the stimulus. You’re sensitive after two orgasms, but fuck, Hyuck feels so good.

“I just want you to fuck me,” you confess, relaxing back against the bed again while Hyuck takes the cue to begin to lick your pussy. “Make me cum so you can fuck me.”

Hyuck practically growls in response, his lips suctioning around your clit. Your legs quiver around his head, thighs squishing in on him- this time, instead of pushing you away and spreading you open, Hyuck allows you to practically crush his skull, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, body beginning to shake as he focuses all his attention on your clit.

There’s no pushing the ghost away, no crushing his head with your thighs- he’s locked in on his target, and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

Your moans fill the space, your back arching as he sucks your clit closer and closer to another high-

Then, out of the blue, one of his hands snakes up to your throat. Hyuck adjusts so he can squeeze your neck, his tongue flicking at your clit, his breath hot against your skin-

The pressure on your throat makes your entire body freeze for a moment, mind short-circuiting- and when you’re able to think again, all you can think about is the pulsing between your thighs as your orgasm crashes into you like a bullet train.

You whimper, the sound obstructed in part by the hand still gripping your throat. Your own hands fly to Hyuck’s wrist, encouraging him to apply even more pressure as you begin to thrash under his touch. Your hips are bucking toward his face, your pussy throbbing like it’s never throbbed before- and there’s not even anything filling you.

Your clit feels amazing, but your poor inner walls have been neglected, you’re aching for something to throb around, aching for an intrusion in your sinfully wet hole-

“Hyuck, please,” you gasp, letting out a shuddery breath when he pulls his mouth from your core, looking up at you. “I need-”

He squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. Then he begins to kiss up your body, finally making it to your lips. He stops just a millimeter away, looking down at you as he releases your neck. It’s as if - even after all of this - he’s asking for permission.

You throw your arms around the back of his throat, tugging him the final distance to your mouth. His tongue clashes against your own, and you can taste your pussy there. Your core throbs, and Hyuck begins to grind down against you, rolling his hips expertly.

“Fuck,” you groan, breaking the kiss so you can shove your hands between your bodies, pushing at his pants.

Hyuck, meanwhile, begins to mark up your neck in love bites, his fingers slipping under your back so he can unclasp your bra and tear it off.

You’re naked for him now, and you make quick work of his pants, briefs, and shirt. You’re caught in a whirlwind of need, kisses, and touches. Finally, he’s slotting himself between your thighs again. This time, when he grinds against you, his bare cock glides past your clit, and your legs shake, your fingers clawing at him.

“Do it,” you encourage him, gasping as he kisses your throat. One of your hands snakes into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Fuck me.”

Hyuck reaches between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock. He begins to tease his head along your pussy lips and you both groan at the feeling. “Princess-” he moans.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m ready, I can take it. You’ve been such a good ghostie being patient for me and making me cum- it’s your turn. Use me, baby, fill me up.”

He’s panting against your neck, and he pulls back to look down at you. You can tell there’s hesitancy, but a need too, and when you grab the nape of his neck to draw his lips to yours, you feel his body immediately relax.

He presses the tip of his cock to your tight hole, and as he kisses you, he begins to push into your pussy.

You groan at the feeling of him. For an average-sized man, his cock is no laughing matter. He’s thick, stretching out your inner walls with each inch that sinks into you.

Your thighs quake around his hips, and Hyuck licks at your tongue, moaning and kissing you until his front is flush with your own.

Only then does he break the kiss, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Princess-”

“I know, baby, it feels good for me too,” you assure him.

He grabs at the pillow next to your head, squeezing it roughly while letting out a shuddery breath.

Your pussy is still throbbing, trying to accommodate his large size, and when he buries his face against your throat, beginning to thrust, your entire body lights up with pleasurable energy.

“Fuck,” you groan, closing your eyes and stroking his shoulders, “Just like that.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you harder and harder until your bed begins to rock against the wall with each rough motion from his hips.

Hyuck continues his barrage on your throat, licking your sweet spot while you mewl into his ear, holding him tight. One of his hands sneaks up between your bodies, grabbing at your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and panting against your skin.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, pussy throbbing around him, earning a deep groan.

“I don’t know if I can hold it,” he admits, pulling away to look down at you with beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Then don’t hold it,” you tell him. “Just don’t assume we’re done when you’re done.”

His gaze darkens, his plump lips parting in a silent question. Instead of saying anything else, you draw him in for a kiss, wrapping your legs tight around his hips.

The hand that had been on your breast finds your free hand, fingers lacing as he presses you down into the mattress, fucking you even harder.

Each thrust has him hitting perfect spots, and the way he’s rolling your hips adds stimulus to your clit, which throbs with sensitivity.

The throaty moans escaping him are driving you mental, and the way his tongue strokes your own has you dizzy with lust.

Your other hand tangles in his pretty hair, tugging gently, dragging his mouth away from yours so you can begin to speckle his throat with kisses.

Hyuck lets out an absolutely sinful moan, and you realize he’s very sensitive in this area. It makes you want to make it even more, so you begin to suck small purple marks into his flesh while he shakes above you, bicep muscles flinching with effort.

“Keep fucking me,” you remind him. “Want you to cum.”

Hyuck squeezes your hand, his pace picking up again.

“That’s it, ghost boy,” you coo, licking his throat. “Cum for your princess.”

He lets out a strangled gasp, thrusts faltering. A moment later you can feel his cum filling you up, and it makes you moan, your core throbbing with desperation. You need one more high, and you’re sure he’ll help you get it.

Hyuck rides out his orgasm, and then he collapses on top of you, his lips seeking out your own.

You allow him to kiss you for a while, cock still buried deep inside of you. Then, you begin to stroke his body again, making him shiver.

“Can you roll onto your back for me, ghost boy?” you prompt, looking up into his eyes.

Hyuck is quick to comply, and you can tell from the way his lips part, that he’s not expecting you to mount him as soon as he’s on his back. You put his cock back inside of you before any cum can drip out, and you sit there, staring down at him with your hands on his chest.

“Your recharge time is pretty good, isn’t it, ghost boy?” you tease, gently rolling your hips while he whines, grabbing your thighs from the sensitivity. “I bet I could just kiss you for a few minutes, and you’d be rock hard again in no time.”

“Princess-”

“You want to please me, don’t you, baby?” You trail a finger down his chest, teasing your nails across his abdomen and watching the muscles jump there under your touch.

“Yes,” he admits.

“And I think we both deserve to cum one more time, don’t you?”

He nods again.

You lean over him, pretending you’re about to kiss him, as his eyes flutter shut, lips parting in anticipation- you push his face to the side, attacking his neck instead.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, grabbing at your hips, squeezing you.

“Such a sensitive neck,” you muse, lips moving to his ear where you lick the shell, enjoying the way he shudders. “I wonder if I just…” you slip one hand up his chest, and Hyuck immediately arches his head, giving you full access to wrap your fingers around his throat. “That’s what I thought.”

Hyuck whimpers below you, hips pushing up, looking for friction-

“Did that make you hard, ghostie?” you laugh, sitting up and looking down at him. “Just a little choking and you’re already good to go again?”

This poor man has been repressed- you’re happy you’re the one who gets to free him.

You begin to slowly move your hips, and Hyuck lets out a desperate moan, arching his head back even more. You tighten your grip on his throat and he responds by digging his fingers into your hips, urging you to ride him faster.

He looks so good like this.

Then, one of his hands moves, his thumb finding your clit. Your core throbs around him and you both moan loudly. Hyuck opens his eyes, looking up at you.

“You’re being so good for me,” you tell him, rutting faster on his cock. “Make your princess cum.”

He rubs your clit harder, beginning to buck up to meet you while you ride him.

Then, Hyuck pushes your hand from his neck, sitting up so he can latch his mouth onto your breast. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around your lower back and moving you on his cock. His teeth skim your nipple and you cry out, threading your hands in his hair and moaning in his ear.

He groans in response. This new angle has your clit rubbing against him, and you ride yourself to an intense completion, your head thrown back when your orgasm rushes over you.

As you cum, Hyuck flips you onto your back, taking over and thrusting into you with newfound energy. Your pussy throbs around him as he fucks you stupid, and when he buries his face against your throat, marking your skin, he cums too.

You can feel him shoot a second load deep inside of you, coating your walls to the point of nearly being too full, but part of you kind of loves it.

You hold him as he fucks you through your highs, listening to his panting and whining.

Finally, he stops, all but collapsing on top of you, lips feverish against your skin.

You pet his hair, trying to catch your breath.

You’re cognizant of the fact that you don’t have all the time in the world for aftercare, and you’d rather talk with Hyuck now than address a shadow.

“Ghostie?” you whisper.

He releases a grunt.

“We don’t have much time left,” you say sadly.

He pulls away from your throat, looking down at you.

“Listen,” you cup his face, “being interested in a ghost the way I’m interested in you has never been something I saw for myself in this life,” you admit. “But, I am interested in you. I only have so many pictures of you that I can use to make you physical like this, but I’m going to find something to make this longer lasting, I promise. Until I do… I’m okay with you sniffing my panties, or watching me masturbate, or anything you want-”

Hyuck cracks a smile at your words, and you find yourself giggling as well.

“So you’re not going to exorcize me?” he jokes.

“Never ever,” you promise.

“You’re going to find a way for us to be together,” the ghost says softly.

“If anyone could find a way, it’s a witch like me,” you assure him, leaning up to press your lips against his.

He kisses you gently, and you get lost in it.

You’re not sure how long you stay lip-locked, but after a while, the feeling of his lips disappears. You open your eyes to find yourself alone, well- you can still see a shadow of him, but his warmth is gone, and the sensation of his kisses too.

You sigh. “I’ll find a way, ghostie,” you promise.

You’d like to think he responded, maybe with a word of encouragement, but there’s no way to know for sure.

Rolling onto your side, you imagine him behind you, close but unable to physically touch.

Leave to a witch to fall in love with a ghost.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! writing this style of Hyuck was way too satisfying

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. Hyuck kisses you, grabbing your face as he does so. You can taste something unsaid on his tongue, but you do your best to ignore it as he pulls you from the sink, turning you around until your bum hits the island table. He lifts you up, setting you onto the old wood, then, he sinks to his knees. You’re wearing a dress, Hyuck loves dresses, they make it easy for him to have access to your pussy. He’s downright kitty obsessed these days, lifting up your skirt just enough to get under it. His lips make contact with your panty clad core and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on your palms and letting your head fall backward.

cw/ tw. Dominant leaning switchy Hyuck, unprotected ghost sex, kitchen sex, sex on a table, pussy eating, fingering, pussy obsessed Hyuck, slight ghost angst, hair pulling, choking, praise, dirty talk, kitchen quickie, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of dark magic/bones, panties as a gag, finger sucking, sex while wearing a dress, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess (his) baby

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Hyuck x afab!reader

bonus

The answer to your ghost conjuration problem had been shockingly simple. If burning a picture could draw Hyuck to your existence for as long as it was alight, you realized that burning one of his bones would last substantially longer.

Most crematoriums burn bones at 1000 degrees Celsius for two or three hours. At a much lower temperature, using a Bunsen burner set to 300 degrees, you could burn one small fragment for a lot longer.

The worst part was going to the graveyard across town, with no one but Pluto as company, under the light of the moon in the dead of night to exhume Hyuck’s body. It’s been so long since his death that you weren’t worried about finding anything other than bones in the casket, and with a spell, you didn’t even have to put in the effort to dig- but something about uncovering Hyuck’s supposed ‘final resting place’ just hadn’t sat right with you.

You’d been aware, as you had driven home with a bag full of bones, that you were teetering on the side of a darker shade of magic. But for love, you decided not to care.

The first night you’d lit up a small bone, Hyuck had appeared right behind you, and the two of you had fucked on the floor right next to the altar.

It’s been three or four months since you began to burn Hyuck’s bones, and your lust for each other hasn’t diminished.

He’s insatiable, and you are too.

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Note

Hi luv! I love your writing and I was wondering if you Could write some smut for Johnnie guilbert where she is just super turned on by him playing the guitar especially his fingers iykyk

Take care<3

Be My Guitar

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Summary: Above with a little added spice ;)

Pairing: Johnnie x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f), hickeys, making out, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, fluffy ending

Word Count: 950

A/N: Thank you for the request! I loved this one so much because I'm a Johnnie WHORE :p

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

You had always loved chill evenings with your boyfriend, and tonight was no exception. Johnnie was sat at his streaming desk, strumming softly on his acoustic guitar. He was trying to figure out some chords and a strumming pattern for a new song, and you had taken it upon yourself to help him “body double”, and so, you were laying on your shared bed, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up from your phone, admiring how beautiful your boyfriend was. His long, black hair had fallen softly in his face as his tongue poked out slightly with concentration, running over his black lip rings. Clad in soft, red and black pajama pants and a faded old band tee, Johnnie looked so beyond handsome in your eyes. Slowly, your eyes moved from his body and zoned in on his fingers. They flew across the frets gracefully, displaying years upon years of practice on his guitar. The more you watched, the more turned on you became, noticing how your boyfriend’s fingers could work a variety of speeds and rhythms.

“Johnnie,” You hummed, a playful purr in your voice. “I have a question for you.”

“What’s up, baby?” he turned towards you, a soft smile on his face.

He didn’t quit strumming his guitar as he spoke to you, which just caused the ache between your legs to continue to throb as your mind ran wild with X-rated fantasies involving his hands.

“Do you ever do like, finger exercises to help you play?” You smirked.

Johnnie must not have caught your gist. He stood up, putting his guitar on the stand and coming to join you on the bed. “Yeah, sometimes. Why?” he asked, sitting beside you and cocking his head.

“Oh…just wondering,” You smiled, placing your hand on his thigh and slowly moving upwards towards his crotch. “No reason.”

Your boyfriend seemed to have finally caught what you were getting at, his face flushing bright red. “...oh…”

You giggled, enjoying making him blush. “Would you like to do some now, Johnnie? I think it would really help with your new song, my love?” You ran a finger under his chin, a soft, feminine smirk on your face.

Johnnie immediately attached his lips to yours, pushing you back against the soft pillows as he began to make out with you. He began to grind his hips on top of yours as he kissed you, making your lower stomach clench with want. You knew he was getting back at you for the teasing as he began to run his hands up and down your body, his fingers gracefully dancing across your skin.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ good.” he moaned, savoring your lips before moving across your jawline and down your neck, leaving soft hickeys on your skin.

“Johnnie,” You whimpered. “I need you…need your hands on me.”

Your boyfriend kissed down your neck, across your breasts, and down your stomach, before using his teeth to pull down your leggings and underwear. He left soft kisses on your lower stomach and hips, taking his dear sweet time as your ‘payback’. Finally, he used his hands to spread your thighs, running his hands up and down the warm skin, but not missing the way you shivered and whimpered.

“Oh baby,” he hummed. “You’re already so soaked for me. Did watching me play do this to you, hmm? Make you have dirty fantasies about being a guitar?”

You whimpered, running your hands across his fabric clad back. “Mhm,” You moaned, your pussy already throbbing with need for an orgasm and he hadn’t even really touched you yet. “Wanna cum all over your fingers.”

Johnnie tsked. “Not yet,” he pouted. “I haven’t even had any fun yet.”

As he said that, your boyfriend began to rub his thumb across your already swollen clit, beating out a rhythm that made you want to scream. You moved your hands from Johnnie’s back to his hair, tangling your hands in his black locks. As he sped up his movements, he slowly inserted one finger into you, pumping them in and out in a soft manner.

“Oh my god,” You whimpered out, already becoming overstimulated from the fingering and the penetration. “Oh my god.”

“Does that feel good?” he cooed, adding another finger into your already dripping slit. “Filling you up with my fingers that you were so horny for?” he asked, going faster and harder on your clit with his thumb.

Johnnie could tell he struck a nerve with the new rhythm, because you whimpered and moaned out, your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Need to cum.” You whined.

Your boyfriend added one more finger, just for the sake of stretching you out before speaking. “Go ahead, my love. Cum all over my fingers.”

You did as told, immediately letting go and releasing all over Johnnie’s fingers as you moaned out his name. The ache that had been building in your stomach since you had watched him play guitar had finally released, and you fell back against the pillows, utterly exhausted and your legs shaking.

Johnnie ran his tongue along your pussy, using his mouth to clean you up, before licking his lips and speaking. “You’re such a good girl, my love. Took my fingers like a champ.” he hummed, laying down and pulling you into him in a spooning position.

Luckily, you had already been wearing one of his oversized shirts, so you didn’t bother with getting up. You just cuddled into his chest, yawning and mumbling nonsensical things. The last thing Johnnie heard before you fell asleep was “I love you…and your fingers.”, which definitely made him chuckle as he kissed your forehead and laid down beside you.

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fushipurro · 4 months

Text

All That I Wanna Hear

☆ Synopsis: It's halloween night in 2018 and while you're home enjoying a good horror movie to pass the time, you get a text from someone claiming to be your long deceased husband. Your current partner isn't all that thrilled once he finds out, but soon the night turns into more than ghosts and goblins.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst all in one, breeding kink, creampie, praise kink, oral sex, established relationships, pet names, threesome, anal, foreplay, slight hurt/comfort, shameless smut, porn with plot, i meme a lot in this, toji and satoru bicker a LOT

☆ Word Count: 5.5k

unknown sender daddy long dick just landed in shinjuku baby, where you at, mama?

you excuse me?

unknown sender shit doll, you didn't change your number, did ya? it's toji.

you that's a sick joke, asshole

you at first thought it was just some kids having fun. it's halloween, right? the time for pranking others even if the "joke" is downright cruel.

hell, even satoru was playing into it when you got a notification of 10 million yen being added to your bank account on top of at least 500 missed calls from the same man and more coming.

he's supposed to be out chaperoning some of his students for some halloween fun in shinjuku. his group consisting of your two kids megumi and tsumiki along with a few others you've come to love like your own from their school.

you offered to come along with them to enjoy the festivities, but satoru insisted that you stayed home, all bundled up on the couch watching all your favorite movies and what not. a "well deserved break" he called it.

over the years he's done similar things ever since you first met him twelve years ago when life as you knew it completely shattered into a million pieces. instead of your husband coming home, you were greeted by a grim reaper clad in white hair and a school uniform.

before even attempting to respond to the flurry of notifications, yet another call from said reaper came blaring through with their face front and center. your own throat felt like it was closing in on you, desperate and grasping for air as every emotion fought to escape you. you picked up the phone, finally hitting that green button and instantly hearing the frantic voice of the man on the other end.

"you're home, right? stay where you are, i'm coming over right away."

"what's going on satoru? are the kids okay? what's with the money, the calls, the texts─"

"everyone's fine, just stay put! i'm almost there!"

your phone buzzed in your hand with a new message, a selfie image from the unknown sender with the caption "proof enough, sweetheart?"

sure enough, it was like looking at a ghost. a man with hair as dark as his surroundings, the piercing green eyes, the scar over his lip. not to mention the awkward angle the photo was taken at like he wasn't sure what he was doing or where to look when he took the photo. whatever phone he was using was nothing close to the old nokia he had in the past buried in your nightstand and it showed.

"...what the fuck?"

you could hear satoru asking, "what's wrong?" from the speaker of your device.

"there's no way, right? you're supposed to be dead??" you choked out, tears falling from your eyes onto the phone screen. this was a sick joke, right? there's no way your husband is alive after being dead for twelve long and grueling years, it's just not possible.

...right?

satoru burst through the front door to your home, "y/n!? where are you?!" he breezed to the living room hoping you were there, and sure enough you were.

he stood in the doorway panting, finally seeing your eyes lift to meet his with tears streaming down your face. "this is a prank, right? he's dead! i don't like this, it's not funny. . ."

he sped towards you, throwing your phone to the other end of the couch and pulling you in for a hug. there was no way he could lie to you, he saw it himself already while he was out with his students.

is it wrong for satoru to want to hide the fact that your dead husband somehow is now revived? 100%. he didn't like toji one bit especially not after almost losing his own life to him and surviving from the miracle of reverse cursed technique. he also hated how broken you became after toji died, because he killed him. he caused your pain. it was because of those actions that you were left alone to shoulder the weight of two kids in a cramped decrepit apartment you hoped to move out of someday soon at the time. satoru did not want to ever see that happen again to you after you finally allowed yourself to try and love again.

you aren't a sorcerer.

you aren't a killer.

you didn't deserve this.

toji kept a lot hidden from you about the jujutsu world and the many horrors in it, especially the acts he once committed. he changed for you as much as he could since the time he locked you down with a ring to the day he died. he forwent killing others and used his hands only to love and support life as best as he could.

he had no regrets over falling in love with you, but he also struggled to find his place in the world again. everything he believed he knew and did best centered around taking the lives of others and without that, he wasn't anything. but he had you, and the kids, and that gave him every reason to try.

when confronted about the impossible task of killing a girl being guarded by the one and only satoru gojo, he knew it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world. toji also knew that he was the only one capable of doing it with the right methods and plenty of patience. the rewards he'd reap afterwards would be enough to coast through life in the way that you deserve and with functional appliances and hot water in the shower. even if it meant bloodying his hands one final time, it was always for your sake and yours alone.

satoru had no chance to even open his mouth before a deep voice familiar to both of you sounded from the front door he didn't bother to lock in his haste to get here. not that any lock or door could ever hope to stop the being that is toji fushiguro.

"daddy's home~, where's my angel at?"

"how the fuck did you find her?" he turned to face the man with a hostile glare.

toji scoffed, walking over to the couch, ignoring satoru in the process as he cupped your tear-stained chin to meet the smile always reserved for you.

"missed ya, sweetheart," he slowly admired all your features intently. twelve years is a long time and while you're still young, you're not immune to signs of aging. however, you can now say it's cute that you both carry the same small creases around your eyes. the idea of growing old with your soulmate and actually getting to is a miracle in and of itself.

seeing him once again like this made you sob mercilessly, if you could call whatever you were doing before that. the sheer force of many emotions overtakes your body. you're grasping his body and face praying your hands don't slip through like ghosts on TV. "toji, how are you alive? i buried you myself!"

"haven't a clue, but i couldn't care less about the reason. i'm back now and i'm not leaving you ever again."

he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up off the cushions and into a tight hug, one you've missed after the many years of sleepless nights in a bed far too big for one person.

sure, they were seldomly spent with satoru, more so as of late. he was there for you when no one else was or could be. you hated him at first, but you grew to understand everything that happened and he helped you learn to love again. you hated too that toji had done something so stupid that cost him everything, but you understand why and came to terms with it.

he shot a glare at satoru who was kneeling on the couch with his fists clenched and a sour expression. "you can go now, kid. my wife and i have some catching up to do."

"i'm not going anywhere." he hissed.

"i wasn't asking." toji growled in response. he leaned down to meet your lips, instantly making your body shiver. saliva coating your lips like gloss with a flavor that made long dormant senses come alive like flowers beneath a tundra.

it was like a dream, i mean, how else could your dead husband be kissing you again? yeah, cursed techniques can be crazy sometimes, given what you learned from satoru, but raising the dead? it was nigh impossible tampering with life in such a way.

there is no other way you could explain this. here before you is a man that looks like toji, sounds like toji, acts like toji, tastes like toji. everything about him is the toji you knew and you swear you can feel your soul humming for him like a human beacon.

one kiss wasn't enough. it never is with toji and you never used to complain about it. they start soft and supple and quickly turn into bites and feverish grabs, yearning for more. but the circumstances now are different than before. "t-toji, wait─"

"what's wrong, baby?" he interjected, "you know how much i missed ya?"

satoru shoved his hand in between the two of you, infinity protecting him from the possibility of toji's saliva getting on his perfect skin. "you've been dead for a long time, in case you forgot. people can move on with their lives."

"what are implying?" he narrowed his eyes at the man. "you been touching my wife in my absence?" toji got his answer when he saw your flustered gaze. "sweetheart, he did tell you how i died, right?"

"yes, but it's not like that, toji." you sighed, stepping away from the men and returning to your spot on the couch, resting your face to your palms. "satoru showed up out of the blue that day telling me exactly what happened. about everything, including the job you hid from me."

"yeah and she punched me too." satoru chimed in, making toji chuckle with pride.

"eventually, i forgave him, yes. it killed me that you went and died over some stupid pride. it's not like either of you are perfect people though, no one is, and i get that." your voice was cracking with grief and anger you haven't expressed since that day. "i just wish you would've talked to me instead of deciding for yourself what you thought was best. . ."

toji seated himself at your side, rubbing his hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you like he always used to. "i'm sorry, y/n. i never planned on dying that day and leaving you, i was stupid and i know it."

"i know... it was hard though- and satoru has been very kind in helping our family out after it all."

toji shot a look to the man keeping himself quiet to not disrupt the moment, but this time it wasn't one of anger. satoru returned his look with his own troubled expression.

"he took megumi and tsumiki in like they were his own kids, paid our debts, bought this house for us. he's even their teacher now, training and keeping them safe. oh you would be so proud of how they turned out, toji."

much to satoru's dismay, toji pulled you into his lap with your back to his chest. large hands resting on your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck delivering soft kisses to calm your relentless sobs of grief.

toji wouldn't say so right now, but he's the reason satoru came to you in the first place. he wasn't expecting much when asked what his final words were, but when regret washed over him over his choices, toji had one final hope to ensure you had the life you deserve.

"i'm home, sweetheart. m'not going anywhere ever again."

toji wasn't much of a jealous person. even after twelve years apart from you and another man filling the void, he only had himself to blame for leaving you and everyone else behind.

satoru on the other hand felt differently, but his jealousy wasn't about pride or broken promises. it was about you and sustaining your happiness.

the man you loved who got himself killed now walking back into your life by some blessing from above. the life of someone satoru has grown to love and care for. he never asked you for much in return, only that you'd give him a chance and you your own to love again beyond toji. at first it was merely about making things right for someone who didn't deserve the situation they were placed in, but it never stays like that. it always grows into something more. if you water and care for a plant, it will grow and bloom, as simple as that.

and just like with toji, it's never stops with one kiss. like a cactus waiting for a monsoon to drown it or the golden light of day to feed it. his soft kisses soon turned into bites, his breath fanning your neck behind your ears and his fingers kneading into the plush of your waist and working up to your chest.

"toji, w-what are you doing?" you blushed, squirming from not only the tongue striping your ear but the boner poking your back through the fabric.

"shh," he coos, "just lemme show you how much i missed ya, okay?"

"huh?" satoru groaned.

calloused hands began pushing back the hem of your shirt as he found his way in around your breasts.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"the fuck does it look like, brat?" toji hissed at the man. "gonna make love to my wife, right mama?" he said, moving his hand inside your shorts and over your mound, toying with the sticky fabric. a husky snicker filled your ears, "so wet for me already. can't wait to taste your pretty pussy again."

"fuck! toji~," you leaned into his touch, digging your nails into his thighs to balance yourself as he slithered his rough digit between your folds, gathering slick around his finger tip to work himself inside.

"so tight for me. fuck, i missed this. has he even been treating you properly?" he smirked at satoru.

the white haired man had enough sitting with on the sidelines, scooting in front of you blatantly ignoring the scowling husband.

"why don't we show him how i treat you, princess?"

oh how toji wanted to put him in his place, but then he thought about the fun you might have with both of your love interests filling you up. toji died, time passed, he gets it. but now, you have the chance to indulge yourself in something you never would've done before.

a mischievous grin tugged his scar upwards. he leaned back, propping his hips up to adjust himself and bouncing your body up onto his lap, back against his chest.

satoru took the invitation and closed the gap between you, muffling your moans with his tongue against yours while circling your chest with his hands.

you're toji's after all. your rings still nestled on your finger unmoving after all these years. what's the harm in some temporary enjoyment to celebrate his return?

from your mouth, satoru leaned down to tongue the buds on your chest after removing your top. toji took advantage of your now free opening to kiss you, slipping another finger inside your cunt and scissoring your walls open.

"you have the prettiest tits, princess. no competition, even from jackass back there." his voice humming against your nipple that sent shockwaves straight to your heart and other areas (read: pussy) that made your body flutter.

you were already in shambles, threatening to come apart. your whole body felt like it was on fire thanks to their onslaught of attention. toji's voice filled your ears, nibbling the lobe as he spoke, "you wanna cum, sweetheart? i can feel this pussy just begging for it."

you nodded your head as best you could, "y-yes fuck─ please." with a quick circle of his thumb to your pearl and a bite from satoru, your body unraveled turning your vision white. your body slunk further back against toji's as you settled from the high.

"that's my good girl." he praised, his voice like honey over your ears, "can't wait to feel you clenching around my dick again."

"please please daddy, i need you." you whined as he took his fingers out leaving you feeling void.

his deep laugh only made you shiver and perk up more, "so eager for me? always so good f'me, baby." he raised his fingers up to his mouth, admiring the clear dew before cleaning them off in his mouth. "best taste in the world right here."

satoru slid his head between your thighs, kissing your pearl and jolting your body in the process, "don't forget that i'm here, princess. lemme clean you up a bit."

"fuck, 'toru~," you mewled as he licked a straight stripe up your slit. his tongue savoring the taste before toji lifted your body up and placed you down on all fours on the cushions.

"uh uh, pretty boy," toji teased, "this pussy belonged to me first and will stay that way. but thanks for keeping it warm for me."

you heard toji unbuckling himself, cock springing free right up against your entrance making you squeal out in response. turning your head around, you could see the precum adorning the tip of his overwhelming size.

yup, definitely toji.

"why don't i fill up this mouth of yours then, beautiful?" satoru purred as he kneeled in front of you, freeing his own bulging length from his pants.

both of the men pushed their way into your holes at the same time, a guttural groan leaving you as you adjusted to toji's monstrous size. it worked in favor for satoru, the vibration making him throw his head back.

"shit─ almost like the day we first fucked." he flashed an arrogant smile to the man across from him, "the so-called 'strongest' falling short to a monkey like me?"

satoru returned toji's remark with a cocky look of his own, "so scary~, want me to hollow purple your ass again? that did the job last time."

so long as he wasn't distracted trying to throw hands, toji kept his pace was slow and sensual. savoring every moment he was connected to your body. his grip was sure to leave bruises later on your hips but you welcomed them proudly since it meant you had him again.

satoru had his hand at the back of your head, bobbing you evenly over his cock whispering, "you're so pretty, doin' so well for us."

the cock in your mouth was the first to show signs of his incoming release, now evident by his pace turning sloppy before ultimately releasing his seed as pure and white as his hair all over your tongue and throat.

he groaned deeply, cupping your cheek to admire his handiwork with soft eyes. "prettiest girl in the world."

your praise was interrupted by yet another challenge from behind, "look at that, he cums fast too." toji sneered. his eyes fell to the circle of cream glossing his own length.

"least i actually can." he shrugged in response, only taunting him further. "did you lose your touch in the afterlife, old man?"

"tsk." he clicked his tongue. with satoru out of your mouth, he flipped you so your back was against the cushions.

"toji!" you yelped in surprise.

"sorry sweetheart, but you know how i much i love seeing your pretty face when i fuck you full."

toji entered himself back into you, hips rutting at a faster more rough pace to chase his high. his breathing turned heavy with low grunts in between.

satoru leaned down, peppering kisses across your cock drunk face seeing stars. "hang in there, beautiful, you're doing so well."

with a few harsh thrusts, toji had shimmied himself as deep as he could inside. "want me to give you another baby? give megs and tsumi a new sibling?" you nodded furiously despite not being totally aware what he was even saying through the blood rush in your ears. "yeah? daddy can do that for you, my love. can't fucking wait to see you swollen again now that i'm home."

when you love someone as much as toji, almost anything they say sounds like a good idea when he says it so sweetly to you ten inches deep. you're even more willing to indulge in his antics now after all this time without him. you truly missed such moments, more than you know.

he hasn't even seen his kids yet, oh how shocked they're gonna be when they come home to the literal ghost in the house. inside your womb however was anything but ectoplasm from some spirit. thick ropes of cum shot out, burying you with warmth from the inside and out.

"thaaattt's it... fuck baby─milk me dry." he moaned pleasingly, leaning down to bite into your soft flesh as you screamed his name harmoniously until nothing else could sound.

after a pregnant pause, he finally pulled out, attempting to stuff his seed back inside you before satoru lifted you up onto your knees with your back close to his chest. "c'mere princess, you don't need that stuff in you." as he rubbed his length along your folds, he snaked his arms around your waist and chest to keep you up, leaning into your ear whispering, "only mine," as he smirked at toji's discontented face.

toji ignored him as he took your cheeks into his hand, kissing you oh so sweetly and full of love. you greedily kissed him back, a few tears falling from your eyes whether from satoru pushing up into you or toji's return to you, who knows. both, really. either way, you're beyond happy feeling your heart beating again like it last did twelve years ago. he wiped your tears with gentle kisses, "i love you, y/n, so fucking much."

he wasn't much with words of affirmation, especially in endearing ways. toji cared more about showing his love to you in small acts or teasing. but when your bodies are pressed together, be it through making love or holding each other to sleep, that's when you hear the words come straight from his heart and into yours.

"i love you─ahh too, j-jiji." you smiled blissfully, trying your best to get the words out as satoru's cock thrusted into your sweet spot over and over.

there were plenty of times satoru wanted to interject. as much as he disliked toji, this is the man you had chosen to love before and never stopped loving. despite his own feelings, your feelings are what matter most. that being said, when the moment's over, he's reminding you about the spot in your heart reserved for the honored one.

"if you want another baby, y/n, i'll give you one." he grinned, upping his pace. his balls made a splatter sound with each thrust thanks to all the cum and slick present. "i'm sure we can make the prettiest baby together."

"is that how it is? this is my wife we're talking about, pretty boy." he leaned forward to cup your cheek, trailing his fingers to the back of your head.

"is your memory falling short too, old man?" his voice becoming disheveled, "she's had several years without you to move on."

the hand twined within your hair urged you downwards. toji's hardened cock angry at the tip was begging for attention. before he could do anything, he turned your face up to meet his gaze.

"what's your surname, sweetheart?"

"fushiguro?" you responded, slightly puzzled given your headspace.

"not gojo, huh?" he lined his tip up against your lips, ever so softly saying "i'm glad," before impaling your parted mouth, thrusting deep into your throat. his face conveyed a victorious smile beamed right at satoru.

any attempt at moaning were muffled, or more accurately gagged. your voice straining with pleasure as you were being fucked in both ends. again. toji's girth was much harder to accommodate but all his gentle praises and cooing helped relax you. the burning in your jaw worth it just for this moment. it gave satoru some extra enjoyment on his end when every praise had you vice gripping his length.

satoru couldn't compete in raw size against toji. not to say that he's by any means below average, but toji's heavenly restriction keeps him above the already exemplary sizes. he does however have one secret technique only for his bloodline.

limitless.

simply activating his ability allows himself to essentially become a human vibrator. literally. through infinity, he can expand and retract the distance between your velvet walls and his shaft at any speed he desires. it does take some effort and obviously self-control, but this is a man with an endless pool of cursed energy.

domain expansion: infinite pleasure.

the two continued their race to cum, you had no choice but to be the first, followed closely behind by the other two. your body trembling at the mercy of their cocks pumping you full.

"fast enough for ya, gojo?" he scoffed, tilting your head up to his with a finger swiping prodding your lips, "open." you obliged, sticking your tongue out like a panting dog after swallowing his essence entirely. "good girl." he smiled.

you couldn't help but whine at the loss of satoru when he pulled out, but it finally gave you a chance to catch your breath. "can you guys stop bickering for one second. at this point, you two need to be the ones fucking like some good old hate sex."

the two men chuckled, "sorry sweetheart, but you're doing so well taking us." toji purred, rubbing his digits under your jaw like he was petting a cat.

"aww, don't tell me you're tired of us now?" satoru pouted. "toji's one of the few people that actually can put up a good fight with me and with you as our prize. . ." his voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the older man's grasp to kiss you. ". . .it only makes it more enjoyable."

"don't either of you get any bright ideas that leave me to grieve again, you hear me? i mean it."

toji hooked his arms under yours and pulled up onto his lap holding you at your waist with one hand and the other keeping your face in his neck. "i think we can agree to that, can't we, 'toru?"

"yeah, jiji," he replied mockingly while inching forward, "i think for the princess here, we can keep things neutral." his voice had a tone of mischief to it.

"what are you two doin─hey!" you yelped in surprise. toji had lifted you up onto his cock, sitting you down balls deep against your lips all the while satoru's tip rubbed between your ass.

"one more baby, i know you can do it." toji cooed with his voice just as full of shit as satoru's. "you want us to see eye to eye, don't you?" he smirked.

honestly... what the hell? why not?

your mind is so far gone with pleasure to care. all you want is to love and be loved by your two sacred treasures.

"god, fuck." you groaned as satoru worked his way in, agonizingly slow. toji kept himself still but the pressure of warming them both is downright insane. tears welled up which were quickly swiped away thanks to toji. he leaned forward, kissing you through it, humming into each other's mouths in ecstasy.

"ready, princess?" you nodded your head as best as you could with your shaky body.

"try and keep up if you can, pretty boy." you glared at toji with a hiss of disapproval. "i know i know, m'sorry. lemme put a sweeter face on you now, okay?"

toji moved his arms back under yours, this time hugging your chest to his in a tight bear grip as he rutted his hips into you. every time he pushed in, satoru pulled out. repeating as they set the pace while you raked lines down toji's back.

you were reduced to nothing but babbling nonsense, crying out jiji toru jiji toru and other incoherent swears. drool spilling from your mouth despite toji's best efforts to keep it occupied with his own. he eventually dropped his head to your shoulder, biting into marks he previously made. satoru pulled himself closer, opting to rest his head on the opposite side of toji and his arms coiled around your waist.

you were unable to hold out for long before coming undone but they didn't cease their own chase. despite their disheveled breaths and all the obscenities they growled, they continued on pumping. the rhythm they set soon fell apart and after a few harsh thrusts, the two pushed up deep inside you at the same moment washing you over in a second orgasm before the first even had a chance to settle.

"fuck... y'er so warm y/n. can't take it anymore, gotta cum sweetheart. take every last bit of us, you hear me? show us how good you are."

the best you could manage was a muffled "mphm" with haphazard nods as you clenched around them equally in force. the eruption of warm seed soon followed, coating your insides and spilling out with your arousal.

they finally pulled out after what felt like an eternity followed by the jungle juice of cum, slick, and sweat dripping further out from your body. you collapsed onto toji's sweat coated chest gasping for air. satoru couldn't help himself from doing the same onto your back.

"not bad, old man. i can see why she loves you so much."

"yeah?" a genuine smile crossed toji's face from his words, "you did fine yourself too, brat. may have to keep you around for her joy."

"you couldn't stop me even if you tried, i only take orders from our princess." he chuckled.

toji brushed his hand over your head, pushing strands behind your ears and admiring your beautiful fucked face.

"i am going to order you to get your ass off of us and go start a bath before she falls asleep for good."

"fine, fine." satoru groaned before pushing himself off the two of you, kissing you once before walking off to the bathroom.

"now then. . ." toji's eyes wandered to the empty slot on his finger. "did you bury me with my wedding band, love?"

with a groggy hum, you turned upwards to his face. "i thought about it but no, i still have it. i kept it with the intention of giving it to megumi someday if he ever wanted to get married to always keep you in our thoughts."

"guess he's gonna have to pick something else," he smiled. "death is one thing that will never separate us and even if it could, i would marry you again and again, as many times as it takes in every lifetime. we're bound to each other forever."

"jiji~," you sniffled. "i love you so much. welcome home... my sweet husband."

"i love you too, my precious wife." he kissed your crown, sighing peacefully before lifting you up into his arms. "time to get cleaned off before the kids get home, right?"

one perk to this nice house gifted to you is the master bathroom featuring a large enough tub perfect for the three of you to relax in. perfectly nestling you between your two loves as they took turns scrubbing and kissing every inch of you before bothering with themselves.

"i can't believe you tried to bribe me to not see my 'dead' husband, 'toru." you pouted.

he threw his hands up defensively, "hey you know we have history, princess. i didn't want to let you go that easily without a fight."

"well i'm not giving up either of you so you two better learn to get along and fast. i love you both too much."

"aww~, you're too cute, y/n. love you too."

toji barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "just don't forget your manners, she's first and foremost my wife." satoru rolled his eyes teasingly at the man before pulling you away from him into his arms.

after soaking for a good while, the three of you stepped out. satoru changed back into his clothes from earlier and as for toji, well you never could part with the majority of his favorites. each article still carrying trace amounts of his scent that bring you peace every time you're upset or need a reminder of him.

once dressed, you curled up once more on the couch to resume a movie from earlier, tucked in a blanket up in toji's arms with satoru close by.

the front door opened followed by a resounding "we're home!" followed by the footsteps of the whole group.

"hey mom, have you heard from goj─DAD?!" megumi had entered the living room first and immediately dropped his bag to the ground.

"megumi?" tsumiki followed in after, equally as shocked before the rest of the group arrived.

toji looked softly at megumi and tsumiki first, taking in how much they've grown with a smile and a stray tear glossing his eye.

"how are you even here?!" megumi said with an appalled expression.

toji shrugged, "beats me, guess even heaven couldn't keep me from seeing my family again in life." he smirked.

"welcome home, kids!" you smiled happily to the group, unable to move away from toji's lap to greet them better after the fucking you just went through. "come sit with us, tell us about your evening!"

megumi and tsumiki came over first, hugging toji again like they too needed to confirm it was truly him and not some apparition.

"so who are the rest of ya?" toji questioned, his eyes panning to the group that wandered over.

the pink haired boy spoke first, "i'm yuji itadori! megumi's boyfriend."

next was a chestnut haired girl, "nobara kugisaki, these guys' best friend."

lastly was a familiar name and face that earned a questionable hum from the older man when she approached, "maki zenin, nobara's girlfriend."

his eyes narrowed slightly, "zenin?"

"don't count her out just yet, gramps." satoru chimed in from the other side of the couch. "your cousin here is just like you, just not nearly as old."

"says the brat with white hair. i don't see any grays on my head just yet."

"well if your back isn't hurting then you can take over maki's training from now on. you're the best choice for her to learn from, her twin as well."

toji glanced her over, as if assessing her prowess, eventually giving a satisfactory nod. "sure, but don't think you'll pull me away from y/n that easily." he moved his mouth right up against your ear, "we've got twelve years of catching up to do, don't we?"

"oh toji," you laughed. "you'll have me every single day and night now. no more stupid missions for you."

"anything for you, sweetheart." he purred, pulling the blanket up over your tired form that clung to him tightly.

you did your best to try and stay awake to enjoy your time with everyone, but thanks to toji caressing your body softly, you fell deeply asleep. when the next morning arrived and you woke up with not only satoru at your side, but toji as well, you wept with pure hearted joy that none of this was a dream or a cruel prank. simply, the love of your life finally coming home.

home sweet home once again.

☆ Notes: the idea came to me when i was trying to sleep the other night and ended up making me stay up an extra hour giggling with all the ideas i was getting for it. i hope it's not been done before but either way i was so excited to write this, i had so much fun!! writing satoru more than usual was a bit tricky for me since i'm only used to toji brainrot, but we'll get there.

also if you wanna see a bad edit i made that inspired this whole thing, peep this link

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c0mbatchameleon · 10 days

Text

@jegulus-microfic April 21st, prompt: run, words: 1160, nsfw

aka regulus comes until he cries? that’s basically it yeah (+t4t jeg)

He shouldn’t cry.

It’s what Regulus has heard since—well, as early as he can remember. Crying is a vulnerability he can’t afford, a sign of weakness, and the Black family are anything but weak. Don’t be a baby, they’d say—to the literal fucking baby.

The last time Regulus cried was when he was 7 years old, he thinks—his mother certainly made sure he never did it again. And even long after he left that house behind, left his family and everything they stand for, found a new family, found a new home and new self unrestrained by hatred and abuse, transitioned, finally became comfortable with himself, his identity—after all of it, this is what he’s held onto. The belief that he shouldnt cry.

At least, it was what he held onto.

Now, as Regulus finds himself bent over the kitchen counter, nails dragging down the cool granite that he’s pressed flush against, he’s beginning to think crying isn’t so bad after all.

The tears started falling after his second consecutive orgasm, streaming freely down his face as he convulsed around James’ strap. James only slowed his thrusts to something deep and drawn out as he leaned forward and cooed, “That’s it baby, let it out,” hot breath cascading down Regulus’s ear and neck, hand stroking his hair gently. Languid kisses pressed down his neck and shoulder as he twitched and softly gasped in overstimulation.

He barely got a chance to catch his breath before—

“How ‘bout one more for me, yeah?” And just like that, James was drawing out and ramming back into him with a brutal pace. Regulus let out a choked gasp as his vision whited out, back arching, legs shaking. All he could respond was a tear-streaked string of oh fuck oh fuck oh fu—ah—please as James continued chanting soft praise and encouragement, railing him into a new fucking plane of existence.

That leaves him here, hurtling head first towards a third orgasm and choking on intermittent sobs and moans in rhythm with James’ thrusts. Each one is hitting that spot that sends a line of white-hot electricity up his navel, fraying his nerves until his entire body feels like an exposed wire. His hands grab for purchase on the countertop, unsuccessfully, as he tries to drag himself up, away, anywhere to put distance between himself and the onslaught of pleasure-pain that’s spreading like a fire across his whole body.

But James only digs his hand into Regulus’ curls and pulls, the other wrapped around the front of him so Regulus’ cock grinds into it with each movement of their hips. “Where are you trying to run off to, love?” he teases as his grip tightens and holds Regulus in place.

“Oh fuck— I can’t—“ Regulus’ own moan cuts him off, loud and lacking shame. “S’too much,” he whines.

“But you love it, don’t you?” Soft lips trace up behind his ear. “You don’t want me to stop, love, do you?” Regulus’ eyes roll back into his head. The hand presses down further on his cock and another sob escapes him. “C’mon, tell me how much you love it when I take you apart like this,” James coaxes, pulling him up further by his hair so that he has to balance on his forearms, his head falling back.

And, here, in this state of over-saturated, pure white static bliss where Regulus can barely distinguish reality, the world around him, anything other than James’ hands and James’ lips and James’ sweet-honey voice and James and James and James, the only thought he can form amidst the haze is the one James has supplied for him so graciously, so giving as always: that he loves it.

You love it, don’t you?

And Regulus does.

He loves having his walls taken down, brick by brick until he’s bare, surrendered to pleasure and to release. God, he fucking loves this release. The kind he never allowed himself before, the way it washes over his whole body and builds up like a dam, the way it flows in and out of him, completely open, running rivers down his face and sending shocks out from his core, chest heaving, bones melting, transcending his own body and yet more grounded in it than he’s ever been. He’s nothing but skin and shaking muscle and neuron and nerve ending and pure, unfiltered feeling, and, yes, he loves it. So, he does what he’s told and voices it, let’s it flow out of him like the rest of the dam, frantic and breathless.

“I love it, I—ah—oh—I love it, I love it I love it I—fuck—“

“That’s good, that’s right, fuck, you’re doing so well, baby. You look so pretty when you cry like this” James praises, breathless now, tone soaked in awe and pure adoration as he watches Regulus repeat the phrase like a mantra, an oath, a prayer, the words melting together to the point of near incoherence: I love it I love it Iloveitloveitloveitloveloveitloveit.

“That’s it, I know, baby,” he tugs on Regulus’ curls again, pulling him up against his chest. The new angle makes his cock drive deeper into Regulus, drawing a strangled moan out between his quick, gasping breaths. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

His fingers move in quick circles on Regulus’ cock, other arm wrapping around his shoulders to hold him up. “C’mon, let go for me one more time, Star.”

The simple order is all it takes. When Regulus comes, it’s with stars behind his eyes and tears flowing freely and a scream tearing through him, head hanging back on James’ shoulder, back bowed, clenching down on silicone as shudders rack through his body in waves. James works him through it with a slew of there you go and so good for me and so perfect and show me how good it feels, baby, that’s it.

He collapses back onto James, boneless, and breathes. Shakily. James squeezes him tight. All that concentrated flame has simmered and spread out into something soft and warm and buzzing all throughout his body. A small whimper escapes at the feeling of James pulling out, his core still throbbing around nothing.

James scoops him up easily, laying him down gently on the couch in the next room, and kneels down to cradle his face with his hands.

“Okay?” he asks softly, kissing Regulus’ forehead.

Regulus keeps his eyes closed and smiles in delirious dream-state bliss, just barely aware that he’s still sniffling. “Love it,” he mumbles, and James snorts as his thumbs swipe back and forth under his eyes. His head is still cloudy, his body floating somewhere with it. “Love you,” he adds dazedly.

“Always so sweet after you come,” James remarks. “Think if I get you to five next time you’d propose to me after?”

If Regulus had the energy, he’d roll his eyes. Instead, he reaches out and runs his hand through James’ hair, down the back of his neck, along the scars on his chest, down his arm where he grabs his hand and pulls it into his own chest, body curling around it like he’s hoarding it. James doesn’t seem to mind. “We’re already married, James,” Regulus mumbles. “I literally proposed.”

James chuckles softly, fondly. “I love you, too, Star.”

#microfic brought to u by lana del rey #nails in the kitchen et al #anyways I don’t actually know how I feel abt this but here we are #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders #the marauders #jegulus microfic #writing stuff and things #microfic tag #jegulus fic

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catoslvt · 9 months

Text

Gally (TMR) x Reader

Death cure based with major spoilers.

You and gally were together back in the maze. It's been 3 years since he "died"

This is very long, but there is smut at the end 😜

As I stare at the masked man, I can't help but recognise him, well obviously not his face because he's wearing a gas mask, but I recognise his posture, his body language, just generally the vibes he's giving off, and it reminds me all too much of Gally.

But that's impossible, Gally died, I watched him die. I let him die.

As the van we were forced into goes over a small bump, it annoys me only more.

"Sit there all mysterious then." I grumble as I cross my arms and glare at the three of them.

"Are you guys just gonna sit there all mysterious, or are you gonna take those stupid masks off?" I spit at the three masked men, mainly aiming it at the one that resembles Gally, and Thomas and Brenda turn to me and let out small laughs whilst the masked men stay silent and continue to stare at the three off us.

Once we were let go from the vans, Jorge stumbles out of one of them, pinning down one of the masked men and hitting him across the face repeatedly.

"Where is she!?" He screams as I walk around him to reach newt, I know it's bad to have a favourite best friend, but Newt and Brenda are most definitely mine. He was there for me whilst I coped with Gallys death, and he never scolded me for grieving an "asshole" but gally wasn't an asshole, he was just misunderstood, I understood him though, and he understood me.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks as I wrap newts arm around mine and drag him to stand beside Thomas.

"Don't worry, we're all on the same side." The man says, and although his voice is muffled, it sounds like Gallys voice.

"What do you mean, all on the same side? Who are you?" Thomas quizzes, and suddenly the man takes his mask off, and my jaw drops.

"Hey, greenie." Gally says with a small smile, and my knees feel weak as I go to stumble backwards, but Newt quickly catches me, and in the few moments my eyes leave gally, Thomas has him on the floor hitting him.

"Frypan, hold y/n." Newt says, and frypan quickly holds my arm as Brenda clears her throat.

"I'm so confused. Who is he?" Brenda asks frypan and he shakes his head.

"My boyfriend." I gasp, and Brenda turns her head to stare at me, and I just shrug.

"An old friend from our maze." He tells her and I shake my head.

Once Newt has dragged Thomas off gally, I stare at him and he smiles at me.

"Hi y/n." He laughs, and I push frypan off of me and run to gally, pulling him in a tight hug as the tears begin to stream from my eyes.

"I thought you were dead." I cry as my arms tighten around his neck as his arms slowly make their way around my waist, and I just take a deep breath, taking in his new all too familiar but also unfamiliar scent.

"Without saying goodbye to you? Never." He whispers, and I just laugh before I remove my arms from his neck and cup his face with my hands.

"Holy shit it's actually you." I gasp as I stare at his face, it's been three years since I last saw gally, and as much as he's changed physically by shaving his hair, putting on more muscles, growing taller and well obviously aging, he's still the boy I met all those years ago in the glade.

"It's you too." He laughs before I roll my eyes and kiss him, and he kisses back before Brenda claps, and I awkwardly pull away from gally and stand beside him, facing my friends as Brenda smiles and shoots me a small thumbs up, she's heard every single detail about Gally and I, she heard every detail about gally himself probably over a thousand times, to the point where she said it feels as if she knows him personally.

"Why are you guys here anyway? Wckd is after you lot, like majorly." Gally asks as he looks at Thomas with his eyebrows raised slightly.

"We need to get into Wckd. They have Minho." Thomas answers and gally lets out a small laugh.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?" Gally asks and Thomas furrows his eyebrows.

"Look gally, can you help us or not? We need to get back to our camp soon, and if you're not helping us, then we're leaving." Thomas states, and I grab gallys hand and glare at Thomas, in a way that says,'I'm not leaving him.' And Thomas rolls his eyes slightly, but I just shrug him off as I turn my head to stare at gally with a smile and all the feelings come flooding back, all the feelings from when I was just a silly girl who didn't know anything, now I'm still a silly girl who knows quite alot after everything I've been through.

"Fine." Gally says as he grabs my hand and drags me deeper into wherever we are, Thomas and everyone else following us.

"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city." Gally tells us, as he's now at the front of the group, and I'm now walking with Brenda, still smiling at the fact my boyfriend is alive..

"They realised I was immune, patched me up, then brought me here. Lawrence. This group has been at war with Wckd ever since they took control over the city, but wckd couldn't hide behind those walls forever." He continued and I stare at him, Thomas or newts head ocasionally getting in the way but I don't care, even just being in his presence is enough to keep me smiling.

"The days gonna come, and they're gonna pay for what they've done." He finishes before he turns around to stare at the group.

"Listen. He doesn't get a lot of visitors, so let me do the talking, alright?" Gally asks, and we all nod.

"And try not to stare." He then adds which makes me scrunch my nose in confusion but we all follow him into the room anyways.

The room is a beautiful room filled with all types of flowers.

"Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jester told me what happened." The man exclaims as gally sets his gun down and walks towards the man.

"It was a slaughter. There was nothing we could do against those guns." Gally tells him as his hands reach up and sit on his vest, his fingers sliding underneath.

"No, but they can only poke a hornet nest for so long before they get stung." The man whispers as he raises a red rose to his nose and smells it, as Brenda, Newt and I all shoot each other a small 'what the fuck?' Look.

"Who are these people? Why are they here." The man asks, or more demands.

"we need to get into Wckd." Thomas says as he steps forward, ruining gallys full 'let me do the talking' rule, which makes me glare at him slightly.

Don't get me wrong, I love Thomas, but he thinks he's the leader of the group. All he thinks about is Teresa, really, Brenda is so clearly head over heels for him, but all he talks about is Teresa.

"Gally said you could get us through the walls." Thomas then adds and Gally just stares at him, clearly slightly annoyed.

"Gally should know better than to keep promises he can't keep." The man says, and I let out a small laugh, but I quickly stop myself before anyone turns to look at me.

"Besides, that wall is only half your problem." The man continues as he grabs the rack that is pumping something into him as he begins to walk to us.

"Getting inside wckd is impossible." He finishes and gally shakes his head.

"There might be a way now, but it doesn't work without Thomas." Gally announces.

"Is that so? You know what I am, Thomas? I am a businessman." The man says, leaning close into Thomas' face to whisper those last words

"Which means that I don't take unnecessary risks, why should I trust you?" The man asks and Thomas just stares at him.

"Because I can help you. You see if you can get me through those walls I can get you what you want." Thomas says and I turn to Brenda confused but she just shrugs her shoulders.

"So what is it that you think I need?" The man quizzes.

"Time, every last drop." Thomas states and the man turns his head to the side almost as if he's laughing.

"Is that something we both need?" The man sneers, and Thomas just continues to stare at him, almost as if he's staring through him.

"Wckd is something we both want." Thomas tells him, and he man just nods.

"I'll tell you what, two can go for now, the rest stay down here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you'll find your way back." He tells Thomas and everyone in the group look at each other and shrug.

"Do we have a deal?" The man asks Thomas as he extends his hand for Thomas to shake, which he does, and he man just smirks.

"Gally show them the way." The man then says before gally quickly shoos us all out of the room and shows us the entrance to Wckd, which is a literal sewer drain,and I stare at gally with a smile as he lowers a ladder down into the drain, I quickly crouch on the floor next to him as he drops to the floor ready to climb down.

"Gally, take care of these two." Frypan says and gally just nods.

"Yeah." He says before he looks at me.

"Stay safe, don't get lost or hurt." I warn him and he smiles.

"Cmon y/n, you know me." He says before he kisses me and begins to descend down the ladder, and I smile and watch him go down, smiling to hide the nerves.

As one of the now non masked men lead Brenda and I into a room, he stands at the door with his arms crossed.

"This is where you'll be sleeping whilst you stay here." He says before he slams the door and leaves, and Brenda throws herself onto one of the single beds, me copying her actions.

"I can't believe I finally got to meet Gally." She says with a small laugh.

"You can't believe it!? I thought he was dead! I watched him die." I tell her with an even larger laugh and she just nods.

"You must really love him if when you saw him, you still knew the love for him was there." Brenda tells me and I just smile.

"The love for him never left, I had plenty of opportunities to find someone else, like when I was captured by Wckd there was a few boys who showed interest in me but I couldn't stop thinking about gally, in the glade I thought i loved him, but when I lost him that's when I realised I did love him." I quietly say, and she just stares at me, but then shakes her head.

"But, you thought he was dead, so why didn't you move on?" She quizzes and I shrug.

"I asked myself that almost every day, but a part of me knew he wasn't dead no matter how bizarre it sounded to say out loud." I tell her and she just smiles widely.

"I'm really happy you've got him back y/n, I could see how much you loved him when you spoke about him." She tells me with a genuine smile on her face.

"Even with him back, it doesn't mean I won't spend time with you. You're still my best friend, Brenda, you know that. You know i love you." I tell her, and she laughs.

"I love you too, not as much as I love Thomas, though." She says and I just laugh

As we sit around the table with paper spread all over it, Thomas shakes his head.

"Nope, there's got to be another way in." He says and gally laughs.

"But how? You've seen the building, she is our only way in." Gally states as I stare at him.

"You really think she's gonna help us?" Thomas asks but my gaze then falls on newt who looks as anxious as ever as he plays with his fingers.

"I don't plan on asking for her permission." Gally laughs and Brenda clears her throat.

"Am I missing something? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?" She scoffs and gally looks at her with a smile.

"I like her." He tells us as he points at Brenda before he looks at me and smiles.

"What's going on?" Brenda quizzes as she looks at Thomas, and I can see the anger growing on newts face, somethings wrong with him, I can tell.

"What are you afraid that your little girlfriends gonna get hurt? Hmm?" Newt growls as he stares at Thomas through knitted eyebrows.

"This has obviously never just been about rescuing minho." He continues and I nod my head.

"Exactly." I agree, but nobody listens apart from gally who just chuckles.

"Who are you talking about?" Thomas asks as he approaches newt, who quickly slides off his chair so him and Thomas are both at eyelevel with each other.

"Teresa." He spits as if her name was poison.

"I mean, she's the reason Minhos even missing in the first place, and now we finally have the opportunity to get him back, and you don't want you because of her?" Newt asks as he's walking directly into Thomas, so Thomas has been pressed against the wall. If a deaf person was watching this play out, they'd definitely think that something else was going on here.

"Because keep down inside of you. Do you still care about her? Just admit it." Newt grumbles.

"Newt, no." Thomas answers and Newt grabs both of Thomas' shoulders and pins him tight against the wall.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams.

"Don't lie to me." He then spits and Brenda and I slap a hand over our mouths in usion, each for different reasons.

She did it out of shock, I'm doing it because I'm trying not to laugh.

Newt quickly steps back and shakes his head.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sorry." He then says as he turns to face us all, and I remove my hand from my mouth and stand up from my chair and quickly approach him.

"Are you alright?" I ask and he just stares at me before he walks out, and I turn to everyone in the room, mainly pointing at Thomas though.

"I'm gonna go speak to him, I'll be back in a minute, alright?" I say to the group and everyone nods before I follow newt, quickly realising he's heading for the roof, and as I follow him I watch as he sits down and dangles his leg off of the building, clutching his right hand with his left.

"Newt, what's wrong?" I ask as I slowly sit next to him, my words coming out gentle, as I don't want to startle him. He says nothing and instead pulls up his right sleeve, revealing black veins, which you only get if you have the flare.

"I should've told you sooner." He mumbles, and as I stare at his veins, I feel tears brimming my eyes, but I quickly blink them away as i smile at him, trying to act fine even though inside I was breaking.

"No, no, newt, it's okay." I say as I grab his left hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm happy you told me now." I say and he just nods at me.

"We're gonna get you the cure, okay? You're gonna be alright." I whisper, and he sadly smiles as he blinks away his own tears.

"Can you get Thomas, please?" He asks, and I nod but pull him into a tight hug.

"I really love you newt, you're my best friend, keep fighting for me, I'll get you better." I say as I stand up and run downstairs back to where everyone is and tell Thomas that newt wants him, and once Thomas is far enough away, I burst down into tears, nobody knowing why until I tell them.

"He'll be fine y/n, you know newt. He's a fighter." Gally says as he pulls me into a tight hug, his hand on top of my head as he gently plays with my hair.

"We're gonna get him the cure when we get into Wckd." Brenda calls before her, frypan and jorge all join in on the hug, which makes me let out a sad laugh as I hold onto them all.

Once I've calmed down, gally just grabs my face and stares at me, like I did when I first saw him again.

"I've missed your stupid face." He says with a large smile, and I just glare at him.

"I miss your hair." I cry as I stand on my tip-toes to feel at his now bald head which makes him scoff.

"It'll grow back." He remarks, and I sigh as I then burst out laughing.

"Actually, I think I prefer this hair." I state before Gally pulls me into a kiss, making frypan gag.

"Can you guys make out somewhere else!?" He screams before Thomas quickly runs in.

"I'm going into Wckd, gally you need to come with me, were getting Teresa." He states, and just like that, gallys gone.

Only an hour later, we all stand in front of Teresa, gally Ripping the bag off of her head as we all glare at her.

"gally?" She gasps but gally quickly quiets her by talking.

"Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. Well, start off simple. Where's minho?" Gally asks as he grabs a chair and slams it backwards in front of Teresa so that the back of the chair is facing her as he harshly sits down on it and throws his arms over the backrest.

"You guys seriously don't think -" She says as her eyes fall past gally and onto Thomas, which makes gally laugh.

"Don't look at him? Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you. We know you have minho in the building. Where?" Gally demands, and I let out a quiet gasp as my knees feel weak when I hear how demanding gally now is.

"he's with the others we're holding. At level three." Teresa answers.

"How many are there?" Newt asks, and Teresa gulps.

"twenty eight." She tells us, and we all turn around to Brenda as she plays with cards.

"I can make that work." She tells us happily with a smile.

"No, no, you guys don't understand the whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." Teresa states, and Thomas stares at her.

"That's why you're gonna come with us." Thomas tells her, and I stand up from where I'm sitting and grab the scalpel that's on the table and begin walking towards Teresa.

"Well, I don't know. You don't necessarily need her, right? Not all of her. We just need her finger." I sneer, an evil smile growing on my face as I almost pass gally, but he holds an arm out, so I bump into it, him signalling I'm taking it too far.

"y/n back off." Thomas warns from behind me, and I turn to him and glare.

"What are you squeamish? I guarantee you she's done much worse to minho." I question, and he points a threatening finger at me.

"Not the plan back off." He warns yet again, and I groan and give gallys shoulder a comforting squeeze before I walk back to the table and hand Thomas the scalpel.

"it won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up." Teresa says, now clearly panicking after the scalpel comments I made.

"we know. We're tagged, property of wckd. You're gonna help us with that, too." Thomas says as he holds up the scalpel.

As I sit on the chair in front of Teresa as she pulls my shirt down at the back of my neck, her fingers carefully graze my skin.

"Try to relax. This is gonna sting." She says slowly before gally walks over and gives me a warm smile before crouching on the floor in front of me.

"I don't want to see you flinch. You're my tough girl y/n remember." He says with a smile, and I nod, I remember.

As I run out of the maze, tears pouring from my eyes as I grab tightly onto minhos shoulder, trying my hardest to make it as far away from the maze doors as I can before I collapse, when i was running back from in the maze my leg got caught in one of the walls as it begun to move, i pulled it out but my ankle got caught and the wall got caught in it, making my ankle make the most deafening crunch noise you'll ever hear, and my scream got minhos attention as he spirited back and pulled my ankle free of the wall, and when I try to put my ankle on the floor I can't do it, so this is how minho has ended up carrying me back to the glade.

"HELP! Someone get Clint and Jeff!" Minho screams as he sets me on the floor, out of breath from running whilst practically carrying me.

Gally must've heard minhos cries for help, because he sprints over and falls to the floor next to me and when he looks at my ankle he gasps, and he's not even a medjack so it must be bad.

"Y/n, y/n, don't cry. You're my tough girl I don't want to see you cry." Gally warns as he presses a kiss to my head.

I'm snapped out of my memory with Teresa handing me a tissue.

"That's you done." She says, and I nod and get off the chair, allowing gally to climb on it as I sit on the floor like he done with me as I use one of my hands to dab the blood off of my neck using the tissue.

"How are you alive, gally? We watched you die." Teresa asks as she focuses on cutting his neck.

"I wish I knew." Gally says flatly as he reaches out one of his hands to cup my chin, lifting my face only slightly so he can stare at me, which causes me to smile and blush.

"I'm happy you two have each other again." She then adds and I laugh.

"We never lost each other." I say and gally begins to smile again.

When we all get ready for our plan, I smile at everyone.

"We're gonna kick Wckds ass." I exclaim as I do a small happy jump which causes frypan to laugh.

"Y/n, I've never seen you so happy to basically go on a death wish mission." He tells me with a smile and I shake my head.

"Nono, they're going on the deathwish mission, brenda and I are being the drivers." I say as I motion to Gally, newt, and Thomas with a smile.

As Brenda and I sneak our way into the carpark and climb on a bus, I stare around looking for any Wckd workers, but as of right now there's none so I smile slightly.

"Why did we agree to this?" I ask with a small laugh, and Brenda gives me the 'you know why' look and I just stare at her confused, I really don't know why.

"I just thought that if Thomas saw me doing something this brave, then he might actually like me." She sighs and I gasp.

"Thomas should like you anyway! You don't need to risk your life to be good enough for some boy." I state, and she shoots me a thankful smile.

"I wish that was true." She whispers and I shake my head.

"Brenda, you're already the bravest girl I know, you survived the fucking flare for god sake! That's braver than this." I tell her as I grab her shoulders and shake her.

"You're braver than me." She argues, and I shake my head yet again.

"It's not a competition, Brenda. If Thomas doesn't like you for you, then he's not worth it." I say as I give her shoulder a tight squeeze and she then smiles widely at me.

Minutes later, gallys voice rings through the walkie-talkie, asking where we are, and instantly, as he turns the corner, he almost runs face first into our bus, which causes me to laugh.

"Come on let's go!" I exclaim as Brenda opens the doors and the kids begin running in.

As I run to the other door and open it, I stare at gally confused.

"Where's Thomas?" I quiz and he stares at me confused.

"I was hoping he was with you." Gally says and I quickly step out of the bus, but gally grabs me and pushes me back in.

"No y/n, stay with the kids, wait here. I'll find him." He promises, and I just stare at gally, but quickly pull him into a kiss, which makes a few of the kids giggle before I break the kiss.

"Just wait for us, okay." Gally says as he pulls his mask down and then runs off.

I quickly climb on the bus as panic fills my stomach, I can't help but to think that something is gonna go wrong.

"Everyone, alright?" I ask as I turn to all the kids in the bus who just stare at me but all nod.

"I'm y/n, my friend who'll drive the bus is Brenda, were not a part of wckd and were here to take you somewhere safe, alright?" I ask, and all the kids cheer before Brenda gasps.

"Get down!" She exclaims, and I drop to the floor, all of the kids ducking in their seats.

"Stay quiet." She whispers, and i crawl next to her and watch carefully as armed guards approach the bus.

"Sorry, Thomas." I hear her say before she quickly jumps in her seat, me coping her because I know she's about to drive and i don't want to fly to the back of the bus.

As the bus starts, she screams to everyone to hold on as she begins to drive, bursting through barricades as she navigates the city seats, Wckd cars now driving behind us.

"We're fucked!" I yell as I let out large fits of laughter whilst all the kids behind us scream extremely loud.

"You'll all be alright! Just hang on!" I scream to them as Brenda continues to swerve and drive around.

"Jorge is a shit driving instructor." I tell her through large laughs.

"Oh yeah? Didn't he teach you how to drive too!?" She asks, and I just nod.

But whilst we're driving, Wckd cars behind flying at us from all angles and Brenda swerves the car, and now I'm panicking aswell as the kids, but we come to a stop on the middle of the road, and Brenda exits rhe car whilst I stay with the kids.

"We're gonna be alright guys, this is our plan." I tell them all, and they just let out worried cries and whimpers.

Our plan is set in motion once Brenda let's off her flare and connects the rod to our bus and screams to everyone to hold onto something, seconds before the bus is lifted into the air, dangling by the front as we crash into buildings and spin around.

But my laughing comes to a hault when I realise that the rod is slowly but surely Ripping the bumper off of the bus, meaning we're going to fall.

As we all begin screaming and crying, frypan quickly drops us, which sends us hurdling to the ground, but we don't actually fit the ground until the rod fully rips the bumper off of the bus, and the bus lands on the backdoors, until it tips forward and Brenda and I quickly motion for all of the kids to climb out and follow us, but first we had to wait on frypan.

Once we run back to Lawrence's lair thing, we run around trying to find everyone, but nobody is there.

"Where is everyone?" Frypan quizzes before him and Brenda take off in a sprint, leaving me with all the kids, I love taking care of kids, I think kids are funny.

"Is everyone alright?" I ask as I turn to stare at them, and they all nod.

"Thank you for saving us." The youngest boy of them all says, and I stare at him and smile. He reminds me of Chuck.

"Nobody deserves to go through what they put you through." I tell him with a large smile as I crouch down to his size, and he laughs and hugs me, which almost makes me cry as I hug back.

As we pull the kids into the main part, Thomas begins to talk through the walkie-talkie, but she's too far for any of us to hear, so I divert my attention to the kids again.

"Our safe space, is gonna be perfect. Much better than anything Wckd had." I promise as I look at all of them.

"Really?" A girl asks and I nod.

"Mhm, so much better, and you guys can help with building it. You can design your own rooms and pick who you want to share a room with. It's completely up to you." I say, and they all clap and cheer, clearly excited for this promised safe haven I'm talking about, and I hope it'll be as good as I'm making it sound.

"Will you be sharing a room with that boy you were kissing?" A different girl asks with a small 'oooo' rising from all of the other kids.

"Maybe, if he doesn't annoy me." I tell them and they all laugh.

"I used to share a room with him, well more of a hammock, and he always used to steal the blanket from me during the night so I'd wake up freezing." I groan and all the kids continue to laugh.

"Did you get them back!?" One gasps and I nod.

"I pushed him out of the hammock and took all of the blanket for myself." I answer.

Suddenly, I hear an aircraft outside and I run to check it out with Brenda and Frypan, and I realise Jorge has brought our ride, and all the kids quickly run out after us running inside, where we see Vince, and once we've flown near the tunnel we fall back down to the ground waiting for everyone to come, but they don't. So we all run out of the aircraft to see the Wckd city getting burned down.

"We can't stay here Brenda." Jorge states as he turns to her.

"Don't worry, they'll be here." She argues as she shakes her head.

Only seconds later, I hear Teresa's voice ring through the speakers, and I'm practically sick hearing her talk. Even though she helped us get into wckd, I hate her, I don't even listen to what she has to say. I just block her out.

As we get back into the aircraft I play around with the vial of the cure around with my hands, being careful not to drop it, when minho and gally run at the aircraft.

"Where's the serum!?" Minho yells, and I hold it up in my hands, and I instantly know what I have to do, I instantly begin running through the Wckd city, missing bullets only merely and jumping through fire as tears stream down my face, I need to get this back to newt, even if it kills me in the process.

As I twist and turn through alleys and different streets being so close to them, my ankle begins to hurt, as in the ankle I hurt four years ago by now, but I push through it, only to turn the corner and see newt, dead on the floor, Thomas crouched over him.

"No!" I scream as the tears begin to pour harder as I sprint to newts side, dropping to my knees on the floor as I cup newts face with one hand and shake his shoulder with the other.

Thomas says nothing as he stands up and walks away, giving me time to give newt the serum, but it doesn't work. He doesn't wake up and laugh, he doesn't even blink.

"Newt no, please. Please!" I scream as frypan, gally, minho and Brenda surround us.

"Y/n, he's gone." Brenda says from behind me, and I shake my head.

"No please! He's not gone the serum just hasn't kicked in yet." I cry as I continue to shake him.

"Newt, it's me y/n. Please wake up, please." I beg, although it's obvious he's dead, but it was also obvious gally was dead, so why can't newt come back too.

"Y/n, come on we need to go." Minho says through his own tears.

"No, I can't leave him here. What if he wakes up!?" I exclaim, my sadness now turning into anger towards everyone.

"You know he won't y/n, he's dead." Brenda says from behind me.

"He's not fucking dead!" I scream as I continue to shake him, my tears blinding me as everything continues to go blurry, as I feel my body being hoisted up off of the floor.

"Y/N, if we don't go, we're going to be burned alive." Gally says sternly as he throws me over his shoulder.

"Gally, please, no! I can't just leave him here!" I scream as I begin to thresh against gallys hold, but he's too strong.

"Y/n, it's okay." Brenda coos and I shake my head.

"No! You're all sick. You're leaving him here to be killed!" I scream, but I feel someone hit me over the head with something and everything goes black.

When I open my eyes, the room is so painfully bright that I let out a small groan as I shield my eyes from the light as I sit up and take in my surroundings.

"Y/n?" I hear Brenda say from beside me as she begins to stir from a sleep. And I turn my head to the side and see her sitting up and rubbing her eyes, and I realise I'm in a hospital room.

"Where am I?" I ask and she smiles and reaches out to grab my hand.

"We're in the safe haven y/n." She tells me with a large smile, and I just nod before she quickly stands up.

"I should go tell gally you're awake." She says before she runs out, leaving me questioning why my stomach is all bandaged.

When gally walks in, his eyes light up when he sees me.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He gasps as he quickly runs and sits on the edge of the hospital bed, pulling me into a hug whilst being careful of my stomach.

"What happened to my stomach?" I ask as I hug back.

"When you were running to give newt the serum, you got shot. We all noticed, but somehow, you didn't. Your adrenaline was too high. So when you were screaming over newt, making your heart race, it was pumping more blood out, but you still didn't realise." He tells me and I just stare at him and nod.

"I didn't want to knock you out, but I had to. Otherwise, you would've died due to blood loss, im sorry." He frantically tells me, and I sit up and rest my head on his shoulders.

"You saved me gally." I whisper before I gasp, which hurts my stomach, but I shake it off.

"So we're at the safe haven now?!" I exclaim and gally nods as he stands up.

"You want to see hm?" He quizzes before he takes my hand and carefully stands me up before he shows me around the safe haven, and I stop at the rocks with everyone's names carved into it, my heart stopping when I see Newts name, but my eyebrows raise in shock when I see Teresa's name.

"Teresa died?" I ask as I turn to gally.

"Saving Thomas, actually." Gally says as he slings an arm around my shoulder.

"Well shit." I whisper as I begin to feel bad for all of the grief I gave her after she betrayed us, all for her to die saving Thomas.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on minho, and I realised I totally forgot we saved him, so I ran at him full speed, throwing my arms over him in probably one of the tightest hugs ever.

"Careful there." He says as he hugs me back, also being careful of my stomach.

"It's good to see you again." He then tells me with a laugh and I just nod.

As we all sit around the bonfire, all of us, Vince begins to speak.

"We've come along way together. So many people sacrificed so much to make this place possible." He begins.

"Your friends." He continues, and our group all look at each other and smile, all of us nodding in agreement.

"Your family." He adds, and Brenda looks at me, as I turn to face her from infront of her, gally and I sitting infront of her, minho and Thomas and she grabs my hand, and she mouths 'my sister' which brings a few tears to my eyes.

"So here's to the ones that couldn't be here." Vince continues as he raises his glass, and tears begin to spill when I think of newt.

"Here's to the friends we lost." Vince says as I raise my glass high, everyone doing the same.

"This place is for you. it's for all of us." He continues and gally looks at me, and when he realises I'm crying, he wraps an arm around my waist pulling me closer to him.

"But this, this is for them." Vince says as he points at the rocks with everyone's names on them.

"Welcome to the safe haven!" Vince then screams and we all clap and cheer, and from the corner of my eye I see Brenda and Thomas kissing, which makes me snap my head to them, letting out a large 'What!?' Which makes everyone around us laugh, before I taste whatever in my cup, and I let out a massive gasp which takes all the oxygen out of my lungs.

"It's your drink!" I scream to gally, and he nods before pulling me into a deep, meaningful kiss.

"It sure is." He says with a small smile before we go down to the front with Vince and start the massive bonfire, where we all talk and laugh all night, but gally is way more touchy, infact he's toucher than ever tonight.

"You know, we have our own room now, no more sharing a hammock in front of everyone." Gally says once the bonfire has died down and there's hardly any people around us.

"Wait, really?" I ask happily, and he nods.

"Yeah, would you like to see?" He quizzes, and I nod.

"Are you sure you won't mind leaving the bonfire?" He asks and I just shrug.

"Hardly anyone here now anyway." I say, and he grabs my hand and leads me to our room, which I just gawk at.

"Holy shit it's so nice!" I exclaim as I jump on the bed, only paining my stomach a little bit as I smile, and gally copies me, but he grabs my waist and pulls me on top of him, pressing small kisses to my lips.

"Gally." I say with laughs in between kisses, yes sure gally and I have made out before, but this is different, I can tell it is.

And I'm really not complaining.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks as he leans his head into the pillows to break the kisses.

"No." I state as I smile at him.

"Good." He tells me before he flips us around so he's on top of me, which makes me blush, and I slowly feel a pit in my stomach growing, and I feel myself becoming wet.

"God, you're so gorgeous." Gally mumbles before he presses lips against mine, this time not breaking it, and instead, he deepens it by pushing his tongue into my mouth, which causes me to let out a small moan.

I can't remember if I've ever done anything like this before the maze, but if i have, it'd be really weird seeing as I would've been like fourteen or fifteen.

Gally smiles into the kiss as his hand slides under my shirt and makes its way to my bra, where he gently gropes my tits through the fabric of the bra, which only makes my moans slightly louder.

"You like that, hm?" Gally quizzes with a small chuckle before his lips make their way to my neck, as he begins to suck and bite it gently.

"Oh my god, gally." I groan as I wrap one of my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he's clearly still being careful of my stomach.

When gally stops kissing my neck, he looks up at me as he takes his hands off of my tits as it makes its way down to the button of my jeans, and I quickly kick off the sliders I'm now wearing, god knows where my trainers are because I wasn't even wearing this outfit when I last remember being awake.

"I missed you so much, yknow, not a day went by that I didn't think of you." Gally tells me as he unbuttons my jeans and unzips them, my breath hitching when he begins to pull them down my legs, his eyes not leaving mine.

"I always thought of you every day. I knee you were alive." I say to him, and he smiles at me.

"Oh yeah? What did you think about?" He asks before he pulls down my pants and slowly presses a finger to my clit, gently rubbing circles on it.

"Oh god- I thought of us. What would've happened between us if you lived." I tell him, moaning after almost every word, I'm a full virgin, like I've not ever even touched myself, I mean, how could I? I've never been left alone.

"Oh? What would've happened if i made it out with you guys?" He teases as he raises one of his fingers to his own mouth and carefully sucks it, before he slowly slides it into me.

"I had always thought that we could've got married or some shit, no matter how fucked the world was." I tell him with a small laugh and he smiles as he slowly begins to slide his finger in and out of me, causing me to turn into a moaning mess.

"And what about this? Did you ever think about us doing this?" Gally teases as he adds another finger into me, causing me to throw my head back into the pillow.

"Yes, oh fuck yes." I cry as his fingers reach deeper into me and its true.

"When?" He asks with a small smirk.

"All the time at night in the glade, I used to think about us sneaking into the deadheads and just doing it there, and then the night where I first saw you again I wanted you there and then." I tell him.

"Awh." He coos before he kisses me, and I shake my head and break the kiss.

"Gally, I want you." I whine, and he smirks at me as he pulls his two fingers out of me and sliding them into his own mouth, still maintaining eyecontact with me as he removes his fingers from his mouth, and his hands begin to work on his belt, but I swat his hands away and begin to unbuckle his belt myself, and once his belts fully gone, I take off his jeans, and then his boxers, and I audibly gasp when I see his cock.

I always knew gally was big, we had changed infront of each other before and I always saw the outline of his cock against his boxers, but now that its there infront of me, I'm gobsmacked.

"If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, just tell me." Gally warns and I nod as I lean back into the pillows and spread my legs as gally positions himself ontop of me as he begins to position his cock directly with my enterance.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" Gally asks, and I carefully grab his face and nod.

"I'm sure gally." I promise and he nods before he slowly begins to push his cock into me, and I bite down hard on my lip.

It hurts. Don't get me wrong. But it feels absolutely perfect. I squeeze my eyes shut once he's fully inside of me, and I let out small moans when he lets out a small grunt.

"Is this okay?" He asks, and I moan and nod as he begins to thrust in and out of me.

"Fuck, it feels perfect gally, faster please." I beg and I watch as he nods as he begins to thurst faster into me, reaching deeper each time which sends me into full bliss.

"Do you know how much I thought about this?" Gally groans as he continues to thrust into me, going at a pace that's comfortable for both of us, and it's absolutely perfect, I stare at gally with a smile as I continue to moan, my eyes not leaving him.

"My handsome boy." I quietly say to him, and he looks at me with lit up eyes.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asks, his thrusts getting slightly faster.

"I think you're the best-looking boy to ever exist, gally." I tell him truthfully, and he presses a hand next to my head on the pillow as he stares down into my eyes, he's sweating slightly now.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl. Nobody could compare to you." He states and I smile weakly, his words pushing me over the edge as I come undone, gally quickly groaning and pulling out just intime to cum on my stomach.

"I love you gally." I sigh as he presses his forehead against mine.

"I love you too. I'll love you forever." He promises with a weak kiss to my lips.

#fanfic #fiction #romance #writing #wattpad #gally tmr x reader #gally tmr #gally maze runner #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally #tmr smut #gally smut #will poulter #will poulter smut

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thegettingbyp2 · 8 months

Note

Do you think you could write a Jasper Hale x human!female!reader fic (this would take place during new moon) where he leaves and the reader has to deal with the after math of this. Then he later comes back angst might ensue but perhaps with a fluffy ending? Please and Thank You! 💖

P.S let me know if you need anymore info!

For Good This Time

A/N: If you enjoy this, please consider buying me a coffee :)

You weren’t really sure how your world was turned upside down in a matter of a small few hours. One moment, you had been laying on Jasper’s chest on your bed, his hand weaving through your hair as he read Jane Eyre to you, and the next you found yourself on your own, feeling like your heart had been completely ripped out of your chest.

Jasper had thoroughly broken your heart and then stomped on the broken shards that then lay at your feet. He said that he no longer loved you and that he was tired of constantly having to be cautious around you; that he wanted to be with someone who wouldn’t break so easily. When you found out that the same thing had happened to Bella when Edward broke up with her, the two of you found yourselves growing closer; the pair of you knowing how it felt to have your heart broken by one of the Cullens.

That was a year ago and the pain in your chest was still just as painful as the day he left. Bella had started to grow closer to her old childhood friend, Jacob Black, and whilst you were happy for her and happy that she seemed to be dealing with everything that happened a lot better, a part of you couldn’t help but feel bitter and left behind; that you should have moved on by now. However, although you knew that Jasper was gone, there was a part of you that always hoped that he’d come back. There were a few times where you had been convinced that you’d seen him as you walked down the street and were always tempted to follow him to see if it really was him but had to stop yourself.

So, when you found out that Edward and the Cullens had come back, you raced over to the house that you’d missed so much, only to be disappointed when you didn’t see the familiar blonde head that you were desperate to see.

‘I’m sorry, (Y/N),’ Esme said when she saw the look of realisation on your face that he wasn’t there. ‘He thought it was best if he stayed away from you, he’s been coming back into town every few months to check on you but he thinks it’s best for you if he stays away.’

‘But why would he think that?! The whole time he’s been gone, it feels like I’ve not been able to breathe. I thought we were past this, he knew that he wasn’t going to hurt me, he knew that!’

When you went home that night, you went straight into your room, collapsing on top of your bed as sobs wracked through your body. You have no idea how long you had been crying for but you were just drifting off into a fitful sleep when you felt a freezing cold touch on your cheek. You flinched at the sudden change in temperature and felt the touch retract instantly, a small inhale sounding with it that had your eyes snapping open to look into a pair of the prettiest amber-coloured eyes you’d ever seen.

‘Jasper,’ you breathed out as you sat up on your bed, taking in the sight of him standing at the foot of your bed, looking down at you with a mix of love and fear and worry in his eyes.

‘Hey, darlin’,’ he replied quietly, his Southern accent thick.

You inched your way to the end of the bed, standing up but losing your balance as you refused to take your eyes off of him, terrified that he would disappear if you so much as blinked. Jasper’s hands quickly came out to steady you and the feel of his cool fingers on the bare skin of your arms had you snapping out of the trance you seemed to be in and all of a sudden, tears were streaming down your face again as your fists began to hit at his chest. Your fists were surely going to bruise at the contact to his rock-hard chest and it would be having absolutely no effect on Jasper, yet he still moved backwards with every punch, as if your hits were physically hurting him.

‘You just left! I was a mess and you didn’t care! And then Esme told me that you’d been coming back here! Why? Why bother coming back if you don’t want me anymore? What are you even doing here?’ The feeling of his hands wrapping gently around your wrists, halting your movements, had your voice dying out in your throat and your sobs taking over your body as you let Jasper gently lower you down until you were both sitting down on the edge of your bed, your face buried in his chest as you continued to cry.

He held you tightly against him, his nose buried in your hair as his hand moved up to cup your cheek, wiping away your tears and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. ‘I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I thought if I left then it’d be safer for you. After everything that happened at Bella’s birthday last year, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if the same thing happened to you. I kept coming back because I couldn’t bear to be away from you but whenever I saw you, I thought you just needed more time to get over everything. It wasn’t until Carlisle and Esme told me that they’d spoken to you that I knew I had to come back for you. I missed you so much.’

‘I kept thinking that I saw you and it was driving me crazy and the thought of you not coming back because you didn’t want to see me, broke me all over again.’

‘I know, and I’m so sorry. I was stupid and you didn’t deserve any of that.’

‘You told me you didn’t love me anymore,’ you whispered in a shaky voice and you felt him still around you.

‘And I hate myself for it every single second that I exist. There won’t be a day where I won’t hate myself for saying that to you and, if you’ll let me, I’d like to spend the rest of my existence making it up to you.’

You pulled back to look at him and the guilt was written as plain as day in his eyes. Slowly, you moved your hand to cup his cheek and tilted your head until your lips lightly brushed against his, your breath escaping you at the feeling of his lips finally back on yours, something you’d missed for the last 365 days.

‘You’re definitely back?’ you asked nervously, not wanting to let yourself relax only for him to break your heard all over again.

‘For good this time, ma’am,’ he said, a small smirk in his voice as he laid the entirely of his Southern charm on you, knowing it made you weak in the knees before pressing his lips to yours again and gently pulling you both down onto the bed.

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader

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casdeans-pie · 10 months

Text

Combining these and writing fic at 12am *chefs kiss*

Thanks for the added detail that made me write this @dreampencil

---Read on AO3---

-------

The first time it happened, Cas almost convinced Dean that it hadn’t.

It was a hazard of the job that hunting ghosts inevitably led to grimy, abandoned, pile of crap houses that looked like a vengeful spirit’s wet dream. Full of rotted wood, endless layers of dust, and freaking spiders. Dean had probably seen more spiders than anyone ever should. But it was fine, because he wasn’t scared of them – he didn’t think there was a hunter alive who could do what they do and go where they go if they were – spiders were just a nuisance. A pest of the ghost-hunting variety. Dean thought nothing of wiping them from his hands or clothes or pushing through thick webs that always seemed to get everywhere.

So, when he noticed a particularly leggy spider creeping over the spikes of Cas’s hair during a hunt, of course he was going to brush it away.

Nobody wants a spider in their hair. Angel or not.

It hadn’t even been that much of a touch.

The two of them had been searching through what remained of the rotted kitchen cabinets while Sam looked upstairs, when Dean noticed the spider. In retrospect, maybe he should have said something first, but Cas had been engrossed in the contents of an old wooden drawer and Dean’s hand had simply twitched up to brush away the eldritch creature nesting in Cas’s hair before he’d even registered what he was doing.

Cas jumped violently as soon as Dean’s fingers made contact.

The single bare light bulb in the room hummed loudly as it flared and flickered. An old radio (covered in layers of years of grime and dust) crackled to life, despite being long disconnected from the power, and poured out a steady stream of static.

Then everything stopped.

The light returned to normal, the radio went silent, and Dean’s hand remained hovered awkwardly in the air where it had been since he brushed the spider away.

Cas stared at him with wide eyes.

Dean pointed at Cas’s head. “There was a- spider. In your hair,” he explained. “But uh- don’t worry, I got it.” Dean flashed him a smile, as if he’d performed a great service, and wiped his hand on his jeans. He took a step over to the radio and held up the disconnected cable. “Cas. The power just now-”

“Bad wiring,” Cas rumbled, holding Dean’s gaze. “Or maybe the ghost.”

Dean gave an unconvinced hum as he dropped the cable and rubbed his fingertips together. Cas’s hair had been softer than he’d expected… Not that he’d ever thought about running his hands through it or anything. But before Dean could linger on any of the new thoughts he was having, or ask another question about the mysterious power surge, the air had gone cold, and they were both ducking from a barrage of decorative plates flying around the room.

And Dean forgot all about it.

---Read the rest on AO3---

---

The first time it happened, Cas almost convinced Dean that it hadn’t.

The second time it happened was just part of a joke, an accident.

The third time it happened was an experiment.....

The fourth time it happened was on purpose.

#I will never be over this trope #destiel #destiel ficlet #deancas #destiel drabble #pie's projects #my fanfiction #castiel's angel powers #castiel headcanon #destiel headcanon

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thelov3lybookworm · 5 months

Text

Remember me? (Part 10)

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: hello babies! Please ignore any mistakes if you see one because I duchy have time to edit!

Anyways, I might write a readers pov of what was going on towards the end 😏

Enjoy!

(I'll edit the links in later 😉❣️)

•○🌑○•

Feyre's pov.

She chased after the two giggling boys, a smile on her face as she ignored the constant hammering on the mental shields she had around her mind. Laughed as she ignored the constant tugging on the bond that connected her to a male far away from her, the distance of courts separating two weeping hearts.

It had been a month since Feyre had winnowed into the Autumn Court Palace's doorstep, the sentries guarding the huge wood entrance startling at the sudden and impossible appearance of the high lady of the night court, tears streaming down her face, clutching the hand of a grinning three year old boy.

•○●⛦●○•

The night court heir looked around in wonder, his eyes going wide at the trees surrounding the magnificent Palace, his grin fading into a little o at the sheer size of it, a place that was gigantic to the little boy's eyes compared to the house he was used to.

Feyre sniffled, trying to stop the tears and be strong for her little boy who had yet to realise his mother was crying.

The sentries stood at attention after their initial shock faded, an armoured male stalking forward at the commotion, his lips parting as he realised that Feyre had winnowed directly inside the wards.

"Did you break the wards, cursebreaker?" The male, who Feyre assumed was the captain of the Guard, spat the title out like it was a curse, something to be ashamed of.

And Feyre was beginning to think that maybe it was.

Feyre had just opened her mouth to respond, to clear any misunderstandings, but another voice beat her to it.

"The high lord gave her permission to enter."

The male froze, his head lowering in deference as he turned to look at the owner of the voice.

She stood in a simple silk robe, her shoulders thrown back, the chilled night breeze gently whispering through her unbound hair, her cheecks red.

Y/n.

It seemed like a month in the autumn court had done her good.She looked more beautiful, making it unable to look away from her. Or maybe she had just become more confident, the worries weighing down her shoulder gone as she stood straight backed, her clear and bright eyes unblinking and unflinching as she stared down at the guard whose head was still lowered.

"The cursebreaker you are talking to is a friend, and you would do well to remember that."

Finally, Feyre looked away from Y/n long enough to glance at the new arrival, and had to resist the urge to cock an eyebrow.

Eris stood next to Y/n, his eyes blazing, hair sticking up in places as if he had been tugging at it and then hastily smoothed it back. He was shirtless, leaving all the mouth watering expanse of smooth, pale skin covering the rippling muscle underneath on display.

Though that was not what made Feyre curious.

The hand he had wrapped around Y/n's shoulders was.

Feyre met the eyes of her friend, who glanced at Eris for a long moment before shrugging out of his grip. He reluctantly lowered his arm, hurt flashing over his russet eyes before he covered it up.

Now Feyre was intrigued. Though the drilling of all the details Feyre wanted to know from Y/n would have to wait.

"Uncle Eris!" Nyx giggled, sprinting towards the red headed male, who tore his eyes from Y/n, grinning and opening his arms for the boy.

"Hello Nyx. How are you?"

"I'm good! Where is Fin?"

"He is sleeping. Come, I will take you to his room. I have already placed a bed next to his, so you can sleep in his room."

Nyx squealed happily as Eris carried him away with a last look at Y/n.

Feyre turned to Y/n, who approached her with a sad smile.

"I had hoped this day would never come." Y/n whispered, reaching out to grasp Feyre's hand.

"Me too."

•○●⛦●○•

Fin turned a corner, screeching in happiness, and Nyx followed.In the whole month Feyre and Nyx had been away from the night court, Nyx had never once asked about his father, so busy was he in spending his time with Fin.

His brother.

Feyre also followed the little boys, skidding to a stop when her eyes landed on a sight that she would describe as... funny.

Eris had his head practically shoved down a vase, inspecting the flowers potted in it, while Y/n stood a few feet away, caressing her fingers along the wall next to her in the alcove she was standing in, as if the wall felt lonely and she was soothing it with a gentle touch.

And both their cheeks were red, and the only way to describe the color was the red of an angry fire.

Y/n turned to her son and his brother giving them a dazzling smile as they ran up to her.

"Auntie Y/n! Do you want to play with us?"

Fin jumped eagerly at Nyx's question, and Y/n nodded, sparing a glance at Eris, who still couldn't find the brain he had dropped into the vase.

"Come, we have a few hours before dinner time, so we can play."

The children cheered, then grabbed each of Y/n's hands and began dragging her away.

With a last glance at Eris, who now stared at the retreating form of Y/n with a look Feyre couldn't decipher, she followed the kids and her friend.

She would have to pester Y/n for details of what was going on between her and Eris soon.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnight @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii

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mothgenes · 4 months

Text

My self-directed final for my digital illustration class, an illustration of this poem by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. Free Palestine.

Alt text underneath the cut.

Alt text: First image: This is an illustration contained in a white boarder with an uneven frayed appearance. In a war-torn scene absent of human life, streams of missile smoke rise from behind the central figure against a red sky that grows increasingly yellow towards the center immediately behind the central figure. The central figure is an Israeli Occupation Forces operative with his Israeli flag patch visible and a single blue eye with a white Star of David to reflect the flag inside it, the other eye consumed in shadow. The face is devoid of all visible expression, and a crack is visible coming from the shadowed eye over the clay-like skin of the soldier, meant to reference the concept of the IOF as a golem. The IOF officer raises a smoking automatic rifle and gazes down the composition with a lack of feeling. He stares down a little girl with long hair blowing in the wind who's back is to the viewer, with a bleeding crosshairs over half of her face where her eye would be. She wears a Palestinian flag over her shoulders that is also blowing in the wind, and the red triangle moves beyond its borders through the bloodstains that are on it. In the wreckage visible around the soldier, there is a fallen cross visible, close to the subtle shadow of a human hand, and destroyed buildings, bringing to mind the common lie that it is a religious conflict by reminding the viewer that churches and Palestinian Christians are also being murdered and struck with missiles. In the center of the image there is white handwritten text, of the first verse of the poem "From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi. It reads, "Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?" Page 2 alt text: The background is black with a trail of red smoke crossing the composition from the bottom right up and over to the top left in an uneven organic curve. At the bottom right there is the shattered clay head of a golem in a broken army-green helmet. One eye has been shattered and most of the face has been destroyed. There is a smear of blood over a shatter mark on our left's side of the forehead of the golem, as though made by a stone from a sling intended to subtly reference David and Goliath, with the IOF as Goliath. The smear of blood covers the first of three characters that make up the text usually down on the foreheads of golems. In folktales, the way to deactivate a golem is to wipe away the first character of their text, which normally reads "emét", which is truth in Hebrew. Removing the first character makes it say "mét", which means death. This calls for the retirement of the IOF as an entity as it does not help anything- only harms. White text is the main focus of this piece. The white text reads: From the Diary of an Almost-Four-Year-Old" by Hanan Mikha'il Ashrawi Tomorrow, the bandages will come off. I wonder will I see half an orange, half an apple, half my mother's face with my one remaining eye?

I did not see the bullet but felt its pain exploding in my head. His image did not vanish, the soldier with a big gun, unsteady hands, and look in his eyes I could not understand

I can see him so clearly with my eyes closed, it could be that inside our heads we each have one spare set of eyes to make up for the ones we lose

Next month, on my birthday, I'll have a brand new glass eye, maybe things will look round and fat in the middle— I've gazed through all my marbles, they made the world look strange.

I hear a nine-month old has also lost an eye, I wonder if my soldier shot her too—a soldier looking for little girls who look him in the eye— I’m old enough , almost four, I've seen enough of life, but she's just a baby who didn't know any better.

#free gaza #free palestine #gazaunderattack #gaza genocide #gaza ground invasion #palestine #hanan mikha'il ashrawi #palestinian poetry #artists for palestine #iof terrorism #fuck the iof #israel is a terrorist state

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missmielyhoran · 9 months

Text

Long Live

Harry does his first ever tiktok live...

90sRockstar!Harry × Model!Reader

A/N- i- just read this...I cried thinking about this

(It's 2023, Harry and Reader are in their early 50s, Jackson and Sophie- 19)

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

*****

"Angel do I look good?" Harry asks you as he props his phone on the stand Jackson setup before he went to the studio.

"You always do Baby" You chuckled from the loveseat watching your husband fix his graying hair for millionth time.

It's been a long time since Harry and band stopped performing. The last album they released was almost five years ago and today was band's 25th birthday. So, Harry's management asked him to do a live stream.

He obviously didn't how amything worked considering the old man he was which you always told he wasn't seeing as people your age were still having kids while yours were about to go to college.

He felt old.

He noticed the whole time he was live as multiple comments rolled in. He thought tiktok was fun, Sophie even got him to make some with him which he thought was silly but again very fun.

"Hi I'm Harry" He introduced himself as if everyone already didn't know who he was. You shook your head amused.

"Oh there are so many people. How do I talk to them? Is it like face time?" He asked you but you were just as confused.

"I think you read the comments and reply to them babe" You guessed as you saw multiple people asking different questions and some sending weird emojis.

"Oh" He read the comments and laughed, "They want to see you Angel" He said and pulled you from the loveseat to beside him and wrapped his arms around your frame.

"Hi" You said laughing.

"As you all know it's my band's 25th anniversary so I decided to this live thingy my kids taught me the other day. I can't perform anymore any of us can't especially Mitch and his old man bones" he said teasingly knowing his best friend will see this.

"My kids are so smart cause if it was upto me I would've never been able to do this" He said as he read people finding it funny and sweet that he didn't know how to use tiktok.

As if on queue Sophie walked into the living room typing away on her phone.

"Sweety come here and say hi. I'm live on tiktok" Harry said eagerly. Sophie laughed and slid beside her dad putting her head on his shoulder.

"Do you guys know she got into Harvard? All by herself." Harry said proudly, "I don't even know where she got it from none of us are smart"

"Hey, I'm smarter than you" You said slapping his chest.

"I'm dumb as fuck Angel, Evie is smarter than me" He said laughing which turned into a cackle when Evie meowed from her bed half asleep across the room.

Harry decided to read some more comments and you decided to get onto preparing lunch. Sophie sat on the sofa letting her dad do her thing but also be there if he needed something.

"Hey, sweetie what does b and 4 means?" Harry asked quizzical to his daughter.

"It means before dad, like b and four" She explained, Harry's face morphed into a 'ohh' expression.

"That's smart" He said nodding his head. He read some more comments when someone put sunglasses on his face.

"Someone put sunglasses on me" He laughed and posed as if he was wearing real sunglasses, "This is fun"

He saw someone say 'brb gotta cry' and he felt bad, "I don't know who brb is but please don't cry" He said his lips turning into a soft frown.

Sophie laughed from her seat and explained to her dad that it didn't mean someone was literally crying which made him feel embarrassed flushing his face a bit.

Harry was having fun with this new technology nonetheless and Sophie was having fun watching her dad experience new things. She knew this will be added to the plathora of Harry Styles compilations there are on YouTube (which he very much enjoys watching).

She was lost in thought of maybe teching him how to use instagram and maybe doing a live there also when he spoke up again.

*****

"Why are so many people here calling me dilf? what's a dilf?" He asked confused and Sophie decided that she is not letting him do live again.

Idk where this came from I was listening to Long live by Tay. also by sweating I meant this emoji 🥵

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs

Like, Comment and Reblog cause it really helps me🩷

If you liked it please tell me here♡ and I love you guysssss

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mikisspeak · 2 months

Note

the continuation of that dreadful fic.

Wife!Reader who neatly packs all of her clothes and belongings in her 5 piece luggage set, tears streaming down her face.

Nanami who arrived home exhausted, wife!reader nowhere to be found but what was found was a sticky note and divorce papers already signed with wife!reader signatures on her assigned lines.

The sticky note reads…

Dear Nanami Kento,

I don’t want to be a hinderance to you pursuing your dream of becoming a father. Maybe you could find someone else who could fulfill that dream of yours :)

~Love, (Name).

Will he sign the papers?

…ANON, GO TO THE CORNER.

2nd. Part of this small fic.

Cw: Old! Nanami and Wife! Reader (in their early 40’s (yeah, they’re old asf, don’t blame me.), no curse! AU. Little bit of angst but mostly comfort and fluff(? At the end.

Nanami who asks everyone he knows where you might be, always receiving awkward but knowing expression from all your and his friends till Gojo finally gives him an address after Nanami explained to him how important this was, the white haired being unable to just ignore the suffering on his sort of-friend’s face.

Nanami who steps on the outside of your parents’ door, knocking with a nervous, serious expression before you finally open the door, committing the error of not checking who it was by the windows before…

Nanami who sees your person on the other side of the door frame and just practically throws himself over you, your expression in shock as you just stand there with his arms wrapped around you so tightly you wouldn’t be able to break out of it. Not that you wanted though..That soft but firm touch of his and the little tears that almost dare to spill from his eyes got you in that same position, in shock and with a ton of questions to ask before your husband interrupts every thought in your mind with a shaky but firm voice.

“No, my love..I don’t want anything or anyone other than you. Since i met you I’ve realized the only thing i need to be happy is you and only you. Your soft smile and delicate touch on me when i come stressed from work..Your positive words after all that has happened, not caring if you were the one in true pain..I just love you, your spark, your body, your smile..I miss every little memory and moment we had, and i don’t care about something like a family. We’re a family. And i don’t want nothing more than this.”

“Even if it means never having children?”

Your voice came out shaky.

“Even if it means not having children.”

Nanami and Wife! Reader who are back on their lives, the spark on their relationship returning the moment reader steps back on their small, happy department. The divorce papers discarded like the same idea.

Nanami and Wife! Reader who now have adopted a nice teenager of pink hairs named Itadori with a positive and beautiful smile. “Just like her mother’s” Nanami always says. A beautiful and obedient boy that becomes the joy of your lives after so long.

Nanami and Wife! Reader years after..Finally getting retired and with their deserved need, buy a small house close to the breathtaking beaches of Malaysia, just like Nanami and her always wanted, that painful memory of what they didn’t had already forgotten as they recovered and created new ones, happier ones. Only needing of each other and their little family…

A/n: It took everything on me not to make it even sadder, i deserve a thank you for that 😔

Hope you enjoyed¡! ღ

#jjk nanami #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk #angst #jjk angst #comfort #jjk comfort #i had to fight every cell on my body to don’t make it even more dreadful

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didhewinkback · 10 months

Text

chug

a something old blurb about the beer whale (whale beer?) (wheer?) (bhale?)

warning: slight smut at the end bc i know thats what the people come to see

---

“Just stand where I can see yeh’” was the request he mumbled into your hair before kissing you on the cheek and heading to the huddle, leaving you free to roam, beers in hand, determined to enjoy the show from a new vantage point, surrounded by the crew members you’ve gotten to know and love over the years.

You spent the first half with Sandy and Sarah and the catering legends, giggling and dancing to the songs you all knew like the back of your hand at this point, locking eyes with him when he brought out Wet Leg, big smirk on his face as he sauntered up to the mic, eyes burning into yours while he sang one line of the chorus over and over, fire in his eyes when you sang it right back to him.

You duck down to the front of the stage for the second half, ensuring the lads were well hydrated with water and beer alike, feeling like your heart was going to burst watching him have the time of his life on that stage. In utter disbelief at what the past two and half years have been for him and you both, watching him soar to new heights you always knew were possible but couldn’t imagine seeing play out in real time, the boy whose school band played at your 15th birthday party now singing to stadiums across the world, loving every second and being loved in return.

He’s at his best when he’s up there, his big, open heart ripe for the taking, making the crowd of thousands feel like a small room of his closest friends, relishing in the attention, the screams, the insatiable energy, gratitude radiating out of every fiber of his being. It’s enough to make you weep when you think about it for too long, an impossible to articulate experience of watching the person you love most in this world achieve their dreams over and over again.

It’s overwhelming, mind-blowing and also really fucking fun, you think, cheers-ing with the lads as you started another round of beer (it is the end of tour after all), watching as Harry runs across the stage, picking up his water bottle, poised for the classic whale, almost like clockwork. But this time, he pauses, doing a quick double take when he sees you down front with the crew.

He gestures to your half drunk cup, ushering it towards him as you hold it up to the cheers of your group, Brad’s long arms aiding the transfer as Harry takes it from him and after smiling back at the band, downs it in one go, much to the delight of the lads. They’re goading him on, chanting his name, but everything whites out around you as all you can focus on is the way his throat moves, the beer that misses his mouth falling onto his naked chest, dripping down in a way that makes you feel warm all over. Never one to mind a messy face.

It’s over in seconds but feels like it went on for ages, a time bending effect he always seems to have on you. He winks at you before placing the cup down, facing the crowd fully as he spits it into the air, wide grin on his face as you all cheer before he runs to the other side of the stage.

It’s much later, after the final songs, the emotional thank yous, the celebratory post-show drinks on the beach with the whole crew, that you stumble into bed together, both a bit drunk off the booze and each other, burning up from one too many lingering stares across the party, whispered conversations about how good he looked up there, your beer all over him, his ripped chest gleaming in the spotlight. He’s pressing you into the mattress in record time, hands sliding all over your body as his lips leave their mark on your skin, breath catching at the never-ending stream of praise leaving your mouth as you get lost in each other, in this night, consumed by overwhelming pride and love and the carnal need to have each other close.

“You’re proud of me, huh?” he grunts into your ear, hand sliding down your thigh to hike it up around his hip, the new angle making the both of you moan out loud. “Y’ love me?”

“Yes, H. Fuck. So much, I -”

“Want y’ to show me,” he says, voice deep in your ear as he smacks a kiss to your cheek, your temple, biting at your lips while his hands slide up your body, interlacing your fingers to hold your hands over your head, his chest sliding against yours. “Be my good girl and show me how proud y’ are, how much y’love me. Want to see it. Want to feel it. C’mon baby, show me -”

So you do.

Again.

And again.

---

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

#truly did not edit this in the slightest my laptop is about to die so am just saying fuck it and posting #ya girl is 3/3 for final show blurbs wow what a time to be alive #i am illl and mentally unwell but i am a dreamer #omg these tags #okay #pls let me know what you think messages are what make the world go around #aka my world #omg my laptop is losing it so am i #harry styles blurb #something old

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Warm Eyes

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, human?Reader, Fluff, Courting, MC kinda wary of kook at first, but he's cute give him a chance pls

Additional Chapter Warnings: fluff

Length: Short (because tumblr eats long drafts these days)

A/N: no one's asking for drabbles so I'll make my own and force feed you until you'll like this AU

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Every year, you look forward to this festival time.

Not because you're very social, but more so, because it's a time where you can finally act the way your inner dragonblood wants you to, without being judged for it. Just like right now, as you're lying on your back in the woods, wind occasionally blowing through the tall tree crowns above, birds filling the silence while the small stream of water nearby adds to the scenery around you. It's what you crave the entire year around- this moment of absolute comfort, simply existing without the pressure to make the most out of your time.

You can hear footsteps at some point, and as the wind turns, you immediately catch the scent of the one dragonkin currently trying to win you over in the span of time you're both spending here for the festival. "Is this your attempt at hunting me down?" You giggle to yourself, though you do snap up into a halfway sitting position when he's suddenly speaking right into your ear.

"I wasn't even remotely trying." He chuckles, especially at your clear look of shock for a second.

"…whatever." You mumble, sitting up next to him now, legs pulled close as you watch him sit down properly next to you as well. "Do they need me at camp?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, I was just wondering where you were when I couldn't find you at breakfast this morning." He shrugs. "So I went out to find you."

"Stalking me now then?" You glare at him, and he laughs.

"I'd call it 'making sure my potential future mate is okay' but, you can call it whatever you want." The dragonkin smiles, catching you off guard yet again as you hide a little so he won't see you flush in shyness, before simply laying back down onto your blanket. And by peeking through your eyes after a short while of silence, you can see him still sitting right next to you- hands resting in the grass, arms holding up his body as he calmly watches his surroundings ahead, wind sometimes blowing his curls around. You watch how he has to move them out of his face every now and then, and can't help but snicker a bit to yourself at the sight.

And he just smiles as well, as he watches you sit up.

"Turn around." You tell him softly, and much to your surprise, he easily does just as told without even so much as asking to why you'd request that from hjm. It shows how much he already puts his trust in you, even if it's just small things like this.

You've never actually touched Jungkook up until this point. Not really, at least. His hair is thick but surprisingly soft as you collect parts of it hands careful at not tying it too tightly to hurt- only to somewhat help with it falling into his eyes all the time. "Thanks." He smiles as he turns back around. "It's never been so long before.. so I still forget a hairtie from time to time." He chats, and you shrug, as you lie back down, though now on your side to better look at him.

"That's fine." You shrug. "I always have one on me." You tell him- and the implication of it makes him unable to hide his grin, considering he's been noticing those small steps towards him from time to time now. You're slowly starting to show your interest in him, step by step involving yourself more and more into the whole process of getting to know him better it seems like.

And its fueling his determination.

"Did you plan on taking a nap out here?" He asks, and you nod, before you scoot a bit on your blanket, making room for him. It's a silent invitation to something much more than just for him to lay down next to you.

There's a saying amongst dragons, that those who fall asleep together will meet in dreams as well. And dreams of dragons all hold meaning- though most of those things have been somewhat lost to time at this point.

Jungkook seems to have trouble though, the small ponytail you'd tied of his hair pressing into the back of his head uncomfortably. "Just take it out if it bothers you." You giggle, watching him struggle.

"But.. you did it." He almost whines. "I don't want to take it out."

"I can tie it up again later." You roll your eyes, pulling the hairtie out of his hair. "Just remind me, and I'll do it again."

"Whenever I like?" He asks, cheekily hopeful as he looks at you next to him.

"Hm, sure." You shrug, before you close your eyes, and boldly turn to your side, hand on his chest as if to be connected to him in your sleep.

And so he holds your hand over his chest in his own during his sleep as well, as you both meet in dreams where you fly above the clouds.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader

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thebunnyslibrary · 6 months

Text

Sunlight

summary. You've prayed so long for warmth...then one day your prayers are answered.

characters. Sun God!Steve x Reader

wc. ~3.7k words

warning. none

BunBun’s Spoop-tober Collection Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Your one grace in life was that you had been left on the steps of the most prestigious temple as a babe. No name, only yourself in a basket with a bouquet of sunflowers, meant as an offering to the Sun God to protect you. When you were old enough, you worked hard to prove you deserved a place, wanting to please the gods. The other women of the temple, all from upper class families whose families had paid for their positions, looked down upon you. They felt as though you were a showoff, favored above others by the higher priestesses, and as such, never spoke to you unless absolutely necessary. The higher priestesses treated you kindly, true; but were matronly above all else and often a bit aloof. As such, in the temple of the sun, you often felt cold and alone, talking only quietly to yourself. You sought the warmth and comfort for someone to call your own. And to call you theirs in turn.

You kept a small private garden out behind your living quarters. The temple had a communal garden, but the other women left you only gravely rock unfit to grow anything. But you’d found a small, very fertile patch deep in the woods in a clearing by a stream. You’d managed to grow sunflowers, having stolen a few seeds from the kitchens. You worried this would make the gods angry, but instead every seed you planted grew into a beautiful bloom. And from those blooms, you were able to gather more seeds. Some of which you kept on your person, some of which you packaged and shared with the less fortunate people you met in the village, and the rest you continued to cultivate for yourself; pressing the flowers in your journals to preserve their beauty or using them to make paints.

One cold night, only a few days away from the harvest festival to celebrate the new year; you’d gathered a bushel of the brightest sunflowers from your garden and stowed away into the temple, hoping to offer tribute to bring warmth into your life The warm air in the temple was a welcome protection from chilly air outside, thanks to the large fire pit in the center of the room. Some of the older priestesses were tidying up and nodded simply at you before leaving; giving you privacy.

You knelt before the altar of the sun and laid the flowers down. You weren’t sure exactly what to say; now feeling foolish and selfish when you knew there were so many more worthy things to ask for, to help people. But you found yourself saying

“Please, shine your light on me. Let me find someone to warm me and comfort me when I am lonely.” The air was still for a moment, then the crackling of the fire became louder. You turned and saw the fire was growing. Bigger and brighter, it grew until you were blinded and feared its burn. Then your world went dark.

You awoke on what you were was a cloud. You stretched out your hand, feeling the sheets that were smoother than silk. You opened your eyes enough to see a sheer golden lace canopy hanging overhead. You sat up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy; trying to gather where you were and what happened. You looked around to see you were on an enormous bed with golden yellow blankets and pillows.

“Here, drink this.” A voice spoke and you jumped, turning to the source. Your eyes had to adjust, like looking up at the sky on a bright sunny day. But your mouth gaped open as you took him in. Tall and massive like a mountain, he had a body that seemed sculpted from clay. Broad shoulders held up a dark blue tunic, exposing strong arms. A man’s beard framed a boyish smile with golden blonde hair and striking blue eyes that were full of knowledge…and hunger. He was standing at the foot of the bed, in his hand was a golden goblet.

You looked around the rest of the room, admiring the tall shelves full of books. A fireplace housed a roaring fire. But what drew your eye most were the vases of sunflowers. There seemed to be at least one on every flat surface, all holding flowers that looked like the ones you’d been growing for the last few years. He stepped closer and sat down at the edge of the bed, leaving space between you two.

“They are, indeed, little one.” he said, smiling and again offering the goblet. You were hesitant at first, but as you sat near him, you felt more comfortable, familiar. You carefully took the goblet from him and sipped it slowly. The taste was nothing more than water, but when you swallowed, you felt warmer, more alive than you’d ever felt.

“Wow” you gasped, swallowing the rest of it down easily. “Who are you?” He shifted closer to you, running his hand down your cheek.

“Pity. You’ve spent so much time talking to me, I’d thought you’d know me by now.” He leaned forward, taking the goblet away and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The cup vanished, as if it had never existed to begin with and you were left aghast.

“Talking to you? But I only ever spoke to myself in the…” Realization dawned on you. “No, I couldn’t…this couldn’t” you were sitting in the bedroom…in the very house of the Sun God.

“You can call me Steven, little lamb.”

“No…but…I’m not worthy…” your eyes started to tear up, fearing this was some sort of punishment or damnation. But he wiped your tears away with his thumbs, soothing you.

“No, my beauty. You have proven yourself more than worthy. I have watched you over these many years. I have seen how hard you work, your kind heart; You want to only create beauty in this world and to make me happy. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor.” He took your hands, helping you stand up from the bed. As you moved, your simple robes turned into a beautiful sky-blue dress to compliment his dark tunic.

“Come, my love.” He took your arm in his and escorted you out of the bedroom, down a hallway and out into a beautiful garden. There were flowers and plants you could scarcely imagine. And of course, miles of sunflowers. Small creatures, bunnies you saw in particular, scurried about. And brightly overhead, the sun and air made everything feel fresh and new.

“I hope you like it.” Steven said. “I can imagine you’ll probably spend quite a lot of time out here. If not spent in the library, or my art studio. Or our bed.” Steven teased, wrapping his arm around you and you pulling you close to him in a tight hug. His forwardness making you squeak. You stared up at him, still in shock at what was happening.

“But…why me? There are many other girls in the temple, far more worthy than me. Surely, you would want one of them for a bride.”

“Worthy? Who could be more worthy than you? I told you; I’ve seen you, right down to your soul and every beautiful thought you’ve had.” Steven explained.

“But I have nothing…no status or power. I am not fit to be the lover of a god.” You turned away from him, not wanting him to see you cry. But his only response was to wrap his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head and holding tightly.

“Believe me, you are worth more than a thousand of any one of those harpies. They seek only greed and power for themselves and their status. They do not wish to see the beauty in existence, only its next step up. You write beautiful poetry, grow flowers just to admire them, you have always given warmth; you deserve some in return.”

You considered his words. He was right, you’d never once wanted the phenomenal power the gods were said to bestow. Being a child of the temple, you had no family status to speak of, no wealth. You knew those did not bring the happiness and warmth a good book or a warm meal could bring to you. What was money and power if there was no one you loved to share it with? Steven leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Come, I have another room to show you.”

The room he brought you too was enormous. Floor to ceiling windows on 3 walls looked out into the garden you’d been in. Half-finished sketches and paintings were strewn about. The back wall was covered with paintings, drawings, sketches, all beautiful landscapes. Green forests that stretched on for miles, beaches with oceans that blurred into the sky above, and mountains that towered above valleys below.

“Did you make all these?” You said, staring and examining each one.

“I did, and they’re all real. I’ll take you to any of them you want to go and more places even beautiful than those.” Steven promised.

You stopped in front of a painting of a field with a river surrounded by woods. You looked closely and your jaw dropped in recognition when you saw the patch of sunflowers; it was your garden. And you were even more surprised as you leaned in closer to see the river in the painting was actually moving, the leaves on the trees rustled in the wind, and a deer walked slowly into the clearing, ate some grass, then continued off out of view of the page.

“Steven…you…you made this?”

“Yes, my love. I could not speak to you directly, but I could hear you in my temple, every wish and desire. I did my best to make and give you what I could, hoping and waiting you would speak to me directly in the temple.” He said. You smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting. But your work certainly is incredible.” He stood next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Thank you, my love. But it all pales in comparison to you.” Your cheeks heated up, suddenly finding the floor very interesting to look at. But Steve cupped your chin, pulling your face back towards his.

“Let your god worship you for once.” He pressed his lips against yours and you somehow seemed to get even warmer. Steven’s arms wrapped around you, scooping you up as if you were weightless and carrying you back towards the bedroom. He set you back on the bed, kneeling next to you to remove your sandals. He placed soft kisses on your ankles and slowly up your legs.

“I promise to be gentile for your first time.” He whispered.

“Steven…” You bit your lip, trying to find the words. “For my first time, I want you; all of you. I want to feel everything…” His blue eyes grew darker.

“If you want to feel, little lamb. I’ll make sure you feel. Lay back on the bed.” You moved to scoot up towards the headboard and your dress disappeared, leaving you in only a pair of yellow panties. “My sunlight.” Steven sighed, his own tunic disappearing as he knelt between your legs. A pair of black undershorts revealed a large bulge that had your thighs clenching. Steve licked his lips.

“So cute. Relax, baby. I’ll make sure you’re good and ready before we get there.” He leaned in to kiss you, taking your hands and bringing them up to grab his hair. “Don’t let go until I say you can.” You bit your lip and nodded. A small “Yes Steven” squeaking past your lips.

“Such a good girl.” He slowly kissed you again before kissing down your neck and chest, pausing to kiss across your breasts before continuing his kisses downward until he reached the hem of your panties. He nudged your thighs apart, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. He inhaled deeply and let out a little moan.

“Your little pussy smells so sweet. I’ll bet you’re soaked for me, aren’t you baby? You should be. I can’t wait to taste this pussy. You’ll have to offer it to your god every day, understood?” You nodded, pressing your hips up and holding his hair tightly, making him groan low.

He moved his hand over your panties, and they seemed to burn away, leaving only a warm tingle between your legs. He winked and you found yourself giggling like a schoolgirl at his charisma and powers. He truly was a god but all he wanted was your pleasure.

He hooked one arm under your legs and lifted you up slightly, reminding you of his godly strength. His eyes found yours. His voice was low. “Watch. Watch me feast on my sacrifice.” He wasted no time licking a long streak up your slit. A breathy moan left your lips and he smiled. “Such beautiful sounds you make, little dove. And they’re all mine for all eternity.”

He continued his ministrations, using his fingers on one hand to draw circles around your clit while his tongue licked at every inch of your pussy, lewd sucking noises were absolutely filthy and sinful coming from his divine lips.

“So, fucking good…” he murmured. “And all mine forever.” Using his other hand, he brought two fingers and slowly pushed them into your pussy, rubbing against the special spot you could never quite reach. You had touched yourself once or twice in the solace of your room, but you’d never felt anything near this amazing. His warm touch was setting the rest of your body on fire.

“Steven…please…” You were gripping his hair for dear life, every tug making him groan against you.

“Yes, my love; are you going to cum? I want to taste every drop. You are true ambrosia, nectar of the gods.” He rubbed your clit faster. “Cum my little star. Cum for me.” Your body tightened as you fell into the abyss of pleasure, screaming his name and bucking your hips into his face. He kept his word, licking every part of you he could reach as his hands slowed, letting you ride out the rest of your climax

When you finally came down from your high, you looked down and saw how tightly your thighs were gripping his head. You snapped your legs open.

“I’m sorry…did I hurt you?” But Steven only chuckled, his voice low. He took your hands from his head, kissing your palms and wrists; he climbed bed up the bed to meet you, kissing your lips so that you could taste yourself on him.

“You are worried about hurting me, little lamb." He mused. “Never apologize for that, love. I would happily perish with my head between your thighs if you wished.” Your face heated up and you weren’t sure how to respond. Steven lay next to you, and you wrapped your arms around him, snuggling close to his chest.

“This has to be a dream.” You said, a tear running down your cheek.

“Why do you say that as if you’re expecting me to shove you away at a moment’s notice?” Steven asked, his voice full of concern.

“It’s all I’ve ever known, I suppose. I still do not understand why you have chosen me. Someone so inexperienced, so broken.” At this, Steven looked down at you.

“Oh, sweet thing, A soul that's born in cold and rain knows sunlight. Oh, your love is sunlight.” He kissed you again; then turned you so that you were on top of him. He held your hips tightly and the way he looked at you made you feel even smaller.

“It’s your turn now, little one. Take your pleasure as you see fit.” Fit… when he turned you over, his shorts had vanished, and now you could feel his cock prodding against you. And from what you could feel, you weren’t sure how on earth he WOULD fit. You’d heard some of the other women at the temple boasting about their past experiences. But Steven, you’re sure, would put all their former lovers to shame. He nudged his cock against your ass. You swallowed and adjusted so that you were kneeling over his cock.

“Breathe, little love. There is no rush to our pleasure.” You met his eyes and saw only love and warmth. Letting go of the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, you lowered yourself, gasping as the head of his cock penetrated you.

“Fuck.” You let yourself sink lower, moaning at the feeling of him filling you up as your pussy flexed and squeezed his cock. His hold on your hips tightened as you watched his eyes roll back. Steven moaned and you bit your lip, watching a strong god fall apart. You flexed around him again, but he gave a sharp smack to your ass that made you yelp.

“Don’t get cheeky there, dove. You do not want to test a god’s strength.” He purred. With newfound confidence and strength, fueled by his love and devotion, you smirked and traced your finger down his chest, tweaking one of his nipples.

“I thought you were here for my pleasure.” you said, leaning into kiss him, but biting his bottom lip instead. Steven’s pupils were blown wide with lust.

“You’re waving a red flag in front of a bull darling. If you keep teasing me, I won’t be able to control myself.” Curious, you now steadied yourself on his chest.

“So…what?” you replied kissing him and flexing your muscles again. He groaned into the kiss and took one of his hands from your hips, wrapping it around your throat. When you pulled away from the kiss his eyes were full of hunger and desire, but no malice. Even the grip around your throat was loose enough you had no trouble breathing, but strong enough you could feel his power.

In a flash, you once again found yourself on your back, Steven’s hand still wrapped around your throat. His cock had slipped from your pussy, but he spread your legs wide, teasing your entrance. Steven leaned down close.

“Be careful playing with a god of the sun, little lamb. Or you may wind up burnt.” He warned playfully. But you only smiled up at him, saying “I would gladly be the Icarus to your certainty. With wax melted, I'd meet the sea, my sunlight.”

Kissing you passionately, Steven pushed his cock even further in you and making you gasp, feeling like you were going to split in two. He started to move his hips, pulling his cock out slowly, letting you feel every inch before thrusting back in hard. His hand went between your legs, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it. You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm; you both knew it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge. And you could tell Steven was getting closer to when his pace picked up and his thrusts became harder and faster.

“I’m going to fill you, dove. Bind you to me so that we are one heart, thrust one mind thrust one soul.” He grunted. “Forever.”

“Yes…yes…please…I’m yours Steven.” You cried; your hand wrapped around his that was around your throat. You were so warm; every stroke of his cock inside you stoked the flames of desire and lust.

“Cum for me, star. Cum for your god.” Steven said, moaning as he chased his own release. You came even harder than you had earlier as Steven stilled above you and you could feel his cum filling you, making you moan even more.

For a few moments, there was just the sounds of the two of you heavy breathing, your hearts beating together. You felt your muscles tense and relax as you seemed to almost melt into the bed. You opened your eyes to see Steven smiling down at you before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Someday, my love. I’ll have to paint you like this.” Your mind was hazy in post orgasmic fog, and you could only nod. He gathered you in his arms and, still joined together, moved you two together so that you were laying on your sides. Now, in this moment of post coital bliss, you were able to see his face closely. He seemed ageless but weathered at the same time. Like a man who had seen or knew too much.

“I still don’t know if I’m suited to be the lover of a god. My own parents didn’t even want me.” You said. Steven sighed.

“Do not think too harshly of them dove. I saw your parents. Your father was sick, your mother was destitute. They brought you to my temple in hopes of a better future.” You thought on his words. For years, the girls at the temple tormented you, convincing you that you were unwanted, unloved. Now to hear the truth, relief washed over you and you seemed more at peace than ever before. A few tears threatened to fall over. But Steve kissed your cheeks. “Such a weepy bride I have” he joked. You smiled.

“I was often teased for my sensitive nature.” You admitted.

“I know. And it wounded me every time you spoke to me about when it occurred. But it is never a weakness to show compassion and care. That is why I chose you for my bride.”

“You know, I don’t recall an actual engagement.” You teased.

“You’re right. I suppose I’ll have to ask you.” He leaned in close. “One letter at a time...on your pussy.” You squeaked and he smiled, kissing your forehead. “Trust your god little one. I promise you shall want or need for nothing. I will love you and hold you close to my heart for all eternity.” Keeping to his word, he held you closer to his chest and you noticed the blankets had surrounded the two of you. “Rest now, little dove. When you awaken, there will be a great feast to celebrate and welcome you as my bride.” And there you slept. In your shared comfort and warmth.

#bunbun's spooptober collection #halloween #halloween fanfics #steve rogers x reader #mythology au #god!steve rogers #steve rogers fics #steve rogers #chris evans fics

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raplinesmoon · 1 year

Text

Turn Back Time (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

warnings: bodyswap au (kind of), alternating pov, teenage insecurities, bullying, Seokjin is confused, mention of sports injury, thirst, mentions of hangover, sassy thirteen year olds, mentioned infidelity (not between main characters), cheating (like in sports), swearing, angsty confessions, smut warnings: nudity, Seokjin pops a semi at the wrong time, soft!dom Jin, making out, heavy petting, dry humping, nipple play, unprotected s*x (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 13.3k a/n: a very happy early 30th bday to our WWH! This is my submission for the Catch of The Century collab hosted by myself, @joheunsaram, and @kithtaehyung! I was super excited writing the role reversal with Seokjin, and 13 Going On 30 is only one of my favorite movies ever (seriously, it never misses on every single rewatch). I also just miss Jin so much T_T I hope you all enjoy 💜 also ty to Mars for beta-reading this as well!

listen to the playlist here!

The envelope crinkles as it’s handed to Seokjin, and his heart drops before he can even pause his iPod and yank his earbuds out, the Black Eyed Peas providing the soundtrack to his humiliation.

Sighing, he looks at his face twisted mid-expression, half-smile and half-grimace, the metal of his braces glinting against the camera flash, and wonders why the photographer had even bothered counting down if he wasn’t going to wait for him to smile for the photo anyway. Not to mention the packet had been inappropriately labeled “Suckjin”. His eomma would be so disappointed. Looking around, he pushes his glasses up onto his nose before shoving the damn thing into his backpack, where it hopefully wouldn’t see the light of day for a few more hours.

“Kim!”

Seokjin bites back a groan at the voice bellowing in the hallway, turning to see Jackson Wang and his posse of baseball boys strolling up to him. He and Jackson weren’t friends, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, but it wasn’t like they hated each other either. They had a mutual agreement - Seokjin would offer to do Jackson’s algebra homework for the semester, and Jackson promised him a try-out spot for the school’s baseball team.

To Seokjin, it was worth it. The baseball team was at the height of status in their janky middle school - everyone knew the players on the team were the coolest, sporting the finest threads walking through the hallways, and tipping their caps to make the girls scream. But it was more than that - for as long as he could remember, Seokjin had always been the lame kid. The one that faded into the background, hiding his acne-laden face under his mop of dark hair, constantly fiddling with his glasses. He hated that.

For once, he wanted to be the special one. The one who hit the winning home run at the game, the one who made all his fellow students and teachers scream with joy, who brought the school to victory. Then no one would ever forget him again. And now, with a try-out spot on the horizon, he finally got his chance.

“Did you hear about that new chick that moved here?” Jackson’s laugh interrupts Seokjin’s stream of intrusive thoughts, and he shoves his iPod into his book. “She’s supposed to be hot stuff.”

“Dude, you should totally hit her up,” DK, one of Jackson’s cronies, eggs him on with a guffaw. Jackson waves him away with an annoyed look, telling them he needs to talk to Seokjin for a second.

His tall, muscular figure looms over Seokjin’s scrawny one, the hard surface of the locker meeting his back.

“Sooo, I know try-outs were supposed to be tonight,” Jackson drawls, looking Seokjin over. “Big day, right?”

He’s unable to respond with anything but a gulp, knowing something was up. It always was with Jackson.

“Well, stupid Mr. Kang decided that we’d have a take-home assignment, and it’s due at the end of the week. I hate to cancel tryouts, I know how much you were looking forward to them, but we’ve gotta bust our asses for this, you know how it is.”

“I-, I could do the assignment for you,” Seokjin blurts out, finally summoning the bravery to speak. This was his once chance. He couldn’t screw it up now.

“Excellent,” Jackson’s eyes glint with mischief, his head turning to regard Seokjin with interest. He claps him on the back, the force of his palm causing Seokjin to sputter, before walking away with a wink.

“See ya later, Kim!”

The bell rings, and Seokjin immediately makes a beeline for the bathroom, changing out of the argyle patterned vest that his mother had put him in for picture day, and into his well-loved, too-large pair of Nike gym shorts that he’d found for $3 at Goodwill. Looking in the dusty mirror, he checks himself out, making sure he looked the exact part of a baseball player. His unruly hair sticks up everywhere. Sighing in frustration, Seokjin lets the water under the sink run, wetting his hands and combing it back until it lays off his face.

Great, now he looked like he hadn’t taken a shower in a week.

“Baseball try-outs?” a voice next to him squeaks, and he turns to see another kid right next to him, shorter by an inch or two, his heart-shaped smile looking up at him.

“You too?” he asks the kid, who erupts into giggles, his laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Nahhhh, it’s the dance team for me, I’m Hobi by the way,” he reaches out his hand for Seokjin to shake. Seokjin takes the hand with hesitation. Hobi seemed nice, if not a little weird. He reminded Seokjin of himself.

“Dance team? Isn’t that kind of lame though?”

“What do you mean?” Hobi asks him with curious eyes. “It’s not any more lame than following around Jackson Wang and his posse of meatheads. It’s more original.”

Hobi straightens up when he sees the clock, the time hitting both of them.

“Oop! I gotta go, I’ll see you later dude! Good luck with try-outs!” he waves Seokjin goodbye, rushing out the door.

Hobi’s words about being original weigh heavily on Seokjin, and he wonders if doing all this would be worth it in the end. After a few minutes of contemplation, Seokjin decides it is. He doesn’t want to be original, he thinks, he just wants to be cool.

“Seokjinnie! Show Eomma the pictures,” his mom pinches his cheeks, one hand on the steering wheel. Seokjin scowls, wishing she’d hurry up. They were going to be late for tryouts.

“Eomma, can you please just give it a break?” he grumbles, but she reaches into his bag anyway, peeking at the envelope with the preview.

“Oh, you look sooo handsome my boy!” she coos, beaming at the photo of him with his braces showing. Was she for real?

“Eomma, stop calling me that! I hate my life,” he whines, slumping into his seat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his most treasured baseball card, Albert Pujols staring him back in the face. Why couldn’t he be more like his hero? Not the awkward, bumbling thirteen-year-old Seokjin that he was, but an all-star.

“I wish I was thirty,” he sighs, and he watches his Eomma purse her lips.

“Seokjinnie,” she says as she pulls into the parking lot of the baseball field. “Eomma loves you very much, you know that, right? Whether you’re thirteen or thirty.”

She presses a wet kiss to his cheek, her lipstick leaving a faint pink smudge on him.

“Eomma ewwww!” he groans but hugs her anyway with a smile. He knew he’d come home to a warm bowl full of kimchi jjigae tonight.

“Good luck!!” her voice fades off into the distance as Seokjin descends into the dugout where the locker rooms were, ready to give this his best shot.

. . .

The sun trickles through the small windows of the dugout, the grey specks of dust flitting through the air. It’s empty. Seokjin walks through, realizing there’s no one there. Did he come at the wrong time?

Pacing around the room, he looks for something, anything that would indicate the team had been here, a spare bat, or maybe a jersey somewhere. But his heart sinks when he realizes there was nothing. He’d been such a fool.

“Ohhhh Kimmmm,” a voice says from the shadows, and Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Turning around, he sees Jackson’s figure looming at the door, a devious smirk lighting up his face.

“Jackson, what’s going on, where’s everybody—” Seokjin begins, only to be cut off by Jackson howling in laughter.

“Poor guy,” he mutters, stalking towards Seokjin with a menacing gleam in his eyes. “Did you really think those tryouts were real? That we’d let a lame-o like you on the team? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

Seokjin feels like he’s being eaten alive on the inside, shame and humiliation coming over him in waves, his head slumping forward to stare at the ground while Jackson’s words ring loud and clear in the back of his mind.

“I don’t get it, I did the report for you, you said I–, I’d have a chance this year,” he stutters, Jackson backing him up against the lockers.

Jackson picks up a dusty baseball mitt off the ground, shoving it into Seokjin’s hands before pushing him into the locker, the door slamming shut and caging him in darkness.

“You never stood a chance, Kim. You’re just not cool enough.”

. . .

Seokjin doesn’t know how long he bangs against the door of the locker, knuckles raw and bleeding from being cut by the metal. His voice has gone hoarse from screaming for help, knowing that he’s out of luck for a few hours.

He hated everyone - Jackson, the team, all his classmates at school who made him feel like he was worth nothing. He couldn’t wait to grow up, to get out of here, and to finally be somebody he was proud of.

Bile rises up in his throat as he looks at the dilapidated baseball mitt in his hands. He wants to fling it off into oblivion, its presence only reminding him of how silly he’d been to believe that things would be different.

Still, it was all he had, and so he clutched it to his chest, blowing off the dust, rocking back and forth in order to comfort himself as the sun began to set outside.

“I just wanna be thirty,” he whispers into the darkness before his eyes shut and he finally falls asleep.

Seokjin snorts in the middle of his slumber, shifting around to make himself more comfortable, when all of a sudden, he feels himself land on a hard surface with a thud. Cursing, he rubs his shoulder, standing up but tripping on the edge of something soft.

His eyes open sleepily, but it’s still dark. Grumbling, he palms at his face, eventually finding the edge of something covering his eyes. A blindfold? How had that gotten there? Lifting it off, light floods his vision, and his heart stops.

The room around him was very unfamiliar - he catches sight of the rug he’d tripped on moments ago, his eyes traveling up to the sleek bed made out of dark wood with its rumpled sheets. This wasn’t his room. Where were all the baseball posters? And his GameCube in the corner? And his desk with his iMac?

There was only one answer for this - he’d been kidnapped. Panicking, Seokjin fumbles with the doorknob, stumbling into the hallway of the apartment, his eyes widening and heart racing at the even more unfamiliar surroundings.

“Eomma?” he calls out, padding down the hallway and taking in the sparse decorations. “Appa?”

He pauses when he sees a poster on the wall, a scantily clad woman in what can only be described as a provocative pose, and his cheeks flush with heat. He turns his eyes away quickly, feeling like he’s violating someone’s privacy.

The living room is even more strange, full of black furniture and far neater than Seokjin’s room had ever been. His eyes widen at the large flat-screen TV that sits in the corner, and he lets out a soft *wow* at the thought of being able to watch baseball games on there.

He turns to look around more, only to come face-to-face with a mirror. But the person staring back at him isn’t Seokjin. This person was not a thirteen-year-old with acne, a mouth full of braces, and dorky wire-rimmed glasses. He looked like one of those models on magazine covers, with hair pushed back from his face, skin clearer than the water at the beach, and a jawline that could cut glass.

He screams at the unfamiliar face, thinking there’s an intruder in the house with him. He staggers backward, tripping on the raised entrance to the living room, and falling flat on his back. Pain explodes across the back of his head, and he wants to cry.

From elsewhere in the apartment, he hears a door click, and he peers over at the mirror again. He freezes when he realizes there is no other intruder. The figure in the mirror moves the same way he does, copying his exact movement, and Seokjin brings a hand to his face, seeing it rest on the jawline of the attractive reflection.

That was him. He was the man. Was this some kind of dream? Or an alternate reality? He tests the waters, feeling around his face, tugging at the skin to see if it was some sort of costume. His hands fly to his chest, realizing that he’s shirtless, and he’s amazed by the muscles he finds underneath his palms.

“What is happening?” he hyperventilates, shocked at the deep voice that comes out, so unlike his own. “What is going on?”

His anxiety increases as he begins to pace around the apartment, coaxing himself to breathe and relax and take a seat. He’d find a way out of this.

Plopping onto the leather sofa, something on the coffee table catches his eye. It’s a letter, and he pales when he sees the name on the envelope.

It’s his. Kim Seokjin. But that’s not his address. Frantically, he sifts through the mail, growing even paler when he sees all the letters are addressed to him, and that they’re being sent to this same address. He lived here.

The sofa creaks as he rises up abruptly, searching anywhere he can for a phone. Finding it in the corner, he dials his parents’ number, silently praying they hadn’t changed it. His Appa’s voice greets him on the phone, saying that they were currently away in Korea, but they’d be back at the end of this month, and he lets out a heavy sigh. He was alone.

Seokjin thinks this is the weirdest dream he’s ever been in, but he’s interrupted by the sound of the sink turning on in what he can only assume is the bathroom in this place.

“Seokjin, babe?” a female voice calls out from behind the door, and he jumps back, terror seizing him. This must be the strange woman who kidnapped him! She was probably some kind of weirdo, why was she calling him babe?

Seokjin searches for something, anything he can use to protect himself, settling on an umbrella in the corner.

“I-, I know you’re there,” his voice wobbles as he yells out to the woman. “My parents are gonna be home soon!”

The door creaks open and out steps a woman. The first thing Seokjin can think of is legs. So much leg, peeking out at him from underneath a fluffy white towel. And then he screams again. Because she’s naked under there.

“Babe, where’s the conditioner?” she asks him, crossing her arms. Her chest is emphasized by this action, and Seokjin looks up at the ceiling. This was inappropriate. He had to get out of here now!

“Come join me!” her voice fades into the background as he runs, grabbing the first coat and the first pair of shoes he sees in the entryway. The stairs of the unfamiliar building wind around him as he descends, his head spinning, and before he knows it, he’s through a golden set of doors and out onto a busy city street.

A strange buzzing comes from his pocket and Seokjin yelps. Was he being attacked? Had the government bugged him?

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you hear that?” he says frantically, pointing to his pocket. “Do you hear the buzzing?”

The woman passes him by without a second glance.

“Kim!” a voice calls out to him. “Get your ass over here!”

Seokjin turns to the sound of the voice and stops in his tracks when he sees the person calling out to him.

It’s Jackson Wang, all suited up for practice. But he’s not the Jackson Seokjin remembers, his tall looming figure from their middle school only growing more intimidating with the amount of Jackson has built over the years. The man chatters away on the phone angrily, gesturing for Seokjin to get in the car. What kind of world had he found himself in?

“I-, I don’t get in the car with strangers,” Seokjin says confidently, turning away from Jackson’s grabby hands. The man scoffs.

“Can you please just get in bro? We don’t have time for this, we’re gonna be late.”

“BAAABEEE?” Seokjin hears the voice from the apartment again, looking up to see the woman from the apartment calling down to him, now wearing a bra. She blows him kisses and giggles. He definitely did not want to be stuck with her.

His head feels like it’s gonna explode, caught between two horrifying situations. But right now even though it was Jackson, the dude in front of him seemed less weird, and so, he falls over into the seat of the car, the door slamming shut behind him.

During the car ride, Seokjin peers through the windows of the car, taking in the bright lights and busy streets of the city around him. He’s in awe. He never imagined being somewhere like this before.

“Dude, I know I’m your best friend, but you’re acting a little weird, even for me,” Jackson says next to him, and Seokjin straightens up, looking over at him. His best friend? Maybe he had all the answers to what was going on.

“We’re really best friends?” he asks, and the man snickers in response. “Something really weird is happening to me.”

“Oh god,” Jackson groans. “Did you finally get a girl pregnant?”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Pregnant? He hadn’t even kissed a girl yet, how could he get someone pregnant?

“NO!” Seokjin blurts out. “No, no, no, it’s even weirder! I slept in an apartment I’ve never seen before, and there was a naked girl in my bathroom and I almost saw her boobs!”

He finishes with an exhale, but the car comes to a screeching halt at the exact same time, the other man not even saying a word before he gets out.

“W-wait,” Seokjin runs after him. “Please don’t leave me here, just listen to me, I’m thirteen years old–”

“If you’re gonna start lying about your age, Kim, I’d make sure it was something legal at least,” Jackson smirks, walking ahead of him on the street.

“I know it sounds weird, but strange things are happening to me, like, like that!!”

The buzzing in Seokjin’s pocket starts again, and he freaks out, spinning in a circle as he tries to locate the source.

“Would you stop it?” Jackson pulls something out of Seokjin’s pocket. It’s a shiny, flat, metallic object that continues to buzz in his hands. “It’s probably just Coach.”

“C-coach? Who Coach? What Coach?” He feels like his head is about to explode.

The phone is held to Seokjin’s ear.

“HEY BAABEEE!” A voice drawls on the other end, and Seokjin screams, throwing the phone to his companion.

“Get her away from me!” he yelps.

“Okay, listen to me!” Jackson roars, stopping Seokjin in his tracks. “You need to calm down. We have a team meeting in ten minutes. I’m going to tell you what to do, you just need to repeat after me.”

“Ok,” Seokjin says, taking a deep breath.

“I am Kim Seokjin, star batsman for the Eagles. I am a tough bastard, and I’m gonna walk into the stadium and not let anyone know I’m hungover.”

“I’m–” Seokjin prepares to repeat the words, but stops when he hears the rest of them. “I AM?”

But Jackson is already gone, disappearing behind the double doors that lead to a stadium Seokjin never thought he’d find himself going into. The Eagles. His dream team.

Seokjin follows Jackson through the stadium, oohing and ahhing at all the different banners and pieces of sports memorabilia that are on display. This has to be the wildest field trip he’s ever been on.

The man next to him scoffs.

“It’s not like you come here every day,” he chuckles, sarcasm seeping into his voice.

“I DO?” Seokjin can’t believe his ears.

The two of them walk through, scores of people greeting Seokjin and wishing him a good morning. He doesn’t know any of them, their faces all unfamiliar. But they knew him. They knew him and they loved him. He was a star.

“There he is, our star batsman!!” a voice bellows, and Seokjin is attacked by a man throwing him into the biggest bear hug.

“Coach,” Jackson whispers.

“Coach!” Seokjin repeats with a squeak, feeling the wind get knocked out of him. “You’re my coach!”

“That’s right kiddo, who’s your daddy?” the man chortles, and Seokjin responds with eagerness.

“His name is Kim— ow!” He’s cut off by a sharp jab to his chest.

He follows the two men into the dugout, surprised to see a room full of men wearing Eagles jerseys. The team. This was the team. He was on their team!

Seokjin buzzes with excitement, waving hello to all the players with a bounce in his step. They all look at him with concern etched in their features, and the guy he came with urges him to sit down in a cubby. The shiny letters of “4 Kim” greet him, etched on the plaque that adorns the space, and a weird feeling of pride bubbles in his chest. He’d made it.

“Team,” Coach clears his throat, and a hush falls over the room, the commotion dying down. “We need to get it together. The Hawks have consistently outplayed us in every game of the season this year, and they’ve been using our own plays against us. We need to move fast, beat them at their own game, hit them when they least expect it, especially if we have any chance of making it to the playoffs this year! Don’t you agree, Kim?”

It takes a second for Seokjin to realize the man is referring to him, and he sits up straight, anxiety kicking in because he hadn’t prepared a response to his impassioned speech.

He raises his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

The team erupts into laughter, howls echoing off the walls of the dugout, before Coach blows his whistle, silencing them all at once.

“Get out there on the field boys, we don’t have time to mess around,” and Seokjin rises up, ready to throw the ball around for a bit, happy for the familiarity of baseball to make him feel grounded when it seemed like everything about his life was upside down.

“Not you, Kim,” Coach holds out a hand to stop him. “You’re injured, remember? Your physical therapy with the doctor is in five minutes. Don’t be late.” And with a nod, he leaves.

Seokjin was even more confused. Injured? But he didn’t remember getting into an accident of any kind.

He hoped whoever this doctor was, they could help give him some answers.

The clacking of heels signals your arrival moments later, Seokjin lifting his head up to asses the new entry to the dugout. When his eyes fall on you, he sucks in a sharp breath.

Wow. You had to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, pencil skirt hugging your figure perfectly, hips tapering out to an ass that he knew Irene Bae couldn’t have accomplished no matter how much she stuffed her cheerleading uniform with toilet paper. His eyes travel upwards, falling on your chest, and immediately he blushes, reminded of the woman in the apartment this morning. Your boobs are covered by a silky top, the fabric doing nothing to hide their shape, and Seokjin gulps. They look way nicer than hers, anyway. He wants to rest his face on them like a pillow.

Maybe he should ask you out on a date first, though.

“Hi Jin!” your soft voice greets him happily, a dazzling smile taking over your features, and Seokjin feels his heart speed up. He hadn’t felt this dizzy since he saw a poster of Beyonce in a bikini when he was shopping at Target with his mom. “How are you doing today?”

“F-fine,” Seokjin stammers, unable to look you in the eyes when you take a seat next to him. He tries to find interest in the specks that line the floor, but your smell overwhelms him, the sweet floral scent attacking his nose. You looked nice, sounded nice, and you even smelled nice. Not to mention you were actually nice.

And he was supposed to be alone with you? For longer than five minutes? Seokjin thinks he’ll pass out if you get any closer to him.

“How’s the leg?” you ask him, leaning over until your face is right next to his. Seokjin forces himself to look away with a blush, grumbling about how it’s okay. He wasn’t sure whether his leg or his chest ached more right now with the way you were staring at him.

“Let me take a look!” you say cheerfully, dropping to your knees, and reaching out to grab his calf, and Seokjin thinks he might throw up with the way he can see down your shirt, the soft white lace of your bra doing things to his head. He’d never seen someone more beautiful in his life. And you were taking care of him.

The next twenty minutes are pure torture, Seokjin holding his breath as you poke and prod all over his leg, stretching it in and out with curious eyes. At some point, he feels his pants start to become tight and freaks when he looks down and sees the beginning of a boner in his sweats.

He coughs loudly, causing you to jump in surprise dropping his leg, and he immediately finds the nearest mitt and puts it on his lap to hide his unfortunate surprise guest. You smile up at him, rising to your feet.

“Your leg is doing great,” you tell him. “It should be all healed up soon, just in time for the playoffs. And then you won’t need to see me anymore.”

“Wait,” Seokjin chokes. He just met you! He needed you to stick around. Maybe you knew something about him, about what was going on. “What do you mean, ar-are you gonna leave?”

You cock your head curiously at him, and Seokjin shrinks into his seat at your intense gaze. Was he being weird around you?

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly. “I’ll always be here when you need me, Jin.”

Seokjin’s heart pounds at your words, and he shyly rubs at the back of his neck.

“Thanks! See you again—” he blanks when he realizes he doesn’t know who you are.

“___,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows up at him, turning to leave. “Seokjin? Next time you come to physical therapy, try not to be hungover, okay?”

He watches you leave with a dazed smile on his face. ___. Meeting you had been the highlight of his day so far. Despite how strange everything had been, he knew he couldn’t wait to see you again.

Seokjin catches the ball with an oomph!, shocked at how fast these players could throw. It’d only been a day since he found himself in this new body, and he’d stumbled home confused after his session with you yesterday, eventually caving and trying desperately to hail a taxi to take him back to the apartment. He sobbed in relief when he saw the strange woman was nowhere to be found, slumping against the door and finally allowing himself to breathe for the first time all day. Tears tracked down his face as he thought of how often he’d wished for this, the life he’d wanted so desperately finally finding him in the end.

Even now, as he tosses the ball back and forth, he’s unable to believe it. Him, the star batsman for the team he’d idolized growing up? He wanted to call his Eomma and tell her, but paused when he realized she probably already knew.

“Something on your mind?” Jackson says to him with a laugh, throwing a curveball, and Seokjin feels his palm burn from the force of catching it.

Seokjin surveys the man who was the last person he remembered before everything changed, and wonders how they ever became friends. He wants to ask, but something feels uneasy about it – like Jackson would judge him for it. He would probably think Seokjin was clinically insane if he even tried to bring up how he fell asleep thirteen and woke up thirty one day.

He wishes there was someone he could talk to, someone who got it, and that’s when he sees you waving from across the field. You’re dressed more casually today, in slacks and a soft-looking sweater, and yet you still manage to be absolutely stunning.

Seokjin feels guilty for staring at you so much like he’s a stupid thirteen-year-old with a crush on his teacher, but he also genuinely enjoyed spending time with you yesterday. Despite your annoyance at his “hangover”, you hadn’t taken it out on him with words as the others had; you went about the session as normal and treated him with kindness the entire time through.

Seokjin waves goodbye to Jackson, sprinting in your direction. He misses the way Jackson’s eyes follow his back, trained on the way you greet him with a smile, the two of you heading back into the dugout.

“Soooo, you’re a doctor?” Seokjin can’t help himself from asking, immediately feeling stupid when he realizes that he’s meant to have known you for a while. He couldn’t help it - you felt like the only real thing he could latch onto in this world, his mind running a thousand miles a minute as he processed all the new changes that had occurred.

“Yup! I studied sports medicine in college, then went to med school,” you answer politely, your tone giving no indication that you found him weird at all.

“That’s cool, you must be super smart, 7th grade bio is hard enough for me,” Jin laments, immediately realizing his mistake with a soft gasp. “Was. It was hard for me, you know, back in seventh grade.”

“Are you sure you’re okay Seokjin?” you look up at him, eyes filled with concern.

Tears prick at Seokjin’s eyes, the earnest tone of your voice giving him the push he needed to be honest. No, he was not okay. He wasn’t okay, and he needed someone to talk to, and he thinks that you, of all people, might be able to understand. After all, your entire job involved empathy.

“Something really weird is happening,” he confesses, watching you listen carefully to his words. “I don’t know what’s been going on, but the last thing I remember, I was sitting in my closet, and it’s like I’m in a weird dream. I feel like I skipped half my life – I can’t remember the person I used to be, or what my life was like at all. It’s like I don’t even recognize myself.”

“I think I need help,” he continues. “I need help remembering who I was before. You’ve known me for a little bit, right ___? Do you think you could help?”

Seokjin thought he was onto something, but his heart drops to his stomach when he looks up and he sees you, face pale and lip trembling like you’re about to cry.

“I–, I don’t know if I’m the best person to help you with that Seokjin, maybe you should ask Jackson,” you respond, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why?” he leans over to look into your eyes, shocked when they’re as misty as his own. “What happened, ___?”

Before he knows it, the vulnerable look in your eyes is gone, and you’re back to your normal, cheerful self.

“Hey,” you tell him. “Why don’t we pack it up for today? I’ll walk you back home to your apartment.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says, stomach still churning at the pained look you’d had moments before. “But can we get milkshakes?”

You smile at him, a look of fondness coming over you. You rise, beckoning him to follow you outside.

“I think we can manage that.”

The slurp of a straw interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see Seokjin, eyes wide with delight as he drinks up the last of his milkshake, the whipped cream forming a mustache on his top lip.

You’re puzzled. The Seokjin you’d known before would have never agreed to hang out with you, let alone talk to you for an extended period of time. For as long as you’d known him, even in college, he’d been too arrogant for his own good, obsessed with letting everyone know the world revolved around him and him only. The man sitting in front of you is completely different, transformed in a way that didn’t even seem real.

The Seokjin that sat with you now seemed infinitely more unsure of himself, shy and hesitant in the way that only a child would be. You wonder what could have changed so suddenly. Coach hadn’t given you any reports about him undergoing head trauma in addition to his leg injury.

“Thank you for the milkshake,’’ Seokjin grins, wiping the cream off his lips, and you hate the way your heart skips a beat at that. You curse yourself for the moment of weakness, even after all this time.

“We went to college together,” you blurt out, not knowing why you chose to reveal this piece of information, given that he likely already knew it. “Me, you, and Jackson.”

Seokjin’s mouth gapes open, a shocked gasp escaping his open mouth.

“Really?” he says leaning in closer to you. “Were we friends?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Had he really forgotten college? I mean it had been nearly a decade ago, and it wasn’t like life had drawn you back together until recently.

“Not really, you moved in a different crowd,” you chuckle. “Like not the nerdy, study in the library kind. More like the frat rager kind.”

“WHOAAAA,” Seokjin marvels in wonder, his voice filled with childlike glee. “That sounds awesome.”

“What if this isn’t just a dream? What if what I wished for actually happened?” he continues, softer this time, but you still pick up on it.

Reaching a hand towards him, you pull away at the last moment, unsure why you were acting so wildly out of character with him. It was like the energy between you two had completely changed.

“Well, you got everything you ever wanted, then, might as well enjoy it,” you smile at him, heart fluttering when he gives you a sincere smile back, his cheeks puffing out with happiness.

“I have to run,” you get up abruptly, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “But I’ll see you at the gala tonight?”

“What gala?” he asks, eyes looking up at your curiously. Your stomach turns in disbelief. Did he actually not remember? Maybe his schedule was so busy he’d forgotten.

“The charity gala that I organized for the team tonight,” you tell him. “The one to raise money for medical care for athletes who’ve suffered a career-ending injury?”

“Oh! I’ll be there,” Seokjin says confidently, beaming at you. You give him a weak smile back, knowing you have to leave before you did something stupid and made the same mistake twice.

“Arrivederci, ___!” he waves, turning to walk in the other direction before he disappears around the corner.

“Au revoir,” you whisper back softly.

Your life was completely different now, and there was no place for him in it.

Seokjin straightens his tie before stepping into his closet, perusing the many suit options he had. He wanted to pick his best outfit to impress you with tonight, but he was feeling overwhelmed with the size of the space, missing the days when his Eomma would drag him to Goodwill and they’d find the cheapest one that fit.

He settles on a navy blue one, throwing the jacket over his shoulders, and pushing his hair up off his face, before taking a step back to look at himself in the mirror.

Whoa. Seokjin still couldn’t get used to the way his body had changed, remembering the ugly duckling phase he’d been in the middle of before being transported here. He wonders if he was able to talk to a lot of girls now that he was more confident. Maybe he’d even had a past girlfriend that he didn’t know about. Maybe they’d even had sex.

Seokjin’s cheeks burn when he thinks about it, your face in the back of his mind. He imagines what it’d be like to kiss you, thinking about how soft your lips would feel. Why had the two of you never dated? Maybe because you worked together? Whatever it was, he hoped he could change your mind about it.

Stepping out of his apartment, he skips down the hallway to the elevator, giddy to be going to his first grown-up party. Well, not technically his first, but more like the first, he could remember. The elevator dings and Seokjin makes his way inside, a little boy his only other companion.

“Hi,” Seokjin says, but the boy just ignores him, looking at his phone.

“I’m Seokjin,” he says, extending a hand that catches the boy’s attention.

“Jungwoo,” the boy says, looking hesitant as he accepts the handshake. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Seokjin says, feeling confused. “We’re neighbours, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo responds despondently. “But you usually ignore me most of the time.”

The way he says it makes Seokjin feel horrible inside. He would never purposefully ignore someone like that, not after knowing what it felt like as a kid. He wonders what the 30-year-old version of him had been like to warrant such a reaction.

“How old are you, Jungwoo?”

“I’m thirteen,” Jungwoo responds, and all of a sudden, the elevator comes to a stop, signaling their arrival at the ground floor. Jungwoo walks out without another word, Seokjin running after him.

“Wait!” he says sharply, watching Jungwoo turn to look at him in shock. “You should come over and hang out sometime, we can watch some baseball together.”

“Really?” Jungwoo says hopefully.

“Yeah,” Seokjin smiles, patting him on the back. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later!”

And Seokjin runs out the door, excited not only to have made a new friend but at the fact that it felt like this strange life of his was finally clicking into place.

The room spins around you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because the arm around you feels too tight tonight or because the music is boring as heck. You want nothing more than to sit down, knowing all the attention would be on you in a matter of moments, and the thought made you sick.

What made you even more nauseous was your partner’s maroon tux. Maroon. To match your navy blue. When you’d asked why he hadn’t worn the same color, his only response was:

“Babe, this little thing isn’t that serious, right? It’s about the money.”

You excuse yourself, wanting to find some investors to talk to about how to contribute their generous wealth towards your aspiring fund, only to catch sight of Kim Seokjin in a corner, knocking back drinks with a giddy smile.

“____!” he waves you over happily when he sees you, taking your hand to pull you in close to him. “I can’t believe it’s 10:00 pm on a school night and I’m at a party, drinking pina coladas that aren’t virgin!”

Your jaw drops open when you see what he’s wearing. Navy blue - a smart-looking suit to match your gown perfectly, and you feel the back of your neck grow hot with thoughts you shouldn’t be having.

“Glad to see you’re doing better now,” you giggle, and his smirk turns lopsided with glee at your kind words, its unintended effect being to cause butterflies to bubble in your chest.

“I’d be even better if they turned off this boring music,” he slurs contentedly, taking another drink from the server. “Why don’t they play some throwback tunes in here?”

“I’m not sure that fits with the sophisticated vibes needed to gain a corporate sponsorship for my cause, I’m afraid.”

“I’d donate money to you,” he says softly, his warm eyes twinkling from the numerous fairy lights as they meet yours. “Heck, I’d give you my entire paycheck.”

Setting the glass down, all signs of his previous tipsiness disappear as he regards you with a serious stare. You watch his cheeks flush, his gaze dropping to the low neckline as he sharply inhales, bringing his eyes back up to your face.

“Wanna go for a spin?”

You’re mesmerized by him, transfixed as you take his hand, the two of you retreating into a private corner of the ballroom, right by the open-air balcony. The cool breeze creates shivers down your spine as Seokjin pulls you close, his warm breath fanning against your face, and despite your best efforts to look past him and out onto the city lights, you find you can’t take your eyes off him.

It all feels too short, barely a minute of you swaying in Seokjin’s arms before the beat changes abruptly, Usher blasting through the speakers. You feel achingly empty when Seokjin’s hand leaves yours, but the smile returns to your face when a moment later, he begins head-banging and gyrating goofily to the new song.

“Now this is more like it,” he hollers, and you can’t help but join him the two of you twisting and turning until you’re laughing, out of breath and delirious with joy.

The joy is cut short when another shadow looms over your meeting, pulling you into his arms.

“___, babe there you are! What are you and Kim doing hiding away in this corner?” Jackson pulls you into his side, and your stomach drops when you watch Seokjin’s eyes go wide with a mix of shock, and what you can only assume is pain.

“Sorry Kim, I know you get her for the PT during practice, but she’s mine for the PT after hours if you know what I mean,” Jackson grins, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Seokjin’s mouth remains agape, and you watch his eyes glimmer with realization as he pans to the thin band that adorns your left ring finger, finally noticing its presence for the first time.

A sharp squeal interrupts the tense moment between you, and you notice a woman in the tightest dress you’ve ever seen run over to Seokjin, nearly knocking him over as she wraps her arms around him. His entire body tenses up, and you want nothing more than to smooth over the hair that has fallen into his face.

“Baaabe, you’ve been ignoring me,” the woman whines, her nasal voice grating your ears. Of course. It’s Jennie Kim, model extraordinaire. Of course, she would be Seokjin’s date now – a match worthy of his striking looks and personality.

“Who are they?” she says vapidly, taking in you and Jackson’s entwined figures.

“I, uh, these are, this is ___, and Jackson, coworkers, and friends from college,” he stutters, trying to unravel himself from her death grip. “And this is, uh, uhm…’

“Jennie Kim!” Jackson immediately lets you go to take her hand, shaking it furiously. “So nice to meet you!”

“Babe, we should get going,” Jennie tugs on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Don’t you remember we kind of had other plans for the night?”

“W-we did?” Seokjin stammers, and you decide you need to walk away, lightly tugging Jackson’s arm to follow you across the ballroom. Of course, he’d go home with her - she was beautiful, successful, and perfect. And you were just you.

“___,” you hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, yet you don’t want to hear anything he has to say. Jackson has left your side once again, going back to talk animatedly to Jennie, and you’re alone together once again.

“Should I go home with her? Jennie? Is it a good idea?” he asks, and you turn, meeting his gaze, which seems so earnest, so genuinely filled with concern for what you thought. Or at least that’s what your overthinking mind told you, kicking back into gear after eight years of wiping all thoughts of Seokjin from your memory.

“Yeah, you should,” you tell him honestly, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “She’s your girlfriend, after all.”

Seokjin yawns, Jungwoo’s animated voice yapping away in his ear as the two of them walk down to the lobby together. His night had gone later than he expected - too much of it spent lost in the city streets as he’d run out of Jennie’s apartment, not expecting her naked boobs to be in his face the moment they’d come in. Her hands had been all over him, ignoring his suggestions of quitting to watch a movie or maybe even play a game of Monopoly.

“Girls are sooo stupid,” Jungwoo sighs. “Why don’t the ones you like ever like you? Why do they give all these weird signals?”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin sighs, your face immediately coming to his mind, thinking about how you’d felt in his arms at the gala. Obviously, you’d looked beautiful, but underneath the dim lights, you shone in a way that he didn’t think was possible, one that made him feel very strange on the inside.

“Love is a battlefield, my friend,” Seokjin ruffles the kid’s hair before getting into his waiting taxi and waving goodbye. “Have fun with fractions! Remember, always divide by the number on the bottom!”

. . .

Coach was furious. The team was failing, their chances of making the playoffs dismal, and he made that clear with how he ripped into them with the speech.

“You better shape up now, or this franchise as we know it will be over!”

“Maybe that’s what we need,” Seokjin blurts out, watching the entire team turn to him. “Maybe we need to get our asses handed to us. Maybe we need to actually experience loss to realize how much is at stake. Because winning is great and all, but don’t we learn more from our failures?”

The locker room is abuzz with chatter, Coach clapping Seokjin on the back.

“I knew you wouldn’t let the hate get to you, kid,” he says, and Seokjin looks at him blankly, wondering what he could be referring to.

“ESPN?” Coach says. “That article they ran a few months ago about you being a slimy, unprofessional cheat just because you “injured” that player for the Cardinals? I knew it was all BS. I mean look at you, how could you hurt somebody when you’re injured yourself?”

Seokjin’s stomach sinks. He’d hurt another player? That was something he’d never dreamed of doing. He loved baseball, and everyone deserved to experience the joy of the sport, whether it was through winning or losing. That was what made a good player, not sabotaging others.

One by one, the players get ready for practice, Seokjin finally suiting up to go bat for the first time in a while. His sessions with you had tapered down as he recovered, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. The more and more he thought about the life he’d always wanted, one as a star baseball player, the more awful it seemed. Being a grown-up wasn’t as fun as he thought - people were liars, cheaters, and just plain old mean. But you weren’t like that.

The bat slams against the ball with a satisfying crack, soaring out towards the far end of the field, and Seokjin prepares to run. But two voices behind him make him stop in his tracks.

“Can’t believe Coach is trusting Kim and his new weird-ass stunt,” Jackson seethes. “Like he’s really gonna help rebrand the team? All he cares about is himself.”

“Yup, the prick was the entire reason our last shortstop got traded,” Jaehyun, one of the left fielders, hisses. “Can’t believe Kim had an affair with the guy’s wife.”

Seokjin drops the bat with a clank, the entire team turning to look at him. But he doesn’t care, storming off into the dugout. Was this really who he was? A bully and a cheater? Being thirty no longer seemed like a dream, it was steadily turning into a nightmare.

Storming through the dugout, he finally finds the door to your office, sighing heavily as he raps against it.

You open it within seconds, shocked to see his dejected figure standing in front of you.

“Wanna go for a walk, ___?”

“I can’t believe you and Jackson are getting married,” Seokjin remarks as the two of you walk, bringing up the proverbial elephant he’d wanted to ask you about ever since the night of the gala.

“Only a couple of weeks now,” you respond, wrapping your arms around you to fight off the chill, and Seokjin wishes he’d brought a jacket to keep you warm.

“Are you guys soulmates?” he asks, genuinely curious to know the answer. ‘Do you get butterflies when you’re around him?”

He knows that his question is loaded, that underneath it hides the depth of the feelings he’s managed to keep concealed for all this time, but he asks anyway, knowing the answer may hurt him.

“Nahh, I don’t really believe in that anymore. The last time I was crazy like that for a guy was in college,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why weren’t we ever friends back then?” he asks you again, feeling you come to a stop next to him, your heavy sigh permeating the tense air between you.

“Listen,” you tell him, and your voice sounds thick with what he thinks are tears, “Can we just please forget about it? It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Seokjin knows he may not have any reason to apologize but he still wants to anyway. It seemed like he’d left a trail of destruction behind him wherever you went.

“Seokjin, no, please, you don’t have to apologize,” you grab his hand and give him a weak smile, trying vainly to reassure him, but his rapidly racing thoughts get in the way.

“I want to though,” he says back, his own voice cracking. “I mean, do you even know the kind of person I am, ___? I don’t have friends, I just use people, I slept with a teammate's wife, and I never talk to my parents. I’m not a nice person. And the thing is, I’m not thirteen anymore. I need to stop living in the past.”

And with that, he lets you go, ignoring your cries of protest as he runs away, his mistakes following him until he gets home. Closing the door behind him, he slumps to the floor, sobbing while he dials his parents' number.

It was time for him to make things right.

Seokjin stares down at the facade of the house he’d grown up with, the chipped paint and wide windows instantly soothing his heart. The train ride over had been brutal, his empty eyes watching the scenery drift by aimlessly, ignoring the giggles of the group of teenagers that sat next to him.

He wished he could tell them to stay happy and young forever, to continue living without a care in the world. Being a grown-up wasn’t worth it. Instead of bringing him the happiness and the belonging he’d craved, it only made him feel more alone, more empty inside than he’d ever felt as an awkward teen.

Stepping onto the porch, he reaches under the doormat, relieved to see his parents left a spare key there. It was like they’d been waiting for him to come home this entire time.

As he walks through the door, a chilling realization sets in. The house was empty. His parents weren’t here, they were probably in Korea. And all at once, Seokjin’s hope for coming back came crashing down.

Stepping out of his shoes, he leaves them at the door, sprinting up the stairs to his room. The door creaks open, and Seokjin lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

The bed is gone, replaced with a treadmill. The walls had been repainted, the floors redone. The lone thing that remained of his was the desk in the corner, all his belongings still on it. It serves only to remind him that his parents had always waited for him to come home, but eventually, they too must have grown tired of him.

A sob escapes him, and he realized he’d disappeared completely from their lives, not even bothering to keep up with the only people who’d loved him unconditionally his entire life. All of a sudden he feels nauseous, his stomach turning as he realized the fate the threads of time had woven him - a life of loneliness. One where he spent so much time garnering attention, only to be a forgotten soul anyway.

He rushes into the basement, the garish yellow walls exactly as they’d been seventeen years ago, and locks himself in the utility closet. Tears stain his face as he hiccups, slamming his head back against the wall.

“I wish I was thirteen again, I wish I was thirteen again.” But his pleading words fail to work this time around.

He doesn’t know how long he remains crumpled up in the closet, but he doesn’t hear the front door open. He doesn’t hear his parents pad down the basement stairs, umbrellas in hand until the closet door opens, light seeps in, and he’s met with their concerned faces.

Seokjin leaps to his feet, throwing his arms around them.

“Eomma, Appa, I missed you. I missed you both so much.”

. . .

The rain patters against the window, and Seokjin turns over on the couch, watching it gently fall. After a bowl of his Eomma’s kimchi jjigae, he’d felt the most like himself he had in a long time, the two of them fretting over how thin he’d gotten.

But now, alone in the living room, Seokjin felt like an intruder again. His parents were more used to living without him than with him.

Suddenly, his throat feels dry, the number of tears he’d shed today leaving him parched. He gets up, padding over to the kitchen, keeping his footsteps soft so he doesn’t disturb his parents. Flicking the light on, he walks over to the fridge, opening it to get the water jug out.

“Seokjinnie?” his Eomma’s soft voice comes from behind him. “What are you doing awake at this time?”

Seokjin should have known better than to get up in the middle of the night. His Eomma’s sixth sense had always been knowing when her child needed something. Within five minutes, she’s boiling some frozen dumplings and chopping up vegetables to make him food.

He’s grateful for her attention, but his stomach churns with nausea. She may be the only other person he can talk to about this. Other than you.

“Eomma,” he interrupts her quiet concentration, and she looks over at him from the stove, her eyebrows etched with concern. “If you were given a chance, do you ever wish you could go back? Like to a different time?”

“I’d love to go back and take care of some of these wrinkles,” she chuckles, and Seokjin smiles along with her. Her face hasn’t changed at all since he was thirteen, still as youthful as ever.

“Yeah, but if you were given a do-over, let’s say, what would you change? Like if you made a big mistake,” Seokjin asks, wondering if having regrets was just part of growing older and whether there was still hope.

“Well, I don’t regret making any mistakes in my life, because if I hadn’t made them, I wouldn’t have known how to make them right,” she responds, a knowing twinkle in her eye when she sees Seokjin staring down at the food, failing to meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come home in a while,” he says, his voice heavy with regret. His Eomma reaches across the table, taking his hand in her smaller one, and squeezing it gently.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“This doesn’t make sense, I’m not even good at baseball,” you tell Seokjin. “Why do you want to practice with me?”

Seokjin looks at you, strolling through the park with him in a cosy-looking hoodie and jeans. While your outfit may not have been ideal for baseball practice, the way he looked at you still sent your heart aflutter, and you wondered what it’d be like to wear one of his oversized sweatshirts.

“That’s exactly the point, ____, I’ve gotten too comfortable practicing with the team. I know their every move, but we need to step it up for the playoffs. That’s why I need someone different. Someone who can keep me on my toes. Someone like you.”

You cover your face with your hands shyly, palms out towards him, and that’s when he decides to launch a curveball.

“OW!” you yelp. “Hey, I wasn’t ready for that!”

“Like I said,” Seokjin smirks. “I need you to keep me on my toes. Looks like you need me to do the same.”

The two of you toss around the ball for a while, your throws being much more unpredictable and much less powerful than Seokjin’s. Your ego inflated exponentially when you saw him miss a few, a smug expression on your face. When you look up at the sky, you realize it’s gotten dark, the sun beginning to set behind the trees.

“Hahaha, looks like the team might need a replacement pitcher soon,” you taunt him.

“In your dreams, ___, stick to helping people instead,” he laughs, immediately running towards you with a devious grin.

You squeal, running away from him, the two of you chasing each other through the park, your laughter echoing through the trees the entire way.

Eventually, your legs tire, and you slow down, hiding behind a tree out of his sight. It’s all for nothing when you hear his footsteps thud on the running path behind you, his arms coming to wrap around you, sending the two of you toppling into the grass.

“Ahhh, shit, that hurt more than it should have,” you groan, shifting onto your back. “We’re getting old.”

When you look up at him, your heart stops. Your heavy breathing slows as you look up at him, the stars from the night sky reflected in his eyes when he stares down at you, something hidden in their depths that makes your chest come alive with excitement.

“Wanna know a secret, ____?” he laughs, stroking your wrist gently with his thumb, and you look over to see your hands intertwined. You hadn’t even noticed you were holding his.

“You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”

Seokjin’s plush lips descend towards yours, your breaths mingling for a brief moment before panic sets in, and you turn the other way, his kiss ending up on your cheek instead. You feel dizzy with emotion, immediately regretting the decision, knowing all you wanted to know was if his lips felt as soft as they looked. You’d been fooling yourself for so long, thinking your feelings for him had gone away.

You sit up, silence heavy in between you both, but you don’t leave, instead wrapping your arms around him and leaning onto his shoulder. He sighs contentedly, nuzzling against you, and the two of you remain there, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance.

“Ew, what do you mean you guys didn’t kiss properly,” Jungwoo looks at Seokjin from across his bed, five other pairs of young, curious eyes looking over at him. “Did she have cooties or something?”

“Stop it!” Soobin punches Jungwoo in the shoulder, earning a glare from the other boy. “You’re ruining the romance. Are you gonna ask her out, Jin?”

The baseball game in the background remains forgotten as the boys erupt with chatter, arguing amongst themselves about how to ask out a girl.

“I don’t know, guys,” Seokjin says dejectedly, wondering if the reason you’d only let him kiss you on the cheek was because you were engaged to Jackson. “It’s complicated with like, grownup stuff.”

“At least you have someone who likes you,” Felix groans. “Girls don’t exactly want to jump your bones when you’re a metal mouth.”

Seokjin jumps up at that, shushing Felix for even saying such a ludicrous thing.

“None of that, okay! We are young, and we are thriving. Love may be a battlefield, but we’re the Earth’s finest soldiers. So let’s get out there, yeah?”

. . .

It’s finally here. The game that will make or break the Eagles’ season. And it’s also Seokjin’s first game back. The locker room is abuzz with tension and anxiousness, the players tripping around each other as they get ready.

In his cubby, Seokjin sits, and thinks. This was the moment he’d waited his entire life for. To be a star player, and to win a championship. Yet, in the grand scheme of things that had occurred, it was just another thing he had to do. He no longer faced the same anxiety he had during the day of the tryouts, wondering if he was good enough. He knew now that he was. That all of them were.

“Kim!” Coach slaps him across the back. “Speech please!”

Seokjin rises up and looks at his fellow men and teammates. He feels silly, giving a speech to them when he’s probably the lamest out of all of them, with thirteen-year-olds for friends and a hopeless crush on a girl. But then he remembers the words of that kid in the bathroom right before everything had changed. Hobi.

And he’d rather be original than cool anyway.

“I think,” he begins. “Over the course of the season, we’ve all forgotten that we have a reason for this. Baseball is our sport, and it’s our career, yeah, but there’s more to us than that. We have families, friends, and people we love and care about. We’re doing this for them just as much as we’re doing it for us. Because when we go out there on that field, and we put the love we feel for ourselves, and for everyone around us, into the sport that we play, we’ll be at our best. We need to remember what used to be good, and harness that.”

The whole dugout is silent for a few terrifying moments before there’s a clap from the back of the room. It’s joined by another one until the whole room is thundering in applause, and Coach is hugging Seokjin with tears in his eyes.

“Looks like that time off did you real good, kid.”

. . .

Seokjin is the last one to leave after the victory, of course. He strips off his shirt, hitting the showers until all the sweat has dripped off his body, and now he pulls his workout gear over his head. The sound of a voice clearing behind him interrupts him, and he turns in surprise, seeing Jackson in the middle of the dugout.

“Hey,” Seokjin says. “Aren’t you supposed to go home? Isn’t ___ waiting for you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kim,” Jackson replies, ice in his tone. “I know your entire little stunt, and I’m here to tell you it’s not gonna work this time.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin feels his heart race at Jackson’s seething accusation.

“The moment this week ends, I’ll be married to ___, and I’m gonna ask Coach to trade me. You can’t have her this time, Kim. Do you think you can just bat your eyelashes and giggle and you’ll win the team over and get the girl? Nuh-uh. You’re still just a lame excuse of a person.”

Seokjin wants to protest, but he remains frozen, Jackson’s words causing his entire world to come crashing down around him. His lip begins to tremble, and when the first tear falls, he hears Jackson scoff, turning on his heels to leave.

“You never stood a chance, Kim. Deep down, you’re still just that scared, uncool thirteen-year-old. Nothing’s changed, and nothing ever will.”

The week before the playoffs passes in agony, Seokjin knowing that Jackson knew about his feelings for you, and the fact that he’d be traded, and you’d go with him. He spends all his time in his apartment, talking with Jungwoo about what to do, he and the younger boy go through many pints of ice cream.

In the end, he calls the one he knows he needs to hear from the most.

“Eomma?” he asks over the phone. It feels good to tell her everything finally. She’d squealed in delight when he told her about you, telling him that Jackson was just being a quote, “butthurt dipshit.” “What should I do?”

“Oh Seokjinnie, only you know that. Just stay true to yourself, and all the answers will come your way, my boy.”

When he hangs up the phone, a notification pings on it, and he gasps at the headline.

“Jackson Wang traded from Eagles.”

In all his misery, he’d forgotten what day it was. He was almost out of time.

. . .

The Internet was truly capable of modern miracles in this day and age, Jungwoo working his magic to help Seokjin find out the location of your wedding venue. Seokjin doesn’t even change out of his ratty sweats, throwing on his coat and running as fast as he can down the city streets, his phone overheating at how many times he ignored the maps function and changed direction.

Eventually, he comes to a stop outside the swanky hotel, strolling through the revolving doors and stumbling into the lobby. The finely dressed guests pay him no notice, and he manages to steal a bouquet of flowers, covering his face as he runs up the stairs two at a time, until he eventually finds your room number.

He knocks on the door, relieved to find it’s open, and that you’re alone. It must almost be time. You don’t notice him come in, too busy fixing your veil. A soft gasp escapes when you see him behind you in the mirror, disheveled and dripping with sweat, and you turn.

Seokjin thinks his heart might explode at how beautiful you look, your dress hugging every part of your body perfectly. But it’s more than that. Everything about you is radiant, glowing from the inside out. It’s like you’re the sun, and he’s the moon, your bright light complimenting his dim glow perfectly.

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice heavy with disbelief that he’s actually here.

“____, I know I’m not the greatest person, but I’m trying to be better,” he reaches for you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and your hand comes up to join his, eyes glimmering with tears. “And I’d like to think if you also believed that about me, maybe you wouldn’t be marrying Jackson right now. That maybe things could be different.”

You whimper, trying hard to hold back the tears, and Seokjin doesn’t want you to ruin your makeup, so he wipes them for you.

“I can’t lie to myself anymore,” you tell him. “I felt things for you over these past few weeks that I haven’t felt for eight years. But I’ve also realized over the past few days that you can’t just turn back time.”

“Why not?” Seokjin asks earnestly. He wants to believe, has to believe that there might be a way for it to work.

“Because you made your choice, eight years ago in college, when I told you I liked you,” you respond, barely a whisper. “And you rejected me. I moved on and so did you. We’ve been going down different paths for so long, making different choices. And I chose Jackson.”

Seokjin feels dizzy, like the floor is about to collapse from underneath him. You’d liked him back then. And he’d been too caught up in his delusions to be honest with himself, to give you the chance that you deserved. And now it was too late. He knew growing up was about making mistakes, and learning how to deal with them, but somehow this mistake hurt more than anything he could have imagined.

“Don’t cry,” you say sadly, seeing his eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own.

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a weak smile, backing away. “I promise. I’m crying because I’m happy. I want you to be so, so happy.”

You reach around your neck, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace until it finally comes undone, putting it in his palm gently.

He looks down and chokes on a sob. It’s a tiny gold baseball glove. He’d never noticed it before. You close his palm around it, and he takes a step back, finding himself underneath the door.

“I love you, ___.”

He has to say it before he goes, he has to let you know how he feels.

“I love you too, Seokjin. I always have.”

And with that, he leaves.

. . . .

Seokjin stumbles down the steps of the hotel, hyperventilating as he finds himself back on the street, the tiny gold necklace still clutched in the palm of his hand.

He stumbles down the busy road, bumping into strangers, but not caring. All he could think about was the fact that you loved him back, and yet life was still so unfair. Seokjin felt stupid for even dreaming of this in the first place, realizing that dreams were nothing but a delusion. Things never turned out the way you wanted them to, the black and white of them always complicated by different shades of grey.

He finds an empty bench and sits down, clutching his knees to his chest like a child. Running his thumb over the delicate gold charm, he closes his eyes, wishing that none of this had ever happened to him, that he had just stayed thirteen this entire time.

He knew it was all for nothing, but that didn’t stop him from hoping one last time.

Seokjin jolts awake with a gasp, air burning his lungs and light hurting his eyes as the door to the locker is thrown open. His vision is blurry for a few seconds before it adjusts, and he looks up at his rescuer.

It’s a young girl, with a concerned look on her face.

“I heard you screaming, I live right next to the field. Are you okay?” she asks, and something about her seems familiar, but Seokjin can’t quite put his nose on it.

Looking down, he sees the dusty baseball mitt crushed in the palm of his hand, and running his tongue across his teeth, feels the metal of his braces, and his heart swells with joy. It worked! He was thirteen again. And now, he could finally start over.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles at her, putting his glasses on. They rest crooked on the tip of his nose, but he doesn’t care. “Thanks for saving me.”

“No problem!” the girl reaches her hand out for him to shake. “I’m ___, by the way. I just moved here.”

Seokjin feels his heart stop, looking into your eyes, finding them to be the same ones he’d said goodbye to moments ago. Was this really true? Was the universe giving him another chance?

Taking his hand in hers, he shakes it, beaming down at her. “Nice to meet you, ___, I’m Jin. D-do, do you maybe want to go grab a milkshake and hang out?”

Your dazzling smile hasn’t changed at all, as you nod your head and laugh, the two of you walking out of the dugout and into the warm afternoon sun.

“I think we’re gonna be best friends, Jin.”

Epilogue

Seokjin pants, breath coming out in gasps as he carries the heavy box up the porch steps. He slams it onto the ground with a thud, putting his hands on his knees and letting out a loud groan, the muscles of his back aching. When he looks down, his mouth parts in surprise, the box’s tape having split open, revealing the myriad of photo frames that would soon decorate your new home.

From just a brief glance, Seokjin can already see a few pictures that make his heart swell, a dazed smile on his face. There was the one of you two at prom, when he’d almost confessed after seeing how stunning you looked in your dress but chickened out at the last minute. There was another from your college graduation, the two of you with bright eyes and wide smiles, ready to take on the future together. Another one from a date night at a game where he remembers the two of you getting caught on the jumbotron and making out in front of the crowd. His halmeoni blushed when she saw the video on tv the next day. On top of them all, though, sits Seokjin’s most prized possession: the framed photo of your wedding, Seokjin in a navy blue suit, and you in your dress, surrounded by your friends and family.

Growing up, Seokjin had a lot of dreams. A lot of them revolved around being cool, becoming someone worthy of your love. It was strange, but he’d fallen for you instantly the moment you’d rescued him from the locker, but it had taken years of your friendship for him to make a move. He’d always been so scared that his nerdy thirteen year old self would follow him through the years, and that he’d remain someone you never saw as a life partner. But he was wrong. Because you’d fallen for him too, spending years hiding your feelings in the same silly way. The day he married you was the day he’d realized all his dreams had finally come true.

Your soft footsteps come up behind him on the porch, and he turns to see you looking at him with a curious smile on your face. The sun shines behind you, bathing your face in its soft rays, and Seokjin can’t resist, lifting you up as you squeal, kicking your feet and the two of you stumble over the threshold together.

“That was a lot more romantic in my head,” he chuckles, offering you a hand up.

“Jinnie,” you poke his cheek. “Who’s gonna get the boxes from outside now, huh?”

Taking your hand in his, he pulls you further inside with him, wanting to cherish these precious moments with you. The boxes could wait a little longer. For now, he was excited to begin the rest of your life together.

“God, it’s fucking freezing,” you chatter your teeth, feeling Jin pull the blanket tighter around your shivering bodies on the floor. “Why did the heater have to break right before we moved in?”

His warm figure pulls you closer into him until your bodies are smushed together, limbs entangled in a mess.

“Nothing wrong with a little body heat,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s smirking.

You turn towards him, ignoring his soft ow! when you punch him in the chest, before burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your eyelids flutter, heavy from the fatigue of moving in all day, but the draft in the house causes you to shiver again in Seokjin’s arms. Looking up at your husband, you find his deep brown eyes focused on yours, his warm, gentle breath fanning against your face.

Seokjin’s fingers reach up to slowly brush a stray hair from your cheek, and despite the cold, you feel your body flush with warmth, bumping your nose against his accidentally before your lips meet Seokjin’s pillowy ones.

You’ve done this a thousand times, but every time feels like the first, Seokjin’s tongue tracing the seam of your lips before he bites at them, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Touch me,” you whisper against his mouth, and you feel Seokjin’s grip on your waist get tighter, his hands running up and down your sides until you’re shivering, but not from the cold.

He guides your hips over his, his right hand pushing you down against him until his hungry lips meet yours once again before they drop to mouth at your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into the flesh there, and you bite back a moan.

Seokjin detaches himself from your neck, eyes dark with arousal as he looks at the splotches and faint sheen of saliva on your neck, and you feel a wave of longing rush down towards your core, grabbing his hand that rests on your back and moving it underneath your shirt, cupping your breast in his hands before he squeezes.

From there, the two of you are frantic, fumbling with buttons and kicking your limbs until your clothes fly off, and you giggle at Seokjin’s pyjamas in the corner, the cartoon characters on them resembling miniature versions of your husband. Your laughter is cut off by a sharp groan when Seokjin’s teeth graze your collarbone, biting down lightly.

“You’re perfect,” he rasps, laving at the mark with his tongue. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

His fingers trace up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples, and you whine, grinding down into his lap. You feel him harden underneath you, and you roll your hips on top of him again, nails scratching down the broad planes of his back.

Seokjin flips you around, caging your body underneath him, his knee pushing up right where you need him, his tongue flattening against your stiff nipple, sucking and teasing the bud until it’s red and aching.

“Need you inside,” you bed him, your hips bucking against his knee while his hand slips between your legs, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

You feel the pressure in your stomach build, your movements stuttering against Seokjin’s fingers. It’s amazing, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. You need to feel him.

“Look at me,” Seokjin whispers before he pushes himself inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel so unbelievably full, like you’re going to explode, body scorched with heat and nerves tingling in excitement.

He starts off slow, gently rocking into you, silently asking you if this is okay. His gentleness makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode, the moonlight shining on his skin and bathing him in the softest glow. You feel lucky that he’s yours forever.

You meet his thrusts with circles of your own hips, your back arching up off the blanket as you moan for him to go faster.

“This okay, babe?” His thrusts speed up, snapping into yours, and you’re unable to do anything but slur yes, your voice ringing in your own ears, your moans mingling with his soft groans as the two of you move in tandem, lost in the feeling of each other.

You grip his shoulders tightly, a string of curses exploding from your lips as the pleasure washes over you, your vision going white.

“Come for me ___,” Seokjin’s deep growl has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart underneath him. You whine in oversensitivity when he continues moving inside of you, squeezing his hand until he collapses on top of you, his warm cum spilling into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, burying his face into your neck. “My back is gonna be so sore when we wake up.”

“Can you believe we’re here?” you ask him, looking into his eyes. “Married, with our own house? We’re so old now.”

You mean it as a joke, but Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead, his sweaty arms wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“There’s no one I’d rather grow old with,” he smiles, before his expression turns mischievous. “Now, since we can’t sleep anyway, what do you say to getting some milkshakes, Mrs. Kim?”

“That sounds like a great idea, Mr. Kim.”

A/N pt 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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