#i love this game to bits and it's beautiful and you should play it
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in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you
genres! fluff?, angst, celebrity x celebrity, ex-lovers
word count! 1380
warnings! mention of breakup, heartbreak
synopsis! in another life, you and park sunghoon are lovers, just not in this one
mimi’s note! this fic was inspired by a quote from the movie ‘everything everywhere all at once’ also I'm not very good at writing angst because I hate it but I did my best
“Congrats, big shot,” a familiar voice says from behind you, and you can hear the teasing smile in his tone, “actress of the year award, you're in the big leagues now.”
You turn around to face Park Sunghoon, a renowned figure skater and your ex-boyfriend. You haven't seen each other in almost a year but the sight of him still has the same effect on you it did all those years ago.
He's hauntingly beautiful and you're a house of horrors.
You offer a polite smile, but it's bittersweet as if you were greeting death itself.
“Congratulations to you too, you're becoming a bit of an A-list yourself since you won the Olympics.” you quip, and you both know what kind of game you're going to play tonight.
It’s the same one you always play, the one where he pretends you didn’t break his heart and you pretend everything is fine.
Sunghoon smiles at you too, like you're everything he's ever had and everything he's ever lost.
“Maybe we should exchange autographs like middle schoolers trade Pokémon cards,” he says, and you both chuckle.
“Hmm, I have a feeling mines will be more valuable.”
He playfully puts a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, y/n, but I can’t deny that it’s also true.”
The gala was still roaring with life when you stepped out for some fresh air, you sat on concrete stairs, not caring if you got your 20,000-dollar dress dirty. You couldn't care about a lot of things lately.
You and Sunghoon had long parted ways, the conversation only lasted about five minutes before you were seated at your respective tables, you didn't see him again after that.
You’ve gotten everything you ever dreamed of at this point in your career, and you accomplished all your goals, in the beginning, it all seemed so impossible, but now that you're here and you've done it, you’re not so sure what's left anymore.
The sound of the door opening catches your attention, a tall, pale figure steps out, dressed in a purely black suit, and you recognize him instantly.
“Following me?” you prop your chin in your palm as your elbow rests on your knee, carrying the weight of your head as you tilt it playfully.
He’s not startled by the suddenness of your voice, which tells you, yes, he was looking for you.
He smiled. “Maybe.”
He sat next to you on the stairs, not caring if his 5,000-dollar suit got dirty, though it wasn't actually because he didn't care about the suit, but because he just wanted to be close to you.
You're both silent for a while, simply appreciating being in each other's presence after so long.
Or maybe it's because you don't know what to say and he has too much to say, so you settle for the piercing silence of unsaid words.
Sunghoon has been silent his whole life, but he promised himself tonight he wouldn't be.
“Was it worth it?”
Ah. There it is.
You think as the corners of your lips curl upward, you knew this question was coming, you sensed it the moment you saw him again.
If he had asked you that a year ago you would’ve said yes, no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a straight-up yes, and you would have meant it too.
Suddenly the silk fabric of your dress starts to itch your skin, your diamond embroidered heels start to hurt your feet, and your pearl jewelry feels too heavy.
In only a single minute, Park Sunghoon has stripped you of your persona, called you out for the fraud you are, and seen the real you.
And he accepted you.
You lie to save your pride, it's a habit of yours that he knows all too well.
He doesn't think you're perfect, but you would never have to be for him to love you.
“Sometimes,” you say.
You don't bother lying, he’ll know.
You had always been a good liar until Sunghoon came into your life.
He gently nods in understanding at your response, “Do you ever think about it? About us?”
With a chuckle, you reply, “Of course I do.”
It's true that sometimes leaving him is worth the life you're living now, but there are fragments of times when you imagine what your life could've been with him.
In another life, you never left Sunghoon, you got married, bought a home together, adopted a dog, and had a child.
On the surface that sounds nice, but in another life, you are a housewife with broken dreams, you bought a home together but it wasn't the one you always dreamed of because you had to compromise with Sunghoon, you adopted a dog but you were never really an animal person, and you had a child but motherhood was never for you.
In another life, you are happy to be a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought your dream home together, you adopted a dog that you both love, you had a child and you are the most loving mother.
In another life, you are not a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought a home even better than your dream home, you adopted a dog but you're more of a cat person, and you never had a child but you always wanted to be a mother.
In another life, you and Sunghoon work from home, you bought a decent home together, and although it's not your dream one, it's good enough, you adopted a cat, and you never had a child but because that's the way you liked things.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are divorced, the home you bought together is just walls and a roof with painful memories, you don't adopt any pets, and you never had a child.
In another life, Sunghoon is a househusband, you don't care about having a dream home because any place is home with him, you adopted a dog and a cat, and you had a child who has everything they could ever want.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are teenagers again falling in love for the very first time, and you have no idea what the future holds for you.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are just a little bit younger than you are now, in the kitchen of your shared apartment, and you are trying to figure out how to do laundry so all your clothes don’t turn blue again and how to properly calculate your taxes so you don’t go to prison for tax fraud.
In another life, you and Sunghoon have grown old together, and you are experts at doing laundry and taxes.
In another life, you are the bottles of salt and pepper on the table of a random diner and things are entirely less complicated.
In another life, you never meet Park Sunghoon.
The possibilities are endless, and the truth is, you never know what will happen in your life, and that's scary, but you hope in another life you learn to accept the bad just as easily as you accept the good.
“What does it look like?” he asks.
“Laundry and taxes,” you shrug.
You both laugh at that.
“What about you?” you ask.
“Taxes and laundry,” he smiles.
You both laugh again.
The party inside is completely forgotten about as you and Sunghoon spend what feels like hours just sitting and talking, until the realization that it’s time to go home dawns on you.
Sunghoon gets up first, holding his hand out for you to take, and you do, but when he helps you to your feet he doesn't let go just yet, instead, he looks into your eyes and you feel his thumb caress your knuckles.
“It was nice to see you again, y/n.”
“It was good to see you again too, Sunghoon.”
He finally lets you go and you already miss his warmth.
He almost walks away but turns to face you one last time.
With a hint of a smile on his lips, he says, “You know, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”
And then Park Sunghoon walks out of your life forever, and you let him.
In another life, things didn't end that way.
© 2024 sjyluv, all rights reserved | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
#park sunghoon#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon oneshots#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon x you#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon soft hours#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon angst#sunghoon#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen scenarios#enhypen soft hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen drabbles#enhypen blurbs#enhypen angst#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon x female reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x you
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would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?
i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point
The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.
I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠
✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨
Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?
Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.
He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.
Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.
And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.
He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.
It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.
Aren’t you, Max?
Isn’t he?
Is he?
So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.
He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.
He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.
You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.
No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.
Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.
If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.
You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-
“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.
“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”
Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.
You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”
“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.
“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.
“Sure,”
Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?
He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.
You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.
“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”
He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.
Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?
“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”
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Hi, can i request oneshot story for Minji when she’s busy playing video games and y/n is seeking for her attention? Thanks 💗💗💗
Hopefully you like it ☺️☺️
Video Games
Gamer! Minji X gf! Reader
Description: Minji is playing some video games and y/n is seeking out for attention from her lovely girlfriend
Warnings: none
wc: 2,2k
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Sighing, I entered our shared apartment with my longtime girlfriend, Kim Minji. With a smile, I immediately noticed our white cat meowing and coming towards me, so I bent down and lifted the fluffy bundle into my arms. He promptly rested his chin on my shoulder and began to purr. "Where's Minji, huh?" I asked curiously as I ran my fingers through his soft, long fur.
I checked the kitchen first, then the living room, but every single light was off, and there was no trace of my girlfriend. I sighed and entered our bedroom. Almost immediately, my eyes fell on my beautiful girlfriend in her gaming chair, her hand on the mouse as she clicked wildly. "Watch out. To your right. There's a marker," I heard the sweet, deep voice of my girlfriend say.
She was exactly as I had left her this morning. Hadn't she moved an inch?
I let Haku, our white cat, down to the floor before wrapping my arms around her neck. This made the slightly younger woman flinch, but she immediately relaxed when she realized who was embracing her. With her left hand, she pushed the headset from her left ear to hear me better. "Hey baby," Minji said as she immediately planted a gentle kiss on my lips.
However, it quickly disappeared as I heard Hyein screaming through the headset, followed by Minji returning her attention to the screen. "I see him," Minji quickly said as she eliminated one of her opponents. "Got him," Minji said with a slight grin as she leaned back.
I released my arms from around her as I gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. "Have you fed Haku yet?" I asked as I noticed the meowing getting louder and Haku, as clever as he was, waiting at the door. His gaze bore into me. "Hm?" Minji asked, briefly looking at me before returning her gaze to her screen. "Oh shit. I forgot. I'll feed him after this round," Minji hastily said as she moved the mouse from side to side.
Amused, I shook my head. "Don't worry. I'll do it. Say hi to Hyein and Hanni for me," I replied with a smile, prompting Minji to look at me immediately. Her smile as broad as ever. "They say hello," Minji said with a slight laugh, which made me laugh too. I planted a kiss on my girlfriend's forehead before leaving the room.
"Haku," I called, and almost immediately, I heard the cat trotting into the kitchen. I chuckled and stroked him once through his fur. "Wait," I said seriously as I placed the bowl of food next to his water. I grabbed a pack of vitamins and tossed them into the food as well.
Haku waited patiently, but his eyes never left the food in front of him. His meowing grew louder with each passing second, indicating his impatience. "Go," I simply said, and he immediately started eating. I couldn't help but smile, remembering how he struggled to wait. Training him had been quite difficult, but somehow Minji and I had managed.
Tiredly, I looked at the clock and let out a sigh. Today was an especially tough day... And it was only 4 PM...
So, I went back to the bedroom where Minji was loudly laughing into her mic again, her headset properly on her head. She adjusted her headset behind her ear when she noticed my presence. My eyes also fell on her screen, and apparently, they were in the lobby looking for another game.
My hand rested on her shoulder as I leaned down to her and gave her a kiss. "I'm going to lie down for a bit, okay?" I murmured softly as I yawned. Minji looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Should I turn it off?" she asked, her eyes scanning my entire face. Smiling, I shook my head immediately. "Keep playing, baby," I replied, and Minji nodded in agreement.
With another kiss, I settled onto our bed, of course, after completely undressing. My head found the pillow immediately as I covered myself properly. "I have to be quieter now, guys. Y/n is trying to sleep," I heard my girlfriend say softly, which made me smile again.
How I loved her!
My eyes opened as I noticed the mattress being slightly depressed, and Haku now stood beside me. I smiled and lifted the blanket slightly, and immediately the cat crawled down as well. As always, he rested his head on my arm while stretching his body completely. My hand on his belly as I simply pulled him closer to me, which immediately made him start purring.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Shit! Haerin, watch out. Hanni's already dead!" I heard my girlfriend shout loudly, followed by some cheering, and then she leaned back in annoyance. My eyes slowly opened, almost too tired, as I sat up straight. It took me a moment as I just sat there, blinking.
"Baby."
"Minji."
"Hey, baby?"
"MINJI!"
Startled, Minji now turned slightly and looked at me with wide eyes. She immediately removed her headset from her head, which automatically muted the mic. "Oh. Did I wake you up?" she asked, now speaking quieter and more concerned as she looked at me in the dark room. She got up from her chair and came over to me, sitting on the bed. With a smile on her face, she brushed the strands of hair from my face and pressed her lips to mine.
"Sorry."
I huffed slightly. "Should we cook something together?" I asked as I tilted my head slightly. My fingers also immediately grasped her top as I held onto her a bit. "Spend some time together?" I added, and Minji hummed in agreement. She kissed me once more and then looked at the screen. "After this round?" she asked, turning her head to me again.
I sighed, but nodded. "Okay. But just one more round. I miss having my girlfriend's attention, you know?" I replied with a slight playful grin. Minji chuckled and nodded. She put her headset back on and returned to her chair to start the next round.
I knew it...
Annoyed, I looked at my girlfriend, who had now said for the 4th time that she would only play one more round. Huffing silently, I wordlessly got up from the bed and went to the kitchen. With furrowed brows and an annoyed expression on my face, I looked into the fridge to decide what exactly I would cook.
Minutes passed as the pot boiled. My eyebrows raised as I felt the all-too-familiar arms around my waist. Her chin rested on my shoulder. "Baby?" she asked softly, her voice gentle and almost apologetic. "Are you mad?" she asked, which only made me huff again.
She immediately turned me around so I could look into her eyes. Minji looked at me, trying to study me. With an eye roll, I sighed, "Are you done playing now? You've been playing all day," I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.
Minji bit her lip as she looked at me. "Uh... not yet," Minji mumbled as she pulled me closer to her "After this round, okay?" she asked, pouting quite obviously. I rolled my eyes again, but I gave in. "Okay. One more round," I replied, which prompted Minji to thank me with a wide grin and a kiss.
I watched her disappear into the bedroom again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With furrowed brows, I placed the plate, perhaps a bit too roughly, on the desk where Minji was sitting. Minji looked at me with wide eyes, "Oh shit," she cursed under her breath, but I simply left the bedroom and went to the living room to watch something while eating.
Unbelievable...
She didn't even budge now...
My eyes glanced at the clock once again, 8 PM...
How on earth could I get Minji to finally pay attention to me? Should I seduce her? No... that would almost be like rewarding her...
So, I finally went back to the bedroom, and with an annoyed expression, I pushed her chair back a bit. "No, baby," Minji said as she leaned forward, "We'll win soon," she explained hastily. She didn't even take her eyes off the screen.
I nudged her right arm away from the mouse and with a jerk, I sat on her lap. Minji didn't seem to mind as she just rolled us closer to the desk and her hand landed back on the mouse. Pouting, I rested my head on her shoulder, "What's wrong?" Minji asked as she glanced briefly at me before returning her gaze to the screen.
"It's late," I murmured, sighing as I sat up so I could look at her, "I just want to spend some time with my girlfriend... is that so wrong?" I asked, pouting as I grasped onto her white Nike t-shirt. Minji's eyes flickered to me as she sighed, "No, no. I'm coming right away, okay?" she replied, but it only made me huff.
"You've been saying that for 2 hours," I retorted, which made Minji hum and nod her head. I sighed as I draped my hands over her neck, pulling myself closer to her. Minji's hand now rested on my lower back as she simply hugged me.
"Baby, you're breathing into the mic," Minji said, laughing lightly as she turned her head slightly to move the mic away from my nose. My eyes narrowed in annoyance, and I sat up straight to look at my girlfriend in the face, "Kim Minji, I swear, if you don't turn it off now, you're in for it," I said much more seriously.
Almost immediately, I heard the others start to laugh and probably say something to Minji. My jaw tensed, which prompted Minji to place her lips on my jawline. I noticed Minji muting her mic and then playfully grinning at me, "What am I in for?" she asked challengingly, which immediately made me roll my eyes again.
"I just want attention... please," I murmured, quieter now as I pushed my lower lip forward. My legs were starting to ache a bit from this uncomfortable position I was sitting in. I kissed the tip of my girlfriend's nose, "Please," I repeated, which made Minji sigh.
Her arms tightened around me as she turned her mic back on, "Guys, I'm out for today," I heard my girlfriend say, which made me smile immediately. Overjoyed, I showered her neck with soft little kisses as she turned off her computer and placed the headset on the desk. Her hands were immediately on my hips as she practically lounged in that chair.
"So, how can I give all my attention to my girlfriend now?" she asked, grinning slightly. My eyes looked down at her, as I was still sitting on her lap. Her thumb stroked over my hip bones, while her eyes were locked onto mine. A grin on her lips.
I hummed as I smiled a little. My upper body leaned forward again so that our lips met once more. Minji laughed a bit as she hugged me tightly, causing the chair to tilt back even further, which startled me. Minji immediately laughed at me and brushed some loose strands of hair behind my ear.
"Are we finally going to watch the new drama?" I asked, my fingers absentmindedly wandering over her chest. Minji nodded her head and tapped on my bare thigh, indicating that I should get up. I did so immediately and pulled Minji with me into the living room.
"I'll go to the bathroom real quick. Could you make some popcorn?" she asked as she let go of my hand and looked at me with a small smile. I nodded my head and watched as Minji disappeared into the bathroom. Haku followed her and also went into the bathroom, while I went into the kitchen and prepared the microwave popcorn.
"Baby? How much longer do you need?" Minji called from the living room as the popcorn continued to pop in the microwave. I hummed, "About 2 more minutes or so," I called back, which Minji acknowledged with an okay.
With the finished bowl of popcorn in hand, I went into the living room and handed the bowl to Minji. "What about you?" she asked, which made me giggle. I simply sat down next to the taller woman, prompting her to cover both of us with the thin blanket, keeping us warm.
"We're out of salty popcorn," I replied as I felt Haku settle on my lap and curl up into a ball. My hand found his white fur almost immediately, causing him to start purring. "Let's start," I said excitedly as Minji took the remote and started the drama.
Minji's arm wrapped around my waist as I rested my head on her shoulder. "Oh, the food was so delicious. Thank you for that," Minji said, smiling as she pressed a kiss to my temple. Happily, I grinned from ear to ear and gently tapped my girlfriend's leg. "Watch the drama, baby," I said, chuckling lightly, which Minji immediately nodded in agreement.
So, together, we watched the drama, and as often happens, Minji dozed off a bit. My head still resting on her shoulder as I simply closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep as well.
#newjeans minji#newjeans hanni#hanni pham#newjeans#danielle#haerin#newjeans hyein#minji x reader#newjeans x reader#kim minji#kpop x reader#kpop gg
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New Ideas for HOTD Fashion pt.4
This one’s a little different, considering we’re also going to include Alicent in this little change of costumes 😊
So exhibit A:
The Blue Dress and the Gold. How many times have we seen those now??? Time for a little change. Not only are these the outfits they were when Rhaenyra calls Alicent a WHORE💀 but it’s also the scene where it is revealed that Alicent will be betrothed to Viserys…not long after their appropriate period of grieving had ended.
I feel like Rhaenyra is not entirely out of her grieving period (bc why should she be) and it might be reflected in her clothes with darker tones. Now I don’t imagine her in complete darkness but with some gold peaking through around the sleeves and the neckline, not the complete gold that she wore in the beginning when she was but an innocent child but enough to show a start of an internal struggle. The bits of red could also be a show of her start into maturity and her beginning to take her role as heir more seriously. By having just small amounts of the gold and red that almost seems overshadowed by the seemingly Targaryen black could be a symbol of her standing on the line between her innocence and her duty, being tugged this way and that by her grief. Bc make no mistake she is still in grief, now not only for her mother but in the scene she begins to grieve the loss of Alicent as well. Now Alicent may not be dead but what Rhaenyra deems as her BEST FRIENDS betrayal is far worse than death in her eyes.
As for Alicent she is bordering on (forced) maturity. She’s been subtly flirting and playing the game of courtship, she’s been wearing more of her mothers dresses, but at the end of the day she’s just a little girl and she’s sad as hell and anxious and distraught in both scenes. That could be reflected in many ways, perhaps by her wearing another one of her mother’s dresses but perhaps one of a lighter color as Alicent clings to her innocence that is being stolen away. Green embroidery or a dark velvet green border as a symbol of marriage and motherhood creeping in at the seems to swallow her whole :
These dresses are exactly what I in-vision, the subtle symbolism you can find or weave into these dresses for the moment they are worn speaks volumes. When I see a costume I want it to reflect a character and what they’re going through, their personality, bc a lot of people express themselves through their clothes.
The jewelry would obviously have to change a bit, Rhaenyra was currently not wearing the necklace Daemon had gifted her after he stole Baelon’s egg, and Alicent needs a necklace as well.
For Rhaenyra’s necklace I would make it a combination of these two:
I like the gold as it matches her earrings, as does the rubies, but I also like the symbolism that could be created by adding the diamond as the final hanging gem. A diamond that reflects as it catches the light. Like tears shed and unshed that had and will soon fall down her cheeks.
And with Alicent, I’d expect the same symbolism. Blue fading to green, innocence fading to maturity, a candle turning into a blaze, a Lady becoming a Queen:
(And her earrings could be much the same, with one being a blue and one being a green)
And lastly the hairrr👩🦳
For Rhaenyra I imagine something like this:
Nothing too out there, but beautiful and fitting. It would keep it out of her face whilst still holding the beauty of the Targaryen braid and letting her hair flow down straight and free. Combination of kept and free. Rhaenyra has freedom, in her cage.
Alicent was a little more tricky bc I wanted something that was simple, not too regal yet, and still more of her usual style that we saw in her younger years. I stumbled on this:
I like the braided crown, a symbol of the future crown that will come to rest on her head as Queen. I also love that Helaena wears this in her hair, and I like that maybe she stole it from her mother bc she remembers her wearing her hair like that when she was younger. And whilst we have seen Alicent with a braided crown before, this one was more prominent and pulled more forward like an actual crown.
Alright that’s all I’ve got for the outfits in that real and deleted scene between Alicent and Rhaenyra. I’m sure I’ll find more I’d like to see a little differently. I know it won’t change the costumes but hey it’ll give me a little something more to picture in my mind
#house of the dragon#hotd#alicent hightower#team black#team green sympathizer#asoiaf#fire and blood#queen alicent hightower#lady alicent#lady Alicent Hightower#queen rhaenyra targaryen#princess rhaenyra targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#princess helaena#helaena targaryen#queen helaena#hotd season 1#hotd s1#hotd costumes#hotd fashion#hotd deleted scenes
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childhood friends
i saw this photo while playing Undertale Yellow and HAD to draw it in my style, it was very important
here's the in-game original:
#undertale#undertale yellow#Starlo#Ceroba#UTY Starlo#UTY Ceroba#undertale yellow Starlo#undertale yellow Ceroba#undertale yellow fanart#UTY fanart#Ceroba Ketsukane#i love this game to bits and it's beautiful and you should play it#can recommend#(yes i gave both five fingers just cause it's easier for me LMAO)#art#fanart#digital art#sen draws#(excuse the lack of a proper background — i was lazy)
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i don't really know how to word this but like i feel like i'm gonna forever have to deal with the pain and heartache of one of my very first pokémon games- the first 'normal' pokémon game i've ever played, that i will have lasting nostalgia and love for as a result of it being formative to my introduction into the series- being the one that will forever be looked down upon for bad graphics and technical issues as a result of the game having been rushed
like i honest to goodness want to scream and yell and cry into the void about how this means everything to me and will always be one of my fave games just in general. but how am i gonna do that without someone being like 'the broken overpriced mess? the one that's missing all this stuff from the older games that was great? the thing with all the cringe? that one?' or whatever. and the thing is they aren't wrong for their criticisms either like i know the fact that they rushed this wonderful game hardcore is a massive stain on its reputation and it hurts me too but like i cannot turn off the brain full of love in me and be a mean critic. or even an impartial one. i mean i criticize everything i love don't get me wrong i am constantly running my mouth about what i like and don't like. but at the end of the day i approach all media with an unusually optimistic mindset. if you see me talk a ton about something no matter what i'm saying you can bet it means i love it.
just. aaagh. it's always tough being a new fan of an old series. i'm like too embarrassed to express my opinions bc i feel like they're invalid y'know? i feel so exhausted every time i see something to the effect of like 'oh those poor kids these days having to deal with such bad quality everything what a bad time to be a fan of pokémon wow y'all make me feel so old' well see the thing is i actually am thriving and i love it here. and i'm also an adult myself so i have more critical thinking skills than people who played red when they were like five years old did. and even with the power of critical thinking i manage to be in love with this. join me in marvelling at the beauty of life
#sorry for the massive rant i am full of both love and rage but i feel alone in this world about this particular subject#my other fav complaint is like 'they make it too easy to xyz these days'#to me that reads like 'i suffered so why shouldn't they'#yes we should encourage people to spend 100 hours grinding to do basic story requirements.#to weed out the true gamers from the weaklings. or maybe we could use the spare time in our lives to touch grass#the only easy-fication change in sv i don't like is the ability to access boxes right from the menu#that kinda cheapens the need to strategically organize a team before heading somewhere#i can.. sorta understand being miffed about the remember moves mechanic?#frankly platinum was so stressful with not being able to freely switch without great hassle/cost#it would have been a fair enough compromise to make you pay a bit of lp or something#or do it for free but having to go to like a pokécenter or something#i'll never agree that exp share is bad though sorry#pokémon#ok but about the 'i feel bad for kids these days with these ugly designs/lame 3D models' thing#yeah i have news for you every gen has its ugly/stupid pokémon.#dude look at exeggcute#and some of the oldest spritework is hideous#granted the ds era spritework was beautiful#but i don't see what is so bad about the 3D models of today? they're both nice...#dude play an indie game or something if it's that important to you idk#it will never be the 90s again. it will never be the 00s again. i'm sorry.
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fever pitch
✩ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
#mark lee x reader#mark lee smut#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios#mark lee imagines#mark lee fanfic#nct smut#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut#yn brainrot
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Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky
Gojo first met you when you where four.
He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.
Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.
He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’
But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.
Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.
The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.
That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.
And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.
Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.
Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.
Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.
But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?
Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.
And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.
You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.
Were you treating him like everyone else after all?
“Gojo?”
Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”
“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.
“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”
“That’s just too bad—!”
From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.
Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.
Where as Shoko had a blast!
She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.
Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.
“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.
Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.
He looks away.
No, too cute.
He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”
Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.
He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.
Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.
But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.
Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’
How stupid!
Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.
He meets you again though.
12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.
But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.
Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.
You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.
His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”
“Say it again.”
“Huh…?”
“My name. Satoru…”
You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.
“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”
before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.
Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.
“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.
The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.
But you?
Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo imagine#gojo imagines#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo fluff
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉
Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story.
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck.
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell.
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion.
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table.
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips.
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests.
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression.
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown.
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences.
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes.
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment.
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook.
Fuck.
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you.
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends?
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention.
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests.
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere.
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy.
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek.
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated.
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm.
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants.
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx.
–
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness.
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass.
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss.
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you.
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips.
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins.
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.”
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body.
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing.
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold.
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric.
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit.
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers.
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp.
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence.
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall.
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more.
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?”
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two.
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves.
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix.
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!”
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too.
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him.
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot.
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment.
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction.
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins.
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo.
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels.
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy.
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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blerd!ony…💭
been wanting to write about my sweetheart + I needed something self indulgent today so here we are! 🩷
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you never really liked talking anime or nerd culture with men!…a strange thought but a true one nonetheless. It was always one exhausting conversation after the next. From being giving random pop quizzes about this series or a lecture about how that one doesn’t measure up to the solidified greats. That was until you met blerd!ony…the gentle, kindhearted cashier in the store you frequented on a daily basis. Blerd!ony, who recognized the t-shirt you were wearing immediately from that very obscure yet classic anime you loved so much, became absolutely ecstatic to talk to you from that day on. The tall, gorgeous male with a smile like the stars, the most beautiful complexion you’ve ever seen and a voice like honey had given you even more of a reason to gush over him. “You gotta give me your top five right now. I always see your keychains and shit. You got good taste..” you were a bit hesitant because this was always the point where things went left but blerd!ony surprised you by praising your choices and even saying he’d check out the ones you’d put him on to. blerd!ony, who had a sleeve full of video game themed tattoos took pride in showing off his pieces when you happened to catch him outside on smoke break one night. Telling you how he played all the time and even streamed a bit in his free time. “I do alright, you should check me out.” blerd!ony, who was always holding up the line just to chat with his favorite customer about the new series he just started. “I’m talking to my girl, y’all can wait—anyways, did you see that new episode? Shit was crazy.” it wasn’t long before he was asking for your socials and hoping to keep the communication going on days even when he couldn’t see you. blerd!ony, who couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the girl who came in his store with sweatpants and a DBZ shirt all dolled up in your cosplays..some a lot more revealing than others. blerd!ony, who’d always wanted to try the hobby but was afraid had some questions..among other things the next time he saw you. “I see how it is, best friend. You be putting that shit on.” you were infatuated with his humor and laid back personality so naturally, when he invited you to an anime cafe in your city, you accepted. blerd!ony, who was the perfect gentleman ensured that you had the best time as you two chopped it up about all things nerdy, making you laugh more than you had in a long time.
blerd!ony, who confided in you that he didn’t have many friends and especially ones into the things he was, told you how happy he was to have met you. “You cool as hell, we gotta do this more often.” a sentiment you agreed with heavily agreed with. Some time had passed and you two spoke nearly everyday. That’s when he revealed that he was not only interested in attending his first con but cosplaying as well, asked you accompany him..and pick a character! “I trust you, ma. Make me look good..” it was a no brainer as the two of you were huge fans of the Mortal Kombat series and decided to dress as Sindel and Shao Kahn. So the two of you spent days going to the fabric store and ordering materials to build props in your spare time..blerd!ony, who was turning heads the entire time when he revealed that Adonis like figure that had been hiding underneath that company polo everyday..you were nervous and even a little embarrassed walking beside someone so fine. but blerd!ony couldn’t keep his eyes off of you or hands..holding your left one, keeping you close and grasping the small of your back as he guided you through the crowds. Even carrying all of your bags and letting you rest your tired feet on his lap. blerd!ony, who had been eyeing you all day couldn’t help but to be entranced when it was time for the after party and the two of you were dancing with liquor in your system. “You full of surprises, huh mama?” “Try me and you might find out just how many.” blerd!ony, who couldn’t wait to get back to you guys’ hotel room, tore that costume open quicker than you could get the door open..leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as his fingers delved into your core, pinning you against the wall in the process. “You so fucking sexy..” muttering in your ear as he hiked your leg up and tugged his bottoms down. blerd!ony, who fucked you like a man starved that night had you grasping at things that weren’t even there..taking you from the mirror, to the dresser and eventually the bed, where he gave you deep backshots; grasping that platinum gray lace front on your head as he did so. “You don’t know how long I been wanting this..fuck..” blerd!ony, who had you fucking up the sheets all night, getting stretched by that thick cock with the curve, absolutely depleted you, so much so, you two barely made it around the convention the next day but he was glad that he had met the girl who loved the same things he did and the one of his dreams. <3
#cherry’s works ✦⭒#aot x black reader#black fem reader#aot onyankopon#onyankopon smut#onyankopon x black y/n#onyankopon x reader#onyankapon#onyankopon snk#onyankopon x you#he will be making a regular appearance on this blog btw <3#aot au#ony x black reader#ony smut#aot smut#aot headcanons#snk smut#snk headcanons#attack on titan#this is so long winded I’m sorry but it’s been a day#black reader#black reader smut#aot drabbles#aot fanfiction#cw smut#attack on titan au#cosplay#blerdshit#anime smut#anime fanfic
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(I have just hit a very nice (silly) milestone of 6969 followers, so I wrote this little ficlet to celebrate and thank you all for always being so supportive 💛 I hope you enjoy)
Everyone is shocked when Steve and Eddie announce they’re moving in together.
But, to Steve, it’s really a no-brainer. Robin is going away to college, the kids are starting to get their licenses and no longer need a babysitter, and Eddie desperately wants to get out of Hawkins.
So, Steve bought a map, measured the distance between Hawkins and Robin’s college, and marked a spot right in the middle.
Okay, so maybe it ended up being in the middle of a river, but there was a town near there that was perfectly not too far from Hawkins while being far away enough for Eddie to feel safe. As well as being far enough from Robin to give her space at her new school while being close enough that she could easily spend the night at their place whenever she wanted.
But distance wasn’t a problem for anyone, they were mainly concerned about how Steve and Eddie would live with each other and not kill each other.
But after a few weeks, Steve can confidently say that living with Eddie is… nice actually.
Really really nice.
Of course, he had been a little concerned about all their differences and adjusting to having someone always around, but Steve enjoys the company.
Actually, he specifically enjoys Eddie’s company.
Sure, he can be loud and a bit messy, but Steve loves that their small apartment actually feels like a home.
Whenever Robin stops by, she comments about how domestic they’re getting. Especially whenever Eddie randomly appears with a cup of water not even seconds after Steve mentions he was getting thirsty.
But what Steve fails to mention to Robin are all the little other things Eddie does, like when it’s late at night and Eddie brushes the hair off of Steve’s forehead and says, “It’s a little late for me to see those beautiful eyes still open."
Sometimes when they're watching a movie, Steve will fall asleep and wake up to Eddie carrying him to bed as if it's an easy thing to do.
And yeah, maybe Steve finds it overwhelmingly hot, and maybe he clings a little tighter whenever Eddie tries to put him down so they're stuck in a tight embrace that Steve can wave off as a result of being half asleep.
But sometimes Eddie's eyes linger on Steve a little longer than they should or Eddie will throw his arm over the back of the couch and let his fingertips lightly trace over Steve's shoulder or run through his hair gently as if he doesn't even notice himself doing it. And it makes Steve think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie might have feelings for him too.
But just when things are going great, and Steve is thinking about testing the boundaries of their friendship to push more into romantic territory, Eddie starts fucking with him.
The problem is, it's not anything big or obvious that Steve can just laugh off. Instead, Eddie starts messing with the thermostat. The thermostat Steve likes to keep strictly at 71.
But Eddie has decided to set it to 69.
At first, Steve just adjusts it, wondering why Eddie is bumping it down when he's always cold and wraps himself in a blanket, complaining that 71 is too cold.
After two days of back and forth, Steve wonders if the thing is just broken because he hasn't actually seen Eddie mess with it. So, he wanders to Eddie's room and knocks on the door lightly before opening it.
Eddie lays back on his bed with a smirk on his face that instantly alerts Steve that Eddie has in fact been messing with him.
He crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. "Have you been messing with the thermostat?"
Eddie shrugs and comments, "Maybe."
Steve frowns, not sure what the hell kind of game Eddie's playing at. "Well, can you maybe leave it at seventy-one?"
"And if I don't?" Eddie challenges, cocking his head to the side, "What are you going to do about it?"
"Change it back to seventy-one," Steve replies easily. He feels like he's missing something when Eddie's face falters a bit, but he hopes it's just him getting the message to not mess with it. And just in case he doesn't get it, he shuts the door a little more firmly than usual.
Only, two days later, Steve happens to notice that the thermostat is set to 69 again. He scowls and presses the button twice before going off to Eddie's room and knocking on the door again a little harder than usual, wondering why Eddie is trying to mess with him after they had been having such a nice day.
"Come in!" Eddie chirps.
Steve swings the door open and rests his hands on his hips. "You changed it again."
Eddie shrugs and leans back on his bed looking overly comfortable. "Just setting the mood."
"Yeah, you've set the mood, and you set it to annoyed. Stop changing it," Steve says as he starts to close the door. He stops as it's about to close and peaks his head back in. "Please."
With that, he thinks he's done with the whole thing. And after a few days pass, he's pretty much forgotten about the whole incident.
That is, until Robin comes to visit and suddenly asks, "Does it feel slightly colder in here to you?"
Steve groans and walks over to the thermostat, seeing the number 69 staring back at him. He's not sure when Eddie changed it, but he's not even currently there so Steve can yell at him. Instead, he just complains to Robin, "Eddie's been fucking with me and changing the thermostat."
Robin snorts. "Isn't he like perpetually cold all the time?"
"Yes! Which is why I'm so confused about him keeping it at sixty-nine all the time."
Robin pauses and glances over at Steve. "What is he keeping it at?"
"Sixty-nine."
Robin just cackles in response, and Steve glares at her asking, "What?"
"Sixty-nine!" Robin laughs again.
"Real mature, Robin," Steve says, rolling his eyes before the realization hits him. "Oh, Christ."
Robin only laughs harder, but Steve is stuck on the other conversations he had with Eddie which were... definitely miscommunications. Oh god, was Eddie trying to... proposition him?
Robin's laughter dies down enough for her to ask, "What's wrong?"
Steve gives her a look and sits down on the couch next to her, further realizing the thermostat incidents happened after days when the two of them got a little more... friendly than usual.
Steve sighs and explains the entire situation including the things he's left out before including his feelings for Eddie. He's glad that Robin holds in her laughter until after he's done.
"Stop laughing, it's not funny."
Robin manages to say through her laughter, "You both are disasters. But you're both so gone on each other that it's almost a little disgusting." She then stands up and grabs her bag, walking toward the front door.
"Where are you going?" Steve asks, following her.
Robin turns around and gives Steve a look. "I'm leaving before Eddie gets back and you two..." she gestures toward the thermostat.
Steve groans, "Get out, Buckley." He can't help but smile before he pulls her into a hug and digs some money out of his wallet.
"What's this?" Robin asks.
"Gas money for sending you away early."
Robin smiles and salutes him. "I guess this means I'll be coming back tomorrow."
"I'll call in case we're still-"
"Gross, dingus," Robin says with a laugh before she hugs him one more time and whispers, "Thank you for telling me."
Steve just squeezes her a little tighter.
After she leaves, Steve takes a minute to form a plan before Eddie gets back from whatever store he went to. He looks at the thermostat and sets it back to 71 degrees while he tries to think.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get far in his thinking before the front door unlocks and Eddie walks in with a few grocery bags in hand.
Steve just turns around and tries not to look too startled by Eddie's sudden appearance.
Eddie gives him a confused look and gestures outside. "Did I just see Robin leave?"
Steve nods but gives no further explanation, stuck on how the hell he's supposed to approach this subject with Eddie. God, now he understands the thermostat method.
"You okay?" Eddie asks before his eyes settle on the thermostat. "Oh, shit. Sorry, I did that late last night. Can we just forget that that happened? It was... dumb really."
Instead of forgetting it, Steve dramatically reaches up and hits the down button twice. "I think I finally get it." Eddie's eyes widen as Steve crosses his arms and continues, "Setting the mood, right? Or, tell me, what are you going to do about it?"
Eddie looks at him for a second then suddenly drops all the bags in his hands, practically racing down the hallway to Steve and cupping his face in his hands. "Am I reading this right?"
Steve slowly glances at the thermostat. "Well, it does say sixty-nine."
Eddie huffs out a laugh but quickly clarifies, "I don't just want that. I mean... I like you. And I just couldn't think of a good way to bring that up without it being some type of joke. Not that liking you is a joke, but oh god-"
"Eddie," Steve says firmly, stopping his rambling. "I like you, too."
Eddie's face lights up. "Yeah?"
Steve nods as his hands come up to Eddie's waist and pull him in a little closer.
"You like me enough to sixty-"
"Oh, shut up," Steve says with a big smile.
"Make me," Eddie replies, giving Steve an exaggerated wink.
Steve shakes his head and sighs before pulling Eddie into a sweet kiss, both of them smiling too much to make it anything more than a peck. When they pull away, Steve thinks he might murder Eddie when he whispers, "Nice."
But he wouldn't have it any other way.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie ficlet#they're both idiots and i love them#thank you guys for 6969 <3
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Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part One
Part Two
PART THREE
"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."
"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"
"Yeah, like a series."
"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"
"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"
"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."
Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.
"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"
"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"
"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.
Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"
"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."
Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.
Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'
And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.
There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.
"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."
Steve's heart fucking melts.
Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.
"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"
"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."
"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"
"Yeah. Still not my thing-"
"Oh."
"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."
"...yeah?"
"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."
"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"
"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."
"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.
"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."
"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.
"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."
"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."
"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."
"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."
And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.
@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao
@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch
#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#steddie#my fic writing#fan fic stuff#fic wip#ficlet#rock star eddie munson#baker steve harrington#dungeons and dragons
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romeo | T.S
previous part | next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; tommy shelby is an unpredictable man.
warnings ; arranged marriage!trope , fem!reader , angst(?) , soft!tommy , asshole!tommy kinda ig ?, mentions of violence ,
a/n ; i've been THINKING OF THIS SCENE FOR SO LONG AND I HOPE I WROTE IT WELL, lmk know what you guys think<333
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"i swear to god!" your hands shake as you push the stray strands behind your ear "i swear to god, ya must 'ave a death wish or something"
"love-"
"no!" you scream , you can physically feel your blood boiling "jeremy, you're digging your own fucking grave, tommy knows something is not right"
"i'm not scared of 'im" he scoffed, running a hand through his hair.
it was a beautiful day outside, the sun is out and no cloud in sight. you're both standing outside your house, in the back.
"ya should be" you close your eyes, trying to recompose "who put ya up to this? where is all this fucking love coming from?"
"no one did ! i-" he huffs "i can't lose ya ! not to 'im"
"why do ya care ?" you can't hide the frustration in your voice "is this some sort of game you're playing?"
"because it was supposed to be me! it was supposed to be me you're marrying!"
you stare at him for a long moment, "when did ya start feeling that way? before or after ya fucked your brother's wife?"
"this was in the past!"
"and so are YOU, ya were supposed to stay in my past" you yell back at him "you're no longer a part of my life, so i suggest ya get going"
"you're marrying a monster." he leans down, snarling at you "even i am better than 'im, ya should be thanking me for even wanting to save ya" he steps back, looking you up and down "maybe i should leave ya to get killed by 'im, just like that bartender."
your nostrils flare and you could swear that all you saw was white, your hands fly up and grab him from his shirt collar , pulling him down to face you.
"ya listen to me ya disease riddled rat" you spit at him, "if ya ever come here again, if ya even open that mouth of yours and speak my name or tommy's name again, i will personally slit your throat. it wont be the peaky fucking blinders that will gut ya, it'll be me."
you push him away, and his eyes are wide. he's staring at you as if he's eye to eye with the devil. he snaps out of his terror filled trance , he takes a few steps back before running out of the house.
you walk inside and your hands are still trembling, you close your eyes and rub at your face. all your family gathered around you, and just looking at each other, not knowing what to say.
your arms are crossed as you sat on the sofa, a scene that seems to be repeating itself a lot. tommy is sat on the chair in front of you. the two of you are silent, staring at each other , waiting for the other to break and speak.
"who is he?" his voice breaks the silence, choosing to lose this round.
"a little bit of context would be nice, ya know. every now and then." you tilt your head as you speak,
"the man that left your house running for his life."
"how do ya know about that?" your brows knit together,
"doesn't matter." he shakes his head slightly, he sits with his legs crossed, fingers tapping against the armrest
"it does actually, who told ya?"
he doesn't answer, his blue eyes stare right back at you , as if you already knew the answer.
the dots connect , and your eye brows relax, your eyes widening every so slightly "you're spying on me...."
"i have eyes around here , yes."
"why?" by some miracle, your voice isn't high pitched and loud.
"because i can, and i want to" his voice was just as calm as yours.
"why are ya spying on me , thomas?" you grit your teeth, closing your eyes for a moment to calm down before you pop a vein.
"to make sure you're safe"
you let out a huff of a laugh , your eyes look at anything but him, and you can feel his eyes on you, unmoving.
"safe ? or are ya making sure i'm not getting fucked behind your back?"
"that's not something i'm worried about"
you look back at him, your eye brow raised "then what are ya worried about?"
"because you're now a target." he looks at you, his words are calculated and firm "what did ya think would 'appen if ya married the head of the peaky blinders?"
a moment passed, you're trying to decipher if he's lying to you, if he still doesn't trust you.
"he's an old boyfriend"
"what business does he 'ave around here?"
"he wanted to talk me out of marrying ya." your eyes are studying his face, for any sort of reaction , but there's none.
"and what did ya say to 'im?"
"i'm still wearing your ring , aren't i?"
"do ya still love 'im?"
you lean back on the sofa , your eyes closed as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "no, if i did i wouldn't be sitting here getting interrogated by the man i'm supposed to be spending the rest of my life with"
"why didn't ya tell me about it? when i asked?"
"because i'm not a fucking child , i can take care of my own business." you lose the grip on your emotions, frustration seeps out and laces around your voice
"if it concerns ya, it concerns me as well."
"ya know what?" you stand up "i think we need go stop seeing each other for a while because i can't promise to not slap ya in the face the next time ya speak"
he chuckled and it only served to anger you further, and when you try to storm out , he grabs you.
he could swear that actual daggers were flying out of your eyes, but he was amused nonetheless.
"sit down."
"go fuck yourself."
you pull your arms out of his grasp and walk up the stairs, heading for your room
tommy huffs a laugh, looking around.
you swore you were hallucinating. you put your hair brush down, looking at the window behind you through the mirror , before hearing it again and this time you see it too, it's a rock
your brows furrowed and you get up, walking slowly to the window before another rock hits it again, you look down.
and here he is, your fucking fiancé , in his usual get up but without his jacket , his sleeves are rolled up, throwing rocks at your window.
his blue eyes twinkled , looking up at you, his face lit up when he saw you
your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell before unlocking the window and opening it
"are ya insane ? 'ave ya lost your fucking mind?" it's a hushed yell, you try to not wake up the whole house.
"happy to see me?" he's smiling
"no , i'm not happy to see ya. what the fuck are ya doing here?" your hands are resting on the window cell
"come down here and i'll tell ya" he throws the few rocks that were in his hand back on the ground , dusting away the dirt off his hand "are ya gonna make me come up there?"
you're staring at him in disbelief,
"well?" he stands with his hands on his hips
you shut the windows closed , and a smile of victory paints over his lips. you put on your cardigan and try to walk down the stairs without stomping your feet in anger.
"tommy what the fuck are ya doing here?"
you truly couldn't understand this man, the moment you thought you did , he does something that takes you back to square one.
you fight back the giddiness and the butterflies in your stomach that go wild when he looks at you, that smile that you've only seen once before , when he proposed makes your chest feel full.
"well?" you repeat his own words , waiting for an explanation
"i do trust ya"
"what?" that throws you off ,again. another way for him to prove that you can never predict him
"i trust ya." he speaks softly, his smile softens and his eyes makes everything seem all too real
"then why are ya spying on me?" you whispered, you couldn't stop yourself from asking him that question.
"i can't afford not to"
"again, context goes a long way , tommy."
"i can't afford to lose ya." he whispered back , his eyes stuck on yours "and if i 'ave to put a man on every fucking corner of this neighborhood to make sure you're safe , then so be it."
you look at him for a moment before looking away , trying to hold back the smile.
"i hate ya." you murmur "i do , i hate ya."
"don't lie to me, it's useless." he leans closer
you look back at him and you're standing nose to nose. his eyes drop to your lips before looking back at yours
"i'm not lying."
he chuckles, leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours and your eyes flutter shut. a hand on your jaw and the other rests on your waist.
it's nothing like the first kiss you two shared , this one is different and you can feel. your body feels like it's alight.
he's almost apologetic, pouring every word , every emotion he couldn't let out into that kiss. your fingers grab onto his waistcoat.
a long moment later, you pull away. but your hands remain in their place
"we've never even been on a date" he speaks against your lips
"that's how arranged marriages usually work."
"would ya like to go on one?" he raises a brow , in an amused expression
you chuckle "sure why not, i'm marrying ya anyway."
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#kadwrites#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction
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voicemails sim jake leaves you while he’s on tour — fluff, established relationship, tiny bit of angst
heeseung | jay | JAKE | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki
one. we’re on our way to the airport right now, babe. new york is next on the list, ah, i’ve always wanted to go. maybe next time we can go togeth— shut up! no wait, that wasn’t for you baby. wait, give me a second. sunghoon, if you don’t stop mocking me right now, i’m pushing you off this car! okay, hi babe. where was i? oh, yeah, airport. i miss you! i’ll call you when we land.
two. ah, the views here are so pretty. well, of course, you’re prettier than them, but their beauty will have to suffice because you’re not here with me. i should take you here someday.
three. everything reminds me of you. what have you done to me? i’m so in love with you, and i have no plans at all to leave. i’m having that forever with you.
four. today was your interview right? how did it go? i know you prepared so hard for it. good job, princess. now, get some rest, okay? and i trust you’ll treat yourself and eat well. i love you.
five. not much longer, my love. i can’t wait to hold you and kiss you. and, oh. speaking of coming home, they’re giving us a week long break. how do you feel about meeting my family? and layla? they’ll love you. would that be okay? i just want them to meet the person i’m planning to spend the rest of my life with.
six. i miss you so much. today was very hard, but thinking about you helped me stay strong. i miss you.
seven. we played a game earlier in jungwon’s room. some sort of word association game? like, someone would say a word, and you had to answer with something you associate with that word. the boys asked me what comfort was like and i said you right away. of course, they teased me right after but i just thought i should tell you. i love you. thank you for being my comfort.
eight. you make me feel at ease just by existing.
nine. are you tired my love? hey hey, it’s okay. just relisten to this voicemail everytime you need to. you’re doing well, okay? and you’re so so strong. i’m sorry you have to go through this, and i’m sorry that the path to healing hurts this much, but it’ll get better okay? i’m so proud of you and all your efforts. hold on a little longer. i’m almost coming home.
ten. there’s so many things to smile about, but darling, you’re my favorite. i can’t wait to give you the biggest hug when i come home.
#enhypen x reader#k-labels#jake x reader#sim jake x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen jake fluff#enhypen jake x reader#sim jake x you#jake x you#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#jake drabbles#enhypen drabbles#enhypen blurbs#sim jake blurbs#sim jaeyun x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfic#enhypen oneshots
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A blurb on spencer with the audio thats like “I always thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” and it’s to reader? :))
love this !! and i don't care if it's such a cliche image, I'm not going to stop
Spencer jumps when you slide the balcony door open. Even with the serial killer caught, you're all still on edge, chilly in the Alaskan spring.
"Sorry, I hope you don't mind me interrupting." You step forward and close the door to stop any heat from the fire escaping inside.
"Not at all," Spencer assures you, smiling softly to encourage you forward.
You stand next to him, looking out over at the hill and evergreen trees, everything with a fresh dumping of snow on it. The sun's just setting even though it's not too far into the afternoon, the sky beginning to turn soft pink and orange.
"Things were getting a bit tense inside." You laugh at the very recent memory of some passionate arguing.
"Prentiss and Morgan?" Spencer guesses. You confirm with a nod. "Hotch should add Uno to the list of banned games."
You laugh at the rare joke from him. "We're not going to have anything left now that Monopoly, Clue, and all card games are banned."
"We'll have to all play chess." He decides, matching his enthusiasm with a grin.
"Then you'll have to sit out so it's fair." You remind him with a smirk.
He pouts at that, not the answer he was after. A comfortable silence falls between you as you watch the sky changing colors. It's really like nothing you've seen before, and it's a nice reminder that there's still beauty in the world.
"It's just wow." You say softly, in awe.
"The stars will be out soon," Spencer notes. "They should be incredible. It's meant to be clear and there's no light pollution here like there is in DC."
"You looked it up?" You wonder. It's sweet, really, and his interest seems to go beyond adding to his vast general knowledge.
He turns to you to nod. "I'm going to come out after dinner to watch them. I've never seen anything like this in the cities I've lived in, and we don't get many cases in such beautiful, remote places."
You hum with your own nod. "You're right. Or..." Your curiosity doesn't allow you to resist the opportunity to segue the conversation. "Many beautiful people, like the deputy that's into you."
You're trying to disguise it as teasing him, at least then you can play it off as being teammates and friends, and you're desperately hoping he doesn't notice that you're tense about his answer.
His nose scrunches slightly. Maybe disgust, maybe excitement. "I wasn't looking."
"Not your type?" You ask, slightly alarmed again. You do share some similar traits with her, so if she's not his type, your chances are slimmer.
"I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen." He says sincerely, knocking the wind out of your chest. "So, no, Y/n, I'm not looking at anyone."
You take longer than you should to get over your shock. "You're serious?"
"Sorry, sorry." He quickly apologizes as his cheeks heat up more than can be accounted for by the cold weather. "That was weird. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"No." You rest your hand over his, hoping to calm his spiraling worry. "You didn't... just thank you. That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
"It's true." He reiterates.
Your smile deepens. "Can I come stargazing with you?" You ask. "I promise I won't distract you."
"Looking like that? Impossible." He jokes, flirtier than you imagine. It's like your reciprocation spurs him on. "But I'd love company... your company, specifically. Inviting someone else would be weird."
You chuckle. "Just me and you."
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid blurb
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HIIIII! may i request for jing yuan teasing reader so much that they ended up kissing him??? and they’re still not in a relationship so pining and stuff 🥹
a/n: thank you for your request 🤍
no pronouns or gender described for reader.
⚝──⭒─ Jing Yuan ; tease ─⭒──⚝
.
.
The Xianzhou Luofu is a peaceful place. Under impressive calculation and insight, the ship was led with a steady hand that knew how to avoid meaningless bloodshed and keep your kind’s goal ever so close. To live miraculously, not needlessly.
But that’s not to say the general leading the ship was without his own faults and quirks.
Out of all the places you’ve traveled in the Xianzhou alliance, you find yourself most satisfied when you’re stationed on the Luofu. It’s peaceful here. The general, however, was an entirely different story.
You could name at least five different general’s in the alliance that were more professional and easier to handle than Jing Yuan. And there were only seven general’s total.
It’s not that he was a bad guy. No, that wasn’t it at all- you think rather highly of Jing Yuan and you trust his leadership and judgement. It’s just when it came to personal matters and your own relationship with him, it was… how do you put it into words?
A sudden wisp of air blows by your ear and you startle out of your thoughts, nearly falling out of your seat. But two hands steadily hold the back of your chair, a pair of lips smiling next to your ear. “Miss me, lieutenant?”
“Jing Yuan!” You snap your head back to look at your general, who looks a little too happy with your reaction. As always. With a hand moving up to your ear, you growl at him- “I told you to stop doing that!”
“But you startle so easily, lieutenant,” he bemoans, moving some of his weight onto the back of your chair and making you unsteady. “I’m only worried for you. You should always be on high alert, I’m merely helping you.”
“Blowing on my ear while I focus on paperwork that you should be doing isn’t helping,” you deadpan. He doesn’t look bothered by your attitude, just smiling along with a sigh.
“Hmm… maybe you’re right.”
This was the sort of relationship you had with him, which you could of never expected. Jing Yuan just loved to mess with you, finding you during his spare time and poking at all your buttons to rile you up. And it’s honestly not all that bad, just childish games, but…
But he was your superior, and… he’s Jing Yuan, someone that’s undeniably powerful and attractive. Having all his attention on you, looking at you like that- it’s just not fair. That’s why you tried to put your foot down several times, but he never quite listened to you.
Infuriating. He’s beautiful and infuriating and there’s really nothing you can do about it.
So your weeks are always hectic, despite the overall peace on the ship. One day, your general is calling you over to share lunch with him only to make you sit still while he feeds you portions of his food (you hated that, he stared at you so intensely the entire time and you still have no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve by that), and then the next he’s dragging his fingers across your back and making you shiver, and when you look back he’s got his hands at his sides and playing innocent.
But you know he’s anything but innocent. He’s playing with your heart at this point, and you just keep letting him.
Except now… now you might be losing it a little bit.
His games with you had been endless recently. You aren’t sure what made him wake up one morning and decide to mess with you nonstop, but you’re starting to lose sleep over it. The- the blowing in the ear? It wasn’t even the start of his nonsense.
He’d trip you while you walked just to catch you in his arms, he’d make you sit with him while he did paperwork and all he’d do is stare at you the whole time. He’s even started to call you loving names.
Maybe that was your limit. When he started calling you sweetheart, dear one, darling. That was just too cruel, teasing you with what you could never have. Giving you the picture of reciprocation and love that could never be.
You wanted to settle this matter diplomatically. Sit down with him, tell him you were uncomfortable, and you knew Jing Yuan would stop. His games were supposed to amuse (him, mostly, but still) and not hurt. If he knew you felt bent out of shape about it, he’d take a step back.
But then he just did it again before you could even start. Right when you approached him at his desk, his golden eye gleaming and he leaned forward with his arms on his desk, hands clasped together.
“Oh, there you are, dear. You know, I was just thinking about you.” He smiles at you in that way he does, when he says things he doesn’t mean.
You try. You try to stay civil. “General Jing Yuan, I just need you to know that-“
“General Jing Yuan?” He interrupts you completely, eyebrows flying up his forehead. “Using the full title huh? I thought we were closer than that, or maybe you’re really serious.” Getting up from his chair, he starts to round the desk.
You clench your fists at your sides. “General, I-“
“You really can’t use my name?” Jing Yuan fully rounds the desk, approaching you slowly with an amused expression on his face and hands behind his back. He still thinks this is a joke. “I know you can. Drop the title. Your general demands it, if that’s what it takes.”
“… Jing Yuan, I want you to know that-“
“Ah, there it is. My name’s never sounded sweeter,” he smiles gleefully, and once he’s in front of you, he chuckles. “Alright. Thank you for adhering to my request, lieutenant. What do you need?”
You stare at him. You stare and stare and stare, because words have escaped you and suddenly you’re just angry. Angry at him. Angry at yourself.
Angry about the fact you want him so bad.
And as an amazing tactician as Jing Yuan is, somehow he doesn’t realize you’re angry. He just leans into your space, that coy look still on his face as he tilts his head. “At a loss for words, lieutenant?” He asks. “You’re not falling for me, are you?”
That’s it. That’s it! He wants to play married couple? Fine. He gets the whole package deal, then.
In what could only be a moment of insanity, your hands raise to hold either side of his face, tilting his head so he’s at your height when you swoop in and kiss him. And oh, you put your everything into that kiss. All your weight, your energy, your anger. You can feel Jing Yuan’s body tense under your touch when you first put your lips on his, a muffled sound of surprise escaping his mouth before you swallow it up. Taking multiple steps closer to him until you have him against his own desks, his hands grasping onto the surface to keep himself steady as you kiss him full.
You only stop once you need a breath of air. And once the air comes in and reaches your brain, you realize all at once what a complete idiot you are. You just kissed your general. Your superior.
You kissed Jing Yuan, who’s looking at you with his eyes blown wide open and his chest heaving to take back all the air you stole right out from under him.
It’s almost funny. He’s always so composed- you’ve never seen him look like this before.
It serves him right.
“I want you to stop teasing me, Jing Yuan,” you finally muster the courage to speak, knowing that he’s listening to your every word now. He’s paying more attention to you than ever before. Your hands still holding the sides of his jaw, you take a deep breath and will yourself to step away, bringing your hands away from him as you give him a hard look. “Stop saying things that you don’t really mean.”
Because then I might just kiss you again.
Your general blinks once, as if to reset his point of view, and he grows lax against his desk. Looks at you in a way you can’t really describe. “That’s fair,” he rasps, clears his throat. A hand wandering up to his jaw and smoothing over the skin. “I won’t say things that I don’t mean.”
“…Good.” Nodding curtly, you move to turn on your heel, thoroughly mortified with yourself for having done such a thing before Jing Yuan speaks up again.
“Though, maybe we got off on the wrong foot… because I don’t ever recall saying something that I didn’t mean, lieutenant.”
You turn back to look at him slowly, your eyebrows furrowed. You almost want to get angry again, but can’t find it in you. “What?”
He merely huffs through his nose in amusement, familiar smile creeping on his lips. “I don’t mind repeating myself, but not unnecessarily. You know that.”
“But you-“ this can’t be right. He’s messing with you again, isn’t he? “But you call me those names, and make me eat your food, and stare at me, and-“ he’s approaching you now. “And you touch me, and-“
There’s no reason for Jing Yuan to go to such lengths and tease someone he didn’t care about. He likes to waste his time, yes, but he only does so because he plans ahead. He sees things before they come and plans for the outcome and sets it in motion before people even realize what’s happening. Before you realize what’s happening.
You’re in his arms, swept up under his gaze just like always as he leans in and surrounds you with him. Him, only him. Eating up all your attention just like always. You’ve played right into his hands. Maybe not the way he exactly expected, but the outcome was what he was aiming for all the same.
“You want me,” you whisper. This time it’s your voice that’s a little hoarse. And Jing Yuan just smiles at you, so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on your cheeks.
“Immensely, dear.”
It seems that even after all this time that you’ve been alive, chasing after destiny… you still have a lot to grasp,
Especially when it comes to Jing Yuan.
#reader insert#x reader#hsr x reader#hsr reader insert#hsr jing yuan x reader#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan#jingyuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan reader insert#hsr#honkai star rail
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