#my side profile is just C | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokisgoodgirl · 2 months

Text

Open Skies [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's first time flying the Quinjet is a memorable one. Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Silly things. Mutual pining. Oral (M). (w/c 2.2k)

Tony dangled the key between his thumb and forefinger. The fob swung in front of Loki’s smirking face. “To Virginia, and back again,” Tony said. He was not in the mood for games. Loki’s eyebrows shot up. He pressed his fingers to his chest in mock-hurt before extending the cup of his palm out, fingers unfolding with a graceful flourish. “I need to learn, Stark..." he postured innocently. “The simulations only go so far. You know that.”

“And you’ll behave?” Loki rolled his eyes. “What egregious sin could I possibly commit with your garish vessel while under the watchful eye of our trustworthy Agent here?” he said, flicking a finger towards you. “Is that not why she has been chosen for this farce? To keep me in line? To make sure I don’t damage this metal substitute for masculinity?” Tony’s eyes darted in an aborted eye-roll. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, observing Loki with suspicion. “It should only take you twenty minutes- if that,” he said, tossing the fob in the air. The god caught it. Loki let you walk ahead up the ramp. The weight of his stare clung to your ass like wet paint as you made your way to the front of the craft and slid into the passenger seat. He paused, giving both headrests a squeeze as he observed the screens. You watched his profile stiffen, a swallow working his neck. For all his breezy pomposity, he was nervous. “Just like the simulator,” you said, “you’ll be fine.” Loki's face remained unchanged by your re-assurance. He cleared his throat, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater; the one with the Avengers logo that he swore the first time he saw it that he would never wear.

He manoeuvred himself into the driver’s seat. “Is he watching?” he asked quietly. You pressed the screen, making the rear camera pop up. Tony stood below the under-hang of the landing area, arms folded. “Right..." Loki said, lips pursing.

He ran his palms down the tight chinos creased to his thighs. One long finger tentatively pressed against the central screen.

In a matter of seconds, the Quinjet’s engines fired to life. Loki flinched. His fingers flexed before their length curled around the lever sitting between you. He pushed it into elevate. "Thirty-five-thousand feet..." Loki murmured to himself, pressing a series of buttons on the screen.

He reached up, pressing an intercom above his head.

"This is Loki Laufeyson, Avengers Unit, Stark Tower," he said, gazing out the huge window at the skyscrapers.

His voice made goose-bumps ripple on your skin. It massaged over the syllables like crude oil over glass, thick and utterly erotic in its uniform sincerity. “Lifting off - flightpath expected from New York City to above Richmond, Virginia. No target, no landing. Training exercise, thirty-five thousand feet. Copy?”

He released the button. Static hummed. Loki’s fingers readjusted around the lever. “Copy, Mr Laufeyson." the radio crackled. "Clear for take-off. Route mapped. Any changes, let us know.”

Loki let out a small, satisfied sigh. He shot you a weak smile. “Good?” he asked. You nodded. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, delicate strands falling around his face. It framed his cheekbones perfectly. “Try not to be too aroused by my piloting-skills, Agent,” Loki goaded, turning his attention to the thrusters. “I have been practising very hard to make it seem effortless.” He pressed several more buttons without a pause.

You and Loki had hooked up for several weeks just before his most recent mission. But whether it was clarity during the absence, or simply lack of interest; when he had come back no moves were made on either side. On your part, it was simple terror. Being with Loki in that way was unbelievable the first time that it had happened, never mind the seventh, eighth, ninth. Part of you didn’t want to push your luck. It had crossed your mind that he had actually forgotten. And if that was true, then you didn’t want to know.

The force of the ascent pushed you back into your seat, facing forwards. Out the corner of your eye you saw a grin stretch over the god’s face as the New York skyline became mere dots below. He yanked the lever a few more times into position, setting it in cruise. The beep of buttons and the hum of the engines were the only sounds. Ahead, there was nothing but open skies. “Well done, I’m very impressed,” you said with a smile, shifting to face him. The seatbelt dug into your shoulder. Without realising, you had set a hand to rest on his thigh. The two of you looked at it, eyes rising to meet. One of Loki’s brows cocked. “Agent?” he growled. “Are you trying to seduce the captain?”

You were about to deny it. But he was the god of lies, after all. In which case there was no getting around it. And even if there was – did you want to? “Yes.” you said. Loki barked a small laugh of disbelief, turning his eyes back to the wide windows. “It will take more than that, Agent.” he said, offering a small nod to the hand resting mid-way up his thigh. “Especially after giving me the cold-shoulder on my return.” Your stomach dropped. “I did no such thing-” you started, but Loki had begun to tut. It’s slow methodical click ticked over the air between you. His eyes never left the blue sky out the front of the Quinjet. “On the contrary. On my return, I came to your rooms. I left a note, and quite a suggestive one at that. I made myself quite vulnerable, actually.” You frowned. “Loki, I moved rooms like three weeks ago.” Loki pressed a finger to his forehead. “Who’s in your old one?” “Scott.” “Ah,” Loki said, grimacing. “I was wondering why he had been particularly familiar of late.” The god shot you a sheepish smile. “I may have gone into great detail about oral sex in my correspondence.” “Giving or Receiving?” “Receiving.” The two of your burst into raucous laughter.

Loki took his hands from the steering wheel, wiping a tear of mirth. “In defence of my uncouth written request, you do give the most glorious blowjobs,” he muttered, offering a tilt of his head. “And it was a very long mission. I was in desperate need of attention.” “Did you ever get it?” “No. Although in hindsight, Lang did attempt to ease my disposition.”

You and Loki exchanged a restrained smirk before bursting into laughter again. “I feel terrible,” you said, starting to feel giddy. “I thought you weren’t into me anymore, so I just…” “Gave up without a fight?” Loki said, pressing a button and shifting the stick. “Understandable. I am rather intimidating.”

Your hand began to dance up his thigh, following the rise of his insane quad muscle. You squeezed. The fingers slid inward, brushing the growing bulge in his crotch. Loki shifted in his seat, chinos rustling. “Agent…” he warned. But his eyes sparkled.

The god’s legs widened in the generous seat. Creases ran thick across his spread thighs, the outline of his cock stark against the light fabric. It stretched up to his hip by the side of the zipper. You bit your lip as he thrust gently into your cupped hand. “We shouldn’t…” you said, tracing the length of his cock with one light finger. “No,” Loki breathed. “But we will.” The click of your seatbelt and the resulting flurry of your fingers at his buttons was instant. Loki raised one arm to let you work, lowering the tight zipper and setting his cock free with a bounce into your waiting hand. “Fuck,” he choked through ragged breaths, “Agent you don’t have to-” You looked up at him, head pressed back against the rest and the veins in his throat tightening. He had that stoic, regal set upon his features, cheekbones hard and unwavering, mouth closed as he stared at your with hungry eyes. The only thing that gave him away was the sound of small puffs of air flaring in rapid succession from his nostrils. Without looking, you could tell his knuckles were white on the wheel. One of his forearms rested on the nape of your neck.

“If you don’t think I want to suck your cock, Laufeyson,” you whispered, pausing to place a kiss on the leaking tip, “then you’re even crazier than I thought.” Loki inhaled sharply as you swallowed him. The breath caught in his throat, forcing its way back through a series of stuttering breaks that made desire thrash deep in your cunt. Fingers wrapped around the base of him, you worked slowly back and forth until his manhood was slippery with spit. Your face lowered on to the bottom of Loki’s sweatshirt with every dip of your head. Sucking wet and hot as the vein that ran the length of his cock throbbed against your tongue. There it was, that sweet saltiness pearling at the cracked creases of your lips. God, how you’d missed that. The taste of him. There was nothing like it.

Loki’s placid moans filled the cockpit. It was polite, in a way. Gentlemanly, while his slender fingers grasped delicately against your hair. You lingered at the crown, running your tongue against the sensitive underside.

Loki jolted in his seat. The Quinjet took a dive, and you froze - cushioning his glory with your tongue as the god corrected the flightpath. He chuckled, hissing as you tightened the grip of the fingers around his root and began to pump in time with your mouth. “We’ve reached-uh...g-gods, Richmond,” he stammered. His fingers grasped at your hair, knees beginning to tremble. “I’m carrying out a soft turn, bringing us one hundred and sixty degrees before returning to the original..f..f-fuckk-flightpath.” Humming approval through a mouthful of his cock, you lost yourself in the warm musk of his public hair. The metal zipper caught against your chin, grazing with every deep dive of the god into your throat. But you didn’t care. Loki’s gentle whines were all you could hear over the engines, panting praises and murmurs of lustful promises that you would hold him to when this thing landed. If it landed.

“Gods-” Loki choked, punctuated with a thump as his skull fell against the headrest. "How can you do this to me, Agent?” he gasped, rubbing your back as you quickened the pace. “You’re the best…” he moaned, hips rising to meet the bob of your jaw, “you’re the b-best I’ve ever had..I- uhh...”

The god’s fingertips dragged down your back, fist clenching and unfurling. He let out a primal grumble. “I’m going to cum, darling-” he growled. “Has anything c-changed?” You shook your head, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth and pooling in a wet patch on his chinos. Swallowing all the spit you could, you pressed your lips tighter around his girth, sucking furiously. Loki flinched with pleasure; and although you couldn’t see him, you knew his eyes were rolling back. You’d bet a few more of those slutty little curls had come loose too. Loki’s bucks were quicker now. He was trying to be restrained, but still his hips shuddered against the seat trying not to fuck your mouth with all his might. The Quinjet thrashed to the side, immediately correcting.

The god’s breaths were heavy, unintelligible filth falling from his lips and slithering into your ear as you worked him. "Good girl," he gasped, palm flying to the window my his side, "oh, f-fuck yes...good girl-vakker... just like, u-uh-" His palm slid down the window with an obscene squeak.

With a curse-littered groan, both of his arms went flying up behind the headrest. He pulled it forwards, the force of his abdomen’s clench pressing against your forehead. Loki’s hot cum hit the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the sweet tang you craved. It kept coming, spreading into every pocket of space not occupied by his meat. His groans of pleasure filled the cockpit while you swallowed - pretty little moans snaking from his throat as he rode higher than the clouds.

Your lips left the tip of his flushed member with a slurp. Loki looked at you, dazed and slut-drunk. His seed glistened at the corners of your mouth as you squeezed his cock from the base a final time. A thick ream of cum blossomed at the opening. With one finger, you scooped it off, placing it carefully on the tip of your tongue.

“How I’ve missed you,” Loki slurred before his mouth was on yours.

You could feel his tongue search your own, tasting himself on each caress, swallowing the mess that you had made of him. Breaking apart, you took a moment to appreciate just how fucked-out Loki looked. The god’s cheeks were flushed, his lips raw and pink from rough kisses; his tied-up hair was askew, one side falling down in inky tendrils across his shoulder. The sweatshirt was rumpled, and there was a spreading wet patch on those lovely cream chinos. “How long do we have?” you asked, realising that you probably didn’t look much better. Loki’s eyes flickered to the screen. “Three minutes.” he said, disappointed. As Loki nailed a perfect landing, you made a final check of yourself in the window’s reflection. His knuckles trailed gently down your bicep. “I’ll see you inside?” he asked quietly. His pupils were still bottomless pools. “At your rooms,” you smiled, fighting to contain a laugh. “Not Scott’s.” Loki nodded agreement, lips curling. “I really did wait, you know.” he said. “I know.” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The two of you disembarked and Tony was waiting for the debrief exactly where you'd left him. He seemed happy with everything, by and large. But his arms remained folded. You began to make your way into the Tower. “Laufeyson. A word.” Tony barked. Loki rolled his eyes, subtly gesturing for you to go on ahead. “How’d you like her then? State of the art?” Stark hummed, gesturing to the Quinjet. Loki raised a brow. “It was perfectly fine.” Loki said. “Not ‘the best you’ve ever had’?” Tony slipped his sunglasses down his nose. Loki’s brow furrowed. “Cameras?” “Cameras,” Tony replied, tossing Loki the key-fob. “I’ll delete my evidence if you hop on back and delete your evidence with some of that magic-bleach. Deal?” “Deal.” Loki sighed.

Tags (cont in comments) @lokischambermaid @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x female reader #lokismut #loki gifs #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki odison x reader

840 notes · View notes

msgexymunson · 10 months

Text

Treasure

Description: watching the latest Mad Max film has you discovering something new about Eddie and his kinks

A/N: just a smutty blurb I came up with when I watched that film last night! Ignore the timeline, just pretend Fury Road came out in the 80s. Please reblog if you like my work, I'll love you forever, promise.

Warnings: AFAB reader, NSFW, minors DNI, subby Eddie, breeding kink, p in v unprotected sex (reader on b/c)

2k words

Masterlist

The new Mad Max film blares its opening titles, echoing off of the tinny walls of the trailer. The lights are all off; darkness had fallen outside some time ago, so the only light came from the flickering blue glare of the TV.

There was barely enough room to sit side by side on the narrow bed, so you sat between Eddie's spread legs, your back flush with his chest, cuddled in a swaddling embrace. You'd only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but the comfort of having his arms around you in such a natural way made you feel safe.

"I've been looking forward to watching this, took a lot not to watch it before you came around." He admits, hand reaching up to stroke your face briefly.

"Well, aren't I lucky."

"Damn straight."

You laugh, grabbing his hand and wrapping it back around your torso, settling down to watch the movie.

Losing yourself in the film, you focus on the characters, the chases, the struggles. Then you notice Eddie's hand has drifted to your thigh. Your eyes roll upwards, he's usually handsy with you when you're trying to watch TV so this is not surprising. What is surprising is the nature of his movements. They seem compulsive, thumb rubbing back and forth as if he's not aware he's doing it. Staring at his hand, you see it's trembling slightly.

You cup his hand with yours and he stops immediately.

"You alright there baby? Are the girls that hot?" You quip, amusement in your voice.

"Oh, no, not at all!" He shakes his head, a few strands grazing your cheek. "They're pretty, sure, not a patch on you." He responds, kissing your temple. The reply is so forthright and honest, like everything else he says to you. It's definitely the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't even be jealous if it was the girls that got him worked up. You know he's yours.

Settling back down, you continue watching, but curiosity is chewing on your brain. It's fuelled even further by a very familiar bulge that's now digging into the small of your back.

It's only when you hear the character on screen saying 'his treasures, his prize breeders' and Eddie's hand grips your thigh hard, that you put two and two together. He tries to disguise it as a cough, but the damage is done.

You tilt your head back a little so you can take in his profile. For once, Eddie looks nervous. His cheeks are flushed, eyes as wide as a bush baby, nibbling on his lip neurotically. He's never looked so flustered.

The devil on your shoulder is whispering an idea in your brain that you can't ignore. Seeing him so worked up is doing something to you, blood travelling in between your legs.

Softly, so he barely notices at first, you run your hands up and down his thighs. Gentle caresses, back and forth, until you feel him hum in his chest, melting slightly. He's relaxing beneath you. Your nails join in, dragging across the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

"Eddie, am I your treasure?" You ask sweetly, voice as innocent as you can muster.

"Of- of course, baby." He responds, a quiver in his voice, tensing up again at your words.

"Is that what you want? For me to be your treasure?" You ask, pressing your back against him harder, beginning to gently grind on his bulge.

"Wha-what do you m-mean?"

He staggers it out, his usual cadence gone. It's high pitched, almost whiny. This is going well out of your usual territory; it wasn't uncommon for Eddie to be pulling whimpers out of you, not the other way around.

You have to say it, to take the leap.

Leaning to whisper right in his ear, you decide to just come out with it.

"Do you want to breed me Eddie?"

His eyes widen even further, mouth falling open. You continue to grind against him, your hands tracing higher up his thighs.

"Is that it baby? You wanna fuck me raw, fill me up?"

The noise he makes is alien to you. It's high, quivering and desperate. His breathing has quickened, hands coming to rest shakily on yours.

Pulling them off you gently, you reach for the remote and pause the movie. Then, you swivel around so you can straddle him, throbbing heat pressed against his rock hard length.

"Eddie, answer me." You say quietly, but firmly. His hands rest on your hips, anxiously rubbing the skin under your shirt. His shirt, the old one you'd stolen weeks ago.

"I- I, erm, yeah, I mean, fuck" He stutters, losing control as you massage his length with each roll of your hips, only your panties and his sweats in the way of absolute pleasure.

You grasp his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

"Eddie. Words."

"I mean, yeah." His voice is smaller than you've ever heard. Then, it all rushes out of his mouth in a jumble.

"But I, I don't mean I want to like, have kids right now or something it's just-"

"You like the fantasy."

He nods so hard and fast it's almost comical. The puppy dog look he's giving you is so soft and you don't want to hurt his feelings, so you swallow your laugh.

"You know, I was gonna mention earlier…" you start as you run a hand through the front of his hair, nails dragging on his scalp slightly, his eyes rolling back at the gesture.

"What sweetheart?" He all but whispers, his head rolling in tandem with your ministrations.

"I'm on the pill now."

His eyes snap back open, bugging out of his head almost. A laugh escapes then, you can't help it. It's a girlish giggle, which turns into a dirty smirk.

Grinding against him harder, hand coming to rest on his chest, a moan sounds low inside you, echoing from deep within. The friction is good, making you wet, but it's not enough.

You need him. Now.

"So, you wanna fill me up? You can cum inside me, as many times as you want."

"You'll let me?" He looks shocked.

"Oh please, sweets, please."

His grip on your hips is harder now, fingers tight on your flesh.

He all but sulks when you climb off him, pouting his bottom lip like a child. It's not for long though, as you shimmy out of your panties, discarding them somewhere on the floor. You pull his sweats off and away swiftly, to join the mire of mess on his carpet.

Hovering back over him, you circle the tip of his leaking cock. It's teasing, you know, but he looks so flustered and sweaty and desperate.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt, "please?"

The question takes you back. You're not used to being in control, the thrill of it tingles through your nerves. You pull the top off very slowly, finally releasing your breasts. Eddie groans in his throat at the sight.

As you sink down on him, you press your mouth on his, collecting his moans in your throat. Your pussy swallows him up, sucking him in greedily. You do the same with your tongue, fervently licking into him, heating up your mouth, your skin, your cunt.

The room is soon filled with the sound of your slapping skin, your nails leaving red crescents into his shoulders.

"Fuck, you feel so amazing. Go- go a bit slower, please." You comply, rocking into him, his swollen length jotting against your g spot with each pass.

Leaning towards him, you let your lips brush against his ear, hot breath fanning against the shell of it.

"This what you wanted baby, hmm? To feel everything…" Letting the word linger, you push against him harder, fingers winding into his hair.

"Yeah, oh yes- fuck"

"Yeah? You wanna cum inside me? Stuff me full of your cum? You want little Munsons running around the place, hmm?"

He whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers.

You pull on the lock of hair you've twisted in your grip, making his noises even more strangled.

"Baby, oh my God, please, can I get on top?"

"Of course, your treasure will do anything for you" you smirk.

"Fuck!"

He pushes you down then, flipping you onto the mattress as he fucks into you intensely, hand coming to your clit to rub tight circles. Even in his state he still wants you to come first.

The coil in your stomach that has been tightening slowly speeds up at his touch, warming through your body, tingles reaching right to your fingers and toes. The heat is outstanding, buzzing between you both. Your insides are fluttering as you dig heels into his bare ass, forcing him as close as he can get, needing more, more.

"Please come, Jesus Christ, I need it, I need it. Come so I can, please!"

Its babble, spewing from his lips in urgent bubbles of sound. The subby neediness of it is what pushes you over that edge, clenching hard around his thick member, squeezing him to within an inch of his life. You scream out your release, throaty and rough, gripping his biceps tightly.

"Oh my God sweets, fuck!"

The feeling must be just as intense for him. You push him further, knowing he wants it.

"Eddie, please cum inside me, I need your cum, I wanna feel it, fuckin' breed me Eddie."

That was it, that pushed him over the edge; the word 'breed'. He releases deep inside, crying out your name so loudly you're sure the neighbours are going to complain. He's throbbing inside, still coming, and coming. Finally, it stops and he goes limp, slipping out of you. You accept his weight, holding him to you closely.

A cold, wet feeling on your chest takes you by surprise. Looking down you see that Eddie is crying. Not hard, just little, hiccupping sobs that make your heart swell.

"Shh, it's OK baby, it's OK." Attempting to placate him, your fingers run through his hair trying to soothe him.

The whimpering stops and he looks at you, eyes almost shameful.

"I'm so sorry that was pathetic, honestly-"

"Baby, I ain't judging." Flashing him a soft smile.

"I just never came that hard. Ever."

Your chest swells with pride but you jolt as you feel his fingers on your soaking heat.

"Baby what are you doing?"

"Keeping my cum inside you."

Giggles explode out of you, slapping his arm. He doesn't stop, fingers hard against your cunt.

"That was really fucking hot. I should let you take charge more often."

"Let me? Seems I took charge all on my own."

"And I thank you for it." He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

He hesitates, fingers still harsh on your cunt.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" You stare down at him, confused.

His voice drops down an octave, eyes flashing menace.

"That I can cum in you, as much as I want?"

Biting your lip, you nod.

"Fill me up Eddie."

"Fuuuck" He huffs, biting down on the soft skin of your breast, "give me five minutes and I'm gonna rock your world."

Giggles are replaced by moans when he shoves two fingers inside your soaking cunt.

Seems you've unlocked a new kink of his. You smile, happy to be his treasure.

Taglist (I'm just tagging some likely candidates ;)

@munson-blurbs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @emsgoodthinkin @names-were-taken @joejoequinnquinn @zestychili @lunatictardis @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @corrodedcoffincumslut @unfocused81 @liminalpebble @truffleshuffle12 @bookshelf-dust

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #sub!eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson #sub!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson breeding #eddie munson breeding kink

2K notes · View notes

sailorholly · 9 months

Text

Stressed

Summary: Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist here

“Who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t make another pot?” Spencer propped up on his cane, asked the crowded police station. One of the officers set his mug down beside the case files spread on the table before him.

“I did. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t think that anyone else would want coffee, when we have barely had three hours of sleep?” The officer looked stunned, obviously caught off guard by the grumpy FBI agent.

“Kid, like I said, I’m sorry.” Spencer limped over to an empty chair, taking a seat. “Don’t call me kid. It’s Dr. Reid to you.” Hotch shot him a warning glance. “Reid.” Spencer dropped his gaze. The officer put his hands up in defeat, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

You wait until the room clears before going over to Spencer. You walk slowly as if you were approaching a wounded animal. “I started a fresh pot just for you. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s finished.” You smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

You can tell he’s still upset. He has been moody for a few weeks. Even though you all had agreed not to profile each other, the team had been taking guesses about what was wrong. You still didn’t have an answer. Hotch tried to speak with him privately, but he wouldn’t open up.

At the end of the day, everyone was glad to be back at the hotel. It wasn’t like the comfort of your homes, but at least it was a place to lay your head down. You all had been running on fumes.

You took a shower, thinking of every detail of the abduction. Something didn’t make sense to you, and you couldn’t get your mind off it. You dried your hair, deciding to knock on Spencer’s door to talk through it.

If anyone could help you figure it out, it was him. He answers the door, looking grouchier than before. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He snaps. You take in his attire. He’s wearing a cardigan over his button up and dress pants, the same outfit he had on earlier.

You frown, pushing your way into his room. “Since when did you start sleeping in your work clothes?” He closes the door, gripping his cane as he walks toward you sitting on his bed. He sits beside you, keeping his distance.

“You’ve been a real asshole lately, Spencer. It’s so unlike you. Is there anything you want to talk about?” He looks away, avoiding your face. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you. I’d love to help you, especially if it gets you out of this bad mood.”

You watch as he considers your words. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He asks quietly. You place a hand on your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” The faintest of smiles appears, the first one you’ve seen in a while.

“Now spill.” He sighs. “I am unbelievably stressed. My mom is on a new medication, and she’s giving her doctors a hard time. I got a new neighbor and he plays loud music late at night. I’ve asked him to stop, and he does for a while. Until I go on a case, when I get back, he’s started again. And I’ve been getting these headaches that won’t go away.”

He rubs his left eye, shoulders sinking in relief after he confessed. “Well, all those are valid reasons to be stressed. You really need to get laid.” You giggle, elbowing his side. “I’ve tried.” You stop laughing. You weren’t expecting a sincere answer. You were only joking.

“Wait, you’ve tried to have sex, but can’t find a partner?” You ask, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think it’s my awkwardness paired with the cane. It freaks them out. They probably think I’m an unsub.” He pushes his hair behind his ear.

“I like the cane.” You admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! I think it’s sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but couldn’t you just take care of yourself?” You wince. You were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your favorite coworker.

“I tried that. But I couldn’t finish. My mind would race with a million thoughts. It kills the mood.” You lower yourself to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. “Wha.. what are you doing?” Spencer asks nervously, his voice raising.

“Helping.” You state matter of factly. You unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down. You’re careful when you tug his pants and underwear down his legs, going slowly so you don’t hurt him. He takes a deep breath when you wrap both hands around his hard cock.

You lower your head toward his lap, taking him between your lips. You suck slowly, waiting for his reaction. He lets out a shaky breath when you take him to the back of your throat. You suck harder now, saliva dripping down your chin.

Spencer watches you intently. He can’t believe this is happening. All the nights he had laid in bed, imagining this exact scenario as he pleasured himself. His biggest fantasy was playing out before him. He grips the white comforter on the bed with one hand, the other holds your head in place as you bob up and down on him.

This was too much. He was going to come, and he hadn’t seen you naked yet. “Come up here, I want to touch you.” He sounds almost like he’s begging. You release him, standing to remove your clothing. “Take everything off.” You command as your panties hit the floor.

He wastes no time, throwing his cardigan and shirt beside your discarded clothes. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt. You didn’t know how he managed to get it off. “Lay back against the pillows.” He scoots until his back hits the cushiony wall. You climb on top of him, legs positioned around his hips.

You start grinding against him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. He tilts his head back, greasy curls splayed out on the pillows. You pepper kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, while large hands cup your breasts.

He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more turned on. “I want you to sit on my face.” You notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks as he said the words. “You sure?” He nods his head, confirming. “I want to taste you.”

You place your thighs on either side of his head. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to where you need him the most. His curious tongue meets your center, collecting your arousal and bringing it to your clit. He moans, the sound vibrating against you. You clamp your legs tighter around his ears, letting him devour you.

His tongue swirls around you expertly. He could be writing in Morse Code for all you know. You reach for the headboard when his lips wrap around your most sensitive spot. The suction and heat of his mouth tip you over the edge. You reluctantly remove yourself from him, still feeling needy.

“I need you inside of me.” You kiss above his belly button and his cock twitches. “I can’t get on top because of my leg.” He points to the offending appendage like you had forgotten about it. You beam at him, as you you straddle him once more. “I got this.” You line yourself up with his hard length, sinking down on him.

He gasps when he fills you all the way. You move yourself on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. You rock your hips back and forth, letting your head tip back when he brushes your g-spot. You call his name, tilting your hips so he hits it again.

“You like that?” Spencer asks, gripping your hips, working your body with his. You feel the pressure building inside you. It’s unbelievable. You’re lucky if you get off once during sex, and your second orgasm is quickly approaching. Spencer feels you clenching around him.

“Already?” He is in complete awe of you. You were even better than he imagined. “Oh God, Spencer! I’m so close.” His hands hold you harder. He sits up, pressing his chest flush against yours. Your peaked nipples rub against his chest, adding fuel to the flames.

He removes a hand from your waist, bringing it down between you. The pad of his thumb drags across your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. He looks down at where you’re joined, admiring the view. “You’re taking me so well, Angel.” He swirls fast circles against you, and your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

Spencer watches as you come undone. He follows closely behind you, a string of curses leaving his lips. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. “I need to be in a bad mood more often.” Spencer thinks out loud, his lips curling upward into a smile.

Tagging some people I think would like this.

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lamentis-10 @megharat-barnes @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid

2K notes · View notes

augustslippedavvay · 2 years

Text

like real people do (eddie munson)

summary: you’ve known eddie for a few months now, but nearly every day you discover something new about him that breaks your heart and makes you desperate for him to know how much you care for him.

author’s note: eddie deserves soft and sweet and gentle love he deserves to be held and to feel loved and to be cared for and to know a life outside of the cruel world he was born into and i intend to give that to him one ~1.5k word fic at a time

pairing: eddie munson x reader (this one is gender neutral - no gendered terms used!!) word count: 1.4k warnings: hmmmmmm none

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

The two of you have been lounging in bed in his shoebox studio apartment all afternoon, passing a couple of blunts back and forth and shooting the shit. You had curled up onto your side, facing him, only twenty minutes ago, and haven’t shifted since, transfixed by the way his profile – his beautiful, beautiful profile – moves, the way his smile reaches his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple dips, as he talks. Talks about music, and movies, and maybe going to the lake for the weekend, or to the city to check out a new record shop one of his buddies had told him about, and he doesn’t give you the chance to interject, but it’s alright, because he’s so pretty, and you think you’re starting to fall in love with him. So you’re alright with listening to him talk.

“What were you like in high school?”

Eddie turns to face you, a slow smile spreading across his face. His hair tickles your nose, fanned across the pillow beneath the both of you, and you edge your face just that much closer to his.

“You wanna know?”

You nod and he hums, shifting onto his side, bringing one hand up and underneath his cheek to prop his head up. It’s easier for him to look at you this way.

“I…I used to, um…”

You look at Eddie expectantly as he trails off, his chest stuttering on an inhale, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Do you know what Dungeons & Dragons is?”

There’s a moment’s pause before you start giggling. Hurt flashes across Eddie’s face and you put a hand onto his chest, shaking your head as he asks, “What? What’s so funny?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you laugh, “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just – I used to play D&D in high school, too.”

“What?!” Eddie sits up abruptly, your hand falling from his chest onto the bed. You roll onto your back so you can look up at him and nod. He prods your side and you giggle, smacking his hand. “You what? How has this never come up before?”

You shrug, hiding your sheepish face behind the palms of your hands. “Didn’t want you to think I was a nerd.”

“Baby,” Eddie whines and pries your hands back from your face. “I like nerds!”

“I know that now!”

“We’re discussing this later. You played a rogue, didn’t you? Or maybe a ranger. You little sneak.”

You grin and he snaps. “Fucking knew it. I know my baby. Remind me to circle back to this.”

Eddie laughs and you join back in, the two of you giggling like children. Eddie falls back down onto the bed beside you, curling onto his side and laughing into your neck, before he palms your cheek and turns you to face him again, your body following your head, your mouths inches apart. Your stomach aches in the best way and you pant against his lips, his eyes trained on you.

“No, but seriously,” you breathe, carding your fingers gently through his hair. He leans forward and kisses the end of your nose. “What were you like? Wanna know.”

Eddie shrugs. “I was a nerd. An outcast. A freak, or whatever. I played D&D and listened to loud music and lived in the trailer park on the edge of town with my uncle, so people thought I was plotting to kill them and unleash the power of Satan unto Hawkins. Which, for the record, I was.”

You laugh, but you can tell that he’s deflecting because the subject is painful for him, uncomfortable. You run your thumb over his cheek and smile when he sighs against your mouth.

“I don’t know. I was just some guy, you know?”

You shake your head in disbelief. Some guy. “I would’ve had the biggest crush on you, you loser.”

Eddie’s mouth gapes slightly, the apples of his cheeks rosing. “What? What do you mean?”

“Okay, well, first of all: you’re a total fucking smoke show.”

This invokes a guttural reaction from him that you think might be a combination of Eddie’s versions of embarrassment and desire.

“You listen to all of my favorite bands. You play Dungeons & Dragons, apparently. Those stupid rings you wear, and that vest you cut up and put patches all over –”

“You think my rings are stupid?”

“Munson,” you huff, smacking him playfully, no heart behind it, on the chest. “I would’ve been so hopelessly in love with you.”

“Yeah?” The sound of his voice tells you this is perking him up.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip, running your fingers along the bare skin that’s peeking out from under his tee shirt where it’s ridden up. “You would have looked at me from across the cafeteria and I would have melted into a puddle right on the floor. Like, if we had any classes together and you ever asked me to borrow a pencil? Or if you had a question about the homework? I’d have been done for. I mean, I don’t think I ever would’ve done anything about it…but I would’ve crushed on you so goddamn hard.”

Eddie has this giant, giddy grin on his face, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss or smother it from his face. “Why wouldn’t you have done anything about it?”

“I was a loser, too, Eddie,” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks. “People thought I was a freak. We would’ve been the same brand of freak, sure, but I didn’t have any courage in high school. I never would have thought about asking you out, because I would have assumed you’d turn me down.”

He considers this for a second. “I wouldn’t have turned you down.”

“Once again, I know that now, duh.”

Eddie has one hand on your neck, his thumb stroking the length of your jaw. He watches your face for a second, then murmurs, “Do you think we would have been friends?”

“Maybe?”

“Why only maybe?”

“I dunno,” you whisper. “You’re so…outgoing. And I’m a lot different now than I was in high school, but I was so shy.”

“That’s cute,” he says, surveying you with pursed lips, and you roll your eyes. “Well, you’d have been in Hellfire, right? In this hypothetical scenario where we went to high school together. That was the D&D club at Hawkins. You’d have joined?”

“God, if you were Dungeon Master, Eddie, I’d have…I don’t think I ever would have been able to pay attention. You would have…”

Eddie laughs at you as you trail off, running his hand your side down to squeeze your hip. “Yeah? You’d have had a crush on your Dungeon Master, is that it?”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t tell him he’s wrong.

“That’s frowned upon, you know,” he jokes, cupping the back of your thigh and pulling it up and over his.

“That’s why you wouldn’t have known!”

Eddie smirks at you, something unspoken passing between the two of you, and you know that no matter whether you’d said anything or not, he would have known. He’s been able to read you from the jump - from the moment you’ve met, there’s never been anything that you’ve felt that he hasn’t picked up on.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, now. I’m sorry high school sucked for you, baby.”

Eddie shrugs again, but you shake your head and tuck yourself into him, push one hand underneath his torso so he has to shift closer to you, too. He lays his head against your chest and lets you start to run your fingers through his hair.

“It sounds like none of those people really knew you. That’s what it sounds like to me.”

Again, you get nonchalance in response. You worry you’re about to cross a line, to overstep some unspoken boundary - you have only been seeing one another a couple of months, after all – but you feel Eddie squeeze you tighter when you try to pull back even a little bit.

“You’re allowed to be mad about it, Eddie. At the people who made everything miserable for you.”

“It wasn’t all miserable,” he murmurs into your neck.

“No?”

“No.” Eddie sighs. “I had the Hellfire Club. And my band. And my uncle.”

“Tell me about them, then.”

He grins against the skin of your neck, and you close your eyes as he starts to tell you about all of the reasons he would have stayed in Hawkins. You can’t help but feel glad he decided to get out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot

4K notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 10 months

Text

MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

734 notes · View notes

gamergirl929 · 2 months

Text

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

A reunion of childhood best friends would typically be a jubilant affair, but not in this case. No, because you were about to reunite with none other than Alex Morgan, the woman who left you behind when you were kids, the woman who'd broken not only your heart but your spirit as well.

I really want to thank @kingofmyheart-19, without them I doubt this fic would have gotten done, they helped so much and listened to my ranting on plot ideas and gave me some of their own, so thank you so, so much for the help, it was SO appreciated! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ They're also a writer as well, so feel free to go check out their page!

Disclaimer: This fic could be very triggering to some, it deals with abuse, speicifically child abuse, so if that's going to trigger you PLEASE skip this one. If you're still here, get ready for a 9K emotional roller coaster. As always, I'd really love to hear what you all think, this has been a fic I've been wanting to write for so long and I'm so happy it's done, so please, let me know what you think.

⚠️Trigger Warning: Child Abuse/Mentions of Child Abuse ⚠️

You closed your eyes, practicing the deep breathing you learned in therapy before your eyes open, the stadium where you would meet the USWNT looming overhead.

You knew you would see her, that you would have to see her, you were now working for her team after all, but the thought of your reunion made your stomach twist.

You could feel your chest tighten, a panic attack looming as you thought about your Y/E/C orbs meeting hers.

You wondered if they were still the same bright blues you remembered.

You shake your head rapidly, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.

Just because you were about to see each other again after so long, didn’t mean things were the same as they once were, she’d left you behind, and you didn’t think you could ever forgive her for that.

You didn’t know if you could ever forgive Alex Morgan for what she did, in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

With one final deep breath you slip out of your rental car and make your way towards the arena, mere minutes from reuniting with the woman that broke your heart.

************************************************************************

If there was one thing Alex Morgan didn’t expect, it was to see you making your way across the field towards her and the team, Emma Hayes at your side.

Her throat bobbed as she took you in.

You’d gotten taller, easily towering over her.

Your jawline was much sharper, and visibly clenched, something she used to get on you about when you were growing up.

The second your eyes met hers, her heart stalled in her chest, the Y/E/C orbs that would once soften when they locked with her blues, were now cold and sharp.

“Y/N...” Alex whispers when you’re in earshot and you glance her way.

“Do I know you?” You ask, a harshness to your tone that takes her aback, she’d never heard you speak that way, especially to her.

Her mouth opens and closes rapidly, the woman searching for anything at all to say, but it’s as if her vocal cords had stopped working.

Her teammates eye her curiously, their eyes darting between the two of you.

“Well, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s going to be our new trainer, she comes HIGHLY recommended, so try to make her feel welcome, okay?” Emma smiles, in no way missing the way Alex stares pleadingly at your profile.

Eventually, your eyes catch hers, her orbs the same bright blues that you often found yourself getting lost in years ago.

Alex isn’t able to utter a single word before you’re turning on your heels and moving towards the sidelines, Emma Hayes in toe.

Alex jumps when a hand settles on her back, a hand belonging to her longtime friend, Kelley O’Hara.

“Are you okay Al? Is something wrong?” She asks, able to read the woman’s face easily, picking up on the fact that she was incredibly upset.

“Ye-Yeah.” Alex stammers, her blues orbs burning holes in your back as you move out of sight.

“Everything is fine.”

**********************************************************************

The second Alex saw you, all the emotions she tried so, so hard to bury came rushing back, hitting her like a tidal wave.

She wasn’t prepared for the way you looked at her, your eyes hard and icy, a look she vaguely remembered when she spotted you in the hallways of your high school, your books hugged to your chest and a new bruise gracing your face or your arms, the woman knowing full well that more bruises were hidden beneath your clothes.

She knew deep down she deserved it; she severed ties with you when you needed her the most, and she could never wash away the guilt she felt every time you passed her in the hallway, your face twisted in a pained grimace.

That night, she stares at the ceiling, her blue orbs glassy as she remembers the first time, she saw signs of the abuse you were enduring at home.

***********************************************************************

“What are those from?” A small Alex Morgan asks as she points to the circular marks dotting your forearm, the skin a bright and angry red, the wounds fresh.

You shake your head rapidly, pulling your arm away from her.

“N-N-Nothing.” You mumble, the girl scoffing as she gently takes your arm, her blue orbs zeroing in on the sores covering your arm.

“What happened?” She asks and you shake your head, tears glistening in your Y/E/C orbs.

“Y/N...” She whispers, gently rubbing your arm, careful not to touch the marks.

“You can tell me anything...” She says, frowning when she sees a tear streaming down your cheek.

“What happened?” She asks again and you swallow, your mouth opening and closing before you croak out a single word.

“Dad.”

**********************************************************************

Needless to say, Alex didn’t sleep well that night, her mind racing, wondering if the wounds on your arm had increased in number.

She honestly wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

Eventually, Alex dragged herself onto the bus that morning, her blue orbs immediately finding your Y/E/C’s.

You almost immediately turn away, as if you’re unable to look at her for too long.

She pauses, attempting to find something, anything to say to you, but again, she finds herself unable to speak.

She sighs in defeat before making her way towards the back of the bus, unaware that your eyes are on her, your nostrils flaring.

She had no right to speak to you, no right to even look at you, not after the things she’d done, not after she’d left you behind to be abused and neglected.

You growl, turning towards the front of the bus, your fingers curling around the seat in front of you.

If you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t speak to Alex Morgan ever again, in reality, it wasn’t that you wouldn’t it was that you couldn’t.

**********************************************************************

Unfortunately, you’re forced to speak to her, the forward seeking you out when you reach the hotel, pushing her way into the elevator with you.

Your throat bobs as you stare blankly forward, your foot tapping and hands trembling, something Alex notices immediately.

“Y/N.” She whispers, her voice cracking, the sound pulling at your heartstrings, that sadness ebbing away a beat later.

“Y/N, you can’t ignore me forever.” She sighs and you shake your head.

“I told you; I have no idea who you are.” You say, the woman growling as you hastily exit the elevator, her hand catching your wrist, something that noticeably makes you jump.

“That’s bullshit Y/N, and you know--

Your lip curls in a snarl as you jerk your arm from her grasp.

“I USED to have a friend named Alex Morgan, but that was a long time ago.” You say through gritted teeth before turning on your heels and marching down the hallway, leaving a crestfallen Alex Morgan behind.

**********************************************************************

Despite the fact that your last interaction didn’t go well, Alex continued to try and speak to you, popping up seemingly everywhere.

Unfortunately, you would be on the road for a significant amount of time considering it was She Believes Season, the entirety of the team together more often than not.

The close quarters resulted in early mornings, and one morning, you’d made the mistake of rolling up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the multiple scars littering your skin.

Alex stiffened the moment she saw them, tears filling her blue orbs as she saw the massive number of burns on your skin, burns she knew were made by the end of a cigarette.

She’s unable to keep the tears in her eyes at bay, tears streaming down her cheeks.

You pick your head up, the feel of someone staring at you setting the hairs of your arms on end.

Your eyes catch hers and your brows furrow, following her gaze to the scars dotting your arms.

Your eyes meet hers before dropping to your marred arm, your nostrils flaring as you turn away, tugging your arm out of view.

“Alex...?”

Alex jumps, her eyes meeting Kelley’s concerned brown orbs.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” She asks, watching as Alex wipes her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater.

“It’s alright Kel, it’s nothing.” She sniffles, her eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

Kelley eyes her profile worriedly before turning away reluctantly, wondering what it was that was troubling her so.

**********************************************************************

“When did that happen?” Alex asks when she catches you in the hallway on your way to your hotel room.

You turn on your heels, coming face to face with the woman you’d been trying to avoid, her blue orbs zeroed in on your scarred arm.

You pull your arm out of view, tucking it behind you.

“Like you care.” You bite, turning on your heels to take your leave.

“Y/N, you can tell me anything.” She whispers, her words stopping you in your tracks, taking you back to the day on the playground when you’d first told her that your father had burned your arm, when you’d first told her your father was abusing you.

“Like you don’t know.” You mumble, unable to turn to face her, tears stinging your eyes.

Your breath hitches when she slips around you, gently taking your wrist and inspecting your arm closely.

You’re unable to stop your heart from skipping a beat when she brushes the scars, her touch light and tender.

The scars were generally perfect circles, aside from those that overlapped, forming random shapes along your arm.

Alex frowned as she caressed the lumpy and disfigured skin, her eyes glazing over.

“Don’t act like you care.” You mutter, the forward frowning.

“I do care, Y/N.”

You scoff, pulling your arm out of her grasp, briefly missing the way her fingertips felt against your skin.

“If you cared Alex, I wouldn’t have these.” You growl, her throat bobbing.

“You can’t blame me for that Y/N, it isn’t fair.”

You bark out a laugh, the sound taking her by surprise.

“I wouldn’t have half the scars I do if it wasn’t for you. You abandoned me when I needed you the most, and for what Alex!?” You yell, surprised by the sound of your own voice and the anger in your tone.

Alex’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, the forward unable to find her words, that being enough to send you shoving passed her, your shoulder knocking hers as you make your way down the hall towards your hotel room, leaving the woman behind, just as she’d done to you.

That night, you can’t help but stare at your shirtless self in the mirror, the scars typically hidden beneath your clothes revealed, of course, to your eyes only.

How could you ever forgive Alex when your skin looked like yours?

How could you ever forgive the woman that you’d blamed for receiving them in the first place?

***********************************************************************

It was unsurprising to Alex that you put so much pressure on her during practice, as if getting back at her for all the pain she caused.

“Pick it up Morgan!” You yell, Alex noticeably slacking considering you’d spent the practice already putting her through the ringer.

It’s only after her drills end that she comes to a halt, panting heavily, her hands on her knees as she attempts to fill her lungs with air.

You shake your head, making your way towards her and leaning down.

“You don’t just make the team because you’re a pretty face, you know that right?” You bite, the forward shooting you a glare.

Your brows furrow when the corners of her mouth tick upward.

“Did you just say I’m pretty?” She teases and you scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Of course, THAT’S what you take from that.”

Alex’s lips split in a grin, her smile just as bright as it always had been, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” She smirks and you roll your eyes, turning her towards the remainder of the team before giving her a light shove.

“Get your ass over there Morgan.” You grumble, her grin widening before she skips towards the others.

You roll your eyes, unable to hold back a small smile as you too make your way towards the team.

**********************************************************************

The distance between you and Alex was still massive, no bridge long enough to bring the two of you together.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Alex’s part, whereas she tried to reach out, you’d only pull back, unwilling to bridge the gap, in fact, increasing its size.

Alex watched as you focused your attention Lindsey’s knee, wrapping it gently, the blonde saying something to you she can’t quite hear, but whatever it was, it makes you smile, a smile that still makes her heart skip a beat after all these years.

You move to your feet, giving the midfielder a pat on the shoulder before she turns and jogs onto the field.

“Thanks Y/N!” Emily says patting your back a bit harder than intended, as she jogs passed following Lindsey onto the field.

You go ridged, your hands trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

Alex jogs towards you, the emotional turmoil you were experiencing unnoticed by the remainder of the team.

“Y/N...?” Alex whispers as she gently takes your trembling hands in her own, stopping their quaking.

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, an anxiety attack impending, something Alex had seen happen to you multiple times before.

“Y/N?” She says again, giving your hands a squeeze, this time however, you speak.

“I said I was sorry... Please don’t…” You mutter, Alex’s eyes widening before immediately filling with tears.

“Come on.” She whispers, silently guiding you away from the team, catching sight of Emma Hayes watching the two of you, the forward shaking her head rapidly.

When you’re in a secluded spot, Alex cups your cheeks.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut even more so than they already were, your hands shaking violently.

The tears in Alex’s eyes begin to stream down her face as she tries to think of something, ANYTHING to get you out of the catatonic state you’re in.

Her eyes widen, a memory flickering in the back of her mind as she pulls you into her, one arm around you and the other resting on the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in the fine hairs there.

She remembered holding you that way in high school, before your friendship ended, a nightmare pulling you from your sleep one night as the two of you slept side by side.

“I’ve got you.” She whispers in your ear, drawing lazy circles against the nape of your neck.

“And I’m not letting you go, never again.” She whispers, cooing softly in your ear.

Your breathing begins to slow, the motion of her fingers against the nape of your neck lulling you into a sense of calm, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

She knew when you realized it was her that was holding you, you’d pull away, and the thought tore her heart in two.

You begin to relax, your shoulders sagging as your eyes slowly flutter open.

Almost immediately you move out of Alex’s hold, the forward frowning, missing the way you felt against her, missing the way her fingers felt tangled in your hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” You snarl, putting as much distance as you possibly can between the two of you.

“I-I didn’t know what else to do, you were having a panic attack.” She explains, her voice quivering.

You scoff.

“I didn’t NEED your help, I would’ve been just fine without you, like I ALWAYS have been.” You bark out before hastily leaving the room, not even sparing a glance back at the woman whose shoulder you roughly knocked into on your way out.

**********************************************************************

Even though you were angry at her, you knew you had to thank Alex.

You couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if Alex hadn’t taken charge and took you to a secluded place to calm down, using a technique she became accustomed to using in your later high school years.

You could still feel her fingers gently drawing circles against the nape of your neck, something you longed to feel again, but you wouldn’t let her get that close again, you couldn’t.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when the very woman who’d been on your mind comes towards you, the woman silently shuffling from foot to foot as she waits to get her ankle wrapped.

You give Kelley a smile, the defender’s ankle wrapped in her own bit of tape before she jogs off, turning and giving Alex’s hand a squeeze on her way passed.

Alex comes to a stop in front of you, her throat bobbing as you gently take her ankle in your hands.

You’re silently wrapping her ankle in bright pink tape when you finally find your voice.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, blue orbs widening as they meet your Y/E/C’s.

“You don’t need to be.” She smiles softly and you clear your throat, the sight of that smile effecting you more than you’d care to admit.

“I do." You sigh, the forwards cheeks flushing as you subconsciously caress her ankle.

“You...” You swallow hard, your throat bobbing.

“If you weren’t there for me the other day, I don’t know what I would’ve done, so... Thank you, Alex.” You whisper, clearing your throat, your eyes widening when you realize you’d been running your thumb gently back and forth along her ankle.

You give her a nod, reluctantly releasing her ankle, your old friend staring down at you for a moment before she smiles.

“You don’t have to thank me.” She mumbles softly, before her lips split in a grin.

“But you’re welcome.”

You watch as she makes her way onto the field, a smile stretching across your own face as you turn to Lindsey Horan, the blonde waiting for her knee to be wrapped.

However, you can’t help but look passed her, specifically at Alex Morgan, the woman beaming, wearing a smile you hadn’t seen her wear in a long, long time.

A smile that makes the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir, butterflies that died a long, long time ago, butterflies that were slowly coming back to life.

You didn’t like that the feelings you did your best to bury were resurfacing.

You blamed her, you were supposed to hate her, but the more she smiled your way, the more that anger and blame started to ebb away.

Your brows furrow as your phone again begins to ring, an unknown number stretched across its screen.

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto the top of a nearby bag.

Alex glances your way, smiling softly when your eyes meet.

The relationship between the two of you began to slowly change, you no longer looked at her with absolute disdain, instead wearing an expression she couldn’t quite place.

It’s when Emma Hayes blows her whistle that Alex sighs, making her way towards her bag, unaware that your phone had slipped inside.

She runs her hand through her sweat covered hair, catching sight of you out of the corner of her eye as you chat with Emma Hayes, a smile on your face.

She’d missed seeing that smile, mostly, she missed seeing that smile directed at her.

She turns away, reluctantly, unaware that your phone was buried deep inside her bag.

**********************************************************************

You growl, searching wildly through your bag in an attempt to find your phone, sighing when you come up empty.

You flop down onto your hotel room’s bed, your head in your hands.

The last thing you wanted to do today was lose your phone, but here you were, attempting to remember where you’d last seen the device.

A tentative knock on your hotel room door makes you jump, your brows furrowing as you make your way towards it.

You tug the door open, your eyes widening and brows knitting in confusion when you see Alex standing behind the door, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

“Uhhh, yeah?” You say, the woman nodding into your hotel room.

“Can I come in?” She asks and you hum, eyeing her intently before you step aside, uncertain why you’d allowed her into your room.

The door clicks shut behind you before you turn towards her, your arms crossed across your chest.

“What is it?” You ask, your eyes widening when you realize she was holding your phone.

“I found it in my bag.” She says, the look on her face telling you there was something more to the reason why she was in your room.

“Th-Thanks.” You stutter, taking it from her hand, the forward’s throat bobbing.

“It was ringing, and I answered it.” She says, your brows knitting, anger building in your chest at the thought of the woman invading your privacy.

“I’m-I’m sorry Y/N, I promise, I really didn’t know it was your phone.” She stutters, the anger you were feeling dissipating at the look on Alex’s face.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” You ask and she, sheepishly nods.

“It was your mother.”

Your eyes double in size, your body going ridged at the mention of the woman who’d done nothing, merely watching as your father abused and neglected you, a woman you hadn’t talked to since you were kicked out at 18.

You make your way towards your bed, taking a seat on its end, Alex making her way towards you, waiting until you give her a nod before she too sits down.

The room is enveloped in silence for a moment before you find your voice.

“Wh-What did she want?” You stammer, realizing the calls you’d been getting the last few days must have been from your mother.

Alex swallows hard, staring at her intertwined fingers, her mouth opening and closing.

“It’s your dad.” She whispers, noting the hitch in your breath, the woman unable to stop herself from reaching for, and covering your hand.

You find yourself taking comfort in her touch, something you thought you would never do again.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alex clears her throat, seemingly searching for what to say before she mutters.

“He’s dying.”

You snort, in a sick sense, happy that the man who destroyed your childhood was about to die.

“Your mom said, he wants to...” She pauses, staring at your profile as she speaks.

“He wants to apologize, for everything, before he passes.”

You stiffen, your hands balling into fists, Alex’s thumb delicately running along your white knuckles.

You chuckle.

“Of course he does. He wants to clear his own conscious before he dies.” You snarl angrily, the thought of calling your mother and ripping her a new one prominent in your mind.

Alex remains silent, your brows furrowing as you turn towards her, her mouth opening and closing rapidly.

“What?” You ask, the forward shrugging.

“I may have...” She stops mid-sentence, shuffling nervously.

“Said some things.”

Your brows arch, noting that she’s refusing to look you in the eye.

“Like what?” You ask and she clears her throat.

“I may have told her your dad was a piece of shit, and that you didn’t owe him anything, that he doesn’t deserve to see you after all he did, and that she was a bitch who doesn’t deserve to see you either because she was just as guilty. He abused you, and she just watched and did nothing about it.”

Your brows arch, your eyes burning holes in the side of Alex’s head before you laugh, her blue orbs widening as she turns towards you.

You wrap your arms around your middle as you’re overcome with laughter, the thought of the look on your mother’s face as Alex tore her a new one, and the look on her face when it was Alex that answered the phone making you laugh uncontrollably.

You knew her and your father weren’t her biggest fans, considering she treated you the way you were meant to be treated, and loved you in a way that they never did.

“I would’ve paid to see that.” You say, wiping a tear from your eyes, the forward beside you smiling, her lips splitting into a grin.

“I meant what I said, you don’t owe them anything Y/N, even if he’s dying, you don’t have to go to see him, unless you want to.”

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to your and Alex’s joined hands, the feel of her hand in your own making your heart skip a beat.

“I know.” You say, taking a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

“I kind of want to see him, to show him that even though he treated me the way he did, he didn’t break me, that I became successful, and I didn’t need him or my mother to do it.”

You swallow hard, your gaze falling to your lap.

“I suppose...” You pause, frowning, unable to stop tears forming in your eyes.

“I suppose he did break me, didn’t he?” You mutter, your eyes widening a gasp leaving you as Alex’s hand leaves your own, the woman instead wrapping her arms tightly around you.

The tears that formed in your eyes began streaming down your cheeks as she held you tightly, her cheek pressing against your shoulder.

“He didn’t Y/N.” She whispers, squeezing you gently, not wanting to throw you into a panic attack like you’d had the other day.

You close your eyes, sagging in her hold, the hotel room falling silent as you simply let Alex hold you in her arms, a feeling you didn’t realize you’d missed so much.

You’re unsure of what makes you say it, but before you can think your lips are moving.

“I don’t know if I can face them alone.” You confess, Alex turning her head and kissing your temple, the woman stiffening when she realizes what she did, though she in no way relinquishes her hold on you.

“You don’t have to Y/N.” She whispers, smiling when she feels your arm slip around her.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart lightening in your chest at the thought of the forward coming back to your hometown with you.

“I’ll go with you.” She mutters nervously, leaning heavily into you, her hold on you tightening.

You go silent before you rest your head against hers, a soft sigh leaving you as you give her side a squeeze.

“I think I’d like that very much.”

**********************************************************************

The relationship between you drastically changed after that, the bridge was all but mended, the two of you almost as inseparable as when you were kids.

And when the She Believes Tournament ended, with the USWNT as the victors, you and Alex decided it was time to prepare to head back to your hometown, a place that held so many bad memories for you.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your apartment door, your hand freezing on the doorknob as you take a deep breath.

Despite the fact that things were better between the two of you, you still got nervous, worried that she would disappear again and break your heart.

You pull the door open slowly, Alex smiling when your eyes meet hers, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder a suitcase in one hand.

“Are you ready?” She asks as you step aside, allowing her inside, the woman taking in your small apartment.

“Honestly, not really.” You sigh, leaning against the island in your kitchenette.

Alex makes her way towards you with a frown, taking your hands, the gesture making your cheeks flush.

“Well, you’re not going alone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” She whispers as she caresses your knuckles.

You couldn’t lie, the feelings you had for Alex had resurfaced, and the closer you became, the more you realized that the feelings you had in high school had come back, tenfold.

You were in love with the woman currently holding your hands, the woman whose blue orbs sparkled when she smiled, the woman who’d broken your heart all those years ago.

You give her hands a squeeze, noting the flush of her own cheeks.

“I know.” You whisper pushing yourself off the island and moving to your full height.

“And it means a lot to me.” You say, bashfully staring at the floor beneath your feet.

Alex smiles softly, turning your hands over in her own before intertwining your fingers.

“It’s the least I could do.” She says, giving your hands a squeeze.

Her hands leave yours reluctantly and you sigh, missing the feel of her smooth palms against your own.

“Well, let’s go.”

**********************************************************************

Alex’s fingers drum on the steering wheel, her eyes darting to the passenger's seat, where you're fast asleep.

She knew this journey would take a toll on you, she knew that this was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, and she was happy you’d allowed her to be along for the ride.

You mumble in your sleep, your brows furrowing as your head turns back and forth.

Alex reaches towards you, gently covering your hand with her own as she pulls into the tiny roadside hotel the two of you were planning on staying in for the night before you reach your hometown the following day.

“Hey.” Alex whispers, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your brows furrowing as you blink rapidly to clear your vision.

“Are we here?” You rasp, the sound of your sleepy voice making her smile lovingly.

“No, we’re at the hotel.”

You hum, stretching your arms above your head before you open the passenger's side door and slip out with a groan.

Alex slides out the driver’s side door, she too stretching.

“We had reservations, right?” You ask and she nods rapidly.

“I’ll go check us in.”

You watch her go with a small smile, the woman disappearing into the small hotel’s lobby, leaving you with the suitcases, which you didn’t mind.

You lean back against Alex’s car, staring up at the random hotel you’d decided to stop at on your way home.

You sigh, leaning your head against the car behind you.

You didn’t want to go home, you didn’t want to face your father and your mother, but you knew you had to.

You had to show them that you were well off, you had to show them that you’d made it without them, that you survived your father’s abuse and your mother’s refusal to do anything about it.

And having Alex Morgan by your side was just a plus, a major plus.

You remember your father taunting you, making comments about how Alex had finally learned how pathetic you were and made the right decision to distance herself from you.

Your throat bobs as you bite your bottom lip, staving off tears at the thought of your father’s harsh words.

Your mother wanted you to come home to hear their apology, but you had ulterior motives.

You were never going to accept her apology, and you were certainly never going to accept his, much like his apologies during your childhood, they meant absolutely nothing, and that wasn’t about to change.

“Hey.”

You jump, your eyes flashing open, immediately locking with Alex’s blue orbs.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern evident in her tone.

You clear your throat, pushing off the car as you nod.

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”

***********************************************************************

It didn’t take long for the two of you to settle into your room, the pair of you flopping down onto the beds you’d be sleeping on for the night.

“I’m so tired.” You yawn, rolling off the bed and heading to your suitcase.

Before you realize what, you’re doing, you tug your shirt over your head, revealing your near bare back to the woman in the opposite bed.

“Oh my god.”

You twist on your heels, your eyes wide.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” You ask as you approach the forward, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What is—

You pause your throat bobbing as you glance down at yourself, realizing your torso was bare, covered only by the sports bra you were wearing.

Meaning each and every scar that covered your flesh was revealed, scars dotting your arms, as well as covering your chest and back.

Alex’s hands tremble as she makes her way towards you, her eyes focused intently on your chest, a number of scars littering your skin, some from glass, some from a belt, and others you couldn’t really remember.

Lashes covered your stomach, as well as your back, red welts made mostly by your father’s favorite belt.

A wide array of cigarette burns covered your skin, mostly all over your arms, but some were on your chest and stomach.

“Jesus Christ.” Alex whispers, her voice cracking as she places her hands on your shoulders, taking in the destruction your father left behind on your skin.

“I-I...” She stammers, her bottom lip trembling as she turns you around, lash marks covering your back, overlapping into a mess of patterns.

Alex sobs, your breath hitching as she wraps her arms around you from behind, burying her face in the nape of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.” She cries, clinging onto you for dear life, her tears running down your scarred back.

You turn in her hold, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the woman burying her face in your neck as she cries.

“This is all my fault.” She sniffs, realizing that you hadn’t had the scars you do before the two of you had stopped being friends.

You shake your head, your chin resting on the top of her head.

“It isn’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” You whisper, ducking down to kiss her head.

Alex pulls back, her watery blue orbs locking with your equally watery Y/E/C’s.

“It is Y/N!” She cries, searching your face intently.

“You didn’t have these before we stopped being friends.” She says, whimpering as she takes in your scars again.

“I—

“No.” She says, shaking her head rapidly.

“If I would’ve just told you how I felt, you wouldn’t have these.” She sniffles, your eyes widening, and brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?” You ask, staring closely at the woman’s face, noting the way her throat bobs.

“Come on, Al.” You whisper, gently placing your hands on her waist.

“You can tell me anything.” You say, repeating the words she’d said on the playground so long ago.

Much to your surprise, she stares at you blankly for a moment before leaning in, your breath catching as her lips meet yours.

The butterflies that recently began to stir, burst to life as you kiss your childhood best friend, something you’d wanted to do for so long.

Your lips lock, the kiss stimulating every one of your nerve endings.

You never wanted it to end, you never wanted to stop kissing Alex Morgan.

She sighs against your lips as you kiss passionately, feelings the two of you had for so long now revealed.

Reluctantly, you part, Alex’s forehead resting against yours as you catch your breath.

“Wow.” You whisper, smiling when Alex leans in for another kiss, this one softer, and shorter than the one you’d just shared.

Alex’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds before she clears her throat.

“I didn’t know how to tell you back then how I felt, I was scared, I thought if I pushed you away, the feelings would go away, but they didn’t.”

She cups your cheeks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“They never went away, because I love you, Y/N.” She confesses, your eyes doubling in size, your heart skipping a beat.

“I always have, I just never knew how to say it...”

She licks her lips, inhaling deeply before continuing.

“When I saw you walking across the field, those feelings came flooding back.”

She rests her forehead against yours.

“I love you Y/N, I always have, and I always will.”

The room falls silent, the woman in front of you baring her entire soul to you, the knowledge that she’d felt the same making your stomach lurch with excitement.

You lean in, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips.

“I love you too, Al.” You whisper, Alex smiling against your lips as she throws her arms around your neck, kissing you passionately, the feel of her lips against yours something she couldn't get enough of.

The kisses remain tame, the urge to turn them into something more not present in any sense, the two of you catching up on the tender and loving kisses you’d missed when growing up.

You again, reluctantly part, your arms wrapping tightly around Alex, the forward burying her nose in the crook of your neck.

Unfortunately, your lips part in a lengthy, and loud yawn, the woman in your arms giggling as she leans back, leaning in to peck your lips before stepping out of your embrace.

“We should get some sleep, huh?” She asks and you nod, making your way towards your suitcase and grabbing the shirt you’d first intended to put on.

“Wait.” Alex whispers, placing her hand gently on your back so as to not scare you.

You turn to face her, a single brow arched as she motions to the shirt in your hands.

“Keep it off.” She says your throat bobbing as your eyes dart from Alex’s blue orbs to the shirt and back.

You hum, dropping the shirt before grabbing a few things from your suitcase and nodding to the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile, pecking her lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

Alex, meanwhile, makes her way towards her own suitcase, slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top just as you’re moving out of the bathroom.

She turns towards you, noting the way you shuffle on your feet, a sports bra covering your upper torso and a pair of sweats hugging your hips.

She holds her hand out, motioning towards one of the beds, your cheeks flushing at the silent invitation.

Nervously, you make your way towards her, her hand immediately settling on your bare stomach before she nods towards the bed.

“Do you want to share?” She asks in an uncertain whisper.

You gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger, tilting her head upwards until her blue orbs meet your Y/E/C’s.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Eventually, you turn the overhead light off, and shuffle into bed, the flickering TV the only thing bringing some source of light to the room.

Alex leans back, her blue orbs dragging down your front, taking in the scars covering your chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when she ducks down, gently kissing a long scar running along your collarbone before turning her attention to the others she can reach.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feel of her lips a complete contrast to what it felt like to get the scars in the first place.

You can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks before you realize you’re crying.

Alex pulls away from you, tears forming in her own eyes when she sees you’re crying.

She cups your cheeks, pressing a tender, and loving kiss to your lips.

“Shhhhh.” She coos, her fingers running through your hair as you bury your face in her neck.

It isn’t long before you fall silent, falling fast asleep, tear tracks visible on your face as your childhood best friend holds you tightly.

She ducks down, kissing the top of your head, a hum leaving you as you snuggle closer.

“I love you Y/N, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”

**********************************************************************

The remainder of the journey is uneventful, Alex’s hand in yours more often than not, the woman kissing you tenderly any chance she got, realizing how much the feel of her lips against yours calmed you.

Before you realize it, you’re passing the sign informing you that you’d made it, you’d made it to the place that held so many awful memories for you.

You cling to Alex’s hand tightly, the woman noting the feel of your clammy palm against hers.

“We’re here.” She whispers and you nod, your chest tightening.

“Y-Y-Yeah...” You stammer, the air within the car becoming less and less until you feel as if you’re unable to breathe.

Alex almost immediately pulls to the side of the road, gently cupping your cheeks, her forehead resting against yours.

“It’s alright.” She whispers, taking your hand and pressing it against her own chest.

“Try to match me.”

You whimper, tears running down your face, but your breathing halts entirely when you feel Alex’s lips pressing against yours.

You slowly part, noting the fact that your anxiety attack had been stopped dead in its tracks, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Are you okay?” She says softly, her lips brushing yours as she whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut, the tightness in your chest ebbing slightly, but not entirely going away, you knew what you had to do to get it to go away, and that was to confront your father.

“I have to confront him before I’ll be okay.” You confess, Alex kissing your lips again before turning her attention to the road.

“Well, let’s go do that.”

Alex takes your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as you stand outside the hospital where your father and mother are, the aforementioned woman making her way towards you, tears in her eyes.

“Y/N...” She says, opening her arms, but quickly realizing the last thing she’d get was a hug from you, especially considering Alex had stepped partially in front of you, her protective side warming your heart considerably.

Your mother comes to a stop, her throat bobbing.

“I understand.” She says and your nostrils flare.

“Where is he?” You say curtly, Alex gently squeezing your hand, earning a squeeze in return.

Your mother frowns before nodding to the hospital.

“This way.”

**********************************************************************

Your mother didn’t even attempt to make small talk on the way to the room, she knew you weren’t there to embrace her and forgive her for everything she didn’t do when you were growing up.

Alex’s hand remained in yours, even as your grip on her hand became painful, she didn’t let go.

You needed an anchor, and she would be that anchor, for as long as you needed and as long as you would let her.

Your mother comes to a stop outside one of the many hospital rooms before turning towards you, her hands clasped in front of her.

“He’s in here.” She says, unable to look you in the eye.

“Please, try not to upset him, he doesn’t have much time left.”

Your lip's part, your nostrils flaring angrily, before you can speak however, Alex beats you to it.

“Yeah, because he cared so much about not upsetting Y/N when she was growing up.” She bites, your mother having the decency to look remorseful.

She didn’t abuse you, she never hit you, but she allowed it, and it was that thought that made you keep distance between the two of you, you weren’t about to forgive the woman who stood aside while your father scarred your body and beat you senseless.

She simply nods before stepping aside, motioning towards the room, knowing full well that the visit wasn’t going to go how your father expected.

You come to a stop, your chest tightening at the thought of seeing the man again, your free hand beginning to shake.

Alex turns you towards her, the woman cupping your cheek with her free hand, the other in a vice grip.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” She whispers, resting her forehead against your own.

You nod, your throat bobbing.

“Promise?” You whisper, your voice noticeably cracking.

Alex smiles, closing the distance between you, her lips lightly meeting your own.

Your mother meanwhile is unable to keep herself from smiling, happy in the knowledge that you had someone to care for you, unlike she had when you were growing up.

You give Alex a barely visible nod, the woman taking your hand and stepping through the doorway with you, partially in front of you in a protective gesture.

“There she is.”

You come to a screeching halt, your eyes darting towards your father who’s resting in the hospital bed, looking much smaller than he did when you were growing up.

“Well, aren’t you going to give your old man a hug?” He asks, his eyes still holding a hint of the anger you saw all the years ago.

“No.” You say curtly, leading Alex further into the room, your hands now full-on sweating, your face flushed.

“Why not?” He asks, his voice having an edge to it.

“Why?” You ask, laughing humorlessly.

You stare at the man blankly, realizing he had deluded himself into thinking you had no reason for not coming over and hugging him.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex snarls, the woman taken aback when you move towards his bed.

“Maybe because you spent my childhood beating the hell out of me?!” You roar, knowing your voice could be heard rooms away.

His lips part, the man about to say something but you don’t care, rolling your sleeves up and showing him the scars on your arms.

“Maybe this is why?” You yell, unbuttoning your shirt hastily, uncaring that you were basically standing in the hospital room wearing only a sports bra.

Your mother is unable to stop her breath from hitching when she sees the scarred flesh of your torso.

“Maybe this is why, DAD.” You say, your voice dripping with contempt.

Your father remains silent, the anger you’d typically seen burning in his eyes still there growing.

“I just wanted to see you before I go.” He growls, and you scoff.

“Well, here I am.” You say, throwing your hands in the air, Alex watching in something akin to awe as you confront your abuser.

“I’m not going to give you a big hug, and I’m not going to tell you I’ll miss you, because I won’t.” You bite, noting the jumping in your father’s jaw.

“How dare you—

“How dare I?” You bark out a laugh.

“How dare you think I should come here and just forgive you, just forget what you did to me growing up, how dare YOU.” You yell, cut off by a nearby nurse.

“Is something wrong?” She asks, her brows knitted in confusion.

Alex turns to her.

“This has been a long time coming, she needs this, let it happen.” She whispers, the woman shaking her head.

“I never said I was sorry.” Your father mumbles and you’re unable to stop yourself from laughing.

“Of course you didn’t, because you never felt bad for beating me.” You shake your head, the nurse, surprisingly, backing out of the room.

“Well, you didn’t break me, you didn’t win.” You say, your hands balling into fists.

“I came here to tell you that, and now that I did, I can move on with my life.” You say, turning towards Alex before leaving the room hastily, leaning against the wall outside of the room.

Alex turns to your father, the man shooting her a glare, a glare she returns, her blue orbs smoldering.

“You tried so hard to break her, but it didn’t work. She’s one of the best women I know, and I love her, more than you ever did, more than either of you ever did.” She snarls angrily, glancing at your mother who’s staring at the floor.

“She’s better than either of you, she rose above your abuse and became an amazing and talented woman, someone I’m proud to call my girlfriend.” She says confidently, your eyes widening when you realize what Alex had just said.

“Of course, as if she couldn’t disappoint me more.” Your father growls in reference to the fact that you and Alex were together.

Your hands ball into fists, the thought of walking in and jacking his jaw prominent.

“We don’t need your approval; we don’t want it.” She says, walking closer to the bed, the nurse who’d come in earlier coming towards you along with another nurse.

“Y/N is a better person than you could ever hope be.” She growls, turning to make her way out of the room, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

“I'm proud of her for coming here, for saying what she needed to say, and I know I put distance between the two of us growing up, but I’m going to be there for her no matter what, more than you ever were.” She says before making her way out of the room, zeroing in on where you were leaning against a nearby wall.

She hastily makes her way towards you, throwing her arms around you, squeezing you tightly.

Unbeknownst to you, your mother had followed you out, wearing a frown.

“I asked you not to upset him.”

Alex relinquishes her hold on you, the two of you sending the older woman a piercing glare.

“Well, I asked you to be there for me growing up, and you weren’t. Looks like neither of us got what we wanted.” You say, taking Alex’s hand, the nurses making their way towards you coming to a halt.

“Don’t worry.” You say, glancing at the women.

“We’re leaving.” You say, turning towards your mother.

“The only reason you need to call me again is to tell me he’s dead.” You say, turning on your heels, and making your way down the hallway, Alex’s hand holding yours tightly.

It’s only when you’re walking out of the hospital’s entrance that you break down, falling to your knees, your body wracked with sobs.

Alex drops down beside you, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you sob loudly against her chest, the relief of finally telling your father how you felt, making you emotional.

“You did it, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.” Alex whispers, running her fingers through your hair as she coos softly in your ear.

You sniffle, tears streaming down your face, your nose running as you cry against her chest.

Eventually, you fall silent, your body twitching every so often as you sniff.

You pull back, your bloodshot Y/E/C orbs meeting Alex’s red rimmed blues.

She cups your cheeks, leaning her forehead against your own.

“How do you feel?” She asks as you breathe in deep, filling your lungs with air, your chest no longer feeling as tight as it did.

You sigh, cupping her cheeks, wiping the tears Alex didn’t realize were streaming down her cheeks away.

“Lighter.” You say softly, bumping your nose against Alex’s.

You fall silent before your lips split in a grin.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You tease, her cheeks flushing.

“I-I mean...” She stutters, cut off by your lips meeting hers in a tender, chaste kiss.

“I do like the sound of that.” You smile, Alex throwing her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze.

The two of you eventually make your way towards Alex’s car, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.

“I’m so proud of you.” Alex says as she slips into the driver’s seat.

You turn back towards the hospital, staring up at the hospital where your mother and father currently were, an abusive man you’d finally told how you felt, a demon from your past that you’d finally faced and conquered.

You smile, slipping in the passenger's seat beside Alex, the woman immediately taking your hand.

“You know.” You pause, turning towards Alex who’s wearing a tender smile.

Your own lips split in a grin.

“I’m proud of me too.”

***********************************************************************

It’s nearly two years later that you find yourself back in your hometown, rain pouring down around you as you stand at your father’s grave.

You stare down at the stone stoically, noting the fact that it doesn’t say anything about being a loving father, but only a loving husband.

Your eyes widen when a dark shadow falls over you, a shadow belonging to an umbrella, an umbrella Alex Morgan is currently holding.

You take her hand, your fingertips brushing the ring wrapped around her ring finger, a ring you’d proposed to her with not that long ago.

Life had torn you apart, creating a distance between you so vast that you were not sure if the gap would be bridged, but it was also life that brought you together again.

It was life that led Alex to confess her feelings for you, and life that led you to where you currently were now, standing in the middle of the graveyard, your hand in Alex’s, the band of her engagement ring cold against your palm.

You turn towards her, smiling softly.

“Are you ready?” You ask, her brows arching when she turns towards you.

“Are you?” She asks, squeezing your hand as you turn back to the stone, nodding.

“Yeah, I am.”

Alex turns, her fingers intertwining with yours as you make your way back towards her car.

You chance one last look over your shoulder, staring at your father’s stone again before turning away, eager to start your life with the woman currently holding your hand, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.

After all these years, you were finally free, and you were free to live your life with the woman you loved, and that woman was your childhood best friend, and fiancé, Alex Morgan.

#uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine #please let me know what you think!

309 notes · View notes

qiupachups · 7 months

Text

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.

#miles g morales x reader #miles g x reader #prowler miles x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv headcanons #atsv miles #atsv x you #atsv fanfiction #chewy writes ♪

355 notes · View notes

bangtanintotheroom · 10 months

Text

6:42 AM (M)

Every hour, every minute, every second You know night after night I'll be fuckin' you right Seven days a week

• Pairing: Jungkook x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Fluff, Smut, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1,973

• Summary: Jungkook is ready to kick off a new day of loving you.

• Warnings/themes: JK and Y/N are horny but in love 🥰, mentions of sex all over the house, mentions of oral (f. receiving), lots of kisses 🥺, fingering, hitting it from the side, unprotected sex, c*ckwarming

• Song Inspo: Seven - Jung Kook (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: As much as I loved Seven, I didn’t plan to write anything related to it until I got the sudden urge this past weekend. I’m in a fluffy mood lately and it clearly shows in this fic 😳 If anyone can guess what anime I’m talking about, I’ll give you a platter of cookies because wow, was it a passing line 😂🍪

• Notes (2): Thank you to my lovely Sunclair @minisugakoobies for reading over this for me! ☀️💖

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

When Jungkook opened his eyes, the only thing he could see was the tangled mess that was your hair. Blinking to clear the sleep out, he pulled his head back to get a better survey of the bedroom. It wasn’t as dark as the last time he’d had his eyes open, but not bright enough to make out every feature.

Shifting his body enough that he wouldn’t wake you, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

6:42 AM.

Normally, Jungkook would grumble before rolling over and burrowing himself deeper into the Downy-scented covers. Why the hell would he get up at this time if he didn’t have anywhere to go?

But today?

His pierced lips curled with eagerness.

Today, he had a mission to complete. The earlier, the better.

Resting his body completely now, he watched your profile as you still ventured in dreamland, lips parted as you let out soft breaths. You always lamented the fact that you tended to drool in your sleep, but Jungkook wouldn’t let you finish before telling you that he thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world, drool on your face or not.

Even as he admired you, he felt his heart picking up in rate and a stirring in his groin.

It didn’t help that your bare body was pressed against every inch of his under the comforter, legs tangled in the mutual desire to be as close to each other as possible as you fell asleep last night.

He could visualize every inch on the fly. Every scar, mole, stretch mark.

Then again, if he didn’t by now, he’d be disappointed in himself. Spending the last few days inside of you in some way or another was guaranteed to sharpen his memory.

Jungkook licked his lips as he reminisced on what the two of you had been up to. You both agreed to take vacation around the same time, planning to go somewhere to relax. But when it came closer, no one had any suggestions nor the energy to travel. It was a mutual decision to remain home and just take it easy.

Although, take it easy was far from what was happening.

On Saturday night, the two of you shared a bottle of wine and somehow, some way, the conversation ended up on sex. It wasn’t the topic itself that was unexpected, but how it deviated that made Jungkook hold back a giggle just now.

You had questioned whether it was possible to have sex for a week straight, thanks to a passing line in an old anime you revisited. Your boyfriend humored your sudden query, entering into a conversation that should not have lasted almost an hour. But you had opened up a box that neither of you wanted to close.

By the time the bottle was on its last drop, you and Jungkook decided to test this theory out, starting on Monday. Sunday was designated as laundry day and neither of you planned to shake up the tradition.

As soon as the two of you woke up Monday morning, your boyfriend was grabbing at your half-asleep form. You had called him an ‘insatiably horny monster,’ but he was quick to defend his desires as he worked at your clothes. He just had so much love to give you. It made you give a laugh that swiftly morphed into a gasp as a tattooed hand dove between your legs.

And then the rest was history.

Sex wasn’t delegated to the bed only.

Jungkook would make love to you on the couch.

Jungkook would fuck you while you were bent over the kitchen counter.

Jungkook would hold you up against the wall if he was feeling adventurous (although you freaked out when you felt him nearly drop you a couple of times).

Jungkook would even have you ride him as he sat on the bench in the shower, the water making every inch of your bare skin glisten like diamonds.

No area in the house was off-limits.

While he was reminiscing on the last few days, you were beginning to wake up. Opening your eyes a mite, you could tell it was earlier than expected. You figured that Jungkook was still asleep as well, but when you turned your head, you were greeted with dark, loving eyes. A sight that never failed to bring a smile to your lips.

“Good morning.”

“G’morning, babe.”

He was quick to place a peck on your slightly chapped lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

“Slept well?”

“Mhm. You?”

A bunny-like grin sprung up on his handsome face.

“Of course.”

A giggle left you at his answer. He didn’t stay with the world of the living for long after laying down in bed; the much-needed shower the two of you had taken before sapped the last bit of energy he had. This was pretty much what had been happening since Monday night.

But judging by the way his hands began roaming your body, he was wide awake now.

Someone didn’t want to waste time today, huh?

“Kookie…”

“Yeah?”

You bit back a smile as you felt his fingertips dancing under the curve of your breast.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook kept them moving as he leaned in next to your ear, sleep still lingering in his voice as he whispered, “Starting our day off right.”

Your hunch was correct as he started decorating your neck and shoulder with kisses, each press kicking off sparks underneath your skin.

“What about breakfast?”

Another kiss.

“I ate last night.”

You hummed, both at the feel of his lips and his reply.

“Pussy doesn’t count as actual food, baby.”

Now a light dig of teeth into your skin.

“It does to me.”

You weren’t surprised at his insistence; once his mind was set on having sex, there was little that could sway him off the path.

It was a new day, also…

Making your decision, you shifted your body to press back against your boyfriend, feeling his cock twitch from the movement. You slowly wiggled your hips, making deliberate grinds with your ass on him. The act earned a quiet groan from Jungkook, the arm underneath your body tightening its hold while his hands slid up to cup your breasts, fingers greeted by your stiff nipples.

He immediately began teasing them, savoring the breathy sighs you made as you kept rubbing back on him. Every second that passed ended up with the warmth between your legs increasing because of his touch. You could feel him getting harder and harder, starting to hear him make sounds of his own as well. Your lover must have been running out of patience as one hand began trailing down your body, its intended destination clear.

You were about to roll onto your back to give Jungkook easier access until you felt that same hand take a hold of your hip. He eased your confusion by saying softly, “Stay like that.”

Relaxing into the mattress again, you were bombarded with kisses and bites to your neck once more, the sensations of that and the fingers on your nipple combining into something wonderful. Wonderful enough that you were caught off-guard when you felt the other set of digits beginning to explore a more intimate part.

Jungkook knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew what areas made you keen or tremble with need. How to get you so worked up that you would be begging for him to fuck you silly. He tended to like bringing you to that point.

Yes, it was a bit selfish on his part, but he couldn’t help but admire the faces and sounds you would make in such a vulnerable state. It made him feel good that you granted him the privilege to witness that sight and also be the one to fix the problem.

As of now, said problem was a result of you rolling your hips down on his hand as two of his fingers took their sweet time massaging and stretching your inner walls. The side of his thumb would brush against your clit, but it just wasn’t enough pressure.

“Jungkook—”

Pausing his movements at the frenzied way you said his name, Jungkook realized that he wasn’t feeling very patient himself this morning. He was quick to slip out of you with a light squelch before taking your leg to rest it on top of his muscular thigh. Taking a hold of his stiff cock, he lined himself up with your entrance and slid into his rightful place with little resistance.

The sounds of satisfaction the two of you made melded and joined the early morning air in the room, quickly followed by the occasional smack of your bodies against each other. Every loving whisper he’d utter into your ear would be returned with words of your own, ranging from praise to pleas for him to not stop.

A useless request, honestly. He would never stop. Not when you felt this amazing.

At some point amidst the fog of pleasure shrouding your brain, you realized that the two of you hadn’t kissed since waking up. Wanting to fix that immediately, you turned your head back, almost enough to pull a muscle in your neck. You husked your request, your boyfriend jumping on it with lightning speed.

The angle made it a little uncomfortable, but you couldn’t care at the moment. Not when he was filling you up and loving you so well.

Just as you felt a jumble of knots deep in your belly, Jungkook’s movements became less fluid and moderate, bringing more speed and power into it. He was just as close as you were. But you didn’t even have to ask him to help you with hitting that high point. As soon as you opened your mouth, his hand went straight to working over the bundle of nerves above where you two were joined.

His actions caused the heat in the bedroom to rise higher and higher until it became unbearable. Just when you felt like you were at your limit, shock-waves slammed into your body. They rolled through you and towards Jungkook as well, announced by the desperate groan he gave as he buried himself and painted your throbbing walls.

Neither of you wanted this beautiful moment to end.

But alas, the pulsations slowed down, leaving your sweat-soaked bodies to assimilate to calm again. You could barely register the warm palm rubbing your waist gently, only able to fully focus when you felt a kiss to your cheek. Your head turned back again, ignoring the slight twinging ache in your neck, to take in your boyfriend’s flushed and damp face.

Jungkook was quick to give you one of his winning smiles, chocolate brown eyes damn near sparkling. Now that the room was brighter, you could see more of the little details you loved. Taking everything only made your still pounding heart skip.

A swell of emotions inside made your voice express them openly, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle at the three words you often told him. He repeated them back to you, followed by a long and languid kiss. The two of you stayed like that for a while, him still nestled in your warmth while words continued to be traded, the sun rising further and further in the sky to illuminate the bedroom fully.

At some point, you remembered that it was Friday. Which meant there were still two more days of you and Jungkook indulging in each other’s bodies.

You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your vacation.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

601 notes · View notes

kazumist · 4 months

Text

EPISODE 13 ✿ LITTLE BY LITTLE

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 732.

with the past issue slowly dying down, you and diluc decided to lay low for each other’s sake so that you two could avoid such an issue appearing again.

“wait, so i just do that? how come it looked so difficult when professor maxwell explained it?" you exclaimed, shocked at how you didn’t get the process earlier.

he won’t even deny it. he has been warming up to you ever since that talk you guys had back then. ever since he was in junior high school, all he had were the other three. so for him, it felt quite refreshing that he managed to get along with someone new on a close level.

“maybe it’s because you were feeling sleepy again during his lecture.” diluc chuckles at you.

“hey, i wasn’t! though his voice really does have this sleepy effect whenever he’s giving a lecture... he’s so soft spoken for what?” you groaned, slumping yourself over on the table.

if someone were to see you and diluc, one would most likely assume you're together as a couple, having a little study date in the library.

“you mixed these two up. first, you do this, then you do that," diluc explains, using his pencil to point out your mistakes.

“actually, do you prefer a simpler way to solve this?”

“diluc, this is fucking calculus. of course i’d prefer an easier way," you deadpanned at him.

“alright, well, you can actually just use this formula instead," he says, writing it down for you.

you looked confused as you stared at the formula presented before you. “eh? but professor maxwell didn't teach us that.”

“that's because i derived it. look, if i use this formula,” writing down the proper solution using the derived formula that he's teaching you (however, you couldn't help but stare at his side profile instead of the one he was writing). “and there you have it. see? it's still the same result," he finishes.

“huh? wait, yeah! i think my life just became easier. what the hell?"

“you're welcome.” he chuckles.

but who cares if they assume that you're romantically involved with each other? they can think all they want. what matters is that your only focus is the derived formula that just made your life easier.

oh! and the one who taught you that as well.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

but why—just why did diluc feel so... electric when your hands brush against each other? why did it actually feel nice when he felt your touch, even if it was just for a quick moment? this is stupid, diluc thinks; he just helped you pick up your pen, after all.

why did it make him happy to hear his name roll off your tongue so smoothly? it’s not like you say it in a different way than his friends. so what makes you say it so differently? what makes it special for diluc whenever he hears you say his name?

with a bit of remaining time left, you both decided to take care of some other schoolwork. but diluc couldn’t focus. no matter how hard he tries, his attention span for his own workload just ends up shifting to the girl working peacefully beside him—you.

he takes in your side profile. your index and middle fingers were pressed onto your temple, gently massaging it, a sign that diluc noted that you’re stressed about whatever you’re working on right now. your other hand lets go of the pen it was holding as you start to tap your fingers against the table—a habit you have whenever you try to brainstorm or think of something—and a trait that diluc noted down in his head (as for why he noted such a thing down, he’ll refuse to answer that).

you two are supposed to be only a tutee and a tutor to each other. neither of you should cross that line; diluc should know this by heart—after all, he’s the one who refuses to show any romantic interest towards anyone because he’s solely focused on his career. he couldn't—actually, no, he wouldn’t even dare take a tiny step into the gates that lead to your heart.

nonetheless, diluc accepts it. he accepts that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossing the line right now (or maybe he has already crossed without even realizing it).

it wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @haihelokuki @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @ratiolove @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smau #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader

172 notes · View notes

causewayguy · 1 year

Text

Pics courtesy of a fellow follower

************************

You folks know how Chinese parents like to have sons instead of daughters? They will always go 'Son good', 'Son carries our family name', 'Son is better'. But there is always one very special reason most fathers want a son for, and for me, her name is Charlotte.

Charlotte is my son’s latest girlfriend. They have been together for close to 1 year now and Charlotte has recently begun to stay over. Since my wife passed many years back, having another woman in the house was super exciting - FBTs, tank-tops, thin shirts, pokies, nip slips, etc. And all these from a hot piece of ass! Charlotte was becoming my main masturbation material.

One Saturday, I was home alone while my son and Charlotte went on their date. While scrolling through Insta, I came across Charlotte’s IG story; a selfie in my son’s bedroom and a side profile picture, with her jeans showing off her juicy ass. Suddenly, an evil thought came over me and I quickly went into their room, searching for something….viola! Charlotte’s lace panties. I started jerking off with her panties while eye-fucking her IG pictures. Before long, I cum all over her white panties. An eviller idea came to mind. I folded and placed her panties on the top of the pile, hoping my fantasy would come true tomorrow.

The next morning, I woke up at the first ring of my alarm and quickly went to the living room, as Charlotte always cooks breakfast for us. There she was. She smiled and greeted me then continued cooking her scrambled eggs. Not sure which Buddha answered my prayers as a piece of egg fell on the floor and Charlotte bends down to clean it up. My eyes widen in happiness, Charlotte was wearing the panties from last night, filled with my cum! I dashed back to my room to take care of the hardening boner, and came 3 times in just 15 minutes, thinking of what had happened and what can I do further in future.

Few weeks later, the 3 of us went on a family trip. I have been busy with work and had no time to masturbate so my balls are completely full. And Charlotte being on this trip certainly helped. At the pier we visited, I imagined the wind blowing her hair back as she sucks me off in her tight tank-top and jeans. I imagined fucking her against the wall of the art museum we visited, as though she was one of art pieces for everyone to enjoy. And finally, I imagined titty fucking her fantastic C-cuppers exposed through the gap of her black top and spray my cum all over Charlotte’s face as my son was in the shower. If the trip lasted longer than a week, I would have suffered dehydration from masturbating too much to Charlotte.

However, the best was yet to come. My son can never handle his alcohol well, so usually takes an Uber whenever he and Charlotte go drinking. One night, Charlotte ringed me well past midnight. It turned out my son was so wasted that no Uber was willing to take them home. I was fuming as I had to drive all the way down to Clarke Quay to pick them up. However, my heart melted as I saw Charlotte standing there, looking all defeated as my drunk son leaned his entire weight on her.

On our way home, Charlotte apologized over and over again to me but I just smiled at her, brushing it off. What I was actually doing was stealing glances at her deep cleavage from her wraparound white top. In her tipsy state, Charlotte began complaining about work, about friends, about my son drinking too much, about how he was not satisfying her enough. The more she complained, the more body movement she made and well, the more her boobs jiggle.

Hornnnnnnn! I was so mesmerized by her boobs that I did not notice a red light and the oncoming traffic horned. On instinct, I struck out an arm while hitting the brakes, trying to protect Charlotte from falling forward. But this meant that her front body fell onto my outstretched arm.

‘Uncle are you oka- Ahhhh…’ Charlotte moaned as she finally felt my hand on her boobs. I was high on adrenaline from the near miss, so when my hand was on the boobs of my masturbation fantasy, I just squeezed. When I realized what I have done, my cock also started to rise in my shorts. I tried to pull my hand away but Charlotte kept my hand there while she stuck her other hand between her legs. Her face was filled with CFM expression. ‘Please Uncle…don’t stop now…’

Without thinking, I sped home with one hand on the wheel and the other hand ‘servicing’ Charlotte. Alternating between both boobs, I managed to peel off Charlotte’s nipple stickers and started tuning her rock hard nipples. My car was filled with erotic female moans as well as the squishing sounds of something wet. My rock-hard boner was now like another gearstick that Charlotte groped at. I felt her pumping my cock to the rhythm of the squishing sounds between her legs, adding my moans to the already erotic surround sound in the car.

Within minutes, my car was safely parked in my garage, with me fucking Charlotte over the bonnet, pulling her golden long hair.

I could feel every inch of Charlotte’s pussy as I thrusted my cock into her. I could see her boobs bouncing out of that white top of hers. I quickly grabbed them and started to pump into her faster and harder. Charlotte’s face was filled with lust and her tongue hanging out, drooling and moaning.

I started becoming the devil again.

Me: ‘Who is bigger??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle bigger~!’

Me: ‘Who is better??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle better~!’

Me: ‘Who are you??’

Charlotte: ‘I am your slut, Uncle… Don’t stop!!!’

I could feel her pussy clamping on my cock as she cum but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. With my cock still inside her, I walked (dragged) her over to the back door and opened it. Still weak from her big orgasm, Charlotte leaned forward above my drunk son with her hair flowing down to my son's face. Now, I continued to fuck her harder, right above my son!

Me: ‘Who is the guy in front of you, you slut?’

Charlotte: ‘M….my boyfriend…’

Upon hearing her answer, I pulled out immediately, leaving my cock head barely touching her pussy.

Me: ‘Again, who is he??’

Charlotte: ‘Nnooo, he’s nobody! Don’t stop plea-uuuhhhhhhh’

Charlotte whimpered loudly as I thrusted my full length into her without warning. Watching her moaned right at her boyfriend’s face while his father’s cock penetrating her from the back was too much for me. I emptied my weeks’ worth of cum into her pussy raw, triggering Charlotte’s second big orgasm. Charlotte was so fucked that she fell onto my son, panting and shaking.

We rested for a bit (and me taking a mental picture of this scene) and I carried Charlotte up to my bedroom where we made some more loving before finally dozing off in exhaustion.

One year later…

Buzz, buzzz

I received a photo from Charlotte with the caption:

‘Dear, your son passed out from drinking again. 😊 Managed to get him drunk every night of our honeymoon. But now I am super horny le… Lucky I brought the bra with your cum stain with me. Sniffed it while I masturbated last night 😉. Will wear to on the flight back to SG later too. See you soon! xoxo Charlotte’

Thank you, Son, for the world’s best daughter-in-law.

1K notes · View notes

sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 3 months

Text

~ As Sweet As Sugar | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, the in-laws (again), talks of marriage, mentions of divorce, business talks, mentions of large inheritance, love confessions, sweet Kook, enamoured Kook, this is a pretty soft chapter tbh, Jimin and Namjoon feature in a scene (we love these two), implied smut at the end, OC is wiped by JK, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Jungkook makes a decision that would change his life forever but he can't regret it when he know he'll have you in the end. Promises are made, love gets sealed, because a caramel isn't always as sour as it seems.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hello, darlings! Welcome to the final chapter of "Sweet Marriage"! I hope you are excited to see how (y/n) and Jungkook will solve their marital issues O.O

Drabbles for this AU! are open, sweet ones! My inbox is open to all of you who'd like to request a continuation or would like to see in-betweens of this story. Now, without further adieu, happy reading, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

What kind of caramel has a sour exterior yet a sweet centre? Is it worth the experience?

You sat in the passenger's seat while Jungkook drove to his parent's house. You were tense, he could sense it as well. From the begining you had tried to get along with your in-laws, something he thought was going pretty smoothly to be honest until Jungkook's mother crossed the line.

A silent gasp left your lips when Jungkook's hand rested atop your own. You looked at him only to marvel in his side profile.

"You are tense."

Your gaze lowered at his acknowledgement, you didn't want to speak just how much it bothered you had to go to his parent's residence in fear of making him angry or worse, to see you in a bad light you certainly weren't in.

His hand squeezed yours and you looked up at him only to meet his dark eyes for a second before his gaze returned to the front.

"I promise this is the last time we are going to my parent's house. I just need to sign some documents."

You leaned back on your seat, your eyes focused on the road as you let your mind wander around what had happened five days ago. You felt stupid to some point for doing Mrs. Jeon's will without consulting your husband. Not that you needed some kind of permission from him to do anything you pleased but more so as to include him in a decision that was going to affect the both of you as a married couple.

"I know, Kook."

You replied back in a soft voice, mind already lost in memories from that day and the following day you had lived next to your husband. The next morning after you told him your secret, Jungkook wasn't by your side and you felt how the world fell over you.

Fear took hold of you that moment, you could still remember how scared your had been when he wasn't in the bed, his side was also cold to the touch. You remember standing up in a rush, nearly tripping down with the sheets tangled in your body before you bolted out of the bedroom.

Jungkook was in the living room, his eyes lost in the horizon as the sun was painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange, pink and blue. He turned to look at you, his heart trembling at the distress drowning your (e/c) pools before he stood up and was quick to approach you.

You were in his arms the next second. Your face buried in his chest as you blinked back tears you didn't know had gathered in your waterline. Jungkook didn't say anything, he simply held you tighter when he felt you relax in his hold.

"You weren't in bed."

You said, matter-of-factly and he sighed, resting his chin at the top of your head.

"I woke up early, I didn't get much sleep."

You took a deep breath, inhaling in his scent, taking in his presence.

"I thought you had left."

The sound of your voice so fragile pulled at his heartstrings that a lump began forming in his throat. He pulled back only for one of his hands to cradle your cheek in his large palm while his eyes gazed into your own with countless emotions.

"Never. I could never leave your side."

You blinked and the memory dissipated from your mind like fog when the sun came out. You sighed, silently playing with Jungkook's fingers that were still in your hold, completely unaware of his soft smile upon your gentle touch.

"We are here."

His deep voice snapped you out of your little paradise where only you and your husband existed. He turned to look at you with gentle eyes that nearly melted you in your place. He smiled as if to comfort you; which it did.

"This won't take long, I promise."

You nodded before his hand left your own as he exited the car, making a sudden coldness invaded your body. You couldn't fully describe it but it felt as if your heart was enveloped around ice when you weren't near Jungkook, however the slightest touch or simple glance from him were enough to set you aflame.

He opened the door for you and you stepped out of the vehicle. His hand found home in between your fingers as he led you silently toward the front door.

"Young master, welcome."

Spoke the maid at the entrance. She bowed at Jungkook and you with stiff movements that made you take a deep breath. This is it. You thought to yourself as Jungkook gave the maid a simple nod before asking in his professional voice. He was here to deal business, nothing more, nothing less.

"Is my father in his study?"

"Yes, young master. He's waiting for you. Mrs. Jeon, would you like me to take your coat?"

You turned to look at the elegant maid with kind eyes yet your voice came firm as you spoke your next words.

"It's alright. We won't be here long anyway, but thank you."

The maid bowed down to both of you as Jungkook led you through the house and up the large staircase toward his father's study. His steps were determined, strong and confident. You followed next to him, your hand still clasped in his.

Jungkook had you as his equal in this situation were his future was on the line while you had him as support to the thorns that wanted to hurt your marriage with your sweet husband whom you loved so very much you feared your heart would explode with the amount of love you held for the man walking next to you.

The double doors were opened by two maids and you and Jungkook entered your father-in-law's studio hand in hand. Tension immediately rose in the room. You practically could cut it with a knife. Mr. Jeon stood up from his chair, a shiver ran down your spine but if it was due to the chilly room or the coldness of his eyes, you couldn't exactly tell.

"Welcome. This will be short, I only need you, Jungkook, to sign some papers and then this scandalous situation will be over."

You felt Jungkook's hand tighten around yours, his father's words spurring emotions in his heart he rather kept hidden. You squeezed his hand back in silent reassurance which made him physically relax a bit yet not completely.

"Where do I sign?"

Asked your husband in a detached voice. He was here for an entirely business deal. No emotion was carried by his voice and the tension rose once more in the room, like icicles trying to break the peace that surrounded your marriage with Jungkook.

Mr. Jeon sighed before his eyes lowered, his hands opened a file only for then to turn it upside down so that Jungkook was able to read it properly, he put an expensive black pen next to it and the coldness once more invaded the place.

Your husband let go of your hand as he walked toward the mahogany desk. His steps were large and precise, without hesitation. You found yourself admiring the control he had over his emotions, of his actions. Of how people viewed him. Even when he was in the presence of his own parents.

How sad it must have been for him to wear that mask required by society in front of his parents as well. It must have been tiring. The thought crossed your head before you could stop however, you came to notice how relaxed he was in his home with you. How domestic he appeared in your eyes. Then again, who said you weren't also wearing such a disguise?

You made eye contact with your father-in-law as the shuffling of paper echoed around the walls. You could read in his dark eyes the challenge he carried within him, the arrogance. The slight disappointment he had in Jungkook when he didn't divorce you. The frustration cursing through his veins was obvious to your eyes that only held love and support toward the man who had married you.

"So, according to this, I will no longer be the heir of the company?"

His father nodded, his hands clasped in front of him before he spoke in a monotonous tone.

"Yes, Jeon Enterprises will pass to your Cousin Marlene, I believe she is now in the States. She's already been notified of this."

Silence stretched in the room once more as your eyes focused on your husband. Your heart thumped in your chest ever so quickly you were scared the two men in the study could hear its frantic beating.

"You'll keep your current position but you'll work for us. Are you sure you want to do this, Jungkook?"

But your husband paid him no mind. He wasn't going to be controlled like a puppet. Not anymore. Not when his future, you, were on the line. Never. Jungkook signed the documents, the scraping of the pen over the paper reached your ears and your heart fluttered at his actions.

Jungkook put the pen aside and straightened back to his full height. His eyes pierced those of his father with no emotion at all.

"If that is all then we'll be on our way. My wife and I already have plans."

The older man let out a deep sigh, looking at his son with melancholy or disappointment, you really couldn't tell. Butterflies flew in your stomach when Jungkook called you like that. "My wife." His. You were his just as he was yours. Tangled with the ribbon of fate and tied with a knot of love.

"I'll let you know if there's anything more but for now, that is all."

Jungkook nodded, turning around and when his back was towards his father, he offered you a soft smile. Kind in its nature. Happy in its existence. You smiled back as he walked to you and his hand found home around yours.

"Let's go."

And with that, he led you outside of the study and through the hallway. Mr. Jeon was left in his expensive and luxurious study, pondering if what he had done had been the right decision. It wasn't his fault Jungkook had fallen in love with you and it wasn't your fault that you were sterile. Was it really worth it to discard the company from his son's rightful heritage only for a drama his wife made?

But there was no turning back. There was nothing to be done if he were to feel guilty about his choice. Because as the owner of Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook's father had in him the power to leave the company to whoever he pleased. Was it really worth it?

"Jungkook."

Mrs. Jeon spoke as she stood next to the large staircase. Her piercing eyes went from Jungkook to you and back to him. You squeezed your husband's hand in reassurance. You were next to him, just like every future time he'll have to face anything, you'll stand next to him as his wife.

"Mother."

You felt how the tension rose once more between mother and son and you straightened your back before saying in a steady voice.

"If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Jeon, there's an appointment we need to attend to. I hope we'll meet again under better circumstances."

She eyes you up and down and you feel how she scrutinised you with her gaze alone. But you weren't going to back down. You had your husband next to you and he had you as well. You sent her a polite smile and she nodded in a stiff manner before you turned to the staircase and pulled on your joined hands with Jungkook before he followed you down the marble stairs with his mother's eyes piercing the top of your head as if she could burn you with her anger cursing through her veins.

"You will regret this, Jungkook! You'll regret it for the rest of your life!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. Jungkook didn't need their fame, he didn't need their support anymore and there was no point in keeping a relationship with the people who brought him to this world if it was going to be so toxic he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore.

He had you know. Your presence, your existence was like a new and fresh breeze on a spring day. You brought him hope, you gave him your heart and with it, your love. Your trust. Your life was in his hands. Just as he had given you his heart ever so willingly; without an ounce of hesitation in his actions, in his words, in his thoughts about you. His lover. His wife. His (y/n).

You stood in the lift as it went up to your shared apartment. Your hand was held in Jungkook's larger palm as his thumb ran delicate circles over your knuckles.

You still were surprised at how easily he had given up on his inheritance because of you. Because he loved you. Because he wanted you. He cherished you and gave you your place as his wife. You didn't doubt you would have done the same had you been in his shoes.

The feeling of your heart thumping against your chest for the man you had married made you smile softly. At him. At his love. At what had been built between you both where nothing existed, not a castle stood. A castle of love.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jungkook's hand squeezed yours in an involuntary way but it made your cheeks heat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The both of you walked out of the lift hand in hand and down the large corridor that led to your shared apartment.

When you two rounded a corner, you had to suppress a gasp as you nearly collided with two other men who were walking at a fast pace from the other end of the corridor. You recognised them vaguely, as if you had seen them before but couldn't quite place where. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook tensed ever so slightly at the sight of his friends and coworkers.

"Jimin, Namjoon. What are you both doing here?"

Now you knew where you had seen them. Both Jimin and Namjoon had attended the small wedding ceremony between you and Jungkook nearly a year ago.

"I... well, you see-"

"We visited a friend, Kook. I'm glad to see you, you haven't been at the company for some time now."

The shorter one spoke. Jimin, you remembered his name was Jimin. The man had a pleasing smile over his plump lips and you also noticed he had recently dyed his hair a sandy shade of blond that suited him perfectly.

Jungkook nodded, eyes going from Namjoon to Jimin and then back again.

"How are you, Mrs. Jeon? We haven't seen you since forever."

Spoke Namjoon and you smiled. Reminiscing how you both had shared talks about different books and art, you being a writer yourself he valued your opinion greatly.

"I've been fine, Namjoon. Thanks for asking, I hope everything's going well at the company?"

Your question made them nod and Jungkook bit his lip, this interaction was lasting more than it should have. To begin with, it shouldn't have occurred in the first place. This could totally ruin Jungkook's plans to spend the evening with you.

"Oh, yes. Please don't worry about that but do tell Jungkook here to stop pestering us about the monthly reports already! We have a big loan already!"

You couldn't help but laugh at Jimin's comment, the sound resonating across the walls. Jungkook sighed loudly, visibly irritated by his friends who teased him in front of you.

"Yeah well, keep going like this and there'll be no salary increase for you both."

Jungkook began walking once more, tugging on your joined hands as you laughed out loud at the scared face Namjoon made and the eye roll from Jimin.

"See you guys around!"

You were able to say that before Jungkook dragged you into the apartment and closed the door behind him leaving Jimin and Namjoon standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Do you think he'll do it?"

Asked the taller man as they both began walking down the hall and towards the lifts. His hands shoved into his trouser pockets and a relaxed expression over his face.

"He better do it."

Jimin pressed the button to go to the ground floor, a hand running over his hair as he frowned slightly.

"He better do it, hyung, or I swear I'll kill him."

Namjoon laughed and the elevator's doors closed. Leaving behind nothing but silence in the empty hallway.

Jungkook had taken your coat from you before he had disappeared into the kitchen saying he was thirsty. You sighed in content as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on the entrance table before you walked away from the door wearing your comfortable slippers.

"Kook?"

You asked, but he wasn't in the kitchen and you frowned at his absence. Silence engulfed the flat and you walked to the living room and the dining room but he wasn't there.

"He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air, now can he?!

You muttered to yourself as your feet carried you to your shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so you pushed it with your palm and gasped at what you saw inside.

"I thought it would take you longer to come here."

Jungkook said and you stepped forward, eyes roaming around the bedroom. The curtains were pulled to the sides, the mesmerising sunset painting the sky tinted the room in a soft orange hue it warmed your heart instantly.

There were red rose petals on the ground, and the bed was dressed in black sheets with white petals on it. Transparent balloons filled the ceiling as they floated up and you couldn't help the smile that graced your lips.

"Kook, what's this?"

He walked over to you, standing at arm's length as his eyes lost themselves in your own. His heart was beating wildly in his chest; he feared you could hear it. His hands were behind his back as he looked down at you.

"Jimin and Namjoon took longer than anticipated."

You laughed, so that was why Namjoon seemed so nervous at the beginning. The sound of your laughter made butterflies swirl in his stomach, the sight of you, bathed in the golden light of the sun, smiling up at him was enough to send him to heaven.

"(y/n),"

How delicious it was to hear your name coming out of his lips. You looked at him with a soft gaze he thought he'd melt right then and there.

"my beautiful wife."

You blushed at the compliment, breaking eye contact as you looked down in a futile attempt at hiding your flustered state. He chuckled, finding the situation so beautiful in its own existence. Wishing he could frame this precise moment and look at it forever.

His hands untangled themselves from behind his back, one was shoved into his trouser pocket while the other lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers. The moment your eyes met his once more, you felt like melting against him. It was perfect.

"I love you so much, sweet one. So, so much."

You swallowed, feeling his words through your heart as it skipped a beat.

"I love you as well, Jungkook. With all my heart."

He smiled. the bunny smile you loved so much. That smile that was the source of your happiness. That smile that was only his.

"We have faced so many things together."

His hand moved and cradled your cheek, the touch burning you while freezing you in your spot at the same time. You wanted him. In every sense of the word. He did things to you that you had never felt before. He made you feel loved like no-one else had done, he made you feel cherished, wanted, needed. And you could only hope he felt the same way. Because you loved him, you cherished him, you wanted him and needed him just as much.

"I wish we had met under different circumstances but that doesn't mean I am not grateful for what he has grown to be as a couple."

Your hand came up and covered the once that cradled your cheek, your hand over his sending tingles all over his arm and to his body he felt fuzzy, happy to just be with you. To just have you in this moment, exactly like this.

"I have grown to care for you like I have never cared for another woman in my life, (y/n). You are everything to me. Everything, sweetheart. I cannot imagine my life without you."

Your eyes began to water at the sweet words dripping from his lips. Coated in sugar, meant to wash away the sour taste left behind by life itself.

He sighed and took a step back, his hand left your cheek and you instantly felt cold at the loss of his touch. Jungkook looked at you with soft brown and big eyes before he knelt down on one knee. His right hand picked up a small box from his trouser's pocket and you nearly gasped when he opened it.

"We are already married and the promises I made to you on our wedding day are still fresh on my mind. I will fulfil them as my duty to you as a husband but this ring, love, this ring is a promise to you as your lover."

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling as a little tear rolled down your cheek at his words.

"I promise to love you until my last breath. I promise to cherish you as my wife. You will never need anything, your desires are my commands, (y/n). You rule my heart like a Queen rules her kingdom. Now, I ask you with all the sincerity in this world: will you love me as well?"

A sob escaped your lips before your hands went up to cover your mouth. You nodded fiercely as you tried to wipe your tears away. He smiled, standing up and taking the ring out of the small velvety box. His larger hand took your left one and he slid the ring on top of your wedding band. A seal to his love. The two rings even matched.

"Yes. A million times yes. I love you, Jungkook. I love you with all I have in me, with everything. Forever."

The next moment, his lips were on yours. Your hands rested on his shoulders as he cradled your face, his lips dancing with yours in the steps of love.

The kiss was sweet. As sweet as sugar. You poured all the love, all the longing, all the desire into that kiss while Jungkook let his emotions flow into that single act of love. He allowed you to feel how his heart beat for you, how his mind wouldn't stop thinking about you and how his hand itched to touch you.

Your hands ran to the back of his neck before they were running through his dark locks. A soft groan escaped his throat when you tugged on his hair slightly. You moaned as his hands slid down your cheek and towards your waist, pressing you against him.

Passion bloomed in that moment. Starting with a sweet kiss and ending with the promise of eternal love.

Jungkook guided you to the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and he pushed you down on the mattress gently, hovering over you without breaking the kiss.

Perhaps sour caramels do have sweet centres after all.

As sweet as sugar. As sweet as love. As sweet as life.

Combined into a sweet marriage of eternal devotion and beautiful love.

~Masterpost

March/03/2024

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

Drabbles are open for this AU!

137 notes · View notes

abibliophobiaa · 10 months

Text

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Seven: Better Together

a/n: here’s chapter seven of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, fingering, and a whole lot of praise. (7k words)

masterlist

——

Life returns to normal after the gala. Or—mostly normal. You wake in the mornings, greet your husband as he sips his coffee, and you…don’t kiss. And it’s not like you don’t want to; in fact, you do. Really, really badly. One time isn’t enough. Suddenly you’re addicted to the taste of him, and yet you’ve only gotten the smallest hint. A tease at what could be.

When you returned to your home after the gala, Charlie greeted you both at the door with a bark and a demand for endless pets and cuddles. You’d curled up on the couch as always, you in your dress and him in his tuxedo, with Charlie sprawled out across both your laps.

Both of you had taken turns looking at one another when you’d thought the other wasn’t paying attention. Would watch Steve’s profile, count the dots on his skin, wonder if he’d lean in if you traced them with your mouth. Wondered what sound he’d make if you ventured further, southward against his neck, and trailed the marks you knew were there as well. And as you’d look down at Charlie, Steve would look at you, watching as though you were far more entertaining than any movie he’d put on.

Later that evening he’d stood by your doorway and thanked you for joining him that afternoon, leaned down and kissed your forehead, and you’d slipped into your bedroom and changed. When you returned, he remained at your bedroom door, mouth opened to speak to say something, anything, and yet no words had come out. Only the sounds of his struggle.

So you stepped forward and curled your arms around his waist. Thanked him for a beautiful night, for dancing with you, for being there for you. And then you’d closed your bedroom door and listened as Steve called Charlie into his bedroom, your own hand reaching over your bed side table to shut the lights off, enveloping the room in darkness.

It carried on like that for days.

Then weeks.

You wondered if Steve regretted it all.

——

Steve hated meetings. The endless meetings. Meetings that kept him away from home, away from comfortability, away from Charlie, away from you.

It’s a reality that crept upon him slowly, and then swiftly all at once. This realization that he’d rather jump and fall with you than never have taken a risk and jumped at all. Found himself willing to do all of that with you. Trusted you enough to be gentle with him, even despite all your teasing, your jabs, your barbs.

But now he wants to make sure you know just what this all means to him. Wants to make sure you don’t go a day without knowing that, even though his life is in a constant state of immediacy and pressure from those around him, you’re important. You’re deserving of feeling loved, appreciated, and valued every day.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Harrington,” Hailey, his assistant, asks from behind her computer screen.

“Can you have flowers sent to my address?”

There’s a knowing smile on her face as she asks, “For your wife?”

“For my wife,” he says, and though it’s been your title for months now, it makes his mouth run dry, because there’s the deeper meaning of possibly more now.

What exactly that more might be is still to be determined, but more nonetheless.

“Red roses are nice this time of year,” she muses. “Do you want me to have a card written out as well?”

——

Honey,

I’m sorry I’ve been so holed up with work. With the holidays coming up, things are extra chaotic. I know you’ve been really wanting a spa and nail day for yourself, so I made you an appointment for three tomorrow. Before you argue with me, you deserve it. Please. For me?

The card is signed at the bottom with ‘your husband,’ and you nearly crush the card stock to your chest, smiling down at the bouquet of fresh roses you’ve already set on your kitchen table.

Charlie lifts his head, collar jingling as he clambers to his feet and stops near your hip. Dropping down to your knees, you rub at his floppy ears, grin still stretching your lips.

“Charlie Boy, you really do have the best doggy dad.” He licks at your chin, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as you giggle airily. “We are pretty lucky, aren’t we?”

——

By the time you return from your massage and nail appointment, and the private elevator leading to the penthouse dings, your home already smells wonderful. And the sight that greets you—even better.

Steve’s frantically running around the kitchen, calling out, “Honey, you’re early!”

“What is happening here?” You walk into the kitchen, a little mystified as Steve rushes forward and brushes a kiss along your temple, your hand coming up to rest on his sternum in wide eyed shock. He’s already set up the kitchen table, wine glasses filled with red wine, candles lit, placemats set out and the dishes you got from your bridal shower on display. “Flowers and dinner?”

“It was supposed to be ready by the time you got home. But Charlie was acting up on his walk. I looked into those puppy training classes, but I want to go to one where I can be there with him.” He pauses, laying the towel he has draped over his shoulder onto the countertop, pulling you into your normal hug whenever you come home from quite literally anywhere. “I thought…well, I know I’ve been busy, and we haven’t exactly had a chance to spend much time together. So I figured I’d make us dinner and we could eat it, you know, together.”

You glance up at him through your lashes, noting the hand that comes up behind his neck to rub nervously. “With candles?”

“So I thought it could also—but only if you want it to—be a…date?”

“We’re married,” you point out, wanting to watch him squirm just a little bit more. Because you know what he means.

“We are, yeah. But…I figured after the gala there were some tougher conversations we might need to have. Unless you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, which in that case I understand—”

He’s silenced by your hand gliding up and across his chest, curling at the nape of his neck, and dragging him flush against you, lips gliding softly over his own. When you pull back, his eyes flutter rapidly, tops of his cheeks staining the same color of the fresh tomatoes he has open in a container on the kitchen counter.

Brow arching, your fingers still around the back of his neck, you ask, “Need further clarification?”

“Maybe?”

He swallows, curling an arm around the small of your back. He noses at your cheek, your skin prickling in anticipation as he slots his lips over yours again. Warm, gentle, inviting. A sigh spills from you as your pocketbook drops to the ground, your other hand joining the one around Steve’s neck, chests closing in tight, hips flush together.

“Steve…you made me dinner,” you muse, smiling as his forehead rests against yours, swaying you back and forth to the music he is playing from a speaker on the countertop.

The backs of his knuckles brush the line of your temple, your cheek. “I’ve made you dinner before.”

“But not like this. With all the wine and candles.”

“Well, I was trying to make a grand gesture.”

“Just like with my little spa day?” Your heart kicks up at that. Threatens to grow wings and fly away. Because he’s gone out of the way to do this. For you—for you.

“Yes,” he admits. “I’m—I haven’t done this in a long time. I had to ask my assistant for some tips, so I hope you’ll go easy on me.”

He’s laughing, but you know Steve. You know he means his words. Know enough about him to tell that when he makes a decision, he commits to it, wants to go above and beyond, and works his hardest at it. So when he says he wanted to make a grand gesture, that he even sought out outside advice, you know he’s sincere.

And you know whatever this is, whatever is brewing between the two of you, is delicate. It needs the space to grow, to be nurtured and tended to, if only so it can bloom into all it’s meant to be. If it’s meant to be.

“Well, you’re doing amazingly,” you tell him, hands sliding down from the back of his neck to rest against his chest.

The rapid thump of his heart beats beneath your fingertips, not wholly unaffected by the newness of touch, of…whatever new shape your marriage is beginning to take on. His fingers slide over the back of yours, brushing over your knuckles, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that has your throat running dry.

That is, until Charlie notes your presence and barrels into the kitchen, paws slamming into your hip, demanding a proper hug. There to oblige him, you brush at his floppy ears, your side to Steve’s chest, one of his arms around you, the other also ruffling Charlie’s floppy head, pink puppy tongue lapping over unassuming fingers. Once the little guy is satisfied, you maneuver around Steve and tug your rings free from your finger, quickly washing your hands before sliding them back into place.

Steve watches you intently as you wiggle the stones into place on the digit, admiring them for a moment. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“If I’d known we were having dinner by candlelight, I’d have worn something a little nicer,” you tell him, waving a hand around your figure, to the pair of dark wash jeans on your thighs and the slouchy knit sweater that hangs a little loosely off of one shoulder. All gifts from your mother-in-law’s business.

He's still wearing his slacks, having had to go to a job site despite it being Saturday and your favorite powdery blue button up he wears. Brings out the greenness in his hazel eyes, a fact you only know because that spill you’d taken on the treadmill some weeks ago now, and the kiss at the gala, where you’d gazed into them long after he kissed you, marveling at the man.

“You look perfect,” he reassures you, gripping your shoulders and leading you into the living room. “Dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes, so you kick your feet up, I already put out your slippers and some of your cozy socks you like. And give me one second and I’ll grab you your glass of water. Oh—and here’s a blanket.”

“Steve.” You laugh as your husband whirls around you like a storm, gathering all the things he mentions as he goes. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“No, no.” He rushes back over with your water and places it in your hand. “You just relax.”

And you’re not about to argue with your husband. Not when he looks like this, hair windswept, facial hair freshly trimmed, forearms on full display because he’s spent the better part of the afternoon preparing a home cooked meal for you. For your date night.

True to his word, your meal is ready a half hour later, his form appearing before you, one hand outstretched for you to take. He helps you to your feet, making room for you at his side, and walks you the distance to your kitchen table. He’s dimmed the lights a bit more, the candle on the table bathing the room in an orange firelight. The man in question slides your chair out and gestures for you to sit despite your protesting, and pushes you in closer to the table once you’ve sat.

He then rushes around to the other side of the table and sits across from you, gesturing to the various things he has strewn about on the table.

Your bowls are already full of fresh spaghetti, sauce just the way you prefer. There are meatballs in one glass container, and cheese in another bowl beside. He’s even made garlic bread, which rests in a little basket you’d received for your bridal shower. Everything smells delicious, makes your mouth water as you lift your wine glass and raise it in the air, waiting for Steve to clink his glass against yours.

“This all looks and smells so amazing, Steve. Seriously.”

Grateful. You’re immensely grateful as the two of you start to dig into your meals, quiet chatter about your days shared over glasses of wine, spaghetti, and delicious garlic bread. He talks about the newest build on a property, and you explain your week of clinicals ahead, and the desire for your Thanksgiving break to finally approach so you can have some real time to simply relax and just be.

“That reminds me,” he begins, sipping his water. “My mom is doing Thanksgiving at her house this year. It’ll be a small event. Just my grandmother and Theobald, Cami and their kids. Unless we wanted to go back to Hawkins? It’s really up to you…I haven’t told my mom our plans.”

“My dad and Caroline are actually going to spend the weekend with my grandmother. I figured we would be doing something with your family, so I told my dad we’d be around for the holidays at some point—if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely,” he says, brushing his fingers over yours where they lay interlaced in the middle of the table. “Splitting the holidays. That was easy enough.”

“We’re getting good at this, Harrington,” you tease.

“That was my next…topic of conversation.” The status of your relationship. The questions as to what this is and isn’t. The decisions of where you go from here.

“Right.” You place your fork down against your bowl, swallowing thickly. “So there was the gala.”

“That happened.” His fingers brush yours again, a comforting sweep. Back and forth, back and forth, like a sweet little metronome. “So I guess the question is…what do we want it to mean? Because I want to start by making it clear to you that I do, uh, have feelings for you.”

Chest tightening, you grip his fingers tighter, feeling the corners of your smile tick upwards. “I have feelings for you too. So…now that we have that out of the way…”

“I want to do more of this. Buying you flowers and going out together alone. On real dates. No business obligations attached. Just spending time with you, getting to know you, exploring this.”

“I’d like that.”

“And I want to do this,” he says, squeezing your fingers. Then, he leans over the top of the table to brush your lips briefly with his mouth. “And that, if you’d like to.”

Your eyes flutter open, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’m…very open to all of that.”

“We don’t complicate it with more labels.”

“We just let things happen the way they’re meant to.”

Let the pieces fall where they may. Without the pressure of placing any expectation on it. Exploring the parameters of your relationship while legally married, knowing either way at the end of it all you can go your separate ways. It’s a terrifying risk, but you know in your heart it’s worth it to at least try.

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like a deal, Mr. Harrington. We should shake on it.” He holds out his hand between the two of you jokingly, but you’re leaning in once more, breath teasing along his lower lip, and he knows you’re not interested in sealing this deal with a mere handshake. Instead, you seal it with a kiss, resting in the warmth of his skin against your own.

A little breathless when he pulls away, Steve whispers, “Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Harrington.”

——

You’re no expert on Steve Harrington. Not by any means, even after the five months you’ve now been married. Since the moment you decide to begin a real relationship, you start to really explore the intricacies of your husband. He’s a morning person, he likes things a certain way, and he can tend to get flustered easily—though he won’t let it show. You can still sense it in the tension in his shoulders, the furrow of his brows, the clench of his jaw. And today, as you sit on your living room couch with Charlie’s head resting on your thigh, and a book on the other, you sense it in the way he walks into your home with a hollow stare.

The way he buries his face in Charlie’s neck as he enters the living room and the puppy knocks him onto the ground. The way his eyes are red rimmed as he finally extricates himself from the flailing set of paws on the ground and makes his way over to where you sit, kissing you in greeting. Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, tilting his head to look at him—to really look at him. His cheeks are damp, and your heart nearly cracks down the center at the implication there.

Briefly, you imagine your husband’s forearms straining as he grips the steering wheel in his car. Imagine the tears he must have hid in his car before coming up to see you. Because he hadn’t wanted you to see. Not really. Always so bright and loving, always so strong for you.

“Steve?” It comes out as a whisper, and he’s turning his head from you, his breath a shaky inhale as he tips his head to the ceiling. “Are you—”

“I’m going to go get ready for bed. Long day, I just want to get to bed early. Rain check on our movie?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, frown growing. “Sure.”

He’s gone. Disappears from the room without another word, leaving you in the solitude of the unknowing. The wondering if he’s okay, what he’s thinking, if there’s anything you can do to help improve his mood. With the click of his bedroom door in the distance, you try to focus on your book, on the television playing in the background, on Charlie’s breathing. But the longer you go without him, the more you fret. Wanting to be near him, if only to be there as a presence, as something who cares for the brooding man down the hall.

Resolve settling into place, you toss your things into the kitchen sink and make your way down the hall, gather some clothes to change into for bed, and pause when you arrive in front of Steve’s bedroom. Nervous knuckles hover over the doorway, knocking twice—and then linger. Wait as silence drapes over the room, leaving your heart to race within your chest.

“Steve…?” You call out his name into the silence, voice a little wobbly. Nervousness ebbs and flows as the silence prolongs. As you’re met with nothing but your own breathing to keep you company.

And then, very quietly, “Yeah, baby?”

The newness of the title sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You push it away, wanting more so right now to comfort the man inside than anything else. Fingers curl around the door handle, pushing it open just enough to see the man laying there in a pair of sweatpants, room chilly from the central air, bare chest on display. His hair is in disarray, face freshly washed, hair still damp from his shower. There’s the slightest hint of his vanilla shampoo in the air, a comforting sugary sweetness synonymous with your husband.

“Can I…can I come in?” The door opens a little wider, leaving room for Charlie to prance on in, settling himself on the doggy bed in the far corner of the spacious room.

Steve lets out a long sigh, fingers curled around his phone moving to place the device on his bedside table. He slides his glasses off his face next, popping them into his glasses container, before settling back down against the fluffy pillows and offering you the slightest hint of a smile.

“Sure,” he says, a little softly, a little strained.

Heart dropping into your stomach, you glance down at the small heap of clothes in your hand, and then to the adjoined bathroom. “Do you mind if I—”

Processing your question, he shakes his head, seemingly a little faraway from you. “No, yeah. Please.”

Without another word, you slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a gentle click. A long exhale spills from your lips. Dressing quickly, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Thin sweatpants, a comfortable hoodie, face freshly washed and dried. Satisfied, you toss your clothes into the nearby hamper and slip out of the bathroom, wandering over to the side of the bed. Brows raising imploringly, Steve lifts the edge of the comforter in answer, allowing you to crawl into the space he’s created with his body.

You choose the pillow beside him. Close enough where you can feel his heat, can run your fingers along the side of his body if you wish, could lace your fingers through his. But you’re not crossing the proverbial pillow wall unless he gives permission to do so. As much as you want to.

“Did something happen at work?” you ask him, smiling as his hand reaches over and brushes along the back of your forearm.

“Just the usual. People think I’m…too young to really know what I’m talking about. Anything that goes wrong is thrown at me, and I get those looks of disappointment. And I just think if only my dad were here. If only he were here, I’d know what to do. But I don’t. I don’t and then Theo looks at me like he’s so happy to see me fucking it all up. Because that will have meant he was right.”

“That he was right?” Your head shifts on the pillow, eyes flickering up to his as he angled his head a bit and takes in the sight of your face in the dimly lit bedroom.

Shifting, he rolls over onto his side, head resting on the pillow mere inches from yours. His hands settle beside yours, his fingers brushing along the backs of yours, gently lacing them together after a moment, squeezing tight. “That I’m not ready. That I wasn’t ready. That the company should have gone to him.”

“But that’s not true, Steve. You’re a hard worker. I know you are. You sacrifice so much for everyone, even me, and they have to see all of that. They have to. No one is perfect—not all the time, anyway.” He leans into your touch, your free hand having come up in the middle of your speech to rest over the stubbly cheek of your husband.

“Thank you,” he whispers, turning just enough to press a kiss into the center of your palm. Your skin tingles in answer, smile warming your cheeks.

“Always, Steve. Always. You’re there for me, I’m there for you. It’s an even exchange.”

“You know, Theo hates me because he spent years training under my father. He spent all that time thinking the company would be going to him one day. And…I honestly thought that, too. I was shocked when I saw my name.” He pauses, mouth flattening into a straight line. Your thumb glides over his stubbly cheek once more, encouraging him to continue. “The company should have gone to him. But it didn’t. So I thought maybe my dad saw something in me that I didn’t. But every time I fuck it all up, I can just picture the face he always made when I did something wrong, and I always hated when he looked at me like that.”

“When he looked at you like what?”

“Like I was a disappointment.”

And there it is. The words that immediately wedge a knife into your heart for him. The thought of a younger Steve, wanting his father to see him for him. Not for what he could do for the company, not what he lacked, but merely for being his son. The youngest Harrington. A child to a man who expected so much of him. Placed him on a pedestal he’d never been meant to stand on, only to watch him fail time and time again in the eyes of someone who never would be happy. Not really.

“You are not a disappointment.” The vehemence in your voice shocks you. But the anger brimming in your blood is not for the man lying beside you. No, it’s for the man who no longer resides on this side of earth, and yet has engraved years of doubt within your husband’s heart.

“You’re biased.” He sighs, breaking off into a laugh. At the quick shake of your head, he continues, “It’s silly, maybe, but I thought maybe if I could just do right by the company, my father would finally be proud of me from wherever he is now.”

“Steve…” Your body burrows closer to his, sighing as an arm slides low along your waist. Pulls you closer. Close enough where you can wrap your arms around him and press your cheek into his collarbone.

He exhales deeply. “We never had a close relationship. My parents were a bit older when they had me. His form of love was a stern yell when I got a C in class instead of an A. Or pointing out every bad swing in baseball, because ‘Harrington’s are winners.’ It was only when I got older we talked more, and I think that was more so because once I was old enough to, he expected me to work for him. So I was more a worker than a son.”

“You just wanted him to notice you.” And that breaks your heart. Makes your eyes burn in a way that has you sniffing loudly.

“Silly, right?” His chest shakes with the rasp in his voice, and you grant him the privacy of his emotions, keeping your face pressed tight against his chest as he heaves with the weight of it all.

“Not at all. You shouldn’t have ever had to fight for his love. No child should. You’re his son. That should mean everything. I’m so sorry.”

“My mom and I really only got closer when he passed. I think she realized I’m really all she has left. And I wanted to resent her for it, be mad that it took him dying for her to notice me, you know? But I couldn’t.”

Sighing, you run your hands up and down the lines of his hard back, smiling to yourself when he relaxes further into your embrace. “It’s not a bad thing to want to be loved by the people who should love you the most.” Leaning back a bit to look in his eyes, you catch the softness there. Note the way his eyes flicker from your eyes and downward to your lips, then drift back up again. “We crave it as humans. And you have such a big heart, Steve. I’m not surprised you were able to be open to her, even after all the years of hurt you must have experienced.”

Huffing, he leans his forehead against yours. “You’re being too nice.”

“I am nice, Steve. I’m only partially serious when I joke about killing you in your sleep.”

That has him smiling. And though it’s only been gone a little while, you’ve missed it dearly.

His next question has you stilling within his arms. “Will you…stay?”

“In your bed? With you?”

“No, with your other husband.” He chuckles, shifting you so you sprawl out onto his blankets beneath him, giggling as his nose nudges yours.

“I have another husband?” you ask, just as his lips ever so softly coast over yours, breaking off at the first wiggle of his fingers along the span of your ribcage. Like this, you wriggle and writhe beneath him. Like this, you feel every inch of him along every inch of you. Hard lines against your softer ones. His hips against yours, his lips at your shoulder, your sides jolting with your laughter, limbs kicking out wildly to try and stop him. “Stop, stop—yes! But no pillow wall like in the Maldives.”

He leans down, and you reach up enough to kiss him. “No pillow wall. I might cuddle you, if that’s okay?”

“I'm kind of hoping you do,” you tease, rolling over onto your side as he reaches over and shuts the light, shrouding you both in impenetrable darkness.

Steve settles in beside you. Unlike in the Maldives, he doesn’t begin stacking an endless row of pillows to create a divider. No, this time he comes in close, his chest along your back. Arms looping tight around your waist, pulling you in as close as possible. Legs tangle together beneath bed sheets, fingers twine over where they rest along your midsection.

It’s quiet for a time. And then, “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?” He lets you know he’s awake with a kiss at your shoulder.

Giving his hand a quick squeeze, you whisper. “You’re a good man. I’m proud of you, and I know that might not count for much, but I am so proud of you.”

“No. No. That does mean a lot.”

“Goodnight.”

There’s another pause. Then, “Hey, Steve?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“I'm tired.” He practically moans it in your ear, face pressing into your neck. Your cheeks warm from the proximity.

“Guess no kiss before bed then.” A pout lines your lips, though you know he cannot see it.

“Fine, fine, fine I’m up.”

“Nope, now I’m tired,” you sigh, nuzzling deeper into the endless pillows on your husband’s bed.

“Get over here.” He grunts, shifting up onto his elbows. There’s barely a moment to argue, for his fingers curl around the base of your cheek and bring your face closer to his.

His mouth is warm, welcoming, and lovely before bed, you decide, eyes fluttering closed.

“Mmm,” you hum, cheeks hurting from how hard you smile as he flops back over onto his side and makes himself comfortable once more.

“Goodnight,” he says, and you can feel his smile against the curve of your jaw.

“Goodnight.”

——

With Thanksgiving about a week away, your husband becomes nearly nonexistent. He’s there, in your home, but only in the early mornings and late at night when you’re already about to fall asleep in his bed.

His bed, because that’s where you've slept for the past however many days have passed since the first time. It’s been this unspoken thing between the two of you. Be it drawing comfort in one another, wanting the nearness of another human, or just purely wanting to be held—you don’t argue.

In fact, you quite like waking up in his arms. Two people who fold themselves so tight around one another in their sleep. Bodies that seek comfort and warmth, crave it, and hold it close.

But that’s truly the only time you’ve seen him as of late. Those fleeting moments when he kisses you while you’re still in bed in the morning, and then at night just as he’s about to shut the light out for the night.

Which is why when you find him sitting in his office before work one morning, his elbows on the desk, head in his hands, you decide to take matters into your own hands to spend time with the man. Upon clearing your throat, his head tips up, eyes catching on the long tee shirt that covers your cotton shorts beneath. The hem line brushes the tops of your thighs with every step closer to him, hinting at skin that lingers beneath, coaxing him backward in his chair. His glasses are a flash of gold in the light as you clamber down onto his lap, resting your hands on his biceps, beaming down at him.

“Hi,” you whisper, biting at your bottom lip.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumbing at the curve of your hips, pads of his fingers against delicate flesh.

“Been working long?”

“Few hours, yeah,” he grumbles, hooking his chin over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist and press your forehead into his neck. The fingers on your hips slide up your back, trailing up and down gently, eliciting chills along your frame. “Sorry if I woke you.”

His head shifts, mouth teasing at the curve of your throat, lips tilting upward into a smirk at the little sigh that spills out on his own volition from your lips. Curious hands trail down your back, sliding over the curve of your thigh, the hinge of your hip, the soft of your tummy. Another sigh fills the quiet room, and those fingers tease at the edge of your ribcage, the sides of your waist, the curve of your sports bra.

“You’re being sneaky,” he says, breath hot against your ear, fingers spread over the dip of your waist. At your questioning hum, he chuckles, “Distracting me from work.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” you huff out, leaning back in his arms, fingers toying with the hem of his thin sweater he’d fallen asleep in. “I just wanted to spend some time with you before you went to work. Come on now, let me get some coffee for you before you go into the office, Mr. Harrington.”

His eyes roll at your teasing nickname, hand curling around your own as you rise from his lap and lead him out of the office. As you enter the kitchen, Charlie’s sleepy head raises from his paws, before he plops back down in a sleepy heap, legs and paws splayed out in front of him.

Steve remains nearby as you get to work on making your coffees, slipping in and out of the living room just long enough to gather some of the things he’ll need for his work day. Yours iced, caramel drizzled on the inside of the cup in preparation, and Steve’s ‘Dog Dad’ mug laid out on the counter (a gift you’d gotten him as a joke, but he loved it so much he kept it and insisted on using it every morning).

You catch him slipping on a button down shirt out of the corner of your eye, his necktie already hanging limply around his shoulders. Noting his struggle, you wander over to stand in front of him, grappling with the fabric, stilling him in his movements.

His forehead brushes yours, your voice quiet as you say, “You feeling okay? You’re feeling a little warm.”

“Just tired,” he says, thumbing at your bottom lip. “Just a couple more days and then I’ll have some time off.”

“Let me?” you ask, fingers winding in the tie.

He dips his head, watching you with those dark eyes as you maneuver the fabric around, twining this way and that, before pulling it flush against his throat. His neck bobs as you linger there, holding him nearer to you, tugging teasingly. He leans down, breath skittering across your lips as he asks for your permission.

In answering, you tug onto the tie and pull him down to you, your backside thumping against the kitchen counters as he crowds you against them, hands on your hips, gripping tight. Hot. Fervent and heated is his mouth as he claims your lips in the middle of your kitchen, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, tongue gliding across your bottom lip until you part for him with a pretty sigh.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips and teeth coasting down your cheek, along your neck, against your shoulder as you hop up onto the kitchen counter with his help, ankles curling around his waist to pull him flush against your center. “Baby…I have to…I should…”

But he’s gripping your thigh. Sliding it further open so he can press himself closer, fingers trailing along bare skin, eliciting shivers in their wake. Up and down, up and down, he trails them. Watches your face the whole time, catches the pinch of your bottom lip between your teeth, the whimper you let out as those fingers roam dangerously close to where you ache for him to touch.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. Breathes the words along the hollow of your ear. Presses a kiss below it a moment later as you nod, nearly bucking into his hand as his fingers toy with the hemline of your shorts, then along the cotton panties. “Honey, I need your words. Do you want me to touch you?” Another kiss, this time along the curve of your neck, tongue lathing sensitive skin. Heat burns low in your belly; throbs lower still, where you can already feel yourself embarrassingly wet for the man. “Want my fingers, sweetheart? Is that what you want?”

His eyes are molten as they meet yours. Liquified honey and caramel as you nod, his lips swallowing your moan at the first slide of his fingers through your slick center. “Steve…ah…work,” you pant, eyes halting on the clock staring at you across the way, and then dropping down to the forearm you’re presently clutching tight, watching the muscles there ripple as he circles your clit, testing your reactions, learning what you like. And he’s an expert, and you want to go back in time and erase every other partner who may have come before in a momentary burst of jealousy, before catching on his ringed finger where it lays against your other thigh, holding fast.

“You're gonna be a good girl and come for me then so I’m not late?” he asks, groaning into your open mouth as you tug him closer by his necktie, hips rolling against his fingers as one slips in, before quickly being joined by another. “Fuck. Just like that, baby. Doing so good for me.”

It’s almost obscene, the sounds he draws out of you. The squelch of your slick where he pumps his fingers between your thighs, the harsh staccato of your breath as you inch closer and closer to your tipping point—like he’s been doing this for years. Like he’s known all along exactly what it takes to have you falling apart, crying out his name. And that’s exactly what you do, inner walls clenching down around his fingers as your thighs tremble low around his hips, his left hand curling around the back of your head to claim your mouth as you whimper into his skin, chanting his name like a mantra—like a prayer.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Not when he looks at you the way he is looking at you now. Watching your chest rise and fall, eyes on yours, tongue swirling around his slick digits. “Fuck. So much.”

“I’m sure you do,” he practically sing-songs, sliding your panties back into your place, followed by your shorts. Draws you closer to the edge of your kitchen counters, hands on the swell of your hips. He noses along your cheek, kissing you softly this time. “As much as I want to stay here, and I really really want to stay here, I have a very important meeting this morning.”

“Boo,” you whine, ear resting over his chest where you can hear his heart thrashing wildly behind his sternum.

“I’ll text you,” he promises, dropping a kiss on your lips as you lean your head back and look up at him through your lashes. “Send me pictures of Charlie?”

“I will,” you laugh brightly, watching out of the corner of your eye as your fur child lifts his head at the mere mention of his name. “Although I’m pretty sure you already have about a million of them by now. Are you sure you have to go?”

He kisses your pout, chuckling softly. “Yes. I wish I didn’t have to, but I do. You’re so beautiful.”

A smile grows on your lips as his fingers run along your cheek, eyes on you, marveling. Never before have you felt so singularly the focus on a partner’s mind. The way Steve looks now…with reverence and appreciation that makes your heart soar…there’s nothing like it. You want to bottle it up, stow it away, keep it safe from the rest of the world. Keep it here, within the walls of your home, where it’s only you, him and Charlie. Your little makeshift family, but the one you both chose.

So you allow him to help you down off the countertops and onto the floor below, your still-trembling thighs groaning beneath you as your cheeks burn hot. He drops a final kiss down onto the crown of your head and squeezes your shoulder tight, snatching his phone from where it’s resting behind you. Sliding it into his pocket, he calls Charlie’s name and hugs the excited puppy once before stepping into the elevator and reassuring you once more he’ll text you just as the doors slide shut.

He makes it about two minutes before your phone pings. His text illuminates on the screen, the message liquifying your insides all over again.

Husband: You coming like that on my fingers is going to be the only thing I’ll be able to think about for the rest of the day, I’ll have you know.

Your stomach tumbles and swoops low in your belly as you type out your reply.

You: Hurry back soon because I’m already thinking of how I’m planning on returning the favor. I know that’s all I’ll be thinking about until you get home.

He types and stops.

Types and stops again.

A wicked grin curls your lips.

And finally.

Husband: You’re cruel.

You: See you later, handsome.

You: xoxo.

——

please please as always let me know what you think! 🩷

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x you #steve Harrington x reader #fake husband!steve harrington #modern!steve harrington

479 notes · View notes

jensensitive · 23 days

Note

I am obsessed with the way in which you draw Dean. You have his features nailed to perfection - somehow your Dean looks even more Dean than Dean in the show, because you exaggerate everything that makes him HIM. It's truly breathtaking <3 Any advice on how to get those features so flawless?

This is so so nice, thank you so much 😭💕💕💕

Honestly Dean is like my go-to thing to draw basically, and has been for many years, like I have to try to refrain myself from just drawing Dean again sometimes. He's like probably half of how I've learned to draw at all. So there's definitely practice there.

That said, I did not immediately have much of answer to this. It's like, his face is just his perfect, beautiful face, and then I try to draw that. 😅

So I drew some Dean to figure out what it is I do, so thanks for the excuse to draw more Dean lol

Extensive answer under the cut

If you're drawing something realistic from reference, for Dean you kind of have two options, you can either get a screencap that's closer up so you can see details better, but the top of his head is cut off, or you can get one where you can see less details but his whole torso is in frame. It can be weirdly difficult to guess at where the top of his head is sometimes, and you don't need details to capture a likeness, I think it was Sargent that said that the shape of the head is actually the most important aspect in capturing a likeness, so it's something to keep in mind. On the other hand, if you want to look at his pretty eyelashes while you draw him, you might want something closer up. (An understandable impulse).

Another thing is just to look for a reference that you really like, contrasty light and shadow are also great to look for. It's difficult to create a great drawing without them, but also it will illustrate the structure of his head best too. Look for shadow shapes you want to draw. If a reference is too dark (as it often is, because it's supernatural), edit it so you can actually see what you're drawing lmao.

I took a bunch of random screencaps of 11x02-- as random as I could, normally I'd just take screencaps of what I already kind of like, but I tried to just get all of it so you can see what I'm not choosing. (also couldn't help taking some cas ones when the lighting was going really hard)

I love a profile, I love a 3/4 view, I love when his eyes are like half open. His face was kinda giving towards the end of this episode.

Hopefully you can see them well enough. The mass ideas are more important for picking at impactful reference, but ofc I'm also trying to avoid any where he's making a dumb face or it's blurry. Sometimes that's only evident when I open it bigger, but that's okay, we have a bunch to pick from.

a. This one is one I picked out because it's an interesting angle, and I'd definitely do a little study of it, but because the lighting is so soft, it probably wouldn't be super interesting.

b. I like this one, the face he's making is hilarious, and I like the rhythm of his hand, but if I were to draw it, I might draw a fourth finger, otherwise it might look strange. So keep that in mind too, if it looks odd in the reference, it will look odd in the drawing, so unless you're confident that you can effectively change it, pick a different reference or find a second reference to help you change it.

c. This lighting's more dynamic, and I like his expression.

d. Would be hard to pick between these. This one's 3/4 and has a nice eyelash shadow, and I love the shape of his eye when it's downturned.

e. Shoutout to the shape of Jensen's brow when he looks down gotta be one of my favorite genders. + subtle Rembrandt lighting. Lovely.

f. This one is so good. Overhead lighting getting a shadow from his ear in a sideview, defining the jaw in an interesting way. Great expression. It's a bit strange, the way he's looking to the side, so it might be hard to draw convincingly, but would be worth it if I could do it. The shadow from the hair defining the shape of the brow. The light on the cheek defining the slight eyebag. The reflected light under the eye, the light landing on the nose. Would probably change the hair a bit because it looks a bit odd at this angle in this lighting, and if drawn like this it would probably look at bit block-like.

g. More rembrandt lighting. Shoutout to the shadow that this upper lip casts on his lower lip. Shoutout to the shadow his lower lip casts on his chin. Shoutout to the line of light defining his neck. Shoutout to the shape of his brow and forehead.

h. The rhythms here are chefs kiss-- the shadow line diagonal from the corner of his hairline to the corner of his brow echoed by the shadow line diagonal of his cheekbone, then that second line following through to the line of light on his neck that curves the other way.

i. This one's kinda boring wrt lighting, but it's an interesting enough angle to do a study of.

I'm going with screencap c because it's gonna work well to effectively illustrate the basic structure of how I construct his features. It's not directly straight-on, so the form isn't lost, but it's straight enough on to properly show our proportions.

For supplies here, I'm just using a soft charcoal pencil, I just use the kinda cheap ones (currently Markart) cause I actually like them better than General's. And it's on smooth newsprint. I just get it in a big thing of 500 sheets. Not archival but it's a cheap thing that's incredibly enjoyable to draw on. Pink Papermate eraser and a kneaded eraser. The pen I use at one point for some reason is a red Pentel RSVP ballpoint I think, although I actually prefer a Bic.

1. So first thing I block in that main shape, in this case, his head and shoulders. I also have to draw in the hairline at the same time, cause I can't figure it out otherwise. He's got kind of pointy ears. The collar of his jacket often comes up pretty high on the back of his neck. He's got a distinctive hairline that I think can go a long way to showing it's Dean, it's worth taking note of. It swoops to our left, and then the corner (I guess?) of his hairline will line up with the corner/arch of his brow. And don't draw the hairline as an unbroken line, but several lines with some room to breathe. His shoulders are pretty straight and broad, but about three heads across which is pretty normal.

2. Next what I think about is the shape of the eyesockets and the line of the brow. This bit will go a ways for conveying Dean's expression, because he has a wide range from light and happy to horribly scowly that's in the brows. You don't have to define the exact line of the brow at this moment, blocking in the general line is fine just to have an idea of where it lands. You can go back later and refine it. I also find where the bottom lid lands. In my brain it makes a shape like what I've drawn. I might not draw it just like this, but even if I don't, this is the shape I'm thinking about. The line from the end of his eyebrow to his bottom lid is a fave, sometimes you can see it on him, especially at an angle, and it's real pretty.

3. Next I find where the bottom of his nose lands, it's about double the length of the eyesocket. And the line under his bottom lip, about halfway between his nose and the bottom of his chin. These measurements are pretty average measurements for a face. I didn't give myself enough room for his chin initially, so I moved it down to fix it. Also adjusted his face very slightly wider on the right side, cause it's looking a bit narrow.

4. I added some of our shadow shapes. This is where finding a reference with well-defined shadows will be very helpful. And I sketched in the clothes cause why not. The clothes don't have to be perfect, who cares, Dean's collar is not our point of interest lol. The shadow on the neck will probably be slightly curved because of the roundness of the neck. If it's not, you might want to make it curve slightly anyway just to help define the form. I blocked in where the eyes are.

eyes: For Jensen's lovely eyes, they have a specific shape that is so nice to draw, especially at certain and angles and with certain expressions. But basically the top lid is more angular and can be almost boxed off at the end, and the line from the corner of the eye to the lashes is an s-curve that's higher in the middle. Again, not unusual features in drawing a face, but such pretty examples. The shadow that his lower lid casts (or his makeup idk?) is often dark enough to look vaguely like eyeliner. Jensen's lower eyelids, an underrated part of Jensen. His eyebrows are thicker in the middle and sparser on the ends.

5. Next I found the corners of the lips. This is an important aspect in the way I draw mouths. Sometimes I just draw them with dots where the corners of the lips are, a curve where the lips part in the middle, a shadow under the bottom lip, and the curve of the cupid's bow. (This is seen below in 6) I think I also adjusted the bottom lip shadow here. Straight-on, the middle of his lips is slightly higher than the corners, but of course, this will change when not straight-on, depending on if we're looking up or down at his mouth. I also sketched in the nose shape. The ridge of his nose has a nice subtle bump, and then the ball of his nose is very slightly squared off I think, from a front-facing perspective, I feel like. And I drew in his slightly drawn brows. Just pay attention to the angles in your reference, because the expression, the perspective and the angle of the head can impact it. But of course generally, drawn down in the middle, furrowed = scowly; drawn up, unfurrowed = happy.

nose: I prefer drawing his nose in profile. And who wouldn't, look at it! The slight curve of the bridge and then the ball of the nose. I will exaggerate this a little sometimes, just because it's fun and I like it. I couldn't find a reference, but from below, you can see the shape of the bottom of his nose, it dips in the middle a bit more than average. Drawing the bottom of the nose is often a delicate balance between shadow and reflected light. I love keeping it light, save for the nostrils, but then the shadow under the nose can be important too. Sometimes it's just a stylistic choice. Note that there's a plane change between the side of the nose and the cheek. (I think I drew his nose too upturned here, but the general idea is still there)

6/mouth: In drawing the mouth, the top line of the upper lip looks more rectangular at the ends, increasingly so as it turns away from us, and much less so as it turns towards us. Of course, he has a full upper lip that you can shade as you like. I try to keep it distinct from the shadow of the line of the mouth, and a reflected light on the top lip can be good here too. For the bottom lip, it's always nice to give is some shine with a hard-edge highlight. For the cupid's bow, I try to leave a light between the upper lip and the shadow in the cupid's bow. For some reason I drew the shadow backwards here, but I think it looks fine.

7/ears: I started to shade it, and then I remembered that he has ears. There's a simplified way I draw ears that I like. It's not entirely accurate, because the two shadows at the top are actually usually connected, but I find it a bit distracting that way sometimes, so this is more subtle I guess. In profile, I don't really have a method of drawing it, I just draw whatever the reference gives me or bs it with a similar version of this, depending.

8/hair: My method for drawing his hair is 1) suffer 2) hope and pray. I like to leave a rim light-type deal between the contour/outliine of the hair and the rest of the hair, I feel like it helps define it a bit more. The direction of his hair, and thus the direction of my lines is something like this.

9. And then I more or less just shaded. When shading, it's always good to follow the direction of the plane, and I also alternatively like to shade in the direction that the light is falling to reinforce that gesture, but when I shade a face, I try to shade in the opposite direction of where wrinkles would go, if that makes sense, mostly up and down I guess. This is of course on a case by case basis, like a lot of times, I'll do the forehead horizontally anyway, but it's especially touchy around where the laugh lines of the mouth would be and the neck. And on soft plane changes (and softish hard plane changes), I often shade at a different angle to the main shadow. Shading direction can also delineate different areas of similar tones, like I did with the jacket and the side of the nose. I like to give Dean his eyelash shadow, because he deserves it. I also drew in the eyes, of course. I think I actually tend to shade them backwards, and the light would fall in the opposite direction, so when lit from the right, the right side would be darker, but I just don't draw it that way idk maybe I should.

And there he is, that's our guy!

Normally when I'm drawing, I'm definitely a bit more all over the place, and don't necessarily do things in perfect order. And it's good to move around. I'm probably not going to be shading things before noting where all the features are going to land, but I often am shading something before I've drawn everything. Or end up drawing one eye and then maybe do part of the other and then move to do part of the nose and then sketch in an ear and then maybe notice something's off somewhere and adjust that, etc. Just go with it, have fun, he's got a fun face to draw! 💗

#ask #art tutorial #if there's one thing I can talk about forever!!#dean winchester #my art #portrait drawing

85 notes · View notes

hangesfavles · 19 days

Text

Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.”

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling.

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body.

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you.

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly.

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream.

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor...

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still.

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly.

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

94 notes · View notes