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awearywritersworld · 5 months

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i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

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#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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sugurusdiscordmoderator · 1 month

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Halo bby! <3

Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔

hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)

Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:

I didn’t proof read this my apologies

MDNI

cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.

—

You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!

‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’

After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.

But oh, you could not relate.

After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.

Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks

“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.

“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.

“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”

Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.

“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.

“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”

You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.

“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.

You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.

Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.

He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.

Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.

While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.

That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.

“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.

You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.

You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.

“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”

Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉

You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.

You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.

“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.

Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!

“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.

“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.

You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.

“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.

“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.

“No baby, I want to face the other way.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.

You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.

Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.

Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”

Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.

“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”

“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.

You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.

“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.

“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.

“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.

“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?

You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.

“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.

His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”

Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”

You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.

Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.

“Say it again…” he moans.

“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.

“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.

“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck

“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,

“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.

Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.

“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.

“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before

“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.

“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.

His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…

“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!

You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.

“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.

“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.

Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.

He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.

“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.

You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.

“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.

“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.

He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.

“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.

Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.

You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.

“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.

You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.

“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.

You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.

You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”

His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”

You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”

“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.

“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.

You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.

Dear Doctor Yeager,

Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.

- world famous Satoru Gojo

he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk requests #sugurusdiscordmoderator

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ncityprincess · 3 months

Text

The one before the big ‘three-oh’

Minors do not interact

Happy 29th Birthday to the boyfriend of all boyfriends, the one and only Mr. Johnny Suh🫦🎂

“Man, tonight was crazy fun y/n! Thank you so much, really. How did you score box seats to the Bulls vs the Lakers babe?!” your giddy fiancé exclaimed, high off of the evening’s events. You had just gotten back from the basketball game you surprised Johnny with for his birthday. The tickets cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it. Johnny made all other 364 days of the year magical for you. He deserved a special experience for his big day. It was the least you could do.

Johnny turned on the lights in the house as you took your heels off and set them aside. “Oh don’t worry about it baby. I’m just happy you had a fun birthday. How does it feel being 29, big guy?” The two of you migrated into the kitchen, your typical hang out spot in the house. You loved your little life you’d built with Johnny. From having to share a slice of pizza in your college days, to now being full grown adults and making a comfortable life for yourselves, it was these little moments you looked forward to in life. Making memories with the love of your life made you feel warm inside.

Johnny grabbed two water bottles and handed you one, opening it for you. “You know, normally I’d say I feel the same as any other age, but this year I truly do feel every bit of 29. I guess… it just feels like a serious number because it’s the last one before the big ‘three-oh’, ya know?” Johnny walked up to the barstool you were sitting on and stood in between your legs, cupping your dolled up face. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile and caressed his large hands.

“You’re gonna be as sexy as ever once you hit those 30’s…just saying” you joked, hoping to soothe his thoughts a little. Johnny tossed his head back and snorted, “wow, thanks babe.”

You giggled along with him, rubbing your hands up and down his broad back. “You’re blossoming into such an amazing man, John. Seriously. I fall more in love with you each day, and it’s an honor that I get to do life with you. I love you so much honey.” Johnny couldn’t hide the blush creeping up on his face even if he wanted to. Of course, always the man of action rather than words, Johnny bent down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. The action said more to you than any sweet words could.

After the kiss slowed, you pulled away from him and ran your hand across the front of his thigh. Maybe there were a few more birthday festivities you had planned for your man…

“Why don’t you uh, get us some wine and meet me back in the bedroom in a few, big boy.” You shot him some flirty bedroom eyes, something you knew he couldn’t resist. Johnny gave you a knowing smile and backed away from you slowly, holding a hand out to help you down from the barstool. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, and you walked out of the kitchen with a little extra sway in your hips, feeling Johnny’s lingering gaze on your ass.

After giving you what felt like enough time to plan whatever you were conjuring up in that pretty head of yours, Johnny walked into your shared bedroom with two wine glasses in hand, just like you’d asked. He noticed that the lighting was slightly moodier than normal, and took note of the sexy playlist that added to the ambiance in the room. You walked out of the en-suite bathroom wearing nothing but a crimson red silk robe, and a pair of black stilettos.

“Oh well well well, what do we have here baby?” Johnny said as he took in your sexy little look. He gently placed the wine glasses down on the dresser, never taking his eyes off of you. You flipped your hair, the drinks from tonight and the desire to please your man for his special day heightening your confidence. “Hmm, well I guess you can call this your other birthday present, baby.”

“Oh? You mean, it gets better than box seats at the Bulls vs the Lakers?” Johnny flirted. “Why don’t you come unwrap it and find out, daddy.” With that, Johnny all but charged at you and kissed you passionately. You let out a sensual moan, running your hands all over his broad body. After a few moments of making out, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed him back slightly. “You know what daddy? You’re always working so hard for me. Why don’t you go sit down in the chair? Let me take care of you.” Johnny was hooked under your spell. He would do just about anything for you right now. You guided him toward the chair in front of your bed, and he subconsciously followed.

He looked up at you, mesmerized as you started to put on a little show for him, rubbing your hands all over your body. Your fingers kept dancing toward the rope holding your robe together, but you wanted to drag it out a little more. As if it were right on cue, a particular birthday song popped up on shuffle. The familiar intro played throughout the room, but once the first verse started, the air in the room got a little lighter.

“Wow, very on the nose babe” Johnny snickered. You cracked a smile, giggling at the incredibly literal lyrics of the song. Birthday Sex by Jeremih seemed like an appropriate addition to Johnny’s birthday playlist you had curated beforehand, but in hindsight it did seem a little cheesy. You playfully slapped his arm, slightly embarrassed but also grateful that you two were close enough to be able to share a laugh in intimate situations like this. Yet another reason why you loved Johnny so much. “Shut up!! It seemed like a good song to include at the time. Just sit back and watch, big boy” you scolded lightheartedly.

Johnny held his hands up in retreat, signaling that he was done with the jokes and ready to focus on you. Your hips found the rhythm, and swayed along to the beat. After a few moments, Johnny was hypnotized by your seductive movements. He admired how sexy and confident you were, loving how you moved your body. How did he get lucky to have such a beautiful woman like you?

Johnny’s upper body bent towards you as your fingers inched closer and closer to the tie holding your robe together. You gave him a sexy smile, and played with him a bit. “Aw, you wanna see what’s underneath, don’t ya big guy?” Johnny frantically nodded, licking his plump lips in anticipation. You finally undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor at your heeled feet. There you were, standing stark naked in front of your fiancé. A wave of confidence flowed through your body.

You turned around and bent over slightly, giving Johnny a nice view of your glistening pussy. Johnny let out a soft “fuck”, much to your amusement. You walked back over, stopping right in front of Johnny. His hands automatically moved to your bare ass, rubbing it in appreciation. He looked up at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and it made you feel you alive.

As much as he loved your little peep show, his dick was going to bust through his pants at any second now. Without warning, Johnny stood up and pushed you back onto the bed, shoving his dress pants off and towering over you. You looked up at him dumbfounded, still amazed by the fact that he could manhandle you at any given second. “Babe—baby I’m supposed to be on top of you. It’s your night remember!” You pleaded. Surely he deserved to be the one serviced tonight.

“Shhh, you’ve done enough for me sweetheart. Just need be inside that sweet pussy now. Is that okay, baby?” Johnny looked down at you like the big bad wolf, ready to eat you whole at any moment. How could you resist an offer like that? “Yes daddy. Want you deep inside.”

With that, Johnny rubbed his leaking tip a few times and slowly sank into your dripping pussy. You both moaned in unison, relishing in the closeness of the position. Johnny gathered your thighs on his biceps and placed them around his waist. You locked your ankles in place, bracing yourself in preparation. He built up a strong, quick pace that had you moaning like a whore. “Fuckkkk John you’re so deep baby” you moaned out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Johnny sucked on your earlobe as he pistoned roughly into you.

He was grateful in moments like this to live in a house with just you two in it. Gone were the days of having to tip toe around neighbors and roommates and figure out sneaky ways to pummel your sweet little pussy. He didn’t have to share thin walls with anyone. He could pound into your hole without a care in the world. This is true adulthood, Johnny thought to himself.

Your whiney mewls brought him back to reality, and he turned his head to look down at your gorgeous, fucked out face. Your eyebrows were stitched together, looking up at him with large doe eyes. He loved when you got like this. “Feel good baby? You’re making me feel real good. Yeah that’s it, just lay back and take it.”

You threw your head back in ecstasy, digging your manicured nails into his shoulders. “Ooh daddy I’m so close.” Johnny snuck a hand down to your sex, and rubbed soft circles into your clit. He knew how much you loved a little extra stimulation when you were close to cumming. A couple more thrusts and you were creaming all over his thick cock. Johnny let out a long, deep groan and soon after, you felt warm spurts of cum deep inside you. Johnny thrusted a few more times before he completely stilled with a satisfied groan.

“Fuck baby, this has to be the best birthday I’ve ever had” Johnny said sincerely, playing with some loose strands of your hair. You giggled, still slightly out of breath. “Aw, honey. There’s plenty more where that came from.” You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, and Johnny smiled mischievously.

“I hope you’re not just talking about birthdays, my love.” And with that, Johnny rolled you onto your stomach for a celebratory round 2.

The end 🎂

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ovaryacted · 1 month

Note

Honest question, how do you think Leon would propose?

Love ya Nic, have a great day/night! ❤️

Omg, anon, I'm so sorry I haven't answered this until now even though I truly wanted to when I first saw it! I literally was grinning from ear to ear thinking about this and the different ways Leon would propose to his significant other. Thank you so much for this ask, it really made me happy. 🫶

Now, I think the way Leon approaches marriage will definitely depend on where he is in his life. He can be both attentive and intentional on the proposal itself, or he's more focused on the final product and ends up being an impulsive knucklehead. So I will break this down based on the different versions of him, and I hope you enjoy my thoughts on this!

RE2R - Baby boy, most definitely would be very considerate towards the whole process. I see him taking a more romantic approach despite being shy, taking their partner out to dinner, and spending a pretty penny on the whole thing. He'll get a bouquet of roses, take you to some nice restaurant in the city, and does some real corny shit like put the engagement ring in the dessert, or he'd actually get on one knee and ask you properly. Either way, I think this specific version of Leon would give you the sweetest most intentional engagement, and it would be more endearing because he's nervous the entire time and scared you'd say no but when you kiss him, he's all smiles afterward.

RE4R - Now Leon is a couple of years older with more life experience under his belt that he didn't necessarily ask for. If he was lucky enough to have a partner that he wants to marry, he would still be considerate enough to actually ask them but the proposal would be more intimate and personal. He'd probably take you to somewhere quiet and scenic, he'd want it to be more private and away from other people to ease his own anxieties. He may or may not get on one knee in front of you or decide on just holding your hands, but he would still ask you, or say that he wants you in his life for as long as he's here. Much more sentimental because he's an emotional type of guy, and he's the type to probably have the ring in his pocket instead of the case itself, but it is still a lovely gesture.

ID! - For sure goes back to his romantic roots. Similar to him in RE2R, I still see him doing the whole restaurant thing, but probably rents out an actual section in the restaurant so it's more private. He has the entire night planned, takes you to a nice exclusive dinner (cause duh), is very smug and corny about things, and woos you with his silly jokes before popping the question seriously. Afterwards, he'd take you to a nice hotel room with champagne and really treats you to a nice night out because it's what you deserve.

RE6 - Now at his age and with his level of trauma, it can go either nicely, or very impulsively. If he's intentional and wants that special moment, Leon will plan it out and do it properly. But I think it would be more realistic if he's impulsive, or just never finds the right way to propose to the person he loves. He'd come back home with the ring sitting in his pocket but wouldn't ask you for weeks. Every time he thinks it's the right time to propose to you, he either chickens out from asking at all, or he gets sent off on another mission and isn't able to come back for some time. He wants to do it right, really does, but he'll eventually grow impatient and just blurts out the statement like a dumbass. At least here, he'll probably say it when he's desperate, just says "Marry me" as he's kissing you over and over. It's embarrassing, but once he realizes he can't live without you and doesn't want to wait any longer, he will just say it because it's better if he did than if he never gets the chance to do it in the first place.

Vendetta - Good luck on getting him to ask cause he literally won't. The question may or may not slip out into a drunken mess of words that he won't remember in the morning, or you'll mention something about marriage and he'll brush it off. That man would not give one fuck about getting married when he literally doesn't think life is worth living. If you want to marry him, it will take a lot of convincing him that he's even worth the emotional investment. Leon wants to feel love and reciprocate it, but he's also scared that if he does get married, it'll turn into collateral so he would be less inclined to even want that.

DI! - A little more sensical than he was in the past, Leon at this point will either do a proper proposal, or he will unintentionally suggest that he wants to marry you. He's the type to buy the engagement ring the moment he knows he wants to be in your life for whatever is remaining of it, and he'll keep it hidden or tucked away for months, or carry it on him as a reminder to ask you one day. In a moment of weakness, he can also just pop the question as he's being with you in bed, loving you. His eyes will crinkle as he smiles, looking at you with so much affection that it'll probably come out as a hypothetical like "What if we got married?". You entertain the idea, not thinking he's serious but when he goes quiet after a second and gives you a bashful stare, you just say "You're not serious are you?", and he holds the ring in front of you like "Very serious". It's sudden, it's even a tad bit silly, but it's him and you can't help but say yes anyway.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fluff #resident evil headcanons #ovaryacted thoughts

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nctinkverse · 4 months

Text

Promissa Redux

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Genre: mature, smut, angst, fluff, minors dni.

Preview and plot warnings (I will update as I go): dad Jaehyun, pregnancy, MC is a mom, mature, slow burn, excessive angst, abundant plot, and probably way too much dialogue, exes to lovers, Jaehyun 's family is in this (at least as I imagine they might be), a lot of intimacy, explicit content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of exes, heavy make-out session and annoying co-workers.

WC Preview: 1000

WC Total: Not sure, probably it will be 5.000 - 10.000?

Chapter 1 - Shattered promises & Broken vows. Chapter 2 - Valentines Day.

Chapter 3 - One call away is not close enough.

SYNOPSIS: Most of the fairy tales and romance novels, it all seems perfect after the happily ever after. But what if some stories started at the end?

Well not the end per se, nobody was dying.

But you always questioned, do princess get a divorce?

Do female main characters give up the man they fought to love after so many chapters?

At 32 years of age, divorced, mom to an incredible 5-year-old girl who was the greatest thing you and the love of your life ever did, you thought again about the same questions you had when you were 14 and your parents got divorced.

Jung was your last name for 2 years, Mrs. Jung was your title and you loved it, he was sweet, loving, an amazing father and so good to you in bed that you never forgot truly what it felt like to be loved by him.

Your story stated way past the end, the not so happily ever after.

It didn’t have many twists and turns like a superhero movie that keeps you hanging at the edge of your seat for the next plot twist.

In your mind, life was already full of uncertainties, hard decisions, mistakes and paying the price for choosing paths.

Life itself was already hard enough without the responsibilities of superpowers.

So how you ended up thinking about all that again at 32 years old, while holding an engagement ring box you found on your lover’s pocket while picking it up of the floor, it was something you will have to find the answers, probably soon.

------------------------Preview----------------------------------------

You were fast asleep when the phone rang. The name on the screen making you jump, why is he calling at this hour? This can’t be a good thing.

Immediately you laid your back on the headboard and answered the call.

"Hi."

"Jaehyun, is something wrong?"

"Oh, no…" You let out a relieved breath, being half asleep making you grumpy.

"Good lord, Jaehyun, it's 4 a.m!" You said, raising your voice a little.

"Oh shoot… um sorry… I didn’t check for the time zones. I should have called another –

You interrupted his rambling. He’s not usually someone to call, he could just spill so you can go back to sleep.

"Jae, spill, what’s the gossip, huh?"

He let out a little laugh since the gossip joke was an old one between you two.

"No gossip, but I do have something."

"Clearly, it's something good or you wouldn’t be calling on impulse, spill, Jaehyun."

"Yeah right…" He hesitated a bit, his telltale sign usually being him coughing even though there was nothing wrong with his voice. "I got sent this script for this movie, they want me as the main male character..." He hesitated again, which made you ask.

"Jaehyun, what did you do?"

"I sent a copy of the script to your mailbox."

You could feel your sleepiness going away as you scolded him.

"Jaehyun, are you nuts? You can’t ship stuff like this in the mail! What if it gets –"

"It got delivered today." He interrupted, making you stop your thinking.

Scrambling for a thought since he didn’t elaborate, you asked.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with it?! I’m not a male actor, Jung."

"Read, dummy, read."

"And do what?"

"Tell me if you want it."

You opened your mouth to be obnoxious, pointing out the obvious, but Jaehyun must have listened to your 'I’m about to give you an earful' breath and went first.

"Listen, it’s an amazing script, just like the ones you used to want to work on. There’s an opening for a cinematographer, and I know you’re a hell of a good one, so if you want, it’s yours." He said in one breath, probably afraid you would interrupt again.

But from all he said, this part really got you confused.

"What do you mean it’s mine?"

"I showed the director your profile and portfolio, and he said yes."

"Fuck, Jaehyun." You didn’t know what to say since he was never one to interfere in your personal life since the D word.

"You’re sleepy, and I know how grumpy you can be at this hour, so… I still have to tell you two more things, the job is in the states, probably 3-4 months of filming, and I am supposed to give an answer on the male character in 48 hours. We would have to work together, and we would probably have to strike a deal with my parents since we can’t pull Junnie out of school, so…"

You understood what he said, but you needed at least a cup of coffee to process it. But before you could say anything, he went off again.

"I can give it up if you want." He said almost like a whisper.

"Give what up?"

"The character."

"You didn’t like it?"

"No, but –

You interrupted again.

"So, if you do like it, why would you give it up?" It made no sense to you.

"For you –"

It still didn’t make sense why he would give it up.

"Give it up for ME?"

"I like it, Y/N, but this script has you written all over it… and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being there."

Now you got him, yet he was about the last person in this world who could make you uncomfortable.

"Yuno…" You said in a softer tone.

You heard his breath and a soft "yeah?"

"I don’t hate you." You stated in your most soft yet firm tone, it was one of the things he must not forget about you two.

"I know, Y/N, I know."

"I am going to read it and think about what you said, ok? Don’t do anything hasty."

"Ok, I will let you go back to sleep."

"I’m not sleeping after all this, you know right?" You said, letting out a small huff.

"I know."

"What I am about to do is getting up, making some coffee and grabbing the script out of my mailbox, does it sound good to you?" You were being just a bit playful.

"It does, love."

That word made you warm like butter melting on a frying pan. Still, that wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him to call you. So, you let it slide.

"Well, for sure it’s better than staying in bed tossing and turning."

He let out a small giggle, he knew you were one of those to fight a lot with your bed at night.

"Good morning, love."

"Good afternoon to you?" You didn’t know what timezone he was on, so you tried.

"Try again." He said with a smiling voice.

"Good night!" You said like you had guessed the lottery numbers.

He let out a giggle sound and said, "Give little Nari 1000 kisses from me, will you?

"Why just a thousand?" You said with a little pout. You could hear his playful tone.

"Don’t you know our daughter? She might ask for in real life a thousand kisses; since you are the closest parent, you might fall victim to it, so I think that’s a great number for kisses."

You both giggled, Jung Nari, the lily to our garden, was at that phase where hyperboles would be a tough concept for her to grasp.

"Ok, fine." You agreed still giggling.

"I will call… stay safe."

"You too, Jaehyun."

"Bye."

And the line went silent.

#nct #kpop smut #nct series #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #nct x reader #nct scenarios #fic:promissa redux

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updatingranboo · 9 months

Text

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

#this is how i found out tumblr has a character limit per block #well. have fun reading #i sure did #ranboo #ranboo update #twitter update #ranboosaysstuff tweet

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pascalsbby · 10 months

Text

CARNAL / 5: All Is Fair In Love & War

Chapter 4 / Masterlist

Summary: 5.5K/ f!reader, dark!joel, bfd!joel, brat tamer!joel

“You were infiltrating his space, now. You stayed still, and she mumbled something. You pressed, “keep watching” on the screen and let the TV voices drown out your reality- the one in which Joel is awake, unknowing that you’re in his house and in his daughters bed.”

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, knife play, lil bit of blood play, breath play, choking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive joel, pet names, praise kink, p in v sex, face fucking, dirty talk <3, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth + a little more this time.

A/N: SHIT’S HAPPENING! I got a little carried away. Lemme know what you think, please? 🤍

“How do you love?”

“Like a fist. Like a knife.”

- Ada Limón

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

You had surrendered the recollection of what it felt like to be touched, held, a long time ago. For the person touching you to feel you for themselves, too.

A delicate pass, the very essence of tenderness has materialized into his calloused fingertips. Small hairs from his beard kissing your skin, just as his lips brush up and down your neck. He’s breathing into you, the condensation is warm, making your own sweat drip. Lips whispering, gliding along the delicate curve of your neck, his movement like a goddamn poem.

His fingers dipping into your depth, wet from prodding in your mouth.

Pleasure and pain, almost annoyance at how good it feels. It tickles. It feels wrong, even. Joel dips down and licks your sweat pooling in a tucked-in spot between your collar bones.

It feels heavy with guilt. It feels safe. His thick arms are holding you against his body, he’s making promises in your ear.

It’s not real, though- it’s a dream. A dream you’ve been having for days, over and over. But it never really leaves when you wake, either.

It’s what Joel felt like- will feel like when you meet again. The familiar gnawing in your chest aches. Where does the feeling of him end, and I begin? Am I finally lost within? I’d stay here forever. Maybe that’s what I was meant for… to be lost in the chest of a man in my own brain.

9:45pm, sat on either side of Sarah’s bed in her still-pink room that she’d outgrown years ago.

“Dad says he’ll repaint it once I promise I’ll stay here until I graduate, during the summers at least,” she had said. “I guess that gives me more time to see you since you’ll be here now too.” You corrected her, “Until I can move out of my parent’s house again. Maybe I’ll just live here, it’s better than going back there.” Sarah frowned at the joke, knowing what you had shared about your family to her.

What were you doing? Joking about staying here. This was Joel’s house. He was asleep two doors down. Now wasn’t the best time to be making jokes, but it felt easier than trying to face what was truly happening.

Sarah had promised he was sleeping whenever you snuck through the back door, putting her finger to her lips to quiet you when you were suddenly falling over the molding on the way in the door. You’d never been one for graceful movements.

She held in her giggles all the way until her door was closed, though.

“Were you trying to wake the sleeping bear?”

“Maybe,” you giggled.

And that was the truth. You were terrified, but you wanted him to know you were here.

You were angry at him, but you wanted him. You wanted to see his room, not through a computer screen on a cam website- but in person. You wanted to be near him.

You were infiltrating his space, now.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

It had been 6 days since Joel had shown his face. It had also been 6 days and few minutes less whenever he had left the bathroom you two shared. He decided not to share his plan with you, once again. You were a puppet in his game.

‘Break with him? For him?’ You had, momentarily on the bathroom floor. The sobs were clawing their way out unmercifully, but you also didn’t want to stop them. You had believed what he told you. He held you like a little girl, arms wrapped around you in safety. And you had listened and believed. Why? When has a man ever followed through in their promises to you?

He had left you in the bathroom, fending for yourself on how to clean up the mess he made. He had cleaned up the visible mess of your cum, his, sure, but not what he awoke inside of you.

You looked into the mirror and formed a half smile, looking at the faint shadow of where your mascara had been running.

Your neck was red where he’d wrapped his hand around you.

You took a few more deep breaths and then patted down your dress. There, on the inside of your thigh was his fingertips, branded into your body from force.

You wanted to tattoo him on your body, make him permanent. But you also wanted to scream and throw a fit against his chest. You felt like a child.

When you got tired of looking into your own eyes, you went to go face the truth.

Sarah had found you first, immediately boring into you. Her face was disappointed, frowning. You knew in that moment that she was gone, months of friendship thrown away.

She knew, she knew that there was something going on between you and Joel. She knew you fucked him in that bathroom. She knew he’d been paying you to ruin yourself for him.

You waited for a sharp pain, a crying voice, something.

She quickened her pace and ran to you after she could see that physically, you were fine. But she didn’t hit you. She wrapped you in her arms and the breath you had been unknowingly holding, released. She whispered to you, still holding you tight.

Suddenly the world was spinning, for probably the fifth time that night. But when was the last time you felt like you were standing on solid ground, anyways?

“Dad told me, I’m so sorry, I had no idea or I would have beat his ass myself, I swear to God.” She released from the hug and held you at arms length, looking you over.

You’ve never been a good liar, praying that your eyes wouldn’t give it away. ‘I’m fucking your dad.’

She looked like Joel in that moment, sounded like him. Concerned, brow set downward.

Joel was standing a few feet away, facing you while Sarah’s back was to him. He was smiling ever-so-lightly here and there as your family talked at him, his eyes lifted from his dad’s face to you. You imagined your eyes were wide, still red from tears, from being handled by him… fucked into the concrete wall.

Your eyes returned to Sarah as she started again.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone! How could you not tell me! I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the time. I just thought you would have told me that he wasn’t treating you right, that he was supposed to be here on your big day. I’m sorry.” She said again, softer, realizing she was getting worked up about the ‘wrong’ part of the story, and you probably couldn’t handle that energy at the moment.

You dared look at Joel again, the indention between his brows was visible for a few moments, he nodded his head towards you, looking at you through his eyelashes after looking down at his feet. Play along. Stop choking. Stop starin’.

You returned to her gaze, as she waited for your response.

God damnit, answer her…. C’mon Birdie.

You could still feel his fingers in the back of your throat.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry. I just thought it would turn out differently. He seemed so sweet and interested in me and that usually doesn’t happen so I ju-“

She cut you off, shhhh’ing you.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. This mystery man has spent too much of your time tonight.”

He had told your parents the same story, and they believed him. So much so they didn’t even care to ask you anything, all you got was a “sorry” nod from your mom. Your dad was too busy talking to other family members, probably telling them how hard he worked to get you here.

And yet again, here you were, the victim in a string of lies that weren’t even your own.

The story was simple: you had been seeing some guy for a few months and invited him here to meet your parents on your big night. He didn’t show- and when Sarah came in all excited talking about Chase, it made you upset. Joel followed you because he thought you were upset that he was there without notice, and he didn’t want to worry anyone else in the gallery by bringing your parents into it.

It was good. Why are you surprised? You knew he was a good liar. All your fucking encounters had been premeditated- even today. Maybe even this one, in where he sticks his fingers inside of you and fucks you to tears, then blames it on some other guy.

But it didn’t surprise you how quickly they fell under his spell. You did the same, and all it took was whispered filth in his deep, vibrating voice. All it took was his fist wetly wrapped around his throbbing cock.

Your emotions were never really taken into consideration, and this was another one of those moments- but this time you were grateful. No one asked questions about the mystery asshole again. Except for Sarah.

That’s how you ended up in his house, in her bedroom. You felt like you owed her the ‘truth’ of what happened between you and mystery boy.

You wish the real mystery boy wasn’t her dad. Why couldn’t he have been the neighbor, or some professor from school? You’d never really looked at older men in this manner, before Joel.

Shame was growing deeper amidst the entanglement of lies you felt like you’d eventually get stuck in.

And they were sticking to you, the lies. Thick, heavy. They played themselves over and over in your dreams, dancing in circles and spinning webs.

He whispered to you, “Mine. Mine. Mine, Birdie.” But just in your dreams. You had wings and he washed them gently, petting and taking care of you.

She had texted you at least a hundred times since that night, asking about this guy, wanting to know every detail. So you decided it was best to see her in person, tell her whatever story you could come up with on the spot and then hopefully hear nothing about it again.

“Maybe… maybe I scared him away? I don’t do well with things needing me, or being close to me. Maybe it’s externalized resentment towards the world for having been born as the ‘older sister’ in a broken home, or for having to be the parent of my parents, the house, myself. I don’t like dogs jumping on me and licking me, I don’t like the grabby hands of children, I hate when my mother asks me a question that she could easily figure out herself,” you finish, out of breath from quickly trying to get your thoughts out before they left. Or maybe before you realized who you were telling your secrets to.

And that was the truth. You knew you’d been a shit friend to Sarah. You couldn’t see it getting any better from here, but you also somehow knew what would be worse: losing him even though he wasn’t even yours. He felt lodged in your chest like he was an integral part of your body and its ability to work.

“I think that makes sense,” she nods. “You were in survival mode, you didn’t have enough energy for extra anything- including relationships or extra overstimulation. That’s how dad is, too. I’ve begged him for years to acknowledge the pain, but then put it down for a while. Or let someone hold it with him, at least. He grew up similarly to you, I think.” She pondered on. “I think he would do well with someone caring for him. You too.”

“Uh…” you stuttered, “yeah. He seems like he’s had a rough go at it. From what you’ve told me at least. I remember him being sad that summer he worked on the shed, too, but I guess I just assumed it was cause you weren’t there n’ he missed you. I don’t remember a lot of it though, to be honest.”

“‘Don’t know,” she trails, “he’s always been like that. Even before the divorce. He’s been a hell of a lot happier this six months though. He says he doesn’t know why, just ‘feels lighter.’ I assume he’s seein’ someone, just won’t tell me who. Probably Ms. Tammi down the street… he always eyes her when she’s workin’ in the garden. She’s too young for him though, she’s like 35,” She scoffs.

Damn.

35 is a helluva lot better than 24. But this isn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

Sarah continues on, quickly changing the subject and falling into other conversations as you listen intently, happy to not be at the receiving end of questions at the moment.

You can’t help but wonder what Ms. Tammi looks like. It fades quickly, though.

That’s how the majority of the night went, and you were happily exhausted by it all. The nodding, “yes!”’s and “I agree. I agree”’s, the giggling, the comfort in the face of it all.

Around 3am you both settled down and she gave you a blanket that smelled like their home. It was soft, warm. Sarah put New Girl on and she was out in 5 and a half minutes. You always fell asleep last at sleepovers, unsurprisingly. You didn’t sleep well as it is.

Her room was comfy. Boxes were still littered around from what she brought home for the summer. Her pink walls radiated the soft glow and heat of the lamps. Her TV was dancing across the walls, casting shadows. Her windows were open, welcoming in the cooler, muggy night. Cicadas were still singing their lullabies.

Her walls were adorned with proof that she had been taken care of, loved. Pictures of Joel throughout their life, littered under string lights.

She’d always been a photographer, ever since Joel put her first camera in her hand when she was 5. Sarah had lit up talking about it a few hours earlier. She took the family pictures on their vacations- meaning, she attempted to squeeze her and Joel into the frame, considering how much shorter her arms were than his. He let her, not too worried that half of his face was cut out.

“Always knew you were gonna be somethin’ special, kid.” He had told her.

There were the ones of just him, too. Black and white speckled film. He was turned to the side in one, his profile taking up the whole shot, looking forward. He was younger then, more clean shaven and… just smaller. He looked lighter in a different regard. Happier, maybe.

He looked beautiful, but not the way he does now. The years are present in the fine lines of his face- they are there to tell his story. One you didn’t even know yet but wanted to drown in.

The testament to how much Sarah loved Joel was right here. The proof of how much he loves her, staring back. She had a safe childhood, you think.

And you’re jealous because you can see it; the difference in the two of you. No, you don’t want to be like Joel’s daughter in that way… you just… hate having to admit to yourself that the time for that has passed. Your dad never showed up in that way, and he never would.

He wasn’t the one who covers your cuts and carries you to your bed when you fell asleep watching one of his cowboy shows on Saturday night. He was the type of dad that screamed your weaknesses back at you, stabbing through you- except this time through your back and into your chest; not even looking you in the eyes while hurting the little girl within you, again. And again. And again-

Back to Joel, please. You begged your mind. Your hands were shaking, too. The soft hum of Sarah sleeping next to you brought you back. You hate that it makes your heart swell that much more, the fact he took such good care of her. Such good care that she doesn’t have any inkling of what’s going on between her two favorite people.

She’s sleeping peacefully in a place that’s never been a war zone, and yet here you were. Who would be the first causality?

You drift off eventually, uncomfortable at first because you don’t want to move her bed too much, waking her. Eventually you sleep, and you sleep peacefully despite the elephant on your chest. Despite the war on the horizon.

Perhaps this was the best sleep you’d had in years, even. You felt safe in her safety, in Joel’s.

You dreamt about him again, this time he was bleeding.

And then a crashing in the kitchen followed by a muffled “fuck” caused you to gasp out of your nightmare, and Sarah stirred to your entire body stiffening.

You stayed still, and she mumbled something. You pressed, “keep watching” on the screen and let the TV voices drown out your reality- the one in which Joel is awake, unknowing that you’re in his house and in his daughters bed.

But God, you have to pee. He scared the shit out of you. You raised off the bed slowly, making sure not to wake her. It had been five or so minutes since the sound, and nothing else had happened. He’s probably getting ready for work, you convinced yourself.

On a Saturday?

You check your phone to see if he had texted you. 5:46am. A new habit you’d formed in the past week since your last encounter. Nothing. Still.

So you tiptoed to the door and cracked it, letting the light from the TV guide you. Her bathroom was three doors down, she had told you earlier in the night. There was a nightlight on, too. You could see it pouring out from under the door.

No other lights in the house, or at least upstairs, seemed to be on. Joel had either left for work or went back to bed, whatever he was doing seemed done.

You cursed at yourself for not bringing your phone with you to use as a light, but it was one long hallway… you could do it. Deep breaths.

You made it halfway when you heard something downstairs and practically peed yourself right then, hurrying your footsteps to the nearest door. You opened it and backed in, looking at the stairs and down the hallway for any sign that he might have seen you.

Nothing. And then a breath that wasn’t yours.

“Oh, now you’re breakin’ and enterin’ into my house? Couldn’t stay away, huh? Coulda just called, Birdie.”

There’s no fucking way.

“Came to see Sarah and didn’t even say hi to your daddy? Mmm, what a shame.” You imagined he was shaking his head, but you couldn’t see too much from the fucking wrong night light in the corner of the wrong fucking room.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl ‘n lay low for a while?”

You turned around, slowly, and there he was. He was in boxers, laying in the bed you’d seen him fuck himself into. It smelled like him in here, too. The sheets were slept in, the same color as the ones he would shoot his spend into, grunting and calling you pretty names.

He was grinning, not even startled by the fact you were somehow standing in his room at 6am.

Lay low? That plan was never shared with you.

Heat washed over you, embarrassment maybe. You wanted to be needed by him, wanted to be grabbed, licked, kissed, handled. You’ve been waiting for him, but he hasn’t reached out. You wanted him to hold you like he held you in that bathroom, except this time you wanted him to push your face into his sheets while he did.

“Answer me,” he growled. He couldn’t have been up for long, his voice still heavy with sleep. It was lower in tone, deeper.

“I’m trying to be a good girl Joel, I-I was just looking for the ba-“

“No. A good girl wouldn’t fuck her best friends dad, n’ call him daddy while doin’ it. She wouldn’t come over and sleep in her bed, just to sneak into her dad’s room, doin’ and lookin’ for god knows what.”

He was enjoying this. He was just as much to blame- no, he was THE person to fucking blame for this.

“That’s fucking unfair, Joel. I came over here to try and put a patch over loose ends that you left whenever you left me in the floor of that bathroom,” you huffed, teary-eyed and still stunned, still sleepy. “I didn’t- I don’t, wanna hurt her.”

He stopped grinning then, sitting up. He didn’t lift his feet off the ground, but you were scared he might.

You felt like that same, scared little girl who was being punished and yelled at for letting a tear slip. But he was fucked just as much as you if this went public, and it emboldened you. You knew he didn’t want to hurt her either.

“You know what’s unfair?” You pointed at him, continuing in his silence.

“You. That I finally made a friend who is so good- so good- and you stalk me? You find me and you use me for some perverted pleasure that your wife didn’t give you, n now I have to pick up the pieces and lie to my best friend?”

He was face-to-face with you, staring down at you, waiting for you to dare open your mouth again. And then, his hand was around your neck and he was forcing you to look into his eyes.

“You don’t know ‘nothin’ ‘bout my ex-wife, don’t ever bring her up again. ‘Specially when you’re standing in my house, in my god damn bedroom. Got it?”

“No.” You gasped out.

His grip tightened.

“No?” He spat in disbelief.

“‘Musta forgot who you answer to. Didn’t know your pussy would forget so fast who she belongs to. Don’t make me put you back in your place, sweetheart.”

His nose meets yours, the hug of your face, faster than his lips. He nudges, wanting more. Sucking, teeth hitting teeth in a want to be as close to each other as possible. He goes for the bottom lip, always, tucking the side of his nose under yours. Gently. Then he returns to your lips and bites down, searching for blood. He get its, and he chuckles.

You gasped into his mouth.

“You need me to ruin you, huh?” He whispered into your hair as he pulled your head to the side, making it easier to suck on your neck. He was nipping at your jaw, licking lines like he had in your dreams. His hands were engulfing you and all you could do was stand there and take it, sucking the pain away from your own lips. Rough palms feeling at you.

You let out a plea for more.

“That’s why you came lookin’ for me? Sweet girl,” he purred, “couldn’t stay away? Want me to take care of you, stretch that tight hole around daddy’s cock, hmm?”

That hit a nerve, deep. You wanted to surrender yourself and hide in his arms. From the world, Sarah, yourself. You wanted to believe what he had whispered to you in the bathroom, you wanted to break against him and rest your bones.

But first, you wanted him to sink his teeth into you. To ruin you. And then maybe he would stick around this time and pick up the pieces.

He was solid, sturdy, safe. You reached up and put your hand on top of his, letting him know this is what you want, giving him the ‘okay’.

He didn’t even need to ask you, you walked closer to his bed and laid yourself over it, ass up, giving yourself to him. He sighed in lust, watching you sink into his sheets, spreading your smell onto them. You turned your head and laid your cheek against the soft, looking up at him.

You spread your legs and struggled out of your shorts, he stepped towards you and ripped them off. You were taking too long. The room was silent, save for both of your breathing.

“This what you needed?” The bed squeaked under you as he pulled you towards the end of and ordered you on your knees. He lined himself up with your core and spit after kissing your cunt with his tip.

The spit hit your pussy, tickling its way down as it dripped. He took his fingers to it, pushing it around and then into your hole. He used it to wet the head of his cock, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos at you, grabbing for the nape of your neck, pulling your hair and hence your head back towards him. It hurt so good, and your neck was at an angle that made it harder for your chest to rise and fall.

He slid into you at the same instance, and the breath you were halfway through caught in your throat, your whole body reacting to his length. Your eyes were watering from the intrusion, from the pain and simultaneous pleasure. He put his palm against your mouth, muting whatever scream had just come out.

And he fucks you while you grunt out sounds each time he hits that spot inside of you. Your eyes roll back, then focus again. His hand blocking not only your mouth but your nose. Your stomach is tighter, trying to fit his size. He’s breathing heavy above you, sweat dripping and falling onto your back, not realizing that he’s cutting off your air supply.

He’s doing what he said he would all of those times, fulfilling the promises he had made. It’s different now than in the bathroom. He was angry then, but he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home. He could do whatever he pleased, now. Sarah under the cover of the whispering TV in her room.

He throws his hips to yours, each one tearing moans from your throat. “There you go.” And suddenly you were seeing faint white lights in the corner of your vision. But you don’t care, you were just tired, blissed out. You felt comfortable under the weight of him, fucking into you. You relaxed and took what he was giving you. Over and over an-

His voice was muffled. He repeated himself.

“Hey, breathe for me, pretty thing.” And you do, forgetting it for a moment. He reached his wrist in front of you, taking your neck between his thumb and pointer finger. “Lemme feel you breathe baby. Gotta listen t’ me.” You sucked in what you could, and he ‘uh huh’ed you, feeling your neck contract and take in the air. “That’s right, just like that. Can’t have you passin’ out on me baby girl. Not there yet.”

He went slower for a moment, aware that he almost suffocated you. But he didn’t stop, and you were glad. He pulled out and decided he’d choke you with his cock, instead. You whimpered at the loss of him from inside of you, but you knew what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him.

You slipped from the bed to the ground, finding it harder to move and get on your knees than you thought. He’d fucked you silly, shaking, raw.

“Can I feel it? Let me feel it.” Ordering, more than allowing, the tip of his cock passed your lips and went straight for the back of your throat. You coughed him out, just for him to return again, dripping your saliva.

“Shhh, shhh, shhhh,” he whispered, grabbing fistfuls of hair on both sides of your head as he fucked his hips into your mouth, relentlessly. You felt something warm, wet drip from you and hit the ground next to your splayed legs beneath you.

“Cumming with my cock in your mouth? Knew you were a’ bad girl.” He was breathless, shocked at how you were letting him play with you, limp, almost. Fucked out. On the verge of passing out.

You didn’t know how many times your stomach had tightened and then released. How many times you came for him. You stopped counting after two, unable to do much of anything. Not wanting to be anything, then the person under his touch. Full of him.

And then you were wearing him again, bent over the edge of his bed, hips hurting from hitting the edge of the mattress.

“Joel,” you managed, “pl- please.”

“Now you’re talkin’? Couldn’t get any words out before. Poor baby. What do you need from me?”

“Hurts, Joel.”

He liked that.

“Want me to stop, then?”

“No,” your voice was hoarse.

“Then what do you need? Can’t give it to ya if you ain’t able to say it.”

“Inside. Cu- oh fuck- cum inside me. Please. Please, please.”

He liked the sound of you begging for him to fill you up.

“N’ whose cunt is this, baby? Who do you want to cum inside you?” And those filthy words pulled another orgasm from your hips.

“Your-“ you mumbled.

“Louder. Use those pretty words you know from goin’ ta school.”

“Yours Joel. This pussy is yours, s’all yours.”

“What a good girl.”

He halted as deep as he could inside of you with a groan, growl-like, and he filled you with his warmth.

He stayed inside, afterwards. Not wanting any of his spend to go to waste outside of your womb.

You didn’t say anything, fighting the urge to just fall asleep where you were, in the comfort of his bed. But you didn’t cry, either. And that was a first. He completely defiled you, yet you weren’t breaking under his touch. You felt like, even if it was fleeting, he broke you and then put you back together right. The correct way.

He pulled out and grunted, and suddenly you felt a soft cloth wiping at your core. He placed soft kisses up and down your shoulders and back as he cleaned you up, your goosebumps the only reaction you gave as you closed your eyes.

A few minutes passed.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, running his hands up and down your bare skin.

“Mhmm,” you let out.

“Look at me, Birdie. Need to hear it.”

You rolled over, more awake from the serious tone in his voice.

“Yes, Joel, I trust you.” But he didn’t looked like he believed you.

“Want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“Whatever you want.” Your patience was wearing thin, you just wanted to curl up and sleep, surrounded by him, surrounded by the smell of him, the safety.

You felt heavy.

He lifted himself off of the bed but you didn’t follow where he went, you caught yourself falling asleep again, so you slightly shook your head in an effort not to.

He returned and a hissing sound sprung through the air. Then immediately, something hard, cold, wet maybe? Slid across your skin. His weight was weighing down the bed as he sat back down next to you.

He moved your hair out of your face, rested your cheek against his palm and spoke clearly.

“Want my initials here, baby.” He was holding a switchblade against the inside of your thigh. “Remind you who you belong to while we figure s’all out.”

You were awake now.

He kept the blade there, but his eyes found yours, searching for an answer, praying you wouldn’t get up and run from him.

Instead, you took his wrist and moved it even closer to your core, on the inside of your thigh.

“How ‘bout… here?”

“S’perfect.”

He got off the bed then, sinking to his knees as he settled you comfortably on your back.

The birds were chirping through the window, the orange sun slipping past the blinds and onto his bed, streaking over his face. You welcomed the pain, if it felt anything like his pleasure. You trusted him. And you know you shouldn’t, but who is going to stop you?

He kissed up your legs, starting by leaving wet marks on the back of your knees. He made it to your nude mound and kissed it, too. Gently, soft.

“You sure?” He asked, for once, giving you an out if you wanted it.

“M’ sure, Joel.” He sighed at the sound of his name leaving your lips, sleepily. He reached your thigh and settled the blade comfortably in his hands.

He kissed you one more time in the spot he had chosen, and then he carved his initials into your body, slowly. Painfully. You hissed.

“Want me t’ stop?” He asked.

“No. It feels good.”

It felt like your own version of love, one both of you shared together, secretly.

The warmth spreed as his tongue followed the blood down your thigh, catching it before it fell to his sheets.

Taglist: @strang3lov3 @leeeesahhh @blackvelveteen1339 @huffle-punk @xxmr-potato-headxx @ssssc0m @paleidiot @sarap-77 @marchai @morallyinept @i-love-rafe @silkiers @gracevnn @scarletsloveletter @smol-beb @loriensasylum

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ifancyharry · 1 year

Text

Too late

Please let me know if you liked this, i love feedback!!

Word count: 6.8k

What is it: childhood friends to strangers to lovers; YN is getting married and she and Harry haven't spoken in five years. Harry hopes it's not too late, because he's been in love with her since he was 10. angst

TW: mentions of marijuana

When Harry received the invite he was coming back from his usual morning run. It had started as a rather nice kind of morning, really; the weather was warm and the sun kissed his tights with every jog he took, turning his skin a nice golden color, but not enough to make him sweat to the point of grossness.

Days like that were rare in London, especially in May, so Harry, while he was running, thought about five nice things he could do outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather. Of course, he obviously hadn’t taken in prospective the possibility of getting home to an invitation to his best friend’s wedding, so instead of sun bathing, eating his favorite meal on the porch and whatever other three things he’d come up with, he closed the door behind him, shut all the blinds, and sat on his bathroom floor for hours. And not what felt like hours. He really sat there until his bum had taken the shape of the floor’s tiles.

He has to admit, albeit without little shame, he tried to throw up a couple of times. He most definitely knows how dramatic that sounds, but call it poetic license or a really bad taste in romantic movies, it felt appropriate at the time. Because he really did feel like throwing up.

When he started feeling too pathetic to excuse his behavior, he jogged downstairs once again, and he picked up the invite in between his fingers. If he��s being honest, he really hoped the letter wouldn’t be there anymore. He’d rather have imagined it. A nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from, or perhaps a sick joke? YN wasn’t like that. She could never joke about such things.

Harry was definitely the more unserious out of the two, and even he wouldn’t dare to pull such a prank on her. So he knew the invite was real.

After a brief moment where he seriously contemplated going MIA and pull another ‘kissy’ post and disappear until the upcoming year, he took out his phone from his hoodie’s pocket and opened the calendar app.

As he came closer to the date, he was praying to god he’d be busy. Call him coward all you want. He was really hoping YN chose the date of the Met (it’s not like he was planning on going, but he’d definitely reconsider if it meant missing her wedding) or the date he’d set for an album release. She hadn’t. She actually chose a nice, free Sunday at the end of the month. And Harry felt like lying on the bathroom floor all over again.

If Harry was any other person in the world, he would have felt guilty. Because you’re supposed to be happy if your best friend’s getting married. Except, Harry isn’t like other people. Because Harry’s been in love with YN since he was a child; since the very first moment she moved next door and Harry wasn’t even old enough to know what love was all about. He’s certainly aged now, and with it you’d think the love he felt for her could have subdued, or fade, but it never did. It stayed with him until the very day he received the invite.

Harry eyes briefly the piece of paper in his hands, ‘You’re invited to YN and Graham’s wedding’ and bla bla bla, written in that one font Harry despises (he truly doesn’t, he wasn’t even aware that font existed before this morning), and he feels the sudden urge to pick up a lighter and burn it. That’s how much he despises that font. That’s how much he loves YN. Because seeing her name close to another who isn’t his, makes him want to never get out of bed ever again — he contemplated doing that already, and, frankly, he probably will, at least until he isn’t required to do something like a show or whatever else Jeff schedules for him.

The thing is that the invite wouldn’t have had this effect on him if YN and Harry were still friends. Because despite Harry still calling YN his best friend, he doesn’t know if she considers him even a friend anymore, and he made it that way. It’s his fault. Harry, who’s someone who never takes accountability for anything, knows it’s his fault. And everyone around them knows, but sometimes Mitch, who maybe cares about him to the point of hiding the truth from him for his sake, tells him it wasn’t his fault entirely; he says: you followed your heart, so you made the right choice — which coming from Mitch means a lot. But Harry, despite appreciating the effort, knows it’s not true. Because he did follow his heart, but he lost her. So really, he would have preferred a life in pain beside her. Because now he’s still in pain but without her. So who won?

YN never thinks about Harry. She doesn’t think about him when she’s shopping at Primark and sees a fruit theme stuffy she knows he’d like, she doesn’t think about him when she gets in the car and her bluetooth connects to his playlist on her Spotify automatically (she told Graham many times it wasn’t her fault, it was kind of a default thing her car did), she’s not thinking about him now, in front of her closet, debating whether she should wear a dress he bought her for her wedding rehearsal dinner.

YN sometimes likes to pretend she never knew Harry. She likes to pretend she never moved next door to him when she was only ten, she likes to pretend he never auditioned on xfactor, she likes to pretend she loves Graham as much as she loves Harry.

Other times, YN likes to pretend there’s a universe in which Harry’s the one she’s marrying. In this universe, she imagines never meeting Graham, she imagines Harry never leaving and shattering her heart, she imagines the cat they’d adopt, the house they’d buy, how they’d raise their children; in this universe she sees herself always happy.

She knows she’s not being fair to Graham, so she lets herself linger in this universe only for a couple of minutes and especially on hard days when she feels overwhelmed, it doesn’t make it more morally right, she’s aware of that, but what else could she really do?

When YN sent Harry that invite, she certainly didn’t think he’d come. It’s not like she appositely called Jeff and asked — begged — him to free his schedule the day of her wedding. She asked Glenn instead because she’s friendlier with her.

A part of YN still wonders why she did it, from time to time. Maybe, if she was a bad person, she could’ve done it because she wanted Harry to see her happy and in love. But she’s not like that. She could never imagine hurting him in that way.

So, she always comes to the conclusion that maybe she sent the invite because she just misses him. It’s not like she has to have another reason. Missing him is enough.

She knows no one is truly aware of the affection she feels for Harry. What she feels for him isn’t nowhere near what she feels for Graham. In the past, she used to be so scared of feeling such things for another, because with those feelings came the realization that she also had something to lose. And she truly felt like she couldn’t do it without him.

But then, he left her. And she did do it without him. She met Graham, graduated college, and got engaged. And at one point, she felt like she’d give up everything to have Harry beside her again. So, can you blame her if she remembered his address by heart? Can you blame her if she invited him?

Harry feels like a pretentious asshole.

He hates his car; he hates the flashy yellow color of his Ferrari, the sound it makes when he revs the engine and all heads turn to look at him. All but one, because YN’s the only one that recognizes him by the sound of his car. Even five years later.

When he gets out of the car, he feels like everyone’s looking at him, and he doesn’t dare shift his gaze to see if she’s looking at him too. He feels like they all know what he did that night, that he broke her heart. He feels exposed before them.

He’s glad YN invited Jeff and Glenn too, and he waits for them to get out of their car too before approaching the crowd.

“So nice!” Glenn exclaims once she’s out of the car, shutting the passenger’s door loudly behind her.

Harry looks around and has to admit, it really is nice. A nice old cottage in the English countryside, with a big well-kept garden full of flowers he knows it’s where the wedding will take place (because YN loves flowers). It’s nice. He’d be a liar if he said otherwise, but it’s not YN. Because YN, or at least the version he knew of her, wanted to get married in the winter — on Christmas Eve —, in a small chalet with only her close family and friends, where the snow would never stop falling and they’d be forced to stay in with the fireplace popping and wool, chunky blankets to keep everyone warm.

“YN!” He hears Glenn once again, and he shifts his attention to her.

She’s standing on the porch, wrapped in a long black coat definitely too warm for the weather, and despite being far from where he’s standing, he can see her clearly. She hasn’t changed. It’s still her.

Harry doesn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe a more grown up version of her, definitely boring and that kind of resembled her mother a bit. He wasn’t expecting her. The YN he once knew still there, perhaps more beautiful than ever.

He feels his heart skip a beat, and with her walking slowly towards them, waving politely at a couple of guests that stop to greet her on the way, he feels warm. A kind of warm that resembles the one he felt as a kid when he was sick and his mum would take care of him. He feels something that reminds him of a certain familiarity, like he had been floating all this time and he’s finally back on the ground. He feels parts of himself coming back with every step she takes forward.

“Hello” he hears her giggle, and he feels the sound resonate in his chest, spreading all over his body up until the very end of his fingers.

“Hi!” Glenn squeals, shrugging her shoulders and stretching her arms forward, closing YN in a hug between her arms.

“I’m so happy you came” she says, her voice muffled by Glenn’s shoulder, and Harry isn’t sure if she means him too.

She hasn’t exactly looked at him, but Harry isn’t upset about that. He knows her. He knows how she is. She never makes eye contact when she’s uncomfortable. And Harry feels a certain smugness come with it. He’d rather make her uncomfortable than uninterested, because with her uncomfortableness comes the realization that maybe, maybe — deep down, under her skin and rooted in her heart — she did miss him too. And maybe it’s not like Mitch says. Maybe it was his fault and he should’ve fought for her.

However, Harry realizes things always late; because she’s getting married to someone else now.

YN briefly hugs Jeff too, and after that, she smiles awkwardly at Harry and waves at him with her hand, “Hey” she says, her hand dropping by her side.

“Hey” he replies, and he watches as she hugs the coat closer to her body as a sudden gust of wind embraces them, ruffing her hair. Harry can make out the faint scent of her shampoo, and as it fills his nostrils, his mind is swarmed with memories of hot summer nights where they would talk in bed for hours after swimming in his stepdad’s pool all day, minds free of whatever worry a 15 year old could have, sweaty bodies sticky together, tanned skin against skin, Harry not being able to make out where he’d end and she’d begin.

“This place is so nice!” Glenn interrupts, and YN is grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what she would’ve done if Glenn hadn’t talked. She fears she would’ve leaned in to hug Harry if she’d stared a second more into his green eyes.

In the five years they spent apart, YN always wondered if there would come a time when she’d no longer remember the exact shade of green of his eyes and the way they used to twinkle when he’d talk about something he was passionate about.

Now, YN doesn’t know what things Harry’s passionate about, but his eyes are the same color she remembered. Despite the stubble on his chin, and the cheeky grin he used to give her turning in a more mature one, his eyes stayed the same.

“I know, right! Graham picked it, he used to come here on vacation with his family when he was a child” YN smiles happily at Glenn, and turns her body to look around herself.

Harry frowns at her words. Of course Graham picked it. She never would’ve if it was up to her, he knew that. And somehow, call him an asshole all you want, he feels a certain smugness coming with the awareness that he knows YN more than her own fiancee does.

“It’s nice” he agrees, and he smirks at her when she snaps her head in his direction, probably not expecting him to talk, “but I prefer winter weddings, you know? With the snow and everything…”

YN’s happy smile turns in a frown when she hears the words come out of his mouth. She isn’t entirely sure about Harry’s motives. She doesn’t know if he remembers that she wanted to get married in winter or if he’s just expressing a preference. She doesn’t know this Harry anymore.

“It’s beautiful, YN” Jeff chimes in, and YN shifts her glance towards him and smiles at him too.

“Let’s go, then! I want to introduce you to Graham” she exclaims, and turns around, grabbing Glenn by the arm and intertwining it with hers.

“C’mon” Jeff says, patting Harry on the shoulder as an encouragement.

Harry nods and starts to walk beside him, his hands tucked in his pockets as another gust of wind flies over them.

He watches YN walk in front of him, too occupied to talk with Glenn to close her coat against the wind, and he’s sure he can make out the floral design of the Gucci dress he bought her on his vacation to Italy many years ago. How happy she looked when she opened it, and Harry remembers he thought about how much he wanted to buy her every pretty dress in the world if it meant seeing her so happy.

He kisses his mouth at the memory of every dress he saw in those five years and that he thought about buying. Now, knowing she still wears his gifts, he wishes he did. He wishes he bought everything that reminded him of her.

Harry knows it’s just a dress, and he shouldn’t get this flustered over such a simple thing as that! But with it comes the realization that maybe, in her deepest subconscious, she wore it for him. And Harry’s content with that. Because maybe then that means that those five years apart didn’t mean anything. Maybe then she missed him as much as he missed her. And Harry feels warm at the mere thought. Maybe he hasn’t lost her entirely.

Harry met Graham, and everything went somehow fine.

It’s not like she was imagining Harry fighting Graham over her — no, that’s just a thought that pops in her mind every once in a while when she catches herself fantasizing over what her life with Harry could be like.

It’s weird to YN how there’s someone in her life that Harry didn’t know until she introduced him. And not just someone; her future husband. It sets a weird kind of awareness, because until now she was almost pretending Harry was in an island unknown to mankind, without his phone and that’s why he wasn’t calling.

Now, seeing him shake her fiancee’s hand, smiling politely at him, she realizes Harry wasn’t stranded on an island without technology; the missing phone calls were a choice. So she should be happy she’s no longer involved with such a person.

Why isn’t she happy, though? Why does she catches herself wishing she could go up to his room, lay on his bed and talk to him?

She really wishes she could tell him she’s scared of marrying Graham. She knows he could tell him that and he wouldn’t judge her like everyone else would. She knows he’d have the answer. He’d say something like “get your stuff, I’ll start the car” and they’d laugh and run away to the nearest McDonald’s drive through to stuff their mouth with a big mc or some chicken nuggets, and Harry would purposely stain her wedding dress with barbecue sauce, and she’d laugh. As I said before, whenever she catches herself fantasizing about an alternative universe with Harry, she’s alway happy.

So, then, why didn’t she call? Why did she let five years pass? Five years without hearing his voice. Seeing his eyes.

She doesn’t know why.

At first she was mad, because Harry made love to her and then he left. So she was really really mad. Then, after the anger had subdued, she got scared. Scared he didn’t want her anymore. Scared their friendship wouldn’t be like before — now, she thinks it doesn’t matter if their friendship had changed. She wanted Harry around, no matter what.

She’s aware sometimes nostalgia makes you remember things that were never there. But she feels like it was different with Harry; it’s why she’s walking towards his room now, heart in her throat, and hands twitching at her sides.

She wishes it could be easier. She wishes she could be different. She has a fiancee. Why is she going to Harry’s room? Why did she invite him in the first place!

The cottage has six rooms upstairs, and she remembers exactly in which room she put Harry. He’s the only one without a plus one, so his room is smaller than the others. She hopes he liked it, but she knows he didn’t. It’s too fancy, for him. He doesn’t like flashy things, which is kind of ironic for someone who owns six cars, but who is she to judge when she helped him pick the very one he came here with?

When she stops in front of his door, she feels ashamed, and she’s scared someone may catch her, even if she’s not doing anything wrong, just greeting an old friend. But Harry wasn’t always a friend. There was one night in which they were more than friends, and she feels herself fluster at the thought of being alone with him in a bedroom.

She releases a big breath and closes her hand in a fist, knocking it against the door.

When he doesn’t answer she tries again, “Harry, it’s YN”, she clarifies.

Nothing.

She stands before the door for a couple of minutes, but then realizes he’s not going to answer. He doesn’t want to see her.

It’s fine. She’s fine.

She understands, it’s been five years. She can’t pretend nothing has changed between them. She feels stupid when she turns around to head back to her room and a single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away before anyone can see. She refuses to cry. She cried enough when he left.

This gave her the answer she needed. She’s marrying Graham, and if before she wished Harry’d persuade her in not marrying him, she knows he doesn’t care now.

Harry’s sitting on the his bedroom’s floor, freshly showered, his hair still a little damp from the water, waiting near the outlet on the wall for his phone to charge. He’s playing with the chord of his phone’s charger as he listens to his mother rumble on the other side of the line.

He’s not paying much attention to what she’s saying, his mind is definitely more focused on this morning’s encounter he had with YN’s fiancee. Harry tried to be on his best behavior, because despite hating Graham, he loves YN and he wants to be respectful of her choices. Harry has always been someone that never fought for what he wanted. He kind of always went with other’s decisions. He doesn’t know why he’s like this. Sometimes he thinks it’s just easier to let others decide for you, other times he’s aware it’s a matter of accountability: he doesn’t want to be responsible for his own choices, because then if something goes wrong, he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

“How’s YN? I’ve seen her Instagram and she looks even more beautiful” he hears his mum say, and his eyes widen at her words.

“Mmmh, yes, she’s beautiful” Harry agrees, chewing at the skin of his thumb.

“Do you think she’ll have a baby soon?” Anne asks, and Harry almost wants to throw his phone against the wall at the mere thought of the love of his life having a baby with someone else.

“I don’t know, mum… I don’t think so” he shakes his head, but his words aren’t that much convincing to him. He doesn’t know if YN wants to have a baby with Graham. She had expressed her desire to have a big family when they were still friends and when she thought the timing was right, but was it now? Was it with Graham? He honestly doesn’t know.

“You know, I always thought she had a little bit of a crush on you” Anne giggles, almost childishly.

“She’s getting married” Harry says, and his tone suddenly turned stern. He doesn’t want to be rude, especially to his mum, but thoughts of what could’ve been have been hunting him especially hard since he saw her, and he doesn’t want to come to terms with the fact that maybe something could’ve happened between them if he had been a little more brave.

“She isn’t married now” his mum says, and he rolls his lips in his mouth.

Weird enough, he knows what his mother means: she’s giving him an ultimatum, a sweet reminder that there’s still time. She’s not married yet. But what could Harry do? He really wishes someone could tell him. He wants his mum to say, Harry, tell her you love her before it’s too late. And he swears he’d do it. He’d do it right now. But coming up with that decision on his own? He’s not that much impulsive.

“Mum” he says, “I have to go now. It’s time for dinner”.

“Okay, my love.” She replies.

“We’ll talk tomorrow” he nods, and ends the call, throwing his phone in his lap.

He shuts his eyes tightly and his head drops between his knees, his hands reaching up to clutch his hair at the roots.

He feels pathetic. He feels like screaming in a pillow. He picks up his phone again and taps at the scree to check the time: 7.37 pm. At this time tomorrow the love of his life will be married to someone that’s not him.

Harry is late. Everyone has already eaten their appetizer and he still hasn’t shown up. Yn knows she probably shouldn’t care, especially after he didn’t answer the door after she knocked on it three times feeling like a naive teenager with a school crush. But still. She wonders what he’s doing. It’s not like she blames him, this dinner is pretty boring, and coming from the bride says a lot! But Graham especially requested no music and no dancing while eating, so the room is kind of quiet, albeit for a soft giggle or whispered words every once in a while.

She’s biting in her pasta when Harry walks in, and suddenly she feels breathless. He’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that warms her insides and reminds her of the color yellow, the sun shining when they visited Rome together, the tan he used to get at his stepdad’s pool when she’d spend hours looking at his lips while he sunbathed and she wondered if they tasted like chlorine. Beautiful.

He walks slowly towards where he spots Jeff and Glenn, and YN looks at him shamelessly; he’s wearing cream tailored pants that hug his tights perfectly, paired with a silky blue blouse tucked at the front of the pants. She swallows the mouthful of pasta. When they were friends he definitely didn’t dress like that, he was more into skinny jeans and flowery button down shirts. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like him like this. But, must I dare say, she’d like Harry even if he was wearing a trash bag.

He throws her an awkward smile before sitting down, and she shifts her eyes down on her plate, suddenly aware of being caught staring.

As dinner goes on, she never raises her eyes from her plate, not even when she feels a familiar pair of green eyes burning her skin.

YN pushes her palm against the wooden door and takes in a big breath once the fresh spring air hits her warm face. She takes a step outside and the door closes behind her with a thump. She cringes at the sound and hopes it didn’t wake anyone up.

It’s almost one in the morning and she couldn’t sleep. She doesn’t know wether it’s pre-wedding anxiety or the thought of another universe soon to be lost forever, but she felt a heavy weight on her chest that made it hard to breathe.

She looks at the garden before her and decides she wants to take a walk in the rose garden. She’s always loved flowers, and she thinks seeing some beauty could help her clear her mind.

She makes her way down the cobbled path, illuminated by some lamps paved across the way, but when she reaches the start of the rose garden, she has to blink a few times to accustom her eyes to the darkness.

The garden is the only thing she likes about her wedding location, and she’s thankful Graham agreed to get married there. He decided everything else, so at least he left that part up to her.

When she turns the corner of the hedge that divided the rose garden from the location of the wedding, she’s surprised to see a dark figure sitting in one of the reception’s chair.

She walks closer and she’s able to make out a familiar pair of broad shoulders bent over. Harry’s sitting on a chair from the first row, his head hanging low between his shrugged shoulders, his legs are slightly opened and his forearm is resting on one of his tights, the bright fire red of what she knows is a joint illuminating the side of his face.

She’d recognize Harry even in darkness, but she still feels her heart fall to her chest when she realizes he’s right in front of her, sitting probably where he’d be tomorrow.

She debates whether she should go sit next to him or go back to her room and pretend she never saw him. It’s almost like she can’t control her own legs when they start to walk towards him.

With the movement, Harry turns his head around and his eyes widen at the sight; YN’s walking towards him, but what’s most shocking to him is that she’s making her way down the aisle. He suddenly gets up on his feet when he sees her, and when she stops right in front of him, she gives him a mischievous smile.

She’s breath taking. If this is what Graham will see tomorrow, he doesn’t know how he’ll manage not to faint.

“Walked like a true bride!” He says jokingly, and she giggles at his words, slapping his chest lightly. Harry feels the skin burn under her touch.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and she shakes her head.

“Can I?” She says, gesturing to the lit joint he’s holding between his fingers. He’d almost forgotten what he was doing before she appeared.

“Mhmh” he nods, stretching his arm.

She doesn’t take the joint from his fingers though, she just opens her mouth and waits for him to place it between her lips, and Harry swears he can feel himself faint, his head dizzy with all the love he feels for her.

He holds the joint between her lips and she takes a long drag from it, tilting her head towards his fingers, closing her eyes after she inhales. She opens her mouth again and opens her eyes as she exhales the smoke from her mouth, Harry watching closely her every movement, his eyes dark and glazed over.

He watches as she turns around and sits on one of the white chairs, the one next to where he was sitting before, and she tugs one leg to her chest as she hugs it closer to her chest.

Harry stays standing before her for a while, looking at the faint image of the cottage behind her and absentmindedly smoking his joint. When he feels her eyes on him, he looks down at her. It’s been years since they’ve been this close, and suddenly he’s 15 years old again, his hands twitching at his sides from how much he wants to stretch them out and just touch her.

“Graham is nice” he says, and immediately after he cursers himself in his mind for ruining the moment when he sees her gaze harden.

“Yeah, he is…” she whispers.

Harry tilts the joint towards her to ask her if she wants another hit, but she shakes her head no and he drops his hand at his side, nodding his head.

“I really like the place, by the way. I was only teasing this morning” he shrugs, smiling at her.

“You were?” She asks, and when he nods she says, “so you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” And he doesn’t have to say anything more, because they both know what he means.

“Graham picked everything” she releases a shaky breath at that, and Harry takes another drag from his joint and raises both his eyebrows to signal her to continue as he exhales the smoke from his mouth.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t want this” she shakes her head, shifting her gaze from his eyes to an indefinite point behind him.

Harry wonders whether she means the cottage or the wedding. Perhaps she even means their fight. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t dare ask, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that maybe she’s offering him an opening to a conversation he isn’t sure he wants to have.

“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful anyway.” He smiles and throws the joint’s butt on the grass.

“Yeah” she nods firmly, and he’s aware of the tension lingering between them.

“I better go,” she says, getting up from the chair and tugging at the sleeves of her sweater to cover her hands “big day tomorrow”.

She smiles awkwardly at him when she walks past him, and Harry notices the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

He shifts his gaze in front of him, staring out in the darkness. He’s about to lose her all over again, the bitter night five years prior vivid in his memory, hitting him like a bullet. He thought the pain from leaving her that night had left, and he wonders how much time it will take for it to stop hurting. Maybe it never will.

He’s sure he doesn’t want to live his life with the memory of her back planted in his brain, leaving him once again. He doesn’t want to think back to her and remember her like this. Leaving.

So, when she’s about mid way through the aisle, he calls her name.

He doesn’t have a speech in his mind, and when she turns around with her brows furrowed and her shoulders sagged he doesn’t really know what to say, how to tell her.

“What, Harry?” It’s the first time he hears her say his name in five years, and he’s upset she sounds so defeated. He wishes he could make this easier for her, but he doesn’t know how.

His chest floats as he takes a big breath.

“Whatever” she says, shaking her head, but Harry notices she doesn’t turn around.

“Don’t marry him” it’s the only thing he manages to say, and he isn’t even looking at her, he’s still looking out in front of him, and she wishes he could look at her to see if he’s joking or not.

She scoffs, because despite the words coming out of his mouth made her insides warm , she isn’t sure if he’s being serious. “You’re so… so immature! You enrage me!”

“No, no!” He hurries, waving his palms in front of him. “Hear me out, then you can — you can leave. if you want you can leave.” He nods, trying to convince himself, but he really doesn’t want her to leave.

“Don’t marry him. You know he’s not right for you! He… he’s controlling, he doesn’t know you! You shouldn’t marry someone like that.” He’s standing in front of her now, and he grabs her hands in his.

“Is that the only reason you don’t want me to marry him?” She whispers, looking up in his eyes.

“No… i-“ he sighs.

“You can’t even say it, Harry.” She frowns, trying to free her hands from his grip, but he only tightens it, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I can say it.” He nods, “i don’t want you to marry him because I want it to be me. I— I have loved you since I could remember.”

She shuts her eyes tightly at his words, “you don’t mean that”.

Harry frees her hands and reaches for her face, caressing her warm cheeks with his thumbs.

“I do. I do.” He nods, “look at me, angel — please look at me”

YN opens her eyes and Harry can feel his heart clench at the sight of her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

“You had me, Harry. All those years ago, you had me. But you let me go! You have no idea how… how hard it was”

This time, Harry closes his eyes and then reopens them, despite being aware, the thought of making her suffer is hard to face.

“I thought… I didn’t…—“ he shakes his head, his hands still keeping the firm grip on her face, “my life was hard, YN. It was crazy. I thought… you weren’t ready. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“You did anyway. I hated you for what you did to me. I hated you for leaving.” She frowns, tears spilling from her eyes, but Harry wipes quickly at them with his thumb before they can roll down her cheeks. He leans down to place a delicate kiss between her eyes.

“I never once left you. In my heart it has always been you.”

He can feel her start to soften, but the she says “It’s too late now.”, and she shakes her head, her hands reaching up to remove Harry’s from her face. He complies, not wanting to force her. “I’m getting married, tomorrow.”

“Angel, please” he whispers, but she’s already turned around, and Harry’s left alone in the middle of the aisle.

Suddenly he feels nauseous, and he brings a hand to his chest to calm his restless heart. As I said before, Harry realizes things always too late.

The next morning, Harry wakes up on his bed with the sound of an alarm he forgot he’d set. As he rubs the sleep off his eyes, he can’t wait to get the hell out of this place as soon as he can, and when he reaches for his phone and checks the time, he remembers why he set the alarm so early in the morning: this way he can avoid everyone from the ceremony on his way out.

He can’t bare the thought of sitting through the wedding. He’ll send YN some fancy gift that she’ll enjoy with her husband and then he’ll disappear from her life once again.

He knows it’s better this way.

He did it one time before. He knows already how long it will take to mourn their lost friendship and get back on track. The sooner he goes home and sleeps his feelings off, the sooner he’ll feel better.

He hurriedly throws his clothes in his suitcase, without caring if they get wrinkly or ruined. He grabs his phone and its charger and doesn’t even bother to check the bathroom twice to see if he left something behind. He doesn’t care, he’s eager to get far away and never face the heartbreak he’s leaving with.

As soon as he opens the door, though, the bag in his hand falls from his grip to the ground as he takes in the image in front of him.

YN’s against the other side of the wall, her head hung low between her shoulders.

“YN?” He asks, and she looks at him with her big, glossy eyes, and Harry feels like staying. He feels like grabbing her hand and tugging her inside, kissing her until he’s finally able to show her how much he loves her.

“I’m not… I—“ she shakes her head, her voice trembling as she gets her back off the wall and takes a step towards him, “i called the wedding off.”

It’s the only thing she says, but Harry feels butterflies fly in his stomach. His heart clenches in his chest, and he has to bring a hand to his chest like he did the night before to make sure he’s not having a heart attack.

“It’s not too late.” She whispers, “if you still want me, it’s not too late.”

Harry reaches up to her and tugs her closer to him by her arm.

“I’ll never not want you”.

YN steps in the room and closes the door behind her, and Harry gently takes her face in his hands and tilts her head up. He looks from one eye to the other attentively before placing his lips against hers, and he almost contemplates not closing his eyes in fear she’d no longer be there when he reopens them, but YN moves her hands from his neck, to his shoulders, and he feels her grabbing his shirt between her fingers and holding him closer, her fingers digging in his skin. She’s real. She’s here, and he’s kissing her. It’s been five years since he’s last tasted her, and this time he’s kissing her without guilt. Because it’s not too late. Life just started.

YN parts her lips slightly and Harry sucks her bottoms lip in his mouth, eager to taste her more.

His tongue licks over her lips and when she whimpers against his lips, he sneaks his tongue inside her mouth and caresses hers with his. He explores her mouth like his life depends on it, and he feels like he wants to drink her. He wants to get drunk on her taste and never recover.

YN moves her hands from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, tugging on it, and Harry parts from her mouth breathlessly. He feels dizzy and he’s not entirely sure it’s from the lack of air.

“No” he says, taking her hands in his and squeezing them in his grasp.

YN pouts at him and he tilts his head to kiss it away from her lips with a brief peck: “i want you. I really do. But not here”.

She widens her eyes at his words and realizes she was almost about to have sex with Harry when her ex fiancee and his family could hear them. She giggles loudly at the thought, and Harry, despite not knowing why she’s laughing, lets out a chuckle, shaking his head and looking at her with a bewildered look in his eyes.

“Let’s leave then.” She says when she calms down.

“Okay.” He nods, picking up his bag from the floor, “get your stuff. I’ll start the car.”

YN bites down on her bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“What?” He says once he realizes she still hasn’t moved from her place.

She shakes her head, “nothing” she says, “i’m glad I wasn’t too late.”

“You could never be too late” he smiles, and he hopes she knows he’d wait for her all his life if it meant having her beside him.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #harry styles #harry syles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry #friends to lovers

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

she gets the flowers | na jaemin

title: she gets the flowers

pairing: na jaemin x fem!oc/reader

genre: song-fic, childhood friends to fwb to lovers to exes, fluff, smut/suggestive, angst | requested and inspired by she gets the flowers by beth mccarthy

summary: the person you shared every moment of your life with could never betray you, right? That was what she thought before Jaemin proved that he could turn from her soulmate to the biggest source of her pain.

warnings: mentioned drinking and smoking underage, smut, mostly suggestive, oral sex (f receiving, a bit more explicit), angst, no cheating but still feelings of betrayal, attempted suicide (not really, but just in case)

words: 6.855k

a/n: first of all, i'm incredibly sorry this took so long but i was going crazy trying to come up with a plot because the song led me to a plot similar to traitor so that's why it took so long. But I'm happy with the result and i hope you'll like it too. warning: probably it's even sadder than my other angst fics so prepare the tissues, i guess???

There’s something beautiful in growing up together and sharing every day of your life with somebody. It’s a type of bond that nothing in the world can replicate.

That was her relationship with Jaemin. She and Jaemin had shared their entire life together. It wasn’t like they had a choice when their mothers that were best friends for ages, casually ended up pregnant at the same time and gave birth to them only two days apart. Being raised side by side even if they weren’t related was something they couldn’t escape. And without realizing it, they became such a big part of each other’s life that living without each other was hard.

They did everything together. All the dumb things you have to do at least once in your life. All their first times. All their heartbreaks, and joys. There wasn’t a single moment they didn’t share.

Despite this, they were different. Jaemin wasn’t exactly a bad boy, not like the bullies type, at least, but he was the most reckless of the two. Always getting her in trouble, while she tried hard to still be the good girl she always was.

“Jaemin, this is dumb,” she said, trying to stop him from climbing the roof of the store. That was the first time he took her there, only seventeen, the perfect age to try dumb things they couldn’t do.

“Is it?” He asked, his hand reaching for hers to help her get up.

She sighed before briefly looking around, making sure that nobody could see them and then followed him.

“You’re so damn hard to convince sometimes,” he whispered, lips puffing out as he let out the smoke of the cigarette he had stolen from his dad’s jacket, head inclined enough so he could look at her. The chill breeze of October blowing on them.

“And you’re reckless,” she huffed, resting her head on her knees, looking in front of her, they could see a small part of the neighborhood from there, and maybe it was worth the risk.

“Here,” he said, handing her a bottle of soju and she pushed his hand away. “Oh, come on, that’s not dumb.”

“You know I get drunk too easily, I will kill myself trying to climb down again.”

Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head, before turning off the cigarette and drinking the alcohol instead.

“The things I do for you,” he joked when he was done, moving closer to her, wrapping a hand around her shoulders. Her head leaned in immediately, cheeks brushing against the blue jacket he was wearing.

“That’s because you love me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead.

And that was so normal for them that they never truly weighted the words they said to each other. The ‘I love yous’ didn’t mean anything, just like it didn’t mean how they always held each other’s hands when they walked side by side, and always called each other for help.

It was normal, from the crib to when they went to high school and still looked at each other with the same old eyes. It was fine because they both had their own adventures, and they didn’t need each other for that.

Until something wasn’t enough anymore. Until they started to realize they couldn’t find each other in other people. That their beds were always going to be cold if at their side it wasn’t them.

They had no idea how their first kiss happened, or what exactly lead them there. After a long day at Uni, once again on that rooftop with the breeze freezing them. Hesitant lips getting closer, and shy eyes looking into each other, silently asking each other if it was worth it.

When their lips touched their questions were answered. It was. It was worth putting on a line all their years of friendships.

But they had the bad habit of never calling things with a name. That was their relationship since they were kids. It worked without trying.

But they seemed to forget they weren’t five or ten anymore. They were grown-ups. They should’ve talked, should’ve put a name on it, and set some rules. Anything to don’t end up in ashes.

But they didn’t and that kiss was followed by another. This time not so shy or full of fear. Their hands moved freely on their bodies, touching each other in ways they never imagined before. But once again it stopped there, as much as they were pulled by this force, the fear of taking a treacherous path was high.

Until things took a different turn again.

“Wasn’t expecting you here,” Jaemin said, opening the door of the apartment he shared with his friends.

“I’m so tired,” she huffed, kissing him quickly and then falling down on his couch, throwing her bag next to her. “I have two essays to turn in and I have no idea when I’ll write them.”

“Maybe you could start now,” he proposed, pointing at the books on the coffee table. “We could study together.”

“I don’t want to study,” she replied, crossing her arms on her chest.

Jaemin sat next to her, his hand caressing her cheek, making her turn around in surprise.

“I can help you though,” she stuttered, gulping, wanting to pull away from him but at the same time she just wanted to crave more at his touch. “Would never want to come between your studies.”

“We can do something funnier,” he proposed, and only then she turned around, seeing his eyes locked on her lips.

“This is another one of your dumb ideas,” she whispered.

“Is it?” He asked, same old smirk on his face that then turned into a smile that made her melt.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, you know it,” she mumbled, lying, knowing she was lying. Because she wanted it, she wanted that to happen for such a long time.

“Just this time,” he whispered, breath fanning against her lips. “Just once.”

But it hadn’t been just once.

It had happened over and over again.

“Jaemin, fuck.” The loud music was muffled in his room as the party downstairs kept going on. But her mind wasn’t there, it was focused on Jaemin’s face buried between her legs and his hands wrapped around her thighs as he ate her out while she stood against the wall. Too eager to even wait of getting on the bed or undressing her completely.

“You taste so good,” he mumbled pressed against her wet flesh, nose teasing her clit while his lips and tongue worked perfectly to bring her over the edge so soon.

“I’m close,” she breathed out, fingers intertwining in his hair, pulling hard as the orgasm made her tremble.

“Need you,” Jaemin muttered as soon as he pulled away, licking his lips before dragging her body on his bed. Their clothes were on the floor in a second and Jaemin’s hands ran all over her body.

“Quit playing and just fuck me,” she urged, hips grinding against him.

“You’re so impatient,” he groaned before leaning over the bedside table to grab a condom, ripping the wrap and rolling it down his length.

“If you didn’t tease me all night, maybe,” she said, spreading her legs more, waiting for him to slip inside her. “Shit, so good.”

Moans and whimpers got lost in the night as the party went on downstairs without their care, too busy burning into each other’s flames and lying into ashes on the bed as what was going on between them grew bigger and bigger every day.

There’s something extremely painful about one-sided love. And it only gets worst when the person that gets you weak in the knees is your best friend.

She should’ve known it was a dumb idea. She should’ve stopped it before it even started but by now it was too late. She was too deep into that. And she was once again half naked in Jaemin’s bed, getting drunk in a pleasure that wasn’t enough to water the pain any longer.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she snapped, standing up, pushing his body away, and trying to look for her clothes again.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, grabbing his boxer just to cover himself the quicker he could and reaching her.

She sighed, slipping on herself his shirt, lifting her head up to push down the tears. “No, I… it’s my fault,” she confessed, turning around again, looking for her pants but the tears in her eyes made it impossible for her to see. And the salty drops filled her eyes even more when she felt Jaemin’s arms wrap around her.

“Hey, calm down,” he whispered, turning her around, her head falling in the crook of his neck as she let him lull her, his hands caressing her back. “It’s alright, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” she mumbled through sobs. “I can’t keep having you like this without truly having you.”

Jaemin was surprised by her words and pulled away to stare at her face. “You mean the sex?”

She nodded, the palm of her hand wiping away her tears. “I thought my heart was safe but I love you. And I know you don’t love me back, I know this was just… just the easiest thing we could do but I – I love you so much. I’ve been loving you for too long without knowing,” she sobbed. “And I know you don’t feel the same –”

“Who said that?” Jaemin stopped her immediately.

“I know.”

“You know? And based on what?”

When she didn’t answer he shook his head. “You think I treat all my other friends the way I treat you? You think I stay up all night to study with somebody else? You think I prepare them tea? You think that if it was just sex I’d let you stay over every time and let you sleep on my chest? You think I’d make your breakfast? You think I’d let you borrow my clothes?”

“Isn’t this what we… isn’t this what we did even when we were just friends? How can I tear this apart?”

Jaemin sighed, nodding, “I don’t know…” he whispered. The lines of their relationship had always been blurry. All the years their friends told them they acted like a couple. All the years their family told them the same thing. All the times they wondered what they were. They simply never had the courage to say it out loud, but now that all the lines were crossed they couldn’t keep playing that game anymore.

“I feel good with you, and I love you,” Jaemin said. “I love you so much,” he replied, cupping her cheeks in his hand, and her heart skipped a beat at his words. “And if you love me back maybe we could give this a try?”

And she said yes. Of course, she did. She had been waiting for this moment for so long that she felt on cloud nine.

Jaemin, her best friend, the perfect man she always wanted to have at her side, was finally her boyfriend.

The perfect man.

That was what she thought.

That was what Jaemin was when he was her best friend.

And he was like that even for the first year they dated.

He was thoughtful, energetic, and responsible and the list of all the compliments she could give him could go on and on. He was the same Jaemin she used to know, the one she always loved, as a friend, as a lover.

And their story was going so well that they even started to look for a small apartment together when the second year of University ended and moved in before summer was over.

“Stop playing around, Nana,” she warned him, pointing the brush on his face, trying to squirm away from him.

“Come on, it’s just some paint,” he laughed, successfully staining her face with the light blue of their bedroom.

“What did you just do?” She glared at him before coloring his face too, making him laugh. “You want war and I’ll give it to you.”

And that was another afternoon spent playing around, paint ending everywhere but on the walls, leaving them lying on the floor breathless before they decided that it was better to wrap it up and go take a shower.

And the new house led to thousands of shopping dates to pick up the furniture, and everything else they needed. Long days running around ended in cozy nights spent together on their couch eating food while their place started to form around them, walls filling up, smelling and looking like them more and more with each passing day.

The last two years of University passed like that, in their place, with their usual routine, with new memories and joys. Inviting friends over, wasting Saturdays doing nothing but cuddling up in their living room, or taking care of the plants that filled their home.

They slept and woke up, looking at each other, always more sure that they were meant to be each other’s future.

Until something broke.

Jaemin was distant.

It wasn't a clear break, one day the sweetest, most loving person ever and the next one a cold, heartless one. It was slow, like the grains of sanding passing from one side to another of an hourglass. Slipping out of her hands just like sand.

Every time she tried to plan something, he always came up with something he had to do. She didn’t want to call them excuses, but at this point, she couldn’t name them in any other way.

And it wasn’t only that, it looked like he had stopped paying her attention at all, whether she wanted it for dumb reasons or even serious ones.

“We have to call the landlord,” she reminded him from the kitchen, turning around to see that he was once again on the couch, doing nothing on the phone.

“Jaemin,” she called him, leaning against the door frame, glaring at him.

“Yeah? You wanted me?”

“I was talking to you,” she replied.

“I wasn’t listening,” he mumbled, putting the phone away.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she sighed, turning around again.

“What did you want?” He asked, and even if she didn’t turn around she knew he was in the kitchen too.

“Nothing, I can do it myself.”

Jaemin huffed, “so you can be mad at me because I didn’t do it?”

She chuckled. “You never do what I ask you do.”

“Here we go again,” he replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Yes, I’ll say it again because we can’t keep going on like this. We have to call the landlord because he’s raising the rent of this house again. Our place. I don’t know if you get it that you live here, too.”

“I know. I’ll call him. You think that will make him stop? It’s been two years since we live here, and he does it every time.”

“You didn’t even answer your mother about Sunday.”

“Do you really want to go there?”

She sighed, studying his face with a shocked expression. “It’s your mom? And it’s to spend time together.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? On Sunday?”

“I have... a thing to do…”

“A thing? And what is that?” She tilted her head, trying to meet his gaze but Jaemin was avoiding it.

“Need to help Renjun with something. Boring things you don’t care about,” he cut short, and she furrowed, but she had no strength to dig deeper and maybe end up in a fight.

They fought too often lately. They had started to bicker over the smallest things, screaming at each other, drifting away, and crying over spilled milk. And that was fucking her up.

She felt like she couldn’t keep going on like this, but every time she tried to talk with him, Jaemin always slipped from her fingers or she couldn’t find the mental energy to go all the way.

It was just a moment. It surely had to be like that. Maybe it was the stress from work, or those normal crises couples went through.

But to Jaemin it wasn’t a moment.

“I want to break up.”

And then those words arrived. They hit her like a thunder in the middle of a storm. While sitting in front of each other at the table of their house he was finding the bravery to put an end to them.

“I can’t keep lying to myself anymore,” Jaemin confessed, eyes lowering because he couldn’t stand looking into hers. His best friends. The person he learned to walk with. The person he almost shared his birthday with. The person that saw him at his lowest. “I think I mistook the habit of having you by my side for love.”

Her whole world fell apart. She had so many things to say, questions to ask, but not a sound could come out of her mouth.

“I don’t love you. I’m not even sure I ever did. Not like this, at least. Not like you want me to love you.”

Some moments of silence passed after his confession as they stared into each other’s eyes. Jaemin trying to imagine a reaction, hoping it was going to be different from the ones he pictured while preparing for this. Her trying to see a glimpse of a joke, a terrible and cruel one, but a joke.

But she knew him too well and his eyes, his beautiful, once warm, brown eyes there was no sign of a joke. He meant it. Jaemin meant every word.

“You never loved me?” She asked, voice trembling, eyes watery.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You’re telling me I just wasted more than two years of my life by your side and you don’t know?”

“It’s not my fault, I… I thought I did before I met someone else and maybe… maybe this is not love. My heart doesn’t beat the same. I don’t know.”

“So there’s also somebody else!” She screamed. “After all that I gave up for you! You couldn’t realize this a little bit earlier? Before I gave up my job in London for you? Before I put all my savings in this place for us to share? Before I gave up going to New York for the master?”

Jaemin didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at her. He couldn’t stand the look on her face, he was used to wiping it away, to kiss it away, but now he was the one that caused it.

“I… fuck,” she cursed, throwing her head back to push back tears. “I could’ve had so much more and I never did all because of you, because I thought I had love and you’re telling me all these years had been a lie? I ruined my life for you and you can’t even love me. No, you can’t even look at me while you’re telling me this big news.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes meeting her just for a split second.

“Sure, this is going to fix everything,” she chuckled bitterly. “Tell me what she has that I don’t!”

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do this? Seriously? I want to know. I deserve to know because you… you can’t just leave me like this.”

“I’m not leaving like this,” he tried to explain. “I thought about it for so long.”

“Why am I so hard to love?” She cried, but it was more of a thought to herself, getting up to walk back and forth because she felt all the emotions pile up and she needed to let them go somehow.

“You are not hard to love. I love you, just not like that.”

“Just shut the fuck up! I don’t care how you love me, I don’t want you to love me like that. Shut up!” Her whole body was shaking, tears flooding down her face, her head was about to explode, and probably her heart too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying it, stop it!”

Jaemin sighed, he never imagine it would come to this. Honestly, he had no idea how else she could’ve reacted, but there must’ve been a good side to this, right? “I don’t know when it happened, I just realized it now. Isn’t it better like this? It’s over now and we can both move on.”

“Sure,” she replied, holding in a bitter chuckle. “It’s so easy for you. She’s already waiting at home, right? Waiting for you, being everything you always wanted. Something I will never be.”

“She doesn’t know. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“I hope she makes you happy,” she replied, eyes closing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks faster while her hand rested against the wall, trying to calm her breathing down. “I hope her eyes look better than they shine. I hope her lips taste sweeter than mine. I hope she looks prettier when she cries. I hope she won’t be so hard to handle.”

Jaemin walked toward her, trying to hold her in his arms but she glared at him and it was enough to make him take a step back.

“Leave,” she only whispered, taking a deep breath, trying to don’t pay attention to the tears that were making her look more and more pathetic. “You don’t want me, Jaemin. And I can’t change your mind. I can’t force you here. I already ruined enough of your life with this.”

“You didn’t ruin my life, please. You will always be my best friend.”

She couldn’t hold in the loud sob that rolled out of her mouth when he said that and her body crashed against the wall again.

“I hate you so much,” she screamed, shaking and sniffling. “You — you should’ve told me this so long ago. I hate you so much,” she repeated, bending and holding her stomach, wishing she knew a way to make this pain stop. “I would’ve rather lost the sex with you than — than be — ugh,” she sobbed, completely falling on the floor.

Jaemin was frozen, his heart was broken too. He would’ve never wanted to be the reason for her tears, or for her pain, especially for this pain. Seeing her body shake, her face a mess of tears and mascara and her chest panting uncontrollably as she gasped for air.

“I didn’t do this on purpose,” he whispered because he had no idea what to tell her. How to make her believe that if he made up his feelings before he would’ve told her sooner.

“I know,” she replied, not looking at him. “But… leave, please. I can’t — I can’t do this… I can’t be this close to you. I — I… Leave.”

And he did, walking to their bedroom he grabbed some of his things for the night and left. He tried to meet her eyes before closing the door behind him, but she was huddled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and the only thing he could do after turning her in that state, was to leave her some space.

When the sound of the door closing reached her ears, she started crying louder, fingers clenching too hard around her hair and pulling too much, trying to feel some physical pain because the emotional one was unbearable.

That wasn’t fair.

That was nothing of what she had planned for the night, or for the weekend, or for their lives.

And she couldn’t even think why she wasn’t enough, why he didn’t cast her in the show of his life forever. She could only think about all the wasted times and how now she could’ve been anywhere else in the world, with a job that made her ten times happier, with somebody that truly loved her and still with Jaemin at his side, still her childhood best friend, still the little teenage boy that made her laugh, still the college pal that spent nights up with her.

But Jaemin now turned into a nightmare. He was somebody that she didn’t know.

Jaemin was the source of her biggest pain and that was a kind of hurt she didn’t know how to deal with.

She felt sick.

Sick to the stomach.

So, still crying, and sobbing, she crawled on the floor, tired body making its way to the bathroom, feeling like she was carrying around a ton too heavy to handle. And she threw up, everything she could’ve, and finding the strength to lift her hand and flush was hard. Just like it was to get up when her heart and stomach hurt so much and she felt like she could barely breathe.

“I’m so pathetic,” she whispered through sobs while she laid curled up on the floor, thinking it couldn’t be possible to react that way, that a break-up couldn’t be the end of the world, that a betrayal like this couldn’t be the end of the world. And yet it felt exactly like that. And she had no strength to get up or drag her body to the bed, their bed, so she fell asleep there, exhausted, heartbroken, and humiliated.

It wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

But right there, it felt like the end of the universe.

Dealing with what came after hadn’t been easy. Seeing Jaemin’s face again hadn’t been easy. But that still was his place, and his friends couldn’t just make room for him in their houses out of nowhere. So they still had to share their everyday life for a week before Renjun found a way to let him squeeze into his house, a temporary solution to give him time to find a new place.

But dealing with his absence wasn’t easy either. Every day when she came home the house was a little emptier. All the things they bought together. All the things she had seen in his room at his parent’s place, then in his college room, and now here. Gone. Gone just like him.

Jaemin had tried to talk to her several times, but she never answered, unless it was really necessary, and when she did the only words were ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or small phrases.

She was angry. Furious even. So much she feared she was going to go insane. Because the pain was pressing her to the floor and she felt like she was about to explode. But that wasn’t her, that was a part of her that was hurt and devastated. And as much as Jaemin deserved it, she didn’t want to regret any dumb action, so she took a step back. Hoping he was going to leave her alone as soon as possible and then she would’ve healed by herself.

And it took her at least one month to get back on her feet. She didn’t even feel pain, she felt empty, and for some reason, it was worst. She had no emotions to deal with, to feel and then analyze, no root of a pain to reach to break it apart.

She spent her evenings sitting on a corner of the sofa, looking at the wall, feeling like she was going insane. Her friends tried to make her go out, get her mind off of it, but she had no strength. She was falling into a withdrawal.

“What is this?” She asked her mother while she went through the mail, an envelope that was too elegant to be normal mail catching her eyes. She had started to come back to her parent’s house during the weekend to don’t feel so lonely because that place screamed Jaemin from every corner and she couldn’t deal with it. During the week she was too wrecked from work to let him drag her down, but the weekends were the worst.

“What, honey? It must be the usual stuff,” her mother replied not even turning around, too busy crocheting a blanket.

She wanted to leave it there, but something inside her told her to open it.

“Are you kidding me?” She whispered, blinking her eyes twice to make sure she wasn’t going insane. “He’s getting married?” Her eyes were still on that piece of paper with her name written on it. “He’s getting married and he invited me?”

When her eyes fell on her mother her heart broke even more. “You — you knew?” the words were shaking coming out of her mouth and her eyes got wetter.

“Honey, I’m —”

“Don’t call me honey,” she warned her sternly, feeling like that pet name was mocking her even more. “You knew?”

“I’m still friends with his mom, you know what’s between us, of course, I did,” she confessed, placing the wool next down on the armchair and walking toward her daughter but she stepped back. “I wasn’t planning on giving it to you.”

“Why did he invite me? Does he think — does he think we can still be friends after all the pain he caused to me?” Her back met the wall and it was getting harder to breathe.

He was getting married.

Na Jaemin, her best friend for life, her first love, her first real relationship, the one she gave up so much for, was getting married two months after they broke up.

“His mother did the invitations. You know it’s hard for us to see you like this. We just wish you would solve this.”

“Solve this?” She almost screamed, staring at her mother in disbelief. “Solve what? The broken heart he threw to the ground and stepped on? I gave him my life, mom, I did things for him — I… I would’ve died for him and he tells me he never loved me. These past three years had been a lie, he was with me just because I was there, ready to crawl at his side, I was just a habit he was too afraid to lose and he had to tie me to him somehow until I became too much and he kicked me out of his life. How can I go past this? Why do I always have to be the one that lets people run over her?”

“I didn’t mean that, but you two have been through so much. I don’t understand how —”

“Yeah, you don’t understand,” she replied bitterly before grabbing her things and walking out of the house, not listening to her mother begging to make her stay.

She had no idea how she made it home with the tears fogging her eyes and her heart split into million pieces more than it already was. But once she crossed the door she let out the most broken scream of her life, bending in two in front of the door, letting her body fall on the floor, screaming and crying, regretting all her life choices, wondering how the person she trusted the most in the whole world could’ve turned into her biggest enemy.

Jaemin, the one that had her back when she did something wrong. The one that helped her stood up every time she fell. The one that kissed the pain away when she fell off the bike or from the swing. Her soulmate had backstabbed her, over and over again.

“I don’t deserve this,” she shouted, resting her back against the hard door, head rolled back as she tried to let her lungs breathe in more air because she felt like she was dying. “I don’t deserve all this pain.”

But she had nobody to talk to, nobody was there to hug her or calm her down, nobody to whisper in her ears that eventually, one day, everything would’ve been better.

Nobody was there to tell her that one day she would’ve got that love she deserved.

Because the love she deserved was reserved for somebody else.

And she shouldn’t have added more pain to her suffering, but her hands quickly reached for her phone and opened Instagram.

And there they were.

“Forever and always” as the caption of their hands, two beautiful rings on their fingers. And swiping left another picture, their cheeks pressed against each other, smiling widely as the wind blew the hair in front of their faces.

The exact picture she had of them on her lock screen, but now that she thought about it, after months of thinking that was one of their best photos, she realized that Jaemin’s cheek wasn’t so close to hers.

And there were so many posts on Instagram, both of their feeds were full of each other with cheesy captions and emojis. Things he never, ever did for her.

She broke down again, feeling her heart twist in her ribcage.

She had spent months trying to convince herself that Jaemin had fallen out of love in the last months. That it had happened, that it was just bad luck and they weren’t meant to last.

But looking back at it now, thinking about how easily he had moved on and what kind of love he was reserving for her, the sad truth crashed her to the ground.

Jaemin had never fallen in love with her.

They weren’t supposed to meet again, but she couldn’t say ‘no’ when her mother invited her to the usual spring party she threw the first week of April.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you here,” Jaemin mumbled when they crashed against each other. “I was looking for a thing in my… my jacket,” he explained since they were both in the guest room.

She was frozen. She wanted to leave. She should’ve left because she came there mainly to avoid him. She couldn’t stand seeing him and her all over each other, their hands intertwined, his lips always on her cheeks or lips, his fingers gently grazing her hair back.

“Are you okay?” He asked when tears started streaming down her face. It had been months since he had last seen her and he never imagined she was doing this badly, she barely looked like herself anymore.

She didn’t even notice she had started crying, it happened so often lately that she didn’t even pay attention to it anymore.

“Never been better,” she replied sarcastically, but her feet still couldn’t find the strength to move past him and walk out.

“I didn’t know about what my mom did, I would’ve stopped her,” he said.

She chuckled bitterly. “You think that the problem is being invited? You think that the mere fact of you marrying someone else after two months of our break up isn’t heartbreaking enough?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know, I know. We never want to hurt others, and just because it wasn’t on purpose the others shouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed, right? It’s always an honest mistake. Oops, I slipped. Oops, I didn’t do it on purpose. I casually stuck ten knives in your chest but I never thought you would bleed and die on the floor, please, forgive me.” Her tone wasn’t high but bitter, full of a type of anger Jaemin never heard before.

“Let’s not do this right now,” Jaemin said. “There are people.”

“Yeah, you care so much about what they might think. You don’t even care about all the pain you put me through. How much this hurt and how much you, your mother and mine are slapping your happiness at my expense on my face.”

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I shouldn’t have? She’s my mom. This is my parents’ house. Not yours. You should’ve been thoughtful enough to say no when she invited you, to take your fucking distances from my family but no, this is so much better. You love seeing me miserable. You love knowing I’m not getting over you, that for me there will never be getting over you. Probably you get off to my pain.”

“Don’t say things that are not true. I didn’t know you were coming, I wouldn’t have come.”

“I don’t even get how my mom let her in, why she’s so supportive of you as if… as if you’re not the reasons I’m struggling to make it to the next day. Why does nobody care about me? Why is she still all over you? Why can’t she see it? Why can’t she realize you’re not the kind, little boy I used to spend my morning, afternoon and evening with?”

“She’s just happy for me…”

“Right, you’re happy, your family is happy. She’s happy, happier than I’ve ever been. You found your person, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I’m so happy about it. Congratulation for being happy, for finding love, for — fuck,” she cursed. “I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy that she’s getting all the love I deserved to have.”

“Don’t do this.”

“No, I’m truly happy. I’m so happy that she gets the flowers, the boxes of chocolate, the nights out to stargaze, the marriage proposal, the new house, maybe even a dog or a child.”

“Are you mad because I love her?”

“I’m mad because she gets the love I deserved. The love that I gave you.” It was hard to say it out loud and in front of him but she was so mad, so frustrated that everybody there acted as if she was the problem or the overdramatic one.

“She gets the posts made about her, she gets the flowers, she gets a perfect love that you never gave to me. You never loved me. All these years were a fucking lie, Jaemin. You lied to me. I gave you my everything. I was so open to you, I showed you my true colors and what I got back? A fucking play. You were playing a part. I have no idea who I had by my side in the last three years. And I’ve known you before we could even talk.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t… I can’t choose who I love.”

“I don’t care. I got excuses, Jaemin. You got to use this, to use me. You left me in the dust with nothing and then walked away as if it was nothing. As if I was nothing,” she screamed, fist clenching around his shirt before letting go because she couldn’t stand to stay this close to him.

“Was I too hard to handle? Was I too emotionally unstable? What was wrong with me that — that didn’t make you love me? Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you want me?”

“Because you’re not her,” Jaemin snapped, their eyes locking into each other, hearts breaking again. Hers because she never imagined he could hurt her that bad. Again. Over the same wound. Healing and bleeding. Closing and ripping open. And his because he never wanted to hurt her that bad. Jaemin truly didn’t want this to end like this. And he couldn’t stand the emptiness he could see in her eyes as they stared into his and felt like nothing of what they used to feel.

They weren’t home anymore. And this was the cruellest reminder.

Her feet moved back, heels almost dripping on the floor and lips shaking. She gulped, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, nodding as she felt the air dim in her lungs again.

“You’re right,” she whispered, looking through the clothes to grab her jacket before putting it on and storming outside.

Jaemin should’ve let her go but he knew that when she acted like this she was out of herself.

“Where are you going? It’s dangerous to drive like this,” he screamed, running after her, cursing because he didn’t want to make a scene but he still cared about her.

“Why do you act like you care? You don’t give a damn about me. Just — just stop this,” she replied, slamming the front door, walking fast to her car, falling apart when she turned around and he wasn’t there. His fiancée had stopped him, probably asking what was going on and he was lying, coming up with something that wasn’t related to her, because she wasn’t worth a fight between him and the love of his life, and he walked back to the garden, once again forgetting about her.

Driving in those conditions was a terrible idea, but she wanted to go home and the idea of death didn’t sound so sad or scary.

Dying for love was such a dumb thing.

But she couldn’t keep her eyes on the road, her hands couldn’t control the wheel, shaking too hard. And when she lost control, when the car ran off the road and death grazed her, she wondered if it went in another way, if destiny wouldn’t have been so gentle to keep her alive if she would’ve gotten the flowers on her tombstones.

But she wasn’t underground, she was alive, hurt, next to her car, crying her eyes out to a love that was never meant to be.

She couldn’t know what would’ve happened if things went the other way. But of one thing, she was sure.

Someone else was getting the flowers and would’ve always got them.

And that someone, wasn’t her.

I hope you liked it! Please let me know with comments, reblogs or asks!!

#nct fanfiction #jaemin angst #na jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #na jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fanfic #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #requests

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 5 months

Text

We're finally at the final (thank the gods)! Things that we talked about that I haven't seen discussed:

Nathalie trying to kill Gabriel is such bullshit. "You can't do this! You'll hurt someone!" Nathalie, you have known that since day one! You knew he was working on this all season and you're good now! Why are you only trying to kill him now? You were healthy most of the season! You even physically pinned him! Oh, right, because you're not actually good. It's all just "better than thou" lip service. Hypocrisy is the easiest way to make us dislike a character and Nathalie's a massive hypocrite, so we're not fans.

Evil Nathalie was pretty fun. "Good" Nathalie is aggravating and has as lackluster a redemption as they gave Felix or perhaps even more lackluster. Felix at least switched for love of Kagami. Nathalie switched because Gabriel didn't heal her even though she had zero knowledge that he truly had a chance to do so (she wasn't there and Gabriel has never given up an opportunity to save Emilie so that he could chase Ladybug before). Adrien was never Nathalie's motivation or else we would have seen her protest things like Gorizilla, Style Queen, and Chat Blanc.

Moving on!

The mass teleport to Ladybug should have killed everyone because the whole world is supposed to be after her. A couple billion people teleporting to the same location should mean people squish each other or that portals open over each other/on top of people. Just saying. Budget saved her life because Mirauclous' Earth has a teeny tiny population due to rendering costs.

SO was mad how anticlimactic the final fight between Marinette and Gabe feels. Oh two people who barely interacted, have minimal personal connection, and always hated each other are fighting? Such a big moment! I'm so invested! He talked about how other shows build up to moments like this by making the villain terrifying or by making the villain and the hero have a strong, personal connection or even by making the fight super fun to watch, but miraculous did none of that. SO seriously didn't care about the fight at all and, to be honest, neither did I when I first watched it. I only tuned in when Marinette detransformed and I went, wait, wtf are you doing?

We get to all the scenes with heroes in other locations and SO paused the show every few seconds to ask me who tf person X was. Fei resulted in multiple pauses because of her varied forms. So I can confirm that the casual viewer totally followed this part and it was a wonderful addition (that's sarcasm, btw). He did ask "why would the French say that they need a bunch of Americans to win?" Which I though was pretty funny. That's certainly one way to read the Americans showing up!

SO works in IT. He was so mad that the laptop wasn't remotely wiped after it was lost/Lila stole it. And why does it have access to the Agreste mansion and not just the police robots? I thought Tsurugi corp was a tech company? This is all security 101.

SO's final thoughts: well that was soulless. I feel nothing. I can see why you're so done with this show.

Credit where it's due: while the final was massively disappointing from a story perspective and while I don't think Caline Bustier was written like a good teacher for anyone above the age of 5, it is really cool to show a pregnant woman run for office, win, and then be allowed to do her job with her baby in tow without any of that being treated as a joke. That's a really powerful thing for a young child to see and I'm glad it was included even Caline would make a terrible mayor in real life.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #ml finale #suffering through a rewatch of season 5 for love of my SO

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

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I want to live the cliche of cliches with him... I want to wake up next to hubby rdj, some lazy morning sex or just cuddles, make breakfast together, those types of things that couples does together, surrounded by lots of love... that's my request for rdj/fem reader 🖤

''I love you berry much!''

PAIRING | Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.6K

SUMMARY | It is a lovely summer day as you and Robert start the day together with cuddles and being wrapped up in one another, followed by a run to the local market and ending with a dinner with some of his Marvel co-stars.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (marriage), age gap (Reader is in her mid to late 30s, RDJ is in his mid to late 40s), smut (spanking, unprotected sex - wrap it before you tap it!), so much fluff your teeth would almost rot from the sweetness of it all.

A/N | Thank you so much for this sweet request, Nonnie! I let my fantasies run wild on this one, and I am convinced Robert is the most loving husband and a true gentleman. I hope you enjoy the route I took with this one, and if you ever have another request for him, please don't hesitate to let me know! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You're still deep in your very comfortable sleep state when the sound of your alarm starts seeping through your subconscious, waking you up.

It takes a few moments to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, you reach out for your phone, ready to turn your alarm off and turn around into the loving embrace of your husband.

With a soft sigh, you turn around, and just like you suspected, he's waiting with open arms for you to snuggle into, which you both make time for every morning.

''Mornin' Pumpkin,'' Robert says with a sleepy smile as you wiggle your way into his embrace, wanting to be as close as possible.

''Good morning, Bubs,'' you say once you have found your usual comfy position, and you let out one more small sigh as you revel in his body heat, the skin-to-skin contact being something you crave every single morning.

Thank god for sleeping naked.

''How did my girl sleep?'' he asks, and your cheeks feel warm as he calls you his girl. Even after almost 15 years of being together, you would never get used to him calling you that, and Robert is well aware.

''Like a log, thanks to you wearing me out last night. Everyone who thinks older guys don't last as long as younger people is very mistaken in their thoughts,'' you joke, and you lay your head on his chest, Robert's hands finding their way onto your waist and in your hair.

''Well, I can't help it when I have such a beautiful wife. Want to give her everything, and the least I can do is give her a few orgasms,'' he says, amusement sounding through his voice.

''Six, Robert. I swear it is not normal for a woman to cum like that six times,'' you say, but you would be lying if you didn't enjoy every second of him taking you apart last night.

Your hands are scratching slowly through his scruff, and you make a content noise when his hands move down your back, but you didn't expect him to land two hard slaps on your ass.

The shriek you let out is almost inhumane, and you go to sit up to get a good look at his smug face.

''It's a good thing I love you and that I enjoy getting spanked,'' you grumble, and he laughs while he kneads your ass with firm motions.

Robert squeezes harder than anticipated, and you grind over his hard member with your soaking cunt, earning himself a moan from your plump, pink mouth.

''Hmm, care to go for another round?'' you ask through half-lidded eyes, and the wide grin on his face tells you all you need to know.

You lift yourself slightly up, and he grabs hold of his hard cock, lining it up with your entrance, and you slide down in a smooth motion. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch, even after last night.

''Oh god, you're still so tight for me, Pumpkin,'' he breathes out as you slide down until he's fully buried inside you.

''Hmm, feels so good to sit this fucking dick of yours,'' you say, and your filthy mouth always makes Robert go crazy.

You set the pace by slowly moving up and down, squeezing slightly to feel every single movement and twitch of him, moaning at the feeling as he hits your sweet spot each time.

''Hm, I love riding you like this,'' you say as you lean forward; his hands find their way back to your ass, and he picks up your pace a little bit, but not enough to make too big of a difference.

You capture his lips with yours, and when his mouth slightly opens, you take the opportunity to slide in your tongue, sliding against his at a leisurely pace while keeping the same speed.

Your hands find their place in Robert's hair and tug softly, earning soft grunts and groans from him as you both enjoy every little sound and movement from one another.

''Hm, I want you to fucking ruin me,'' you whimper as you sit back up again, your hands lying on his chest. You whine softly as Robert moves his grip to a tight one on your hips, and he does as you ask.

''F-fuck, yes! R-r-right there!'' you moan, and your hand finds its way to your swollen clit, your orgasm nearly there. With a few more thrusts and loud moans, you cum, shortly followed by Robert as he shoots his cum deep inside your cunt.

Your body goes lax, and you fall forward into the embrace of your husband, who whispers sweet nothings as he keeps riding out both your orgasms.

When Robert's completely soft again, he grabs a warm and damp washcloth to get you cleaned up before turning on the shower and picking you up to have a lovely shower together.

It was a sweet, lovely shower with lots of small kisses, extra cuddles, and lots of soft touches as he washed your body and hair, ensuring no inch of your skin was left untouched.

''You're such a good girl for me,'' he whispers in your ear as he turns off the shower, and a wide grin appears on your face at the praise from your husband.

''I love you, Bubs,'' you sigh as you turn around, capturing his lips again before drying off and getting dressed for the day.

''Love you too, Pumpkin,'' Robert says, placing one more kiss on your cheek before you walk out of the bathroom, ready to start the day.

It is a lovely summer day, and you opted to wear a red and white polka dot maxi dress today, combined with white sandals. Your hair is hanging loose around your shoulders, and you've decided against wearing make-up today.

Robert was already dressed and ready before you, so he got a head start on breakfast this morning, making pancakes and cutting up some fruit that needed to be used before it would go bad.

''Looking gorgeous today, Pumpkin,'' he says as you walk over to him, taking a strawberry out of the carton and taking a bite while you look at the pile of pancakes he has created.

''Breakfast looks almost as good as you,'' you tell him, earning yourself a chuckle from him. After one more kiss on his cheek and another stolen strawberry, you grab plates and cutlery to set the table for both of you.

''Shall we eat outside?'' you ask, and Robert hums in response, so you walk to the garden and put it on the table. You unfold the big beach umbrella so you can eat in the shade.

When everything is ready, you grab the orange juice out of the fridge alongside two glasses, put it outside, and sit down, ready for Robert to bring out the pancakes and fruit.

Before he sits down, he grabs a strawberry and feeds it to you, ready to make an unbelievably stupid pun.

''I love you berry much!'' he says, and you almost spit out the fruit as he says it because it makes you laugh so hard you can barely keep your mouth shut.

''My god, you are unbelievable!'' you say with a huge smile. ''But I love you berry much as well,'' you wink as he sits down, ready to indulge in the delicious-looking breakfast he prepared for both of you.

During breakfast, you two are going through all the ingredients you need to make dinner for tonight since some of his old Marvel co-stars are coming over for dinner.

Ultimately, you make creamy shrimp pasta with garlic bread and a salad on the side because that's always a winner when guests visit.

After breakfast, you load the dishwasher, and then you're ready to go, grabbing your sunglasses and purse before following Robert to the car.

The drive is short, but the two of you always love strolling over the market, and when possible, you try to go every week to ensure you have the freshest and most delicious produce and other ingredients.

When you arrive, Robert parks the car, and by now, you know better than to get out of the car yourself, so you wait for Robert to open your door and guide you out like a true gentleman, giving you a small kiss when the door is closed.

''C'mon,'' he says as he laces his fingers with yours, and the two of you make your way through the entire market, ending up with every ingredient you need for tonight and more.

At the last stall, you're taking a peek at all the flowers, enjoying all the bright colors that make it look like an ocean of color.

''You see some flowers you like?'' Robert asks, and you can't help but smile, already feeling he would get you some if you stopped to look.

''Those sunflowers look beautiful. Could we get a big bouquet of them?'' you ask the man at the stall, and he sells you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers that will be beautiful on the dinner table tonight.

''Thank you, Bubs,'' you say after he pays for them, and you're heading back to the car. ''They look stunning, and I'm sure they will look divine on the dinner table,'' you tell him with a big smile.

When you're home, you and Robert put away the groceries together, and when that is done, he grabs you into a tight hug because he has to make some calls for an upcoming project of his.

''Hmm, wish I could stay like this forever,'' he whispers against your neck, and his breath makes you feel goosebumps all over your body, and you inhale his scent deeply.

You always love how he smells, a mix of his cologne and him; it is an unmistakable scent that makes your knees weak every time you smell it, so you can't help yourself by taking an extra sniff.

''I'm gonna go before you snort me up entirely,'' Robert jokes and pulls apart, leaning in for a slow, sensual kiss that leaves your head spinning on its axes when he pulls away.

You steady yourself against the counter, and when he walks away, you can't stop the grin forming on your face.

Since Robert is working, you are starting dinner and dessert for tonight, grabbing your apron first and then putting your hair up with the help of a claw clip.

The first thing you start with is the sauce since it has to be cooked for a while in your slow cooker, and after, it's time for your homemade pasta dough.

When that is resting in the fridge, you take the opportunity to start on your tiramisu, the dessert for tonight, and not long after that's done, too.

Around 6 PM, everything is ready to go for dinner, and you need to add the last touches, which is good since everyone should arrive around 6:30 PM.

''It smells divine in here!'' Robert says as he walks in, greeting you with a soft kiss as you're giving the finishing touches to the sauce, ready to be served soon.

''Thank you, Bubs. Could you set the table? I'm almost done here, so I'll help you after,'' you say, but he looks at you disapprovingly.

''Pumpkin, you've done enough. When dinner is served, you can sit that perfect butt of yours down on your chair and let me handle the rest,'' he says, and you nod in response.

''That would be nice, thank you,'' you say, and that's when the doorbell rings, notifying you that the first evening guests have arrived.

''I'll get it, Bubs,'' you say as Robert finishes setting the table, and you walk over to open the door. You're greeted by Chris Evans, Sebastian, Anthony, Jeremy, and their significant others.

''Wow, it smells amazing in here, as always,'' Chris says as he greets you with a kiss on your cheek and a hug, followed by the rest of them as well.

''Thank you! We're eating Italian style tonight, so I hope you all brought a big appetite; I have enough to feed an elephant!'' you joke, and you lead them to the dining room where Robert just got done setting the table.

He greets everyone and lets them sit down, pouring them all something to drink as you finish dinner.

When it's done, Robert helps you put everything on the table, and just when you're about to pull out your chair to sit down, Robert is there first, doing it for you.

''Thank you,'' you whisper as you give him a soft kiss before sitting down and enjoying dinner with everyone. The pasta, garlic bread, and salad are gone before you know it, and everyone is ready for dessert.

''You can stay seated, Pumpkin. I will get the dessert,'' he says, and you gladly do. When Robert is in the kitchen, Anthony nudges you and tells you you're fortunate to be married to Robert.

''Honestly, I try to be the best gentleman I can be, but he is on a different level,'' he says, and you agree. You got lucky to have found Robert in this lifetime.

Not long after, Robert returns to the dining table with your tiramisu. It looks like a slice taken right out of heaven and tastes that way, too.

After dinner, everyone moves outside to finish their conversations and to enjoy one more glass of wine or other beverage. Still, to Robert's dismay, you stay inside to clean the kitchen and load the dishwasher again.

''Pumpkin, please sit down. You've done enough already, and they're here for you too,'' he says.

''I'm almost done, Bubs. I need to load the last few things, and then I'm all yours again,'' you say, and he agrees but waits for you to finish.

When you're done, he grabs your hand and leads you outside, sitting on a lounge chair and pulling you into his lap to hold you close by, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Before you know it, everyone is going home again, and after many thank yous and goodbyes, you sigh softly because evenings like this take up a lot of energy, and Robert knows that.

''C'mon,'' he says as he picks you up bridal style and walks you up the stairs and to the bedroom, ready to sleep together.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed, and he can tell how much toll this day has taken on you by the sleepiness on your face.

''Let's get you out of these clothes and into bed, Pumpkin,'' he says. You let him take off your sandals, dress, and bra before pulling one of his shirts over your head before you lie down, not worrying about brushing your teeth now.

Robert follows suit and walks over to his side of the bed, and you feel it dip behind you before he slides over and pulls you against his chest.

''Thank you for everything today, Pumpkin. I couldn't have done it any better without you by my side, and I'm grateful for everything. I love you so much,'' he whispers between soft kisses on your neck as it lulls you slowly into a deep sleep.

''Loveyoumore,'' is the last thing you mumble before the sleepiness pulls you under and into a warm dreamland. Everything feels perfect in your husband's arms, and you sleep so deep you even snore softly.

Robert smiles softly as he hears them, and not long after, he falls asleep, too, with you pulled close to him as the two of you fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

#robert downey jr #robert downey jr request #robert downey jr one shot #robert downey jr fanfiction #robert downey jr fanfic #robert downey jr x female reader #robert downey jr x reader #robert downey jr fluff #robert downey jr smut #rdj #rdj request #rdj one shot #rdj fanfiction #rdj fanfic #rdj x female reader #rdj x reader #rdj fluff #rdj smut

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lucy90712 · 1 year

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Pedri makes reader feel bad after implying all she wants is his money

wc: 1700+

For most of the afternoon I have been cleaning the house and getting things set up as my boyfriend Pedri is having his teammates over for the evening and I don't want the place to look a mess. Pedri and I have been together for coming up to 4 years which is crazy to think about as it feels like just yesterday that I made the at the time crazy decision to move to Barcelona with Pedri so that we could stay together. From that day our relationship has only gotten stronger to the point that I can't even imagine what my life would have been like if I chose not to move here. I truly love Pedri so much he has been with me through everything and we have both supported each other through everything life has thrown our way.

Its not often that Pedri invites so many of his teammates around but I encouraged him to do it as the team has been doing so well and working so hard that I thought it would be nice for them to get together and have some fun. After suggesting it I told Pedri that I would make other plans for the evening to get out of the way so that they could have a proper boys evening but he insisted that I stay. That is the reason I've been preparing things for most of the afternoon because although I know none of them would really care I wanted to have snacks and drinks ready as thats what I would do with my friends.

Just as I finished with the last of the snacks the front door opened and Pedri came in with Gavi as he can't drive so Pedri offered to just drive him straight here. Gavi greeted me with a simple hello and a smile and Pedri came over to give me a kiss which made Gavi make gagging noises which made Pedri flip him off. The 3 of us all sat down and started talking until others started to arrive a bit later. Pedri had invited pretty much the entire team which meant there was a lot of people suddenly in our living room so people were sitting on the floor and everyone else was squished onto the sofa. To make things more comfortable Pedri allowed me to sit on his lap which we do all the time but never in front of anyone else so I felt a bit awkward to start with until Pedri grabbed my hand and rubbed it with his thumb to calm me down.

Once everyone had arrived and settled in we were having so much fun everyone was talking and laughing which made me really happy as I love to see the team getting along so well. I didn't really say much but I was happy to just sit and listen to everyone because I'm not the most outgoing person so just being present in the conversation was fine by me. Everyone seemed to be liking the snacks I'd made too which made me happy as I spent quite a while on them and tried to make things that were healthy but also tasted good.

"These are so good" Gavi said eating one of the things I made

"Yeah everything is really nice thanks y/n" Ferran added

"These must have taken you ages" Gavi said

"I bet you spent a lot of my money on them too" Pedri said

Everyone kind of gave him a look once he said that but I tried to brush it off as just a joke and continue the conversation to not make things awkward. Luckily his comment seemed to have been forgotten at least until he started making more comments about money and implying that I'm only with him for his money which is so far from the truth. It hurt to hear him say those things because I didn't know he thought about me like that or believed that I didn't actually love him. The more things he said the more it was starting to bother me so to avoid crying in front of everyone and ruining the evening I excused myself and went to the bedroom to just be on my own.

When I was finally alone I could no longer stop the tears from falling and once they started they wouldn't stop. It's so hard to believe that Pedri would ever think that I'm only with him for his money I mean we have been together since before he was so successful and I took a big risk to come to Barcelona with him all because I loved him. Pedri does of course make more money than me but I still work hard I'm in my last year of university and have a job which takes up most of my time outside of studying. All the money I earn goes towards either paying for bills or things I need for university but I never take Pedri's money unless he specifically allows me to. Sometimes when we need food he will give me his card to use but I always make sure to find the best deals and then give it back to him right after I get back.

Pedri is often spoiling me with gifts but I always tell him not to because I don't need any of those things not that I don't appreciate them but I don't need him to spend his money on me to be happy. When he does get me something I will always try to take up extra shifts and get something for him but of course it isn't worth as much because I simply can't afford it but I always try. For birthdays and other holidays I try and get him gifts that have a meaning and show how I feel about him and I can't believe he would just forget about all of that and act like I don't care about him at all.

Pedri's POV

"Dude whats up with you tonight?" Gavi asked

"What do you mean nothings wrong" I said

"The things you're saying about y/n are you guys in a fight or something" he questioned further

"No we are fine" I replied

"Well I don't think everything's fine you can't just pretty much say that she is us using you for money and say everything is fine" Ferran pointed out

"I'm just joking I don't actually think that" I said

"You might want to tell y/n that I can't imagine it feels good to hear you say those things" Gavi said

Oh no what have I done. I was just joking around as people always seem to think that y/n is with me for the money even though I know she isn't so I wanted to make a joke out of it. Thinking about it again it probably wasn't the best joke to make as I know she sees what people say and tries her best to show me that she isn't with me for the money. The more I thought about it the worse I felt as I know she works really hard and has never once taken advantage of the fact that I earn quite a lot in fact it's always my decision to spend money to get her nice things like she deserves.

When y/n left the room I didn't think much of it but now that she's been gone for a while I can't help but feel like I've really upset her. As much as I want to go and find her and apologise for everything I said I can't because there is other people here and she probably wants some time away from me. While sat with everyone else I wasn't at all engaged with the conversation as all I was thinking about was y/n and how I must have made her feel.

Your POV

From my spot on the bed I heard the front door shut and then silence which I knew meant everyone had left. Despite that I still didn't move as I didn't want to see Pedri just yet because I've only just stopped crying and I know I look a mess. When the bedroom door opened and Pedri walked in I quickly hid my face so that he wouldn't see my red eyes and may just completely ignore me but of course he didn't. He came and sat down next to me and put an arm around my waist to pull me into his side. I still didn't move but he stayed next to me and tried to get me to move the pillow that was in front of my face. Eventually he succeeded and I looked at him for a second before going to look away again but he stopped me by putting his hands on my cheeks which made me look at him. We looked at each other for moment before his mouth opened and he clearly started to think about what to say.

"I'm really sorry for what I said earlier" he apologised

"Do you really believe that I'm like that?" I asked

"Of course not I don't know why I said it I was just joking because I know people say those things about you but I wasn't thinking about how it might come across" he explained

"I promise I'd never use you for your money I really do love you as soon as I finish uni and get a better job I'll contribute more to everything I just can't afford to right now" I started to ramble even though Pedri already told me he was joking

"Its ok I know that you love me and I don't need you to contribute anymore you do enough for me in other ways I promise you that it was a joke and I'll never say anything like that ever again" he said

"Thank you" I said

Only when we finished talking did he take his hands off my face as instead he put one behind my neck to pull me into a kiss and the other went around my waist to move me closer to him. When we both pulled away from the kiss I moved to lay on top of him and he gently ran his hands through my hair and stroked my skin all while telling me how much he loved me which was nice to hear.

#pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagines #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagines

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