#Will inevitably draw him again later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 11 months

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Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.

I’m here now.

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl.

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say,

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.

“Right. Okay.”

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.

“We will.”

#light on #peaches asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #peaches writes

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dreamesamu · 2 months

Text

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario

warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading

author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.

truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.

here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library.

“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.

“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.

“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.

“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.

“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.

"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.

your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.

"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.

"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."

"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.

"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.

you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.

"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.

you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.

but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.

"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.

"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.

you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.

and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.

"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.

"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.

you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.

the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.

on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.

"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"

excuse me?

"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.

but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.

maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...

---

"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.

"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.

"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.

"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.

your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.

then he fumbles. something is missing...

oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.

"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"

you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.

"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"

lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.

"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"

there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.

so his question remained unanswered.

akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.

he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.

and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.

you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.

but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.

"please. can we talk?" he pleads.

---

you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.

"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."

your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?

akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.

"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.

you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.

"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."

"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."

he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.

"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."

---

"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."

akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.

"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.

"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"

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thef1diary · 4 months

Text

Baby Jr | Four

— Meticulous Avoidance

Series Masterlist

pairing: carlos x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

The sun slants through the blinds, casting elongated shadows across the room. You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly as you stare at the tenth pregnancy test you've taken, still in disbelief.

"No," you murmur as two pink lines stare back at you, confirming what you've been fearing for the past couple days.

You're pregnant.

Carlos's face flashes through your mind, his smile, his touch, the intensity of those nights spent together. It was supposed to be casual, fun, a temporary escape from the reality of the world around you.

While trying to escape reality, you've been hit in the face by it.

You and Carlos were reckless, that was a given, but now you also had to face the consequences of those moments shared.

You attempt to push back the wave of panic threatening to engulf you. Your vision blurs as your eyes fill with tears and your hands tremble, still holding on to the test.

How could this happen? How could you let it happen? What are people going to say? What is he going to say?

Your mind races, trying to grasp onto some semblance of control amidst the chaos of your thoughts. But deep down, you know there's no escaping the truth.

You're carrying Carlos Sainz's child, and everything is about to change.

Rising from the bed, your movements are mechanical, as if you're navigating through a foggy haze.

The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in on you with each passing second. You need air, space, a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts. With trembling steps, you make your way to the window, dropping the pregnancy test on the floor. You push the window open to let in a rush of cool morning air but even the fresh breeze fails to dispel the suffocating sense of unease that grips you.

Outside, the world carries on, oblivious to the turmoil raging within you. Birds chirp in the distance, cars hum along the street below, and somewhere in the distance, the low murmur of voices drifts through the air.

But in this moment, none of it matters. All you can focus on is the life growing inside you, a tiny, fragile being whose existence is now irrevocably intertwined with yours.

You lean against the windowsill, your gaze fixed on the horizon, lost in a maze of swirling thoughts and emotions. Despite how much you try, you cannot stop thinking about the new situation you've found yourself in.

How will you face Carlos? How will you tell him the news? And more importantly, what will his reaction be? The questions echo in your mind, unanswered and unsettling.

But for now, there's only one thing you can do: keep it to yourself. You remind yourself that the next race is two weeks later, offering a temporary reprieve, a brief respite from the inevitable confrontation that looms on the horizon.

As you draw in a steadying breath, you steel yourself for the challenges that lie ahead. Tears still continue to flow from your eyes, but as you peer down at your stomach, you can't help but feel a tinge of hope in between the fear of your future.

—

As the days pass, the weight of your secret presses down on you like a lead blanket. Every time you meet someone whether it's a stranger or a close friend, you feel the guilt internally shaming you just for keeping the secret to yourself.

You try to bury yourself in work, throwing yourself into your duties as a media personnel with a newfound fervor. You weren't needed at the track since there weren't any races, but you did need to step up the team's media presence and engage with the fans during the brief break.

Although you weren't required to see Carlos in person, your work required you to view the images and videos in which he participated in along with his teammate. You wanted to bury your face in your hands as you watched the videos again because you could hear his laugh and voice.

From considering Carlos as a distraction, now you needed a distraction from him and unfortunately your job did not allow that.

It didn't help that he would still text you, because after all you were still friends before it became physical. He sent you photos of the sunset from whichever country he decided to fly to because you once told him that you loved sunsets.

He was unaware of the turmoil of stress you experienced every time a notification popped up on your phone with his name. Your first thought was that he found out, even though no one else knew the secret but you.

You couldn't ignore his messages or else he would know that something was up, and that was the last thing you wanted him to know especially during the break.

No matter how hard you try to distract yourself, thoughts of Carlos and the impending conversation linger at the edges of your mind, a constant, nagging presence.

Finally, the week of the next race arrives, and with it, the inevitable reunion with Carlos. You stand in the bustling paddock, surrounded by the frenetic energy of the Formula One world. The air is thick with the smell of rubber and gasoline, the sound of engines roaring in the distance while the fans cheered every time they spotted a driver.

As you continue walking through the paddock, you notice a crowd of reporters and fans circling a couple drivers. You couldn't see their faces until you craned your neck, and as soon as you did, you wish you hadn't.

You caught a sight of Carlos in the distance standing alongside Lando which in itself causes an uproar as their friendship is infamous. However, in that moment, you couldn't care less about Lando, instead your eyes were drawn towards Carlos, as always.

He looks every inch the confident, charismatic driver you've come to know, his easy smile and charm putting those around him in a trance.

For a moment, you consider approaching him, but then you wonder what you'd say. It's not like you could tell him the truth in front of the crowd and there was no other topic you could think of.

Instinctively, your palm rests over your womb, and once you realize your actions, you quickly avert your gaze from him, turning away before he can spot you.

You slip into the shadows, dodging behind equipment crates and team trailers as you make your way through the paddock. Every instinct screams at you to run, to hide, to avoid the inevitable confrontation that awaits. And so you do, weaving through the crowds with a practiced ease, your heart pounding in your chest.

But no matter how hard you try to escape, you can't shake the feeling that Carlos is watching you, his eyes boring into your back with an intensity that sends a chill down your spine. You quicken your pace, ducking around a corner and into the relative safety of the media center, where you hope to find refuge from the storm brewing outside.

The noise from outside disperses away which you were thankful for but it only magnified your own thoughts. Fortunately, you spotted Ava but as you walked towards her, you noticed that she was speaking to Charles.

You gave her a nod in acknowledgement when she spotted you and turned to sit at one of the further tables, taking a moment to sigh. She notices the tension in your demeanor, the way your eyes dart nervously around the room, and she can't help but raise her eyebrows in concern.

You offer a tight-lipped smile, attempting to brush off her concern, but Ava isn't one to be easily dissuaded.

She pats Charles' arm and smiles at him before wrapping up the conversation she was having with him. You watched from afar, noticing the easy camaraderie between them, a hint of something more lingering in the air. Perhaps you were just seeing things and overthinking it because you were involved with Carlos.

You discarded that thought as you saw Ava approached you, her gaze filled with genuine concern.

"Hey, everything alright?" she asked, her palm resting on top of your hand.

You nod, "yeah, just a bit stressed with work." You hoped that she wouldn't press further on the matter since she also knew about those stressful days at work, having worked in the same field as you.

But, she furrowed her eyebrows, "is it just work, or is something else bothering you?"

Her gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity. The weight of your secret pressed heavily on your chest, each breath feeling more constricted than the last. You toyed with the idea of confiding in her, of sharing the truth that had been gnawing at you for weeks. But the fear of her reaction, of the potential consequences, held you back.

Ava reached out and squeezed your hand, her touch a silent gesture of support. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and understanding.

You nodded, your throat tight with unspoken words. How could you burden her with such a heavy secret? What if she reacted poorly, or worse, felt betrayed by your silence?

But as you looked into Ava's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and compassion reflected there, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she would offer the support and guidance you so desperately needed.

The silence stretched between you, each moment filled with the weight of unspoken truths. Finally, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's not easy, but I trust you, Ava. And I need you to know."

You had to tell her the whole story, start from the beginning from the night Carlos stopped by your hotel. You reassured your thoughts with a nod, racking your mind for the best way to explain it all.

As you gathered the courage to confide in Ava, Carlos' voice cut through the air, interrupting your moment of vulnerability by calling your name. You turn to see him approaching you, stopping once he reaches the table.

"Hey, can I borrow you for a moment?" he asked, eyes flickering between you and Ava.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Ava who gave you a reassuring smile. "I'll catch up with you later, yeah?"

You nod at her before looking at Carlos and standing up. He motioned for you to follow him, down the halls and away from prying eyes. As you walked with him, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions — frustration at the interruption, anxiety over why Carlos wanted to see you, and a lingering sense of guilt for keeping secrets from both him and Ava.

When you reached the secluded corner, Carlos turned to face you, his gaze ever so watchful. He had a smirk playing on his lips and for a brief moment it reminded you of the time you spent together before finding out life changing news.

You rolled your eyes once you saw how quickly his expression changed, now only a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. Yet, you still asked, "why did you need to 'borrow' me?"

Carlos leaned closer, resting his palm against the wall like he's done before, his smirk widening into a playful grin. "Well, I just wanted to see you," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his unexpected admission. "Just to see me?" you repeated, a hint of skepticism in your tone.

He shrugged and stated, "it's been two weeks since I saw you last."

A rush of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words — relief that he didn't suspect anything, guilt from earlier, and a flicker of something else, something you couldn't put a finger to.

His fingers trailed down the length of your arm, settling on your waist. With his proximity, a sudden wave of nausea washed over you. The scent of his cologne, once familiar and comforting, now felt overwhelming, almost suffocating.

"Carlos, what cologne are you wearing?" you blurted out, unable to mask the discomfort in your voice.

Carlos pulled back slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. "It's the same one I always use," he replied, his tone tinged with confusion. "The one you always liked."

You blinked, trying to push past the nausea and focus on his words. "But it smells...different," you managed to say, your stomach churning with unease.

Carlos' expression softened, his concern deepening as he stepped back but still reached out to steady you. "Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising tide of nausea threatening to overwhelm you. "I think I just need some fresh air," you murmur, your voice shaky.

Without waiting for a response, you hurried away from Carlos, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air of the hallway like a heavy cloud. You found it odd, as it was never this overpowered to the point where you could smell it from afar, instead it was fairly faint, only smelling it when you were snuggled up next to him in bed.

As you step outside into the cool breeze, you take a moment to collect yourself, the nausea gradually subsiding with each intake of breath.

The fresh air also gave you a sense of clarity, able to think about the situation without it becoming too much to bear.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave — you almost went right back into his arms as if the pregnancy never existed. You would've willingly gone back to your old ways, spending time with him simply because he smiled at you and wanted to see you.

The temptation to bury the truth was strong, to pretend as if nothing changed between you two. But it was wrong, you can't possibly deceive him like that. He would find out one way or another, especially as the months go by and your pregnancy can no longer be hidden.

You softly press your hand against your stomach, a sad smile growing on your face. You wouldn't have to tell him if you didn't plan on keeping the child, but having to live normally again, as if nothing happened, would eat you alive.

Plus, you didn't even think about that option thoroughly, already feeling a blossoming connection to the little life growing in your womb.

You shake your head, discarding such vile thoughts. With a heavy heart, you made a decision to avoid Carlos until you built up the courage to tell him the truth. It wouldn't be easy to tell him right away, because this news could shatter the state of your relationship with him, whether it's friendship or more.

As you returned inside the paddock, you spotted Ava who was rushing around, holding a large stack of items you couldn't see from afar. Watching her hurried movements, you found yourself lost in deep thought again, this time, strategizing how to share the news with her, how to confide in her. The weight of the secret you carried felt unbearable now that you were back at work, and the thought of continuing to hide it from Ava was driving you to the brink of madness.

You consciously straighten your posture, a silent reminder to yourself that you were in a professional setting. The familiar sights and sounds of the workplace surrounded you, pulling you back to reality. Here, amidst the hustle and bustle of the paddock, there was no room for distractions from your personal life. Each moment was precious, each task demanding your full attention and focus. So, with a determined resolve, you pushed aside the turmoil of your personal struggles, channeling your energy into the demands of your professional responsibilities.

As the day wore on, you found yourself avoiding any encounters with Carlos as decided, darting down different corridors and finding excuses to linger in secluded corners whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the distance. It wasn't necessarily hard to avoid him, which made you realize that your job didn't entail being around him as much as he made it out to be. However, it did send a pang of hurt through you every time you heard his laughter or his name uttered by other people.

With each passing hour, you grew more resolved in your decision to keep your distance until you found courage to tell him the truth, after telling Ava.

Speaking of, your phone pinged with a text from her. 'I'm coming over after work, be ready to tell me everything'

Fortunately, the first race after the break was in your home city, which meant that you could show Ava the pregnancy tests you've taken.

The warmth of her friendship offered a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos of the day, and even the past couple weeks, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at the prospect of confiding in her about everything that had been weighing down on you.

Taglist OPEN: @xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @the-ghost-lovwr @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport @darleneslane @mderby03 @jinimon-tr @landoslutmeout

#babyjr fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz angst #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 smut #thef1diary fic #fanfic

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drac-kool-aid · 1 year

Text

Y'know, something that gets me, is that in the book, Dracula's intentional predation of Lucy starts off with an accidental meeting. Sure, Lucy slept walked, and an argument could be made her path might have been supernaturally influenced, but I say she'd already been a known sleep-walker, and she went directly to a place she was familiar with.

Her stumbling onto Dracula's hiding spot in a very vulnerable state was just an accident, and from there, he intentionally set out to harm her, and through that, everyone around her he could get.

This is sort of related to Jonathan, too. Had Mr. Hawkins not come down with a bad case of gout, Jonathan wouldn't have been sent to Castle Dracula in his stead. Sure, Dracula probably would have had his fun with Hawkins before inevitably killing him, but I doubt he would have drawn it out so long or taken so much delight.

Dracula never sets out with a master-plan to attack Lucy or Jonathan. They just end up in his path and spark his interest. We know that if he isn't interested in you, he'll kill you. He'll, he breaks Mr. Swales neck doesn't even bite him. But the two victims he decides he's going to make suffer the longest he possibly can, he just stumbles upon and goes "oh this will be fun". Later, we see him start choosing victims as a way to retaliate, but for the two inciting incident victims upon which the rest of the story hangs...its just wrong place wrong time.

The reason this struck me is that I was misremembering. For some reason, which I now believe due to thinking about the *through gritted teeth* Coppola film, is that Lucy is sort of hand-picked by Dracula to be his victim. And yeah, the fucking film ain't subtle in its blaming of Lucy's victimization on the fact that she was Too Pretty and Too Flirtatious and Dracula psychically drew her into the garden in a flowing diaphanous dress, but it's really her fault....I hate this movie.

Like, i just read the films Wikipedia plot synopsis, Dracula "psychically seduces" Lucy before biting her. He chooses her out of everyone in England deliberately.

And just...no. That's not what happens. Lucy got so stressed from her wedding that her latent sleep walking started again. Mina gets so tired from the constant stress she falls asleep without meaning to. Lucy went to their favorite spot...Dracula just happened to be there and took advantage and both Lucy and Mina weren't floating along softly into a garden with a fan letting their hair blow, but cold, scared, and covered in mud and blood, and forced to sneak back to the house that way, facing not only the supernatural but the very ordinary horrors of being caught outside at night by a strange man.

Idk. The tragedy is that Dracula didn't set out to fuck with these people. It's just that they were the ones who crossed his path that he took an interest in, and he decided to draw it out as long as possible.

(Oh fuck, this is the crew of the Demeter too. It isn't like Draculas got some big plan. He just decides he's going to play with his food. Had he boarded any other ship it would have ended up the same way.)

I guess in conclusion, I find it odd that adaptions seem to need to find a reason for him doing what he does. Like, Coppola has to conjure up a whole reincarnation backstory at one point, but I don't understand why!! Let Dracula just be an opportunist, his casual cruelty knowing no reason. That makes him scarier.

#dracula daily #lucy westenra #jonathan harker #re: dracula #dracula #back from impromptu hiatus #adhd kicked in and started feeling guilty for not being caught up #which only made it worse lol

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sincerelyyycece · 6 months

Text

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James? Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.

#james potter #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter x you #james potter x y/n

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colonelarr0w · 5 months

Note

Can I request a fic where someone else confesses to reader infront of Megumi? How would he react thank you!

Sypnosis - A student from Kyoto is a little too bold ... but who is Megumi to say anything without accidentally revealing that he likes you?

Warning(s) - None.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

God … he hated Valentine's Day.

But not for the cynical reasons that everyone else seemed to despise Valentine's Day for – no, his loathing for the holiday stemmed mostly from his frustration with himself.

His frustration over not being able to say something … anything … to you. Every time that he thought about it, about confessing to you or saying anything to you about his feelings, it felt like someone had lodged something in his throat. It felt like someone had stolen his ability to speak, locking it away in a tiny metal cage and swallowing the key for its lock.

And it wasn't like Yuuji or Nobara made the situation any better. If anything, they only added fuel to the flame – constantly teasing the poor boy any time that you were in his vicinity. Megumi would have to bite back his growing scowl whenever you approached; knowing that Yuuji and Nobara would smirk at one another and embarrass him in one way or another.

Thank God that you never really noticed … unless you did. Maybe you were just being nice in order to not add to an already bad enough situation (you genuinely had no idea what was going on, Megumi would later find out).

"C'mon Fushiguro, get her something nice and tell her!" Yuuji had told him first thing that morning, leaning against the open doorframe of his dormitory and smiling widely. Megumi bit back his urge to roll his eyes.

"Here, I'll give you everything. All you need to do is speak, yeah?" Nobara had said when he and Yuuji joined her in the school's courtyard. Again, Megumi had bitten back the urge to roll his eyes towards his skull.

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell you, it was just that he had absolutely no idea of how he would be able to stomach your rejection when it inevitably hit him.

"Fushiguro! There you are!"

His head turns at the sound of your voice, the scowl on his face fading almost immediately upon seeing you make your way over to him. You lift your hand in a friendly wave, one that he doesn't hesitate to return.

Yuuji and Nobara exchange knowing looks as you wave to them as well, eyebrows momentarily furrowing together at the snicker that Yuuji hides behind his hand. Even Nobara's smile seems forced, but once again, you don't draw any attention to it.

"Hey (Y/N)," Megumi says with a polite bow of his head, feeling his chest swell at the smile that you flash in his direction. "Gojo didn't send you on a mission today?"

"Nope! I think he was more heartbroken at the fact that Nanami didn't get him any flowers for Valentine's Day," you reply with a dismissive wave of your hand. Yuuji laughs heartily at that, but his laughter is quieted immediately by Nobara smacking her palm against his mouth.

Your eyes flicker to watch as Nobara smiles at you, her eyes closing as she slowly begins to drag the pink-haired boy back into the school.

That leaves you and Megumi alone.

"Oh, I wanted to ask you--"

"(Y/N)!"

You lift your head at someone calling out your name, smiling as a visiting second-year from the Kyoto school walks over, his hands closed around a comically large bouquet of vibrant red roses. He smiles at you once he's standing in front of you, not noticing the confused look on your face … or the deepened scowl that had settled over Megumi's features.

"Oh … hello," you say, mustering the politest smile that you could without looking as though you wanted to shove the Kyoto student away. He returns your smile, then shifting the bouquet of flowers forward, silently urging you to take them.

Megumi can feel his heart sink to the depths of his stomach as you take the roses, holding them against your chest to ensure that none of them would fall. You nod your head at the Kyoto student, already feeling an uncomfortable sensation beginning to bubble in your stomach.

"Here, this is for you as well!" Suddenly, a white envelope with a bright red heart scrawled into it is shoved into your free hand. The Kyoto student only smiles wider, watching you through glistening eyes as you chuckle – a chuckle that Megumi immediately pegs as you being uncomfortable.

"Thank you, you're too kind," you reply, still chuckling even as you shift to stow the unopened letter into the pocket of your uniform. The Kyoto student opens his mouth to speak, but his words die on the tip of his tongue at the glare that Megumi shoots in his direction.

"N-no problem," the Kyoto student mumbles out, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as his gaze flickers between an uncomfortable you and an irate Megumi – whose glare looks as though it could light blazing fires.

And without uttering another word to you, the Kyoto student scurries away.

You turn to Megumi, finally noticing the frown that had settled on his face. "Fushiguro? Everything okay?"

He shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality as he turns his head to catch your awaiting gaze. His eyes dart between you and the flowers that you hold, though he doesn't dare to say anything regarding the roses that are borderline falling from your arms.

"Fine," he answers coldly, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. You furrow your eyebrows for a moment, then a knowing smile curls the corners of your mouth upward.

"You know, I was hoping to get flowers from someone else today," you say with a little shrug of your shoulders, already bending to place down the bouquet of roses. Megumi's eyebrow perks, eyes following you as you fold your hands behind your back and cheekily smile at him.

Megumi's frown only seems to deepen at your words, the letter he had written for you suddenly feeling as heavy as stones where it sat in his jacket pocket.

"Yeah? Who?" Megumi dares to ask, feeling his anger double at the sight of your smile widening.

You giggle, already reaching into your pocket for something – removing a small black box with the letter 'M' engraved into its thick fabric. He stills, staring down at it, puzzled.

Hesitantly, Megumi reaches out, taking the box from you and opening it. Inside is a silver ring, and turning it over reveals a little message engraved into the silver.

Megumi <3

His cheeks immediately flush a bright shade of red, the tips of his ears burning as his gaze returns to you. Your lips are turned upward in a smile, this one soft and gentle – the one that crinkles the corners of your eyes and makes your smile lines stand out.

"Do you like it?" Megumi flushes again at the sound of your breathy chuckle. It was cute to you, how he was admiring the ring while simultaneously trying to catch your gaze.

His fingers snap the box shut, arms lifting to wrap themselves around you. You let out a shocked yelp as you're tugged against Megumi's chest, his face hiding itself into your hair as he squeezes at you with a strength you had no idea he possessed.

You chuckle after a moment, finally lifting your arms to return his embrace. He relaxes upon feeling you around him, closing his eyes and simply savoring the feeling of you.

"I like you too, by the way," you whisper into his ear, smiling as he pulls back just enough to glance at you. His face reddens impossibly further, but he finds himself smiling nonetheless.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't that bad after all.

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fanfiction #megumi fushiguro fanfiction #fushiguro megumi fanfiction

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

Text

haha wow guys…. can’t believe you’re making me write a part two of this…… haha ok if you insist….

the sting of soap’s disappointment following the most recent assassination attempt is shortly resolved when only a week later, as he reads in the candlelight, he feels the cool press of a blade gentle against his throat.

he’s smiling before he can stop himself. there could only be one person silent enough to manage such a trick.

“back so soon?” he asks the shadow. he closes his book, careful to keep still. the blade wasn’t meant to hurt unless he moved.

a low hum. “thought i might catch you off guard the second time.”

“sorry to disappoint.” soap feels the pressure disappear, and slumps back in his seat. he lolls his head back to peer up at the assassin, who looms over him, staring with that same dark, piercing gaze.

“don’t worry,” the assassin consoles. “you could never disappoint, your majesty.”

soap laughs. “isn’t it too early to be making assumptions like that? we’ve hardly met.”

a gloved hand, still partially curves around the hilt of a blade, draws a line across soap’s jaw. a gentle caress, met by the bitter kiss of cold steel as his assassin shifts his hold.

“that’s all i need,” the assassin teases. “you’re an easy read.”

soap scoffs, letting his head fall back forward. the assassin makes his steps audible as he backs away.

“well, at least give me a name before you disappear again,” he pleads. “so i know whose title might leave my lips when you inevitably succeed.”

a pensive silence, consideration that soap should not be allowing such a man.

“ghost,” he finally offers.

“ghost,” soap echoes, almost wistfully. he isn’t surprised, when he turns in his chair and sees that ghost is gone yet again.

soap sighs, though his disappointment this time is brief. a second visit is no coincidence—something tells him ghost would most certainly return.

and the prince already finds himself anticipating that very moment.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

Note

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

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stxrslut · 1 month

Text

these past days have driven you crazy. the thought of the games being only tomorrow makes it impossible to sleep. you need something, some sort of thrill, something erotic even, to make you forget. you know exactly who to go to for that.

content : hunger games au. reader has lots of complicated feelings. intense sex. knife play. blood. degradation. rafe talks about killing reader. minimal aftercare.

when he opens the door he’s wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. you wouldn’t expect anything more, it’s 11pm at night and you hadn’t let him know you were coming.

“what happened?” he frowns, letting you in. you walk right up to him, getting in his space, though he doesn’t seem to mind too much.

“remember what you said about distractions…” you ask, looking up at him and placing a hand on his bare chest, “and remember… remember how you offered to show me.. that you could help me be distracted?”

he looks down at you, lips parted in genuine surprise, “yeah. yeah I remember.. you uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “you want that?”

you nod, “yeah…” you speak quietly, slowing standing up on your toes to reach near his lips, “I want that.”

he leans down to meet you, beginning a heated kiss that leads you over to his bed. he pulls on the straps of your nightdress to remove it, letting you fall back once it’s off.

“shit… gonna make you all mine..”

two rounds later, you’re not satisfied. all you’ve been doing is whining for more, something even more.

you want something thrilling, something scary and erotic all at the same time. you’re not getting it, and it’s most definitely not distracting you.

“no— need somethin’ else.. need more,” you whine, pushing rafe away and rolling over grumpily. you know it’s rude. to turn up in his room asking for sex only to not accept what he can give you.

you hear him get off the bed, you’re expecting him to kick you out any second now. you hear a rummaging through some drawers and then he’s walking back towards you.

you’re about to sit up to leave when you feel the sudden cold of a blade on your skin. you shiver, looking down to see a sharp, inevitably murderous knife pressed to your collarbone.

“you wanna fuckin’ whine?” his tone is mean now. he flips you over so that he’s standing over you, blade now on your neck.

you moan involuntarily, this is what you’d wanted. this is the thrill you’d been seeking. the games are all that is on your mind, but now in a good way, a sick and twisted way, but good nonetheless.

he chuckles, “shit.” a smirk is plastered on his face now as he looms the weapon over you, “this is what you wanted? this is the more you’ve been cryin’ for?”

you nod frantically, arching your back with a loud moan, “yes— yes this is what I wanted— want— want—”

“what? want me to stab you? want me to kill you?” he breathes out as he begins to lign himself up you you once again, “or you just want me to fuck you like I’m gonna?”

“mmh— please— please,” you moan, letting out a little shocked yet still pleasured whimper when the knife nicks the skin on your upper chest, undoubtedly drawing blood.

he begins to move, fucking your already sensitive hole with a new force, a new venom. driven by, you’re sure, exactly the same feelings you’re having.

“you’re sick,” he seethes, not slowing his turning or relaxing his grip on the knife as he speaks, “this shit turns you on? fuckin’ sick.” he chuckles breathily when all you do in response is moan once more, “don’t even care do you? just another fuckin’ desperate slut. thought you were innocent y’know… thought I was gonna have to show you how to do this.”

“mmh— m’gonna.. rafe… I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as an orgasm crashes down onto you. a white hot pleasure in your core as you writhe around.

the knife remains held to your neck as rafe spills a hot load into you. his hand shakes, pushing it closer, and inciting even more fear into you.

not even five minutes later he’s dressed again, standing over you. he runs the tip of the blade over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you gotta go now.” he murmurs, voice deep and almost intimidating, “don’t want to make it harder to kill you tomorrow.. I still got a game to win.”

walking down the hallway with your legs shaking, you think. you think that might be the most horrible thing you’ve ever done, and also the most erotic. you also think, that it was exactly what you needed.

#hungergames!au #thg!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #cw knife play #thg!reader #rafe cameron dialogues #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader

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talesofesther · 11 months

Text

what once was mine | ch 2

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: I was kinda putting off writing this chapter because I was forced to write a scene I don't like to relive lol. But anyway, it's here, and I hope you like it. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

When you lost Loki, you didn't have time to grieve. The whole universe was being threatened, there was no time for tears.

It all had happened so fast. One minute Loki stood between you and Thanos, his hand holding yours and keeping you away from harm; and the next, Thor was dragging you away from the body of the person you loved the most, while you screamed until your throat burned.

And then you lost, again; half of the universe turned to dust. It was only one year later that a strange man came knocking at the compound's door with a solution, a hope. But not for you. After all, Loki wasn't one of the blipped ones, though a part of you wished he had been.

In the end, you won the war, and you brought everyone back; but you lost a piece of yourself.

You felt numb, hollow. Now, looking down at your hands, under the cold running water of the bathroom sink, you could see red even when it wasn't there. It stuck on your skin and under your fingernails. For the tenth time this week, you felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat and you couldn't breathe.

The sight was burned into the back of your mind, returning each night to haunt your nightmares. His bloodshot eyes, bright yet so lifeless; his hand still outstretched on the grounds of New Asgard when he'd last reached for you; dried tear tracks on his cheeks when he realized the inevitable; the crimson red blood dripping from his nose and mouth. That was the last image you had of your Loki, as you screamed—you couldn't even recall what exactly you had been screaming—and thrashed against Thor's strong hold on your body, dragging you away so you wouldn't meet the same fate.

You splashed water onto your face, making it hide your tears even though you could still taste the salt in between your sobs.

It's been over a year, and the pain has yet to subside. You've been living on autopilot since the last battle, helping rebuild and only eating enough to keep you going, barely speaking to anyone. There was a hole in your chest that you couldn't fill, a part of your heart that stopped beating the same day that his did. The year following The Snap had gone by in a blur, with everyone working incessantly trying to find a way to undo what happened, and part of you had a hope that you'd be able to bring Loki back as well; but when the solution was found, and he didn't come back, that last bit of hope was snuffed out like a candle, leaving you in the darkness.

People would look at you funny when you walked the hallways of the Avengers compound, you didn't know if it was because of the evident scar running from your forehead to the beginning of your left eyebrow, or because of the dark circles under your eyes.

You finally reached the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a sigh going past your lips. Steadily, you poured yourself some black coffee. Was it your second, or third mug of the day? You weren't sure.

"You drink a few more of those, it'll soon be running through your veins."

Thor's voice made you close your eyes, your back still turned to him. Despite loving the guy, you really didn't feel like talking right now. You brought the mug to your lips and took a generous sip before facing him.

"Here's hoping." You tried smiling, but it came more like a grimace.

A strong hand found your shoulder and squeezed. "Tony says he's worried about you... everyone is," Thor said quietly, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes with his own.

You bit onto your lower lip, nearly drawing blood. When you looked up at Thor, you could see a reflection of your own pain in his kind eyes. "I just wish I could see him again. Just one last time." You shrugged weakly, watching as your vision turned blurry yet again.

In the same beat, Thor pulled you to him. His chin came to rest on top of your head as he hugged you tightly. "Yeah, me too," he whispered. "Me too."

It was on this same night that you woke up yet again covered in cold sweat and with a scream lingering on your tongue. Each beating of your heart against your ribs was a punch. The last image you had of him burned behind your eyes.

You got up and walked to your bedroom door, hands shaking when you turned the knob and when you filled a glass with water.

When you lost Loki, there was no time for a goodbye, there was no time for you to lay a last kiss on his forehead and promise to find him again in another lifetime. He was taken from you—abruptly, and without remorse—leaving behind a gash on your heart; an open wound that still bled.

Maybe that's why, on this same night, you made your way to Tony's lab, grabbed one of the few remaining pym particles, and pulled yourself through time.

Just one last time. You had to see him just one last time. You had to say goodbye, and make a promise.

The TVA found you before you found Loki. You never got back to your timeline.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @arunabrak @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

Bad Idea, Right?

Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1,317

A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.

P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.

You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you.

But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.

“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”

You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.

Liar.

Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.

But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.

The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve.

And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.

But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex.

You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.

But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again.

And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.

You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.

“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”

You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.

Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”

Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.

But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation.

He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly.

But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”

You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.

He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.

He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral.

He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips.

“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.”

His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.

He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.

“Dean, please, just give it to me.”

“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little.

“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.

“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”

He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.

You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.

“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.”

As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own.

He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.

“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”

All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

#dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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yerion · 1 year

Text

(love) you.

jungkook is shameless, especially when it comes to his lips. although you only want your lipstick to stain his lips, you find someone else’s; it’s a shame, because your shade would look prettier on him.

pairing : player!jungkook x art student!f-reader. au(s) : nevertheless!au. genres : mainly fluff, slight angst.

content : jungkook doesn’t date, but he still loves.

word count : 3,4k.

“did you do anything yesterday?” you ask as you observe jungkook get ready. at his usual delay, your gaze rolls flat onto the ground in disappointment, escaping the sight of jungkook fixing his hair in your mirror.

the couple of calls you made to him last night after gruelling moments of hesitation were all missed. you know he isn’t obliged to answer you, but for someone who’s been sleeping over at yours for countless nights, you anticipated a little more—just a little more attention.

“what was that?” jungkook then asks back absentmindedly.

“oh,” your gaze bounces up, knowing he’ll stare back once you reply. “were you busy yesterday?”

a lopsided smile flourishing on his lips, he turns his head to meet your expectant gaze. “i was at another gathering,” he answers. “you might know them, actually.”

“really?” a forced grin inevitably latches onto your features at his obliviousness. he talks as if he’ll invite you the next time he’s out, but the truth is that he won’t—more so if you know the people he’s planning to spend time with.

the moment jungkook fixes the last of his stray hairs, he retreats from his own reflection to position himself next to you on the side of your bed. “were you waiting for me?” he whispers teasingly into your reddened ear.

“no,” you interject in embarrassment. “i was just—”

a knowing chuckle spills past his lips. “sorry,” he murmurs sweetly. “my phone was on silent.” you watch his doe eyes evaluate; in his mind, he’s calculating what would throw you out of these phases of disappointment.

so he knew you called.

you shake your head profusely in dismissal. “don’t worry about it.”

at your reassurance, jungkook’s attention diminishes from the conversation. instead, he moves a hand close to your face, a finger delicately gliding across the lower lip before pressing down on it, causing your lips to separate and subtly spread apart.

“hey,” your voice squeezes out muffled.

“can i find you after class today?”

again, you’re found nodding at his suggestion. jungkook smiles at that, pleased with your compliance. he proves it to you by swiftly leaning forward, stopping mid-way just to catch you breathless before drawing close enough to capture your lips for a taste.

jungkook backs away with the sound of a subdued smooch, and you immediately sling yourself back and gasp dramatically in utter surprise. your eyes widen at jungkook who’s now grinning triumphantly.

at times where you should be fighting for extremities, he never fails to render you silent. he works harmoniously with the prickly sensation that only emerges into prominence when he’s around.

“i’ll see you later.” he whispers softly.

your head is peeking out and peering out to the distance while on your tiptoes expectantly. a sigh eventually tumbles out of your lips when another minute of nothing passes.

what are you waiting for?

you drop your head back, allowing the tide of disappointment to consume you as whole again. class ended an hour ago, and for jungkook, his class should’ve ended at a similar time to yours.

you peer up, exhaling freely at the galaxy looming over you. it’s the brightest company there is, yet here you are, waiting for someone who only offers fractured promises.

you don’t even know why you’ve devoted yourself to such shallow loving—he’s barely given you any signs of reciprocation, and deep inside, you know that—you’ve set yourself for detonation.

you begin to walk, breaking free from these hollow expectations embedded into your head. you leave any thought knotted with the remnants of jungkook in the air.

upon passing familiar buildings nearby, you coincidentally find someone who looks exactly like jungkook standing on top of a flight of stairs, melded majestically in flickering light. even with his back turned, the resemblance is uncanny.

stealing a glance through your narrowed lenses, you struggle to see the rest of his façade after observing for minutes. the anonymous barely moved since. he isn’t alone, because you can see another pair of legs through the gap of his own. your perspective from the lower ground is helpful in that sense.

then slight movement—you watch the mysterious guy randomly lean forward, naturally revealing more of the other person with him at this hour.

it’s a girl—a girl in your practical class.

now the mystery unveils; a fervent sensation pinches parts of your heart when you notice that the guy is in fact jungkook.

without giving you a second to breathe, he inches closer to plant a chaste kiss onto her lips. you’re unconsciously counting the seconds of their intimacy like a psychopath even with the aggravating heated jabs in your chest.

“jungkook?” she questioned, insolence apparent in her voice. “he doesn’t date.”

“he’s hot, but what’s the point when all he does is fuck around?”

you were warned.

you were seriously warned.

it’s you who chose this twisted fate for yourself.

with the lamp on, you lay still in bed, gazing at the dimmed ceiling. the stuffy feeling in your chest simmered, but now you’re dealing with a bundle of sickening anxiety that claimed its spot in the depths of your stomach.

the sigh you release aligns perfectly with the noise of your doorbell chiming. mainly startled, you spring up, creasing the sheets beneath as you stumble towards the monitor connected to the camera on your door.

as if god is entertained by the thought of suffering from your self-inflicted consequences, your breath hitches and your tongue tangles at jungkook’s spontaneous advent.

oh god.

through the fuzzy quality of the monitor, you feast your eyes on the rare moments of him waiting for you; for you to open up and embrace the danger he emanates like the scent of his fresh cologne.

that ultimately provokes you to push open the door. your frustration towards your own self is immeasurable, but there’s no cure for lovesickness. deadpanning, you raise your head, feeling a draft of wind caress your face before finding jungkook’s indifferent eyes.

“you’re ridiculous.” in all sorts of ways, jeon jungkook.

however all he does is let his eyes roam, allowing him to explore the elusive details of your body. averting his gaze from your eyes, he then stares at your lips, the curves of your neck before overtly pausing at your bare collarbones.

your jaw drops ajar the moment you decipher the true meaning behind his stare; you’re in nothing but your pyjamas—a tank top and shorts.

“have you eaten?”

brows collapsing into a tenuous frown, you shake your head adamantly. “no,” you shut down. “i wasn’t hungry.”

“still,” jungkook sighs out loud as he places his palm against your forehead, checking your temperature for his sake. “i don’t want to think about you getting sick again—”

you immediately grab ahold of his wrist, tearing his hand away from you. “come in,” you mutter. “i want to talk to you.”

jungkook steps in, automatically stopping in front of your closed door instead of entering further. “i’m listening,” he says knowingly. “tell me anything.”

you inhale, voluntarily stopping yourself from breathing at his sweet offer. “why do you make me wait?” you confess. “am i that easy?”

jungkook raises an aggressive brow, offended by your accusation. “it’s not that.”

“i saw you on the way home.” you cut in determinedly. “i didn’t mean to, but i saw you with someone else.”

“why does that matter?”

of course.

this is the type of person jungkook is.

“is it the kiss you’re worried about?” jungkook takes a step forward deliberately, naturally causing you to trip backward until your shoulders are harshly pressed against the wall, trapped under his piercing gaze.

shooting a pained glare at him, you scoff inwardly. “so you do know.”

jungkook looks away as he sighs frustratedly. “it wasn’t anything special.”

“that makes you even worse.”

“if it didn’t mean anything to me, you should be caring less about it.”

jerk.

you scoff in a series as you brush your hair back angrily. “that’s clearly not the point here.”

“then what is?”

he’s right.

what is the point of arguing when you’re the reason behind this heartbreak?

you knew this.

you had this coming.

“forget it.” you exasperate bitterly, “what can i say as someone who isn’t important to you either?”

“that’s not it.”

“then who am i to you?”

“someone different to me.” he answers vaguely. “you’re the only person i enjoy being with.”

his words take you aback, inducing heat to reside in your body again in unease; it melts down your next words lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“how about you?” jungkook asks deeply. “how do you feel about me?”

“i don’t know how to feel about—”

“should we let it go then?” his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in tender strokes. “one word from you, and i’ll stop.”

you’re anxious; you’re frightened in case this might be the last.

jungkook is a paradox you can’t seem to grasp. behind your back is a world that carries his name; your mind searches for him in a cloud of cigarette smoke and a garden full of butterflies.

you’re afraid that’ll torment you; it’d kill you to think there was once a possibility to make that all into bliss.

because after all this time, no one’s ever been as magnetising as him.

fuck it.

tilting your head upward ever so slightly, you lean into plant a gentle kiss on his lips. you resign from the kiss quicker than usual; avoiding eye contact and turning your head to the side.

“are you sure?” jungkook questions.

“i’m not.”

oblivious to the silence, your gaze flickers, unsure of what to do next to relieve the tension. your blood surges, heightening the warmth in your cheek, making it known to jungkook’s fingertips.

wordlessly, his hand falls, instead it finds your jaw; he holds the end of your chin, steadily turning your head back to him.

your heart begins to race at a speed you’ve never felt; hard thumps thrash against your ribcage. there’s butterflies pedantically fluttering in your stomach, probably alarmed by the brute force of your heart.

“are you busy tomorrow?”

you simply shake your head.

“spend it with me then.”

“don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“i’ll just miss it.” jungkook draws in, shortening the space between your bodies before pulling in for a kiss harsher than yours. your eyes shut at his eager lips, arms instinctively finding its way to hook around his neck.

this is… fine—right?

before your shoulders can ram any harder against the wall, he fluidly slips his arms under your thighs, carrying you high against his chest. not only does it grant you the room to fully loop your arms around his neck, but it brings you dangerously near, offering you the option of fuelling the fiery kiss.

when he perches you on top of your own kitchen counter without giving your lips a rest, you fall back into his arms, curious to see the expression he has on for you.

jungkook tilts his head in wonder. “is this my first time seeing you with your hair tied up?” he smiles slyly, stiffening his grip around your waist.

“oh—” your hand frantically rummages for the hair tie buried in your hair. once you grab it, you slide it off in a panic, knowing it wasn’t your best job. you accidentally left it in and tossed around in your bed. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“what was that for?” he cracks into an airy chuckle. “now i can’t say you look gorgeous.”

you purse your lips teasingly. “can’t you still?”

“but with your hair down—” he purposely tips into the curve of your neck to breathe against your ear, sending you continual waves of electricity. “—you’re something else.”

you smack his shoulder with a tough blow. “give me a break,” rolling your eyes sarcastically, you huff out a small pout. “i had enough of your vague words today.”

“yeah?” jungkook hums, “i’ll leave it to your imagination then.”

“very funny.”

“should we eat something?” jungkook coaxes in a whisper.

you side-eye the clock. “it’s so late, but…” you trail off. “this is the best time to eat.”

“that’s what i like to hear.”

“you did what?”

“please, don’t be so loud!” a girl hushes her friend beside her.

the ruckus lured your gaze to lift. it’s how you envisioned—just two girls procrastinating on their due work and relaying updates of each other’s lives on the weekend. you simply nod alone in understanding, gradually letting your attention pan back to your painting.

“come on!” a burst of laughter escapes the friend’s entire body. “jungkook came over to yours on saturday?”

inevitably, your whole existence comes to a complete stop at the sound of his name slipping out of someone else’s mouth. your finger buffers, causing your brush stroke to deviate elsewhere, abandoning a permanent red stain on a place you wanted uncoloured.

“shut up.” she stresses behind clenched teeth. “people are going to hear.”

you’ve seen and heard about him kissing people heartlessly, but a story about him staying over at another girl’s house is not only just breaking news, but something you weren’t mentally ready for.

“who cares!” she cackles hysterically. “it’s not like anyone here had the same amount of romance as you with him.”

“romance?” the girl groans knowingly. “as if he does any of that.” she sighs in sheer disappointment; a sound you thought you could only make regarding him. “i fucking wish.”

“we need to talk more about what the two of you did after class.”

the girl dunks her paintbrush back into a can of dirtied water. “where should we go?” she giggles enthusiastically. “my house?”

“ew,” her friend screeches. “without knowing what the fuck you two did in there?”

“shut up!”

lost in a world that now feels uncomfortably fuzzy, you suddenly jolt at a random vibration in your pocket. your phone alarms you of what feels like a new text. with a half absent mind, you take the phone out of your jeans for a dire distraction.

[jeon jungkook] 14:22.‘you’re finishing soon.’

[jeon jungkook] 14:23. ‘i’m coming to see you. let’s get lunch together?’

14:23. ‘sure.’

unlike him, he matched the time perfectly to invite you for lunch. it’s only minutes before your two-hour long recreational class ends, and all you’re taking to the future is an unerasable and disastrous story caused by a single mention of his name.

you’re pathetic.

of course, it’s from here onward, time loses its power against you. it always has, especially if it’s anything related to jungkook. though you’ve thoughtlessly accepted to be the extra company he can unconditionally ask for, you decide to remain seated in an emptying classroom, stupidly waiting for him to notice your wretched choice to rebel against him for the very first time.

this is who you’ve become—a person craving nothing but short-lived attention from someone who gives you bruises like presents.

“found you.”

there he is.

“not hungry again?”

your eyes stay grounded and your lips remain sealed in thinking. eventually, you feel a breath caress your ear, sending a frigid shiver down your spine. it wakes you up, triggering your gaze to shoot towards the beautiful yet menacing cause—jungkook.

flustered, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you totally lost your equilibrium. “i was distracted,” you mutter. “what did you say?”

“i’m complaining because you didn’t let me court you today.” jungkook replies smoothly. “did you change your mind?”

court you?

“a little.” you answer vaguely, still uncomfortable to face the truth.

“i’m a little hurt.” jungkook jests softly. “i missed you.” he casually drags out a spare seat beside you to sit on. “how about you?”

missed you?

you look fixedly at his attractive uneven grin. “more than you did.”

“really?” his eyebrows raise in contentment. “are you sure you’re not more interested in the masterpiece you’re working on than a date with me?”

a date?

with your head lowered, you sigh deeply. “let’s drop this.” you propose abruptly. “let’s drop it before i start to annoy you with my feelings.”

“is that the reason?”

“it’s the reason and the problem.” you turn back to jungkook, facing him through your seat aligned with his. “so let’s not see each other like this after today.”

he seems taken aback, speechless—almost.

“the reason and the problem is that i started to care about who you meet and kiss.” you confess. “and that shouldn’t happen between you and i.”

you knew all this time.

“because that’s a break of your rules.” your sick rules of seeing people without strings attached.

jungkook avoids your gaze by looking to the side. though not visible and barely audible, you can pick up the muted sound of his breath that’s longer than usual. you watch his eyebrow piercing twitch in contemplation as your chest starts to carry weight again. it feels heavy inside; it’s no longer a foreign feeling to you, but something so familiar.

pushing yourself out of the stool, you set off a loud screech before standing on your feet upon securing enough room. “i won’t apologise for it.” you exhale strongly, “i won’t join you today.”

“don’t forget your painting.”

“you take it if you meant what you said before.”

when you try to take a step further away from him, jungkook grabs ahold of your swaying wrist to stop you halfway. “do you mean it?”

“are you talking about the artwork?” you scoff lightly before clearing your throat awkwardly regardless. “i have to restart.”

“i meant your feelings.”

“what about it?”

“are you actually taking me seriously?”

offended, you aggressively flick your wrist away from his grip. “you’ve never been a joke to me like i was to you.”

“you’re judging me way too quickly here.”

“then can i give you time to explain?”

at the end of your sentence, he’s silent to make his hand known to you again. his fingers clamp your wrist gently, grasping it in a way that brings you to feel baffled at the unfamiliarity. he’s completely defenseless with you, to the point it’s forcing you to think you could be the person to break him if you wanted.

your breath trembles in confusion as you blink profusely at jungkook’s sealed lips. your arm solidifies under his grip.

“are you alright with someone like me?” he asks softly while caressing your wrist with the pad of his thumb.

you watch jungkook’s eyes deepen in curiosity. “i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t.”

“really?” jungkook cracks into an enigmatic chuckle, masking his insecurities. “i want to believe you so badly.” he mutters under his breath.

“jungkook,” you pronounce.

the lingering movement in jungkook’s fingers halt at the sound of his own name gently rolling off your tongue.

“how do you feel?” you spin the bottle back to him verbally. “did you stop me because you’re afraid you might be losing one of your many girls, or did you stop me because you mean it?”

“i feel like i’d miss you.”

“to that someone you’re planning to miss, you’ve been flirting whilst kissing different girls in front of her eyes.” you mutter back. “can you get back to her when you feel apologetic about that? because she likes you so much now, she can’t handle the sight of you being your usual self anymore.”

“can i let her know that this is my first time feeling like this?”

“feeling like what?” you ask hesitantly.

“i feel like you’re going to be my last thought every night if you go like this.” he answers. “and i don’t know for how long.”

“i like you, jeon jungkook.”

“i—”

you whisper, “and i think you like me too.”

“yeah.”

turning towards his wrist, you take a step forward to close into his face. jungkook peers up to you from his seat in astonishment, however you simply reach out to press your fingertip against his bottom lip, wiping a darkened lipstick stain away in the opposite direction as an evident frown paints your softened features.

jungkook stares at your dirtied digit. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you now reply softly in slight embarrassment. you talked with a bigger mouth than usual, which is a colour jungkook has never seen until today.

“is it?”

you shift your head to the side. “my shade would look prettier on you.”

“prove it.”

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lilhwahwa · 8 months

Text

ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (Yungi. ver)

★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.

★|•°∵ Idolbf!yungi x nonidol!reader

{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}

MASTERLIST

Yunho

Yunho made sure to spend well deserved time together this holiday season by inviting you over to the dorms. Most members had gone home to visit their families and he had the big apartment to himself. He prepared a cozy atmosphere by cleaning, preparing food and activities (you both just ended up eating junk food on the couch and watching a movie). After Yunho noticed you getting sleepy, he suggested going to bed and you agreed. Although you wished to stay up just a little later your body was drained from working and his bed was inviting you in with its fluffy blanket. Yunho asked if it would be okay for him to join Yeosang for a game and since you thought you'd fall asleep anyway, you agreed. Besides, watching him play was always entertaining.

After the initial twenty minutes you expected it would take you to fall asleep, you open your eyes with a sigh and began scanning small details on the ceiling of Yunho's room. The keyboard buttons moved quickly as Yunho's long fingers skilfully worked his character around. You sigh again and twist onto your side in frustration, hoping to find the exhaustion you felt just a while ago. Your mind couldn't formulate thoughts and begged you for sleep but your body just didn't comply.

Yunho had headphones on so you assumed he wouldn't hear you huffing and turning. You hug the blanket closer to your body and try to focus on a scenario playing in your head only to not get anywhere. Once a scenario made it to your head, it was replaced by the fact that you can't sleep and it'd go in loops, sabotaging itself.

You gasp from surprise when you feel a hand slide over your side and wrap around your torso. You look up to see Yunho hovering above you.

"Baby, am I being too loud?" He asked with a small pout, looking for an answer as he scans the frustation in your tired eyes. His fingers draw small circles on your tummy and you suddenly feel relaxed. Is his touch all it takes?

"No, I just thought I could sleep but I- it's just not coming to me" you sigh just as a yawn leaves you.

"Then..." he thinks before swiftly leaving your side without another word. You plop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he shuts his computer off and you immediately want to protest. You didn't want him to interrupt his gaming session.

"I know what you will say, I want to sleep now" Yunho cuts you thoughts short before you can protest. He slides into bed behind you and immediately stretches his long arms out to pull you closer into his body. You turn to face him and bury your nose in his shirt.

"You could've kept playing" you grumbled

"But I'd rather lay with you" he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Especially since you can't even seem to sleep without me" he adds teasingly knowing you'd roll your eyes if they were open. He finds your noises of protest adorable and shifts deeper into his pillow to get comfortable.

"Good night baby"

Mingi

You got it, really. It wasn't your first rodeo.

Mingi was a hard worker, perfectionist in anything he did and being in a group only seemed to push that side of him out more. He wanted to make sure everything was prepared on time and to high standard, which was one of the things you admired about him.

You also admired it when all of his attention was on you. How he'd look at you with shining eyes as if you carried the universe on your shoulders. How his plump lips would shyly but surely pepper kisses over you face. Or how his voice would soothe you as he praised you every other sentence. Which unfortunately, was not on your agenda today.

It was kind of inevitable and you truly understand that he was tired. Him agreeing to watch a movie together even efter finishing tour rehearsals was a generous gesture. Even though exhausted, he invited you to the dorms (after convincing the other grumpy and tired members) to spend at least some time together. You were grateful for the initiative, but couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed when not even twenty minutes into the movie, snores escaped his slightly parted, plump lips. His arms that had been holding onto you, were now limp over your body.

Although the warmth of his body behind you on the living room couch was comforting, it was not enough to save the fact that the couch was hard and small. You weren't completely covered with a blanket and the weather had not shown mercy lately. Mingi's limp body also didn't allow you to turn at all so now you were stuck against him, back to chest as he snores. You shiver at the cool air in the room and try to focus on the movie still playing. Maybe the boring contents would make you fall asleep quicker.

You knew that him dozing off so easily like this truly meant he was exhausted and waking him up felt almost blasphemous. You felt shame in bothering a person so tired and so willing to still be with you.

"Can't sleep`?" you snap away from your thoughts as you barely catch the raspy voice mumbling in your ear. "You keep moving" Mingi yawns and lifts his limbs off you to allow your body to finally turn to face him. With an apologetic look on your face you turn, barely able to keep in a sound of endearment as you watch your sleepy boyfriend fighting to open his eyes to check on you.

"Sorry, baby" you whisper and reach out to stroke his flushed cheek, hoping he'd just go back to sleep because you'd feel horrible if he didn't. Mingi reached behind him to the back of the couch where a blanket had been folded over it and lazily unwraps the material to throw it over your bodies.

"Com'ere" he sighs and adjusts for you to lay your head on his chest, holding you safely and securely on the small space of the couch. "Need to make sure you get your beauty sleep" he mumbles and squeezes your body one last time before seemingly slipping off to sleep again, unable to fight it back this time. You smile to yourself and nuzzle closer to him, more comfortable and warm. His breathing calms you as you finally drift off.

#ateez reactions #ateez reaction #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #mingi #yungo #kpop reaction #mingi fluff #yunho fluff #mingi x reader #yunho x reader

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