#a draft because i’m going through something and this is all you get | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

textmel8r · 3 months

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , alcohol consumption , inebriation , sexual harassment , violence , vomit

୨୧˚ an; i love nami kempo (dis shit like 4k werdssss) ALSO i’ve been getting comments that my tag list isn’t working for me dumb someone help me pls tell me what im doing wrong

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Why am I here?” Nanami thinks out loud, glaring pointedly around the unlit dive bar. It’s unglamorous, walls garbed in eclectic music paraphernalia, references that go right past him. Flurries of reds and yellows and oranges in the decor cut brightly, shining through the dim atmosphere. Seriously, would it kill them to switch a light on? It bustles with life; university kids, Nanami is subjected to think based on the… unique fashion sense present in the room. Street wear, torn jeans, crop tops way too short to be considered shirts anymore. He cringes, feeling entirely too dated to be hanging amongst this kind of crowd. His leg bounces restlessly under the ledge of the bar, and he turns to look at you. “Why are we here?”

You’re smiling—actually smiling—flagging down the bartender. “You knew we were coming to a bar,” you cut yourself short, holding up a single finger to him whilst you relayed your order to the older gentleman behind the bar. A rum and coke, you asked politely before glancing toward Nanami. It took a moment for him to realize what that look meant.

“I’ll have scotch, neat. Thanks.”

“As I was saying,” you steal back his attention, “I made it clear we were coming to a bar. What’s the problem?”

There was a hint of an attitude catching at your words, and Nanami felt his brow twitch in frustration. “You failed to tell me that we’d be in…” He grimaces, peeking back over his shoulder to the sea of youthful patrons slinging over nearly every stool and booth. “ . . . Mixed company.” God awful pop music fizzles through the speakers, twisting and crackling with pops of static; fuel to the billowing flames of Nanami’s overstimulation. “I was expecting something a bit more sophisticated.”

“I can tell,” you’re laughing as you give him a once over, and he gets a shiver of Deja Vu from the coffee shop where you pulled the same exact move. You tweeze at the expensive cotton button down, plucking the bunched fabric of a sleeve at the crease of his elbow. “Thought we said no more fancy clothes?”

Tonight he threw together a plain white shirt and a pair of slim fit khaki pants; the quintessential dad outfit, sure, but fancy? Nanami didn’t think so. “I’m dressed down.”

“Nixing the suit jacket and tie didn’t do much. You still look stiff, man.” Two glasses are brought over, one placed before either of you respectively. Nanami stares down into the glass, a foggy, brown abyss. His alcohol looks watered down and piss cheap. “You stick out, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh please, you’re too kind.” Nanami rolls his eyes, hunching over the bar and downing a swig from the scotch. Yeah, It was definitely watered down. Fuck this place.

Your hand slaps his back. “So dramatic. I was kidding Nanami, you look fine.” A cheeky laugh reaches his ears before you tack on, “very handsome.”

Now he knows you’re messing with him.

You grin into your cup. “Stop sulking. It’s not so bad here.” Nanami would beg to differ. A debate that isn’t worth having because frankly, it’s a Saturday night and he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to draft a list of all the cons that this joint has to offer. “We got booze,” you raise your glass. “Booze makes everything better.”

His forehead wrinkles. “That’s a horrible mindset to have, Y/n.”

Your boisterous laugh outweighs the ambient chatter, and you take a hearty gulp. Nanami follows suit, albeit a bit awkwardly, tipping more spirits down his throat. You look surprisingly comfortable, slinking against the bar counter with a hazy smile that welcomes strangers in. This time, you weren’t wearing a flowery dress; instead, a low cut shirt and jeans, both equal parts dark and tight. The neckline plummeted deep, exposing slivers of your bra cups and entirely too much cleavage. By God, was his self restraint something to write home about.

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation. All in all, Nanami enjoys talking to you now, even if once upon a time the thought of engaging with you evoked such dread that he’d outwardly avoid your presence around the office. Passing along orders specifically meant for you to other colleagues and entrusting them to deliver the message, lengthening the conveyor belt of relation simply because you got him in a tizzy. Back then, all Nanami could see when he looked at you was that cowardly girl in the bathroom with smeared lipstick and a trembling pout. How shameful, he thinks, that it took him this long to see past that terrible first impression.

“So there I was, balancing ten cups of coffee, shaking like a little bitch,” you laughed as you shared an anecdote from an internship in your university years. Nanami listened intently, head propped up on his fist as he watched your theatrics. Your cheeks flushed with the evidence of alcohol, eyes lidded, smile wobbly. Nanami was feeling the edge of his buzz coming on too, an amazing revelation considering the diluted alcohol this place served. “And I’m walking up ten flights of stairs–”

“Ten flights?” He gawks, feeling looser and matching you with melodrama. “What, did your office not have an elevator?”

You laughed. “It was out of order.”

“Your luck astounds me.”

You flip him off playfully. “I finally get to the last stair and my heel catches on the floor and I eat total shit in front of the entire room!” Nanami can’t stop his own tittering, cupping a palm over his grin. “Spilled the coffee everywhere, twisted my ankle, too. I probably laid in that puddle for ten minutes.”

“That’s why you don’t wear high heels anymore?”

There’s a grimace on your face when you nod, topping off the rest of your glass. “Mm.”

Nanami swaps his own story, of a time when he was in his third year of college and his work laptop got stolen. “I think I cried,” and you guffawed at his misery. “I’m serious, I really think I cried. Alone, on the floor of my dormitory. It was finals week, and I had written my dissertation on that laptop.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pulled an all-nighter in the library on campus and rewrote my entire thesis.” Merely remembering that chaotically stressful night had Nanami huffing a sigh of anguish and dragging an exasperated hand down his face.

The bartender slides you another drink. Gosh, he was lagging behind. “I would’ve dropped out.” You spoke over the rim of the glass.

“Trust me, I was really close.” Nanami’s eyes narrow, gaging the swell of your throat as you knock back a few swigs. “How many have you had?”

“A few.” Your answer was blunt, and from that Nanami could gather that his question had rendered you the slightest bit irritated. He understood why; you were a grown woman, who was he to regulate how many rounds you decide to have? But even with this understanding, the man couldn’t shake his concern. “More than you, old timer. Keep up.”

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek. “This is my last for the night.” Any more, and Nanami would wake up the next morning nauseous with a pounding headache. He took precautions to avoid breaching his limits, he really disliked that hungover feeling.

You gawk at the declaration. “How lame.” Then you hiccup.

“You can call me lame now, but which one of us will wake up tomorrow not in pain?”

You wave a hand through the air, brushing off his very astute observation. “Hush, that’s for future me to deal with. Present me doesn’t have a care in the world.”

You’re immature, but it’s amusing, so he doesn’t offer any rebuttals. The way you are so insistent on living in the moment is fascinating, almost inspiring even. Nanami feels as though he’s ever crushed by the impending future, always so concerned with what the next day, next week, next month, next year brings. He thinks ahead to a fault, and because of that, forgets to enjoy the little things. But you always stop and smell the roses. It’s admirable.

“Bartender!” You wag a finger in the air, slamming down your empty glass. Fiending for yet another drink.

Okay, maybe your ability to live in the now is to a fault as well. Nanami holds a hand up, signaling the barkeep to halt. “Sorry,” he apologizes politely, “she’s all good for now, thanks.” Ain’t that the truth. Your face looked tacky with sweat, pupils scarily dilated. Your words come out dimly slurred, and your gestures uncoordinated. As your business associate, he feels obligated to intervene at this point.

A hand slaps his down. Your hand. “Hey what gives?” You’re upset with him. “Just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am.”

“You’re three sips away from throwing up on yourself,” Nanami deadpans, unphased by your drunken outburst. Unbeknownst to the two of you, another patron had taken up the stool opposite of you. To be expected; the bar was decently crowded, that being said neither of you paid much mind to the man. He was younger than Nanami for sure, his hair unkempt and shaggy, swept back by sweat and something that looked like grease. He was smiling, probably on some brand of dope that Nanami was unfamiliar with. The stranger interrupts, leaning over with his elbow planted on the countertop.

“You her father or some shit?” He speaks without any warning, catching both you and Nanami’s attention.

Father? Nanami internally grimaces, jaw tightening. Just how old does he think I am? Trying not to be offended by the inquiry, he corrects the man. “Just a concerned friend, that’s all.” You have yet to speak, still a tad caught off guard by the unexpected company.

The stranger’s grin widens, reaching shit-eating status. “Then hop the fuck off her case, man.” He shoots a pair of lidded, droopy eyes toward you, eyebrows jumping in a manner that is entirely too suggestive for Nanami’s liking. “If the lady wants another drink, then let her have another drink.”

Nanami feels the awkward tension thicken the air between this interaction. For all the shit you talked about getting hit on in bars, he would have never expected you to act so timid when put in a position like this. Nanami fully expected you to side with the latter party, to order another round of vodka-whatever and then leave with your newfound knight in shining armor. What actually happened: “No, er, my friend might be right actually,” followed by an incredibly strained chuckle. Your shoulders stiffen, Nanami can practically feel the way you harden up beside him. “I should probably take it easy.”

The man feigns grief. “Aw, c’mon. You seemed so eager before. Let me buy you another?”

“She just said—”

“I was talking to her, not you.”

Nanami was utterly shocked by the sheer gall this young man possessed. Was he trying to intimidate him? It was painfully ineffective. “I don’t want one,” you said with a little more oomph this time, fiercely hanging on the urge to defend Nanami. It made him feel strangely prideful.

The stranger’s smile never retreated, but something sinister glinted in the ocean of his dark eyes. He gave a sniff, brushing the point of his nose with the pad of his thumb before hurling yet another unwanted flirtation your way. “Baby, hey, what’s one more drink? I saw you from across the room, I’ve been dyin’ to chat you up.” Under the table, his hand slips into your personal space. Nanami sees it unfold in his peripherals; the pallor hand slithering over your lap, grabbing a handful of your denim-clad thigh. You yelped in surprise, wincing. Nanami saw it all.

He was not a violent man. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s thrown a punch in his life on one hand. Physical fights were pointless, a waste of time and energy because Nanami wholeheartedly believed that altercations were best settled with words. But the moment your nervous squeak found his ears, Nanami couldn’t control the urge to beat this guy’s face in. So that’s what he did; sliding out of his seat to round you and pull the stranger off his stool by the collar of his faux leather jacket. The material felt cheap and mingy, not something Nanami would ever be caught dead wearing. Without so much as a second thought, Nanami sends a heavy fist barreling into the meat of his cheek. One good, solid punch, and the sinewy gentleman was tumbling to the ground, walking the thin line between consciousness. “Shit…” Nanami breathes, chest heaving with barely concealed rage, knuckles throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. The bar went dead, too many pairs of eyes locked onto him to count, but the only ones he could care about were yours.

You looked at Nanami with such astonishment, with your eyes pried wide as dinner plates and your mouth ajar. He was ready for you to yell at him, to curse him for embarrassing you in a pub you frequented, but nothing came. Well, almost nothing.

“Security!” The bartender hollered thick and deep, slapping a damp rag onto the counter with a wet plap.

“Shit!” Nanami repeated, cuffing a hand around the thinnest part of your wrist, tugging you into his side as you both raced toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

You’re gurgling and grumbling, latching onto the material of his shirt as little bouts of complaining bubbled past your lips. “Not so fast!” and “Oh God, my stomach” and “I don’t feel good.” Nanami had been reduced to your crutch at this point; he bore the entirety of your weight without batting an eye because your own legs were too wobbly to do it yourself.

“I know,” he murmured, maneuvering through the crowd. “Hold it together, we’re almost there.”

The first step outside felt like entering Heaven. Nanami basked in the cleanliness of the chilly night air, gulping down a big breath of fresh oxygen that hadn’t been tainted by marijuana smoke. But suddenly, you’re detaching yourself from his hip and he’s bewildered by your sudden need for proximity. “Y/n—”

He turns to face you, only to be met with the crown of your head. Doubled over at the waist, hands on the lower fraction of your thighs, you vomit onto the dewy pavement… and his shoes. Nanami’s cursing once more, drawing closer despite how much you obviously don’t want him to. “Alright,” he coos in exasperation, gathering your hair into a bundle and holding it away from the splash zone. “It’s alright, get it out.”

“You’re… Did I just puke on y-your feet?” Your voice is croaky, something of a mixture of embarrassment and illness. You can’t even look at him.

“Stand up,” Nanami tells you. He’s unbending you, straightening your body upright with a hand pressing your back in from his bowed shape. “Can you look at me?”

You pout, childlike. “No.” You’re looking at his shoes, the toes slick with remnants of your stomach acid.

“They’re just shoes, I have a million pairs.” His head cocks to a tilt. “Would you look at me, please?”

You’re sighing, but looking up to him nonetheless. Gazing up with big, glossy eyes and wet lashes that clumped together through tears. Eyeliner diluted and cradling your undereyes in a dark embrace. You wipe your mouth with the back of a palm, smearing shimmery gloss out of the confines of your lip line. It’s all so nauseatingly familiar, this pitiful display. Nanami decides he hates seeing you like this.

“I’m sorry,” you chirp.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’ll pay for them.”

Nanami puts a hand on your shoulder when he notices the slant in your posture. “Cut it out, that’s entirely unnecessary.” He looks around the parking lot, full of vehicles. They catch the glint from the yellowish street lamps. “Did you drive here?” He thinks it’s unlikely, seeing as you let yourself fall under such intoxication. You weren’t so irresponsible; if you drove here, you would’ve made sure you’d be able to drive home too, like he did.

You’re shaking your head. “Caught a train.”

Nanami nods, pleased. “Good. That’s good.” With all the grace and gentleness in the world, the man loops your limp arm back around his nape, securing you against his oblique with a sturdy arm snaked around your waist. Everything is ginger, lest he upset your stomach again. “Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

“Then let me take you to my car.”

That pulls a frown from you. “You don’t need—need to drive me there, Nana’. The station—” Hiccup “It’s just down the road.”

The blonde glowers. “You can barely stand on your own, public transportation is out of the question.” Like Hell he’s going to let an obviously inebriated, attractive young woman such as yourself ride the subway alone. Please, don’t make him laugh. “I’m driving you home.”

“It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a slow race, but Nanami eventually hauls you to his car parked at the entrance of the lot. A midnight shade Maserati; he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his luxurious ride. “If I had a car like this, I’d never leave it.” He laughs. You smack his bicep. “I’m not kidding, I’d sleep in this thing. She’s gorgeous.”

“She says thank you,” he huffs his response. Nanami leans you up against the side of his car, pinning you between its door and his thigh while he opens the passenger door. “Watch your head.” His hand curls around the roof’s ledge, a makeshift cushion to protect your skull as you duck into the car seat. Immediately, you’re slumping back into the comfortable leather interior, moaning out quiet mewls of exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’d definitely sleep in here.”

“Keep those eyes open.” The door swings shut, and Nanami makes haste when rounding the rear of his car to the driver’s side. He had barely toed the line of sobriety anyways, but knocking a stranger on his ass was definitely more than enough to woosh any semblance of haziness from his veins. Nanami wouldn’t think about driving—wouldn’t think about putting you or anyone else on the road in danger—if he felt even the slightest bit impaired by the scotch. Behind the wheel, the man leans across the center console to grab your seat’s safety belt, carefully dragging it over your chest and clipping it into the buckle. “I need your address first, then you can knock out.”

“My address…” You ponder, lips pursed and eyes blinking at a snail’s pace. Sleepiness prevails, and you fall in and out of slumber, head lolling and cheek mashed up against your shoulder.

Nanami carps, unappreciative of your inability to stay awake long enough for this much needed conversation. “Hey,” he bleats, patting the top of your thigh. “Come on, Y/n. I need to know where you live.”

You whine, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “The city.”

“You live in the city.” Nanami deadpans at the useless information you’ve just spared.

“Mm.” And then you’re drifting back to sleep.

Nanami pinches high on the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, over the permanent divets where his glasses have drilled into his skin. The contortment of his fingers sends another spike of pain over his bruising knuckles. “Wake up and give me a proper address.” He supposes his heated seats aren’t doing much to stave off your tiredness, so he presses his knuckle into the off button. You whine.

“I don’t remember, okay?”

That’s how you ended up at Nanami’s home, tucked under his lavish sheets in his bed that’s entirely too big for one person. Your outfit had been neatly folded and piled upon his dresser, exchanged for one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were cinched at the waist. He helped you into his clothes—with your undivided consent, of course. A completely clinical and respectful process; Nanami looked elsewhere, acting as a handle for you to hold onto as you stepped into the oversized pants he held open for you. They were far too wide, falling off your hips, so he took the time to tie a precious, little bow with the drawstrings.

“Comfy?” He asks upon his return to the bedroom, holding a glass of tap water in one hand, a bottle of pills rattling in the other. You’re exactly where he left you; swimming in his bedsheets, the comforter hoisted up to your chest. Nanami sets the water down on the bedside table, then takes a seat on the edge of his mattress, working the bottle open.

“I’ve never been more comfortable,” you sigh blissfully, taking a deep inhale. “Your blankets smell good.”

The blonde can’t help his chuckle. “I’ll give you the name of the laundry detergent I use tomorrow.” With deft fingers, he plucks two small tablets, light pain medication, and sets the pair on the table next to your water glass.

“Promise?” Your tongue pokes out from between your teeth, playful. He chides an airy yes, snapping the tylenol bottle shut. Then, your smile fades; you’re averting your eyes, fixing them somewhere over to the blank canvas of Nanami’s gray, bedroom wall. “Hey, um…” He watched the side of your face, watches the flex of your jawline and the tension in your neck. “Did I—I didn’t really throw up on you, right?”

You rub at your temple, like you’re trying to find the memory but it’s just out of reach. “No,” he replies instantly, steadily, like it’s not a complete lie. Like his bile-ridden shoes aren’t sitting outside on his front door step, waiting to be cleaned. “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy,” you grumble, frustrated with yourself. “I had too much.”

Normal circumstances permitted, Nanami would’ve totally took this opportunity to have his I told you so moment. But you already looked upset, maybe a little bit sick still, so he bit his tongue for you. “Some drunk imbecile interrupted us. We shared words, and then he got sick on us.” He was pleased with himself, his story must’ve been believable with the way you nodded along.

“And then you punched him, right?”

His face drops. “That’s what you remember?”

Your shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Nanami. Not for my entire life.”

“Kento.” You hum, confused, so he reiterates, “I mean, call me Kento. I just clothed you, I’d say we’re close enough.” It’s true, you guys were getting more and more comfortable together by the day. Even outside of work and the management project, Nanami and you share text conversations more frequently than he would’ve ever imagined. And these little hangouts—granted, only two have been executed thus far—have been the most fun he’s had in ages. More fun than he’d ever hope to have with his ‘friendly’ business colleagues. You’re his friend.

You, Y/n L/n, are his friend. What a strange fucking twist of events, it nearly gives Nanami whiplash.

“Ken… To…” You speak each syllable slowly, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He nods, grinning easily. Happy. “Kento, Kento, Ken—”

“Okay, okay enough.” He rises, arms raised as he gives a hearty stretch to his back. “It’s bedtime. Over there,” Nanami points at a door, “is the bathroom if you need it. You’ve got water here, and make sure you take the medicine in the mornings. You’re going to have a terrible migraine.”

“Wait, where are you gonna go?”

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Kento…” You whine, and he really wished you wouldn’t do that. “C’mere. There’s room.”

You’re patting the expansive open space beside you, peeling back the heavy blankets. It’s an enticing offer, to slip in beside you and feed off your body heat. To hold you to him and— Stop, what are you thinking? Stupid. “I think it’s best we don’t. Sorry.” And then he’s fleeing to the door because the way in which he worded that made the depths of his soul curl with cringe. Nanami bids you a polite sleep well before leaving you to the darkness, though he has enough sense left to keep the door cracked just in case you should yell for him in the night.

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1K notes · View notes

seungminhour · 8 months

Text

[💭] thinking about the types of hugs bf!skz would give you

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz (individual) x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : lots and lots and lots of fluff and hugs and just the boys being so smitten lol, probably some typos, i have not looked over this too well

◞✩ notes : this has been in my drafts for ages, but i never got around to finishing it lol. also, i wont lie, i loved writing in this little bulleted style. im gonna have to write more silly little things like this! anyway, i hope you all enjoy 🫶

01. bang chan - bear hugs

will open his arms and just let you launch yourself into his embrace no matter the mood you’re in

you’re sad? he just opens his arms silently and lets you come to him on your own terms

you’re seeing him for the first time since he left for tour? opens his arms and lets you come flying to him - catches you every single time

literally engulfs you completely

gently rocks you back and forth when you need it, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet things into your ear

“shh, baby it’s going to be okay. you’re fine, i’m right here if you need me”

definitely the type to cup your face, wipe your tears away and tell you to “turn that frown upside down” with the sweetest look on his face (it works every single time of course bc your bf is just so sweet and loving and caring and you can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at him)

tries so hard to shield you away from the rest of the world by being in his arms

also uses it as a way to annoy you

will come up behind you while you’re trying to do something and just drape himself fully over your back

won’t get off until one (or both) of you end up on the floor

02. lee minho - back hugs

i Really have been thinking about back hugs and lee know recently, like it’s taken over 80% of all my thoughts

he especially loves back hugs in the mornings, like i’m talking clingy in the mornings

sometimes you wake up before him and you’ll be cooking breakfast for the two of you and he’ll quietly sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and just watch as you cook

do NOT try to get him off of you, because he Will retaliate by digging his chin into your shoulder to get you to stop wiggling

you’ll feed him little bites over you shoulder while asking if it needs anything

he’ll do his cute little “mmm!~” and shake his head against your shoulder

you wake him up while while you’re trying to get out of bed? good luck because he’s reaching up and grabbing you by the waist to drag you back in

“where do you think you’re going? it’s not time to get out of bed yet”

holds you there until one or both of you fall back asleep

loves to stand behind you and watch you do your nighttime routine too

asks so many (of the same) questions just because he likes to hear you talk

gets all doe eyed while watching you explain to him the benefits of one face mask over the other

he really is just smitten

03. seo changbin - picks you up and spins you around

this man. oh my god

you cannot convince me that he doesn’t love to pick you up and just take you places

like if you wanna go somewhere and you’re sitting down, be prepared for him to just lift you up and take you where you need

time for bed? he will gently pick you up off the couch and bring you to bed himself, just because he can

absolutely looooooves when you get all flustered by it

“binnie, i can walk myself you know?”

“just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”

is alllllllll about the princess treatment

as a result this translates over to his hugs 100%

literally almost knocks over the guys when he sees you come in the practice room one day

sprints full force at you until he’s scooping you up in his arms to spin you around and around until you’re breathless and dizzy

loves to pick you up and gently sway the two of you when you’re not feeling the greatest

if you come home upset and he’s there, he’s immediately picking you up and rocking you side to side as he runs his hands through your hair

sometimes you want to talk about what’s made you this upset, other time you don’t, so he’ll just hold you in place until you tell him what you need - whether that be a warm bath to relax (which he carries you to) or to be let down so you can pace and rant about how shitty of a day you had

04. hwang hyunjin - buries his face in your neck

he just wants to be as close to you as he can possibly get

loves loves loves the whole skinship of it

sooooo many neck / shoulder kisses!!!

so soft and sweet about it :(

he’ll gently hold you face in one hand while he moves you hair to the side with the other so he can make space for himself between your neck and your shoulder

always leaves at least one kiss to your neck before he rests his forehead there

“you know, hyune, you can’t just hide in my neck forever. at some point you need to come out”

will literally pout, shake his head and shove his face closer to you

he’ll fall asleep like that too

if you two have a movie night on the couch, be ready for him to lay directly on top of you, shove his face into your neck, and then promptly fall asleep within the first 20 minutes

the list of unfinished movies you guys have is astronomically long because this happens so often

you can tell if it’s been a bad day when he comes home and immediately goes to hide away from everything in your neck.

you just hold him there for as long as he needs

sometimes he will talk about it, other times he will just sit there, quietly sniffling while you comb your hands through his hair to bring him a little comfort

05. han jisung - clings to you

i will forever and always stand by the fact that han jisung is one clingy motherfucker okay

like i’m talking he launches himself at you the moment you step through the door when you get home

will not let you go for at least 5 minutes

“hanji, babe, can you at least let me put my things down first?”

the little fucker would hold you tighter and pout “nooo, i just missed you so much, wanna hold you for a few more minutes”

definitely calls it his “recharging time”

will 100% get all whiny and pouty if he doesn’t get to hug you for as long as he wants to

somehow manages to be the worlds biggest blanket hog and the worlds biggest cuddler at the same time

half the time you wake up freezing cold on one side and burning up on the other from where he has cocooned himself in all the blankets and then clung onto you for dear life

does not shy away from sticking to you in front of his friends

if you guys have a movie night with everyone in the dorms, he is not content until you are sat in his lap with his arms wrapped around you and his head pressed against yours

bonus points if it’s a scary movie and you sit sideways in his lap so you can hide your face in his neck when it gets too spooky

06. lee felix - squeezes you

this man just has so much love and happiness to spread, he can’t help but squeeze the life out of you every time he sees you

it doesn’t matter how long it’s been either

a day, a week, hell even if you just go to take a shower and come back he’s squeezing you as soon as you return

most definitely shakes you a bit while holding on to you for dear life

grabs you and does the fully body vibrate thing just to annoy you

sometimes he gets a little carried away and you’ll have to remind him that you actually Do need to breathe at some point

“lix, baby, i can’t- i can’t really breathe-“

“oh!” he’d giggle bc ofc he would, “i’m sorry baby, sometimes i just forget how tightly i’m holding you.”

gives you tiny reassuring squeezes when you need them tho

he can somehow always tell when you’re having even the slightest of bad days

also can tell exactly what kind of squeeze you need

if you come home upset, he’s right there to grab you and hold you tight, kissing the side of your head as the tears that have been building up all day finally come crashing down

tries to physically squeeze the sadness from you because he hates seeing you like this :(

if you come home mad, he’ll sit with you while you rant about your day and offer small, reassuring squeezes to your shoulder to show you he’s listening

07. kim seungmin - rests his head on / against yours

idk smth about seungmin just screams that he loves to rest his head on or against yours

and if he’s tall enough to place his chin on the top of your head? oh he’s giddy about it every single time

loves to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind, place his chin on top of your head, and just stand there like that

is also a little shit about it ofc

“you’re so short, i can see clear over your head. how embarrassing.”

“yeah, but you love it.”

he does indeed love it.

he loves that he can rest his head against yours if he needs a little recharge and he loves the smell of your shampoo and he loves how close your temple is for him to kiss

oh that’s another thing

he will kiss your temple / forehead any chance he gets - like it’s literally his favorite thing to do

when you really need comfort, he’ll pull you close and kiss your forehead before resting his against yours while you try to forget how terrible of a day you had

softly knocks his head against yours just for the fun of it

he loves to hear you giggle and get tripped up on your words when he does it, so he’ll keep doing it until you physically have to pull yourself out of his embrace just to finish your story

08. yang jeongin - waist hugs

i just really think he would be the type to wrap his arms around your waist and never let go, ya know???

like he would always be holding your waist in some way when you’re out in public just to make it easier to tug you into his arms whenever needed

loves loves loves to slowly move his hands from your sides to your back just to tease you a little bit

will 100% use giving you a hug as an excuse to start a tickle fight tho, so always be on your toes

he’ll sneak up behind you, snake his hands around your waist while acting like the innocent and sweet and loving bf he is

and then as soon as you let your guard down he’s going in for the kill, digging his fingers into your sides and tickling the life out of you

won’t stop until you call mercy

“i’m going to have to take away your hugging privileges if all you’re going to use them for is to tickle me.”

“you wouldn’t dare to take them away. you love my hugs far too much for that.”

walks away all smugly because he know he’s right. you would never deny him a hug, even though you know the risk of it ending in tickles

loves to gently run his hands up and down your sides while he’s listening to you talk

he’ll definitely slide them under the hem of your shirt

sometimes this is to place his freezing cold hands against your warm skin to make you jump, other times it’s to provide comfort when you need it

he’s slide his hands under you shirt and gently runs his hands up and down your bare sides and back when you’ve had a particularly rough day

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dduane · 1 year

Note

Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?

I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.

I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.

I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?

Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.

Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:

It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)

Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?

Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.

So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.

It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.

Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).

And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.

You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)

The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)

Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.

(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)

Hope this helps!

#writing #writing advice #the Writer's Brain #storytelling

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likeumeanit9497 · 5 months

Text

yale | c.s. |

chris x fem!reader

read part two here

summary: chris and y/n’s relationship was strictly sexual, and they both seem more than content with meeting up whenever y/n can get time away from her school work — and her boyfriend. but after a particularly intense hook up where chris put his all into making y/n shed her stress from exam prep, it becomes clear that at least one of them is starting to want something more.

warnings: SMUUUUT; friends with benefits; cheating (do not do this pls); thigh riding; fingering; oral (f receiving); p in v; dirty talk; unprotected sex (wrap it); 18+

notes: i was (loosely) inspired by the first few lines of yale by ken carson when writing this hehe. im definitely not 100% happy with the ending of this one but i wanted to get this out of my drafts :p hope u all enjoyyyyyy <333

y/n: Hey. I’ve been super busy all day studying for my exams next week. Not sure if I’m going to be able to make it to yours today.

Chris: :(

Chris: Please come

Chris: You can study here

y/n: Definitely not. Your needy ass would just distract me.

Chris: I won’t I swear

Chris: I’ll hangout in Matt’s room or something and you can study at my desk

y/n: I don’t know…

Chris: I haven’t seen you in weeks :/

y/n: You miss me or something?

Chris: YES obviously bro

y/n: lol

y/n: I’ll tell Brad I’m going to study at the library. See you in 15, bro.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Adjusting the shoulder strap of my tote bag, I waited for Chris to come open the front door and let me in. I didn’t have to wait long, as after a few seconds I heard the sound of his feet clambering down the stairs before being met with his unbeatable smile beaming down at me. After returning the smile, I walked through the open door and headed in the direction of his upstairs bedroom, but was stopped by a strong grip on my arm. I was spun around and was suddenly facing Chris, his brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No kiss?” He asked with a pout. I winced, feeling guilty, before wrapping my arms around his waist and giving him a short but deep kiss. “Sorry Chris, my head’s just so scrambled. I have three finals as soon as I get back to Connecticut after Thanksgiving break and I’ve been so stressed about them.” I apologized as I moved my hand up to brush his hair out of his face. He must have just showered, because his hair was dripping wet and hanging over his sparkling blue eyes.

He brought his hands to my ass and squeezed it gently. “My Yale girl.” He said before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. Giggling at the ticklish sensation from his facial hair, I gently pushed him off. “You know I’m not your girl, Chris.” I rolled my eyes as I started climbing the stairs up to the living room. I felt him press up against me as I walked, before I felt his breath against my hair. “Today you are.” I felt a flutter in my stomach, my body reacting in excitement just from the thought of what was to come, but I quickly cleared my mind of all of its dirty thoughts for the sake of my academic future. “Only until eight, that’s when the library closes and Brad will know something’s up if I’m still out past then.” I could practically feel his eyes roll behind me. “See? I told you that you shouldn’t have brought him home for the holidays to meet your parents. He’s causing more problems than he’s worth” He grumbled. “Whatever you say Chris,” I teased, “But you’re still gonna let me study.”

As soon as we reached Chris’ room, I headed over to his desk and began pulling my laptop and study notes from my tote bag. Chris helped me by clearing all of his empty Takis wrappers and Pepsi cans off of the surface of the desk, and moving his headset and controller to the side so that there was plenty of room for me to lay all of my papers out.

“Can I grab you anything from the kitchen before I leave?” Asked Chris as he rested his chin on my shoulder, watching me unlock my laptop. I shook my head. “I’m good for now, thanks.” I responded, already feeling myself zone into my studying. “Okay. I’m gonna be on Fortnite in Matt’s room. He’ll be out all day with the rest of my family so he won’t mind.” I nodded my head again, only half listening to his rambling as my eyes erratically scanned all the information on my computer screen. He gently pressed his lips against my temple. “And when you’re ready for a break,” He reached his hand into the big pocket of his hoodie and I heard a muffled but familiar jingle before he pulled out the small red bell and placed it on the edge of the desk. “You know what to do.” I looked up to meet his knowing eyes and he flashed me a quick wink. I felt my lips curl into a small smirk and I nodded. “Got it.” He smiled before exiting his room, shutting the door behind him.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Rubbing my tired eyes under my glasses, I groaned in frustration. I had been using flash cards to practice my active recall for my Biology II final, and had answered the last four questions incorrectly. The most infuriating part was that I shouldknow the correct answers, but the hours I had spent studying nonstop had made me feel like I was burning out. I glanced at the time in the top right corner of my laptop screen. It was nearly 5:00. I had been studying at Chris’ for the past three hours straight. Exacerbated, I sighed and rested my head against the cold surface of the desk, closing my eyes for a moment.

After a little while, I forced my burning eyes back open and they landed on the small red object in front of me. In my erratic mindset from the hours I had spent studying, it was like the part of my brain that knew why I was really at Chris’s right now had shut off completely. I battled myself for a few moments; one half of me wanting to do the responsible thing and continue studying until I had corrected my mistakes, and the other half screaming at me to take a break. With my mind growing more and more excited at the idea of distracting myself from the mental gymnastics of Biology II, I reached for the bell and rang it three times.

Almost immediately, I heard a door creak open from down the hall and eager footsteps approaching. I watched from my place at the desk as the doorknob turned and Chris’ face popped in the room. “You ready for a break angel?” He asked as he made his way completely into the bedroom; shutting the door behind him before I even responded. Quickly stacking my flash cards and shutting off my laptop, I nodded. Immediately, Chris’ previously sparkling eyes seemed to darken before my eyes and a sly leer crossed his face.

Still sitting in the desk chair, I watched curiously as he slowly walked up to me; my head tilting up with each step he took in order to maintain our intense eye contact. Torturously slow, he leaned toward me and placed both hands against the arm rests of the chair to support his body. I waited, perfectly still, as his lips hovered in front of mine; the small space between them electric with anticipation. Finally, I felt my body immediately relax when his lips attached to mine. Our lips moved in sync slowly, his mouth painfully soft against my own. The kiss very quickly deepened, one of his hands now in my hair while one of my own wrapped around his neck, and a small moan is stifled by his tongue gently entering my mouth. Goosebumps began to rise over my skin as his mouth left mine and began traveling down my neck. Chris immediately found the spot just above my collar bone that he knew drove me crazy and began sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin; hard enough for me to roll my eyes back in pleasure but gentle enough to avoid leaving any evidence that his lips were ever there.

After trailing his lips back to mine and rhythmically kissing me for a few more moments, he stood up straight and gazed down at me. With a small smile, he hooked a finger under my chin and guided my eyes up to his. He brought the rough pad of his thumb to my soft bottom lip, and watched intently as he dragged it down slightly. “Come here.” He ordered as he began walking backward in the direction of his bed. I stood up on shaky legs and followed, straddling his lap at the edge of his unmade bed. Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I eagerly began kissing him again, feeling his content hums vibrate against my lips as he slipped his hands underneath my sweater, only to find out that I had chosen not to wear a bra. “Oh yeah,” I began, detaching my lips from his and innocently staring up at him through my eyelashes. “I was in such a rush to get here that I just threw this skirt and sweater on. I completely forgot to wear anything underneath them.”

I couldn’t help but smile slightly as I watched Chris’ blue eyes dilate to near-black as he realized what I meant. To confirm this realization, he pulled my black plaid skirt up over my waist to find my completely unclothed pussy hugging his thigh. His jaw went slack when he noticed the small dark patch already beginning to appear on his jeans from my arousal, and he immediately placed both of his hands firmly on my hips as if restraining himself. Eventually, he was able to pull his eyes away from my core and looked up at me with blown out pupils. His lips met mine once again, only this time they brushed against mine teasingly and without any sort of depth. Growing frustrated, I began grinding my hips against his straddled thigh so that I could find some sort of relief. At this, Chris’ grip on my hips tightened and his gaze fell down to where my core connected to his leg.

“You want to ride my thigh like a little slut, don’t you baby?” His voice sounded deep with lust, and I whimpered at his filthy words as I continued to chase my relief. Using his hands on my hips, he forcefully halted my movements and my eyes immediately snapped onto his. “Answer me, y/n.” He demanded, and I bit my bottom lip gently in frustration before quickly nodding my head. Chris smirked and shook his head slowly. “Use your words.” He said as his fingers moved mindlessly in a circular motion on my hips.

“Yes, please let me ride your thigh.” I managed to get out through my ragged breathing, and almost immediately he used the firm grip he had on my hips to slowly drag me up and down his thigh. Shutting my eyes in relief, I let him continue to grind my core down onto his thigh while I simply held onto his neck for support. The pool of arousal on his leg allowed my clit to glide with ease, but the rough texture of his denim supplied the much-needed friction against my folds that was beginning to drive me crazy. As our movements continued, Chris watched my blissful expression before bringing his lips to my neck, licking and nibbling softly. I moaned out his name as I began to feel the familiar build up of pressure in my lower stomach. “Are you feeling good, princess?” He mumbled against my neck and I nodded my head quickly. “You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” He asked as he brought his head back up. Again, I nodded with my bottom lip pulled tightly between my teeth. “I wanna watch you fuck my thigh yourself while you cum, so start moving princess.” He commanded as he removed his hands from my hips.

Without missing a beat, I began to grind my body against his at the same pace that he had me at before. I felt my body flush at the intense feeling of an orgasm building up, and I had to screw my eyes shut. “No y/n,” Chris began as he pulled my sweater up over my head to discard it. “I want you to look at the mess you’re making all over my thigh.” I threw my head back from the intensity of his words, but obeyed him. Looking down at my pink cunt’s rhythmic movements against his darkened jeans, I felt my orgasm finally bubble over. Gripping tightly at the base of his hair and whining out his name through clenched teeth, I gave into my high and rode out my orgasm on his flexed leg.

Once I felt the last whisper of my orgasm leave by body, I draped my head over his shoulder in an attempt to rest and catch my breath. I didn’t have more than a brief moment to do so, however, as in one swift motion Chris sat me up, laid himself flat on the bed, and pulled my hips up to hover over his face. “C-Chris I can’t, I’m so sensitive.” I whined, still feeling the weakness in my legs from my first orgasm. I felt his cool breath against my dripping cunt as he gazed up at it. “You can take it baby, I just wanna make you feel good.” He responded before lowering my core right against his open mouth. I was immediately overwhelmed by a white-hot sensation of arousal as his tongue danced around my bundle of nerves. A moan fell from his lips as he firmly gripped my ass with both of his hands and began manually grinding my core against his mouth just as he had done before on his thigh. Still feeling the overwhelming after-effects of my first orgasm, I could do nothing besides hold onto his long hair for dear life and repetitively moan out his name.

As my second orgasm started to build up in my lower stomach, Chris used one hand slap my ass; sending a row of shivers down my spine at the sharp pleasure. “Fuck Chris, I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” I cried out. I felt his mouth turn up in a smirk against my heat before his tongue quickened; now doing swift figure-eights against my clit. I felt my legs begin to shake uncontrollably on either side of his head as my second orgasm tore through me; this one being even more intense and lasting much longer than my first.

Chris gently lifted me off of his face and he once again took a moment to admire my dripping wet heat as it continued to pulsate above him. He placed his tongue at my opening and trailed it quickly up to my nerves to collect all of my arousal, and the contact on my already overstimulated cunt caused me to hiss through my teeth and buck my hips away.

“It’s so pretty baby.” He whispered, peering up at me from between my legs and causing my core to once again grow hot with need. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I leaned back slightly to place my hand on his clothed hardness behind me. Running my hand up and down its impressive length slowly, I wordlessly let him know what I really wanted.

Knowing me so well at this point, I didn’t need to do much else before he helped me move off of him. “Ass up angel.” He commanded and I immediately obeyed; pressing my chest into his mattress and arching my back as far as possible to give him the best view I could. I wiggled in anticipation as I heard him unzip his jeans and quickly pull them off. Soon after I felt his warm, swollen tip rub against my folds, and I whimpered softly at his teasing. He continued his agonizingly slow movements, knowing they would drive me crazy, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. In my discontentment, I pushed my entrance against his dancing tip and sighed in immediate relief as I felt the first couple inches of his enter me.

My satisfaction didn’t last long though, as Chris quickly pulled his hips back, causing his dick to fall out of me, before leaning forward; wrapping his long fingers around my neck and forcing my head up off the bed. “You’re such a needy slut, trying to fuck yourself with my cock like that.” I rolled my eyes back in pure bliss from the combination of his dirty words and the pressure of his hand around my throat. “You’re gonna stay still and be patient.” He whispered as I felt him use his free hand to resume teasing my cunt.

His tip swirled around my ass, slid across my clit, and finally made it back to my opening where he finally allowed only about one inch to rest in the crest of my hole; as if to test me. I stayed as still as possible, not wanting to prolong the torture for any longer, though it took everything out of me to not sink my shaking hips down again and swallow his shaft greedily.

“That’s a good girl.” He muttered gruffly as he finally pushed his cock slowly into my begging hole, earning a satisfied moan from me as he bottomed out. I felt my walls stretch out to fit his girth, and my eyes began to water at the intense pressure that I would never get used to. He removed his hand from my throat and placed it on the back of my neck while his other hand was gripped to my hip, using enough weight to hold me down as he began to slam into me repeatedly. His pace was slow, but he made sure to hit my sweet spot with each thrust, causing incessant moans to fall from my mouth.

“That feels good, doesn’t it baby?” He asked as his pace began to quicken slightly. Not being able to form a sentence, I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded my head rapidly. “Does Brad make you feel as good as I do?” His voice was gravelly but taunting, and I felt myself clench around him as he spoke. When I didn’t respond to his question, he fisted my hair and pulled my head up forcefully. “Tell me y/n, I wanna know. Does Brad fill you up like I do?” He practically growled in my ear, and I felt the tears in my eyes threaten to spill as another orgasm threatened to wash over me.

I gasped when Chris suddenly spun me around so that I was laying on my back with my head against the headboard. With his cock now just resting on my stomach, I whined at the loss of contact as he stared down at me with taunting eyes. “I asked you a question y/n.” He spoke calmly, but his hand’s firm grip on my jaw told me it was just a facade.

I brought my hand down between our bodies to lightly stroke his cock before reaching up to lightly brush my lips against his. The kiss grew deeper once I tasted myself on his tongue, before I finally pulled away to speak. “No. No one has ever made me feel as good as you do.” I watched closely as Chris’ pupils dilated from my words, and in an instant he plunged his cock back into me; my shocked moan stifled by his lips reattaching to my mouth.

I head fell back in ecstasy as he rolled his hips slowly to meet mine. His eyes were on me and I was jarred by the intimacy of our movements. My shock must have been clear on my face, as he seemed to have a moment of clarity before straightening up, hooking his arms around my legs, and slamming his cock into me hard and fast. His jaw went slack as his eyes gazed down to where our bodies fused into one, and I had to dig my nails into the wooden headboard as I approached my orgasm.

As the room filled with our moans and the wet smacking of our connecting bodies, his rhythm grew sloppy and I knew that he was as close to his orgasm as I was. Tightening my legs around his body to pull him even deeper into me, I wordlessly egged him on just as I felt my third and final orgasm take over my body. My back arched off of the bed and a string of profanities flew out of my mouth as I convulsed around his cock, and it wasn’t long before his breath hitched and his body stiffened; his stiff member shooting cum deep into me.

After we both rode out our highs, Chris collapsed onto my chest. As we both caught our breath — our bodies still connected and gently pulsating against each other — he lightly brushed a finger up and down my arm. I brought my hands to the back of his head and began gently massaging it. We continued to lay there in silence for so long that I began to feel my eyes grow heavy with sleep, before I was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of his voice.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice muffled by my shoulder. “Pretty good, honestly,” I responded with a laugh, his one-dimensional question throwing me off,“You?” I felt him raise his shoulders into a shrug. “Me too.” He responded simply. Still too tired to move, I closed my eyes again as I relished in the light feeling that always came after really good sex.

“Did you really mean it when you said that no one makes you feel as good as I do?” Chris’ question made me jump, partially because I almost dozed off again but mostly because of its intensity. I stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to approach this conversation. It wasn’t the first time that Chris had spoken to me like that when we were sleeping together, in fact he asked me some form of that question nearly every time. It always just seemed like some sort of egotistical dirty-talk thing for him, so I never really thought much of it once it was over. But Chris had never asked whether or not it was true in post-sex conversation before, and it scared me a bit.

Obviously, I couldn’t stay quiet forever, so I decided that the best way to answer would be with honesty. “Yeah. I meant it.” I finally said, and he lifted his head off my should to look at me. “So why are you with him?” I was once again shocked by his words, as our no-strings-attached scenario had been a very mutual decision at the start. Chris made it clear that he had commitment issues and I was already in a relationship with someone else, so it had worked out perfectly for both of us. Or so I thought before Chris rocked the boat with this conversation.

Confused, I gulped quickly and furrowed my brow as I watched his face for any sign of a joke. With a stone-still face and eyes filled with shining apprehension, I quickly realized that he was in fact being serious. “What are you saying, Chris?” I asked timidly, and in response he planted a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “I don’t know,” He began, “I think that… I don’t know, maybe we’d be pretty good together.” His voice wavered near the end, as if he couldn’t believe that he was actually saying those words.

Trying to keep my expression neutral so that he wouldn’t freak out, I gently rubbed his back. “Chris, our situation was set up to be the way it is for a reason. You don’t want to date and I-” I paused for a moment before Chris finished my sentence. “You’re with Brad, I know. But you said it yourself that he doesn’t make you feel the way that I do. And you have to know as much as I do that our sexual chemistry isn’t just surface level.” He rambled on as I just stared up at him like a deer in headlights.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t ever wanted to hear him say these things to me. When I first started hooking up with Chris eight months ago, there had been a part of me that wanted more. Brad and I didn’t have the healthiest relationship, and my first time sleeping with Chris was actually my opportunity to even the score from when Brad had cheated on me a few weeks before then. But the sex had been so good, and Chris and I had gotten along so well that we decided to continue behind Brad’s back. During those first few times I would have absolutely left Brad if Chris gave me any sign that he wanted more than sex, but that was months ago. Things had grown more complicated since then, and I was truly blind-sided by this sudden confession.

“Chris, I brought Brad home to meet my parents.” I whined, growing a bit frustrated at the situation I was now in. “I know you did. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a decision right now, or even ever.” He brushed his hand across my cheek as he spoke. “I’ll take whatever part of you that I can get until you’re done with me, no matter what. But, I really, really want more.” My head spun so rapidly at his words that I had to close my eyes. He planted a gentle kiss on my left eyelid, and then my right, before lifting his body off of mine.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I just felt like you needed to know how I’ve been feeling.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed my temples in contemplation. I watched his silhouette as he grabbed a towel off his shelf, wiping himself down before passing it to me. There was a opaque hush in the room as we both cleaned up and got dressed, and I felt like I could burst at the tension.

I walked over to his desk and began collecting my notes in silence, packing them back up in my tote bag. “You’re leaving?” I heard Chris’s apprehensive voice from behind me ask as I swung the bag over my shoulder. I checked my phone, it was just after seven. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to focus on studying here right now. I’m sorry Chris.” I mumbled as I headed towards his bedroom door. He stayed silent, but followed me down the hall and towards the stairs. I felt a lump grow in my throat from the guilt of staying silent, and wanted nothing more than to erase the past twenty minutes from my memory. My mind fogged with confusion as I bent over to put my shoes on, and when I straightened up Chris was standing in front of me. He gave me a faux-cheerful smile, clearly not wanting me to feel bad, and I wrapped my arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Focusing on the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles on my lower back, I stayed in his embrace for what felt like hours. Eventually, I pulled back and grabbed his face in both of my hands.

“Let me just get through my exams. I’ll call you after them all and we can figure this out, okay?” I tilted my head, hopeful that my response was enough for him right now. I felt my body relax as a shy smile crossed his face, and he nodded quickly. “Good luck, smart girl. You’re gonna kill your exams. I’ll see you when they’re all over.” He gave me a quick peck on my lips before I walked through the open front door and stumbled to my car. With shaky hands, I started my engine and began backing out of his driveway, nervous about the future but certain about what I had to do.

I just had to get through Thanksgiving with Brad and my family, survive finals week, dump my boyfriend, and come back here as soon as possible to have a very important conversation with Chris. Nothing too crazy, right?

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #Spotify

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 month

Note

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?”

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.”

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence.

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.”

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards.

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss.

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt.

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now.

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs.

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges.

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.”

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves.

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes.

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising.

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.”

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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wannabeschyulersister · 8 months

Text

lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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lowkeyremi · 27 days

Text

YOU’RE DOING GREAT, MAMA !

pairing: ushijima x fem!reader note: this has been in my drafts foreverrrr. it’s finally seeing the world thank God. i need to write more abt toshi summary: your husband comforts you through postpartum depression. content: angst, fluff, bittersweet moments, marriage, implied pregnancy, reader doubts her ability to be a mother, etc

The three of you returned home after three days in the hospital. During those three days you haven’t really been yourself at all.

Your baby boy, Nao was born healthy and strong. He’s doing all the normal stuff a newborn should do, but for some reason when you look at his tiny face you feel dread pitted deeply in your stomach.

Shouldn’t you feel joy when you see your little baby’s face? A lump forms in your throat as you start to think of the worst outcomes. Are you… rejecting your child? There’s no way. You and your husband spent months waiting for little Nao’s arrival. You were so excited setting up his room and buying him stuff. The ultrasounds were also very amusing to look at.

None of that excitement remains right now. “You must be tired, honey. Since you’ve already nursed him I’ll put him to sleep.” Wakatoshi pulls you out of your saddening thoughts. He shoots you a look of worry, because you’re clutching your chest tight, like you’re struggling to breathe.

“O-okay. Thank you ‘Toshi.” A faux smile crosses your face just to try and reassure your husband. He walks off to Nao’s nursery with his baby carrier in hand, but you know that he knows you well enough to ask what’s wrong later.

While your husband put Nao to sleep you changed out of your clothes into some comfy pajamas and you head to the bathroom to pee, brush your teeth and wash your face.

As the minty paste foams in your mouth you start thinking about your son again and you don’t even notice that you’re crying until-

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” His voice comes soft and he uses his big hands to wipe away your salty tears.

You spit out the toothpaste, and in a few seconds you’re rinsing your toothbrush and your mouth out.

“I’m not sure- I just- I-” you pause letting out a shuttering breath, how do you even explain something like this? “I’m not as excited about Nao as I had been before he was born…”

Wakatoshi engulfs you in a hug from behind. “I’ve noticed at the hospital how you didn’t want to hold him much.” He too pauses before continuing on, “I was reading into this a few months earlier, but many women get postpartum depression after their baby is born.”

“This doesn’t make any sense, we just brought a life into this world and I don’t even feel any excitement about it.” Wakatoshi rubs small comforting circles onto your stomach which hasn’t completely gone back to its normal size.

“‘Toshi am I a terrible mother already?” You ask looking at him through the mirror. His brows furrow at the suggestion and he shakes his head violently which almost cheers you up because it’s so out of character for him.

“Not at all. Please do not talk about yourself that way. You’re going to be an amazing mother. Just give it some time.” He’s telling the truth, Wakatoshi is nothing but brutally honest about things, so you have no choice but to believe him.

Although, everything feels like it’s not okay, you allow your husband to comfort you through these baby blues. It won’t last forever, you tell yourself, as you put your toothbrush back in the cup.

Wakatoshi kisses your temple, it’s so soft and delicate. “We’ve created a beautiful baby boy and he’s going to grow up with the most loving parents.” He means that too, Wakatoshi grew up in a divided household so it’s no wonder he wants his son to grow up in a household that’s warm and loving.

“You’re right, we’ll raise our baby boy the best we can. Thank you ‘Toshi. I really needed to hear that. I was starting to spiral.” He squeezes you in a hug again.

“It’s nothing, and if you ever feel yourself in these baby blues again, just let me know, so I can remind you that you’re a great mother.” What in the world did you do to deserve this man?

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 11 months

Text

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him.

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time.

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips.

he can’t be serious.

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly.

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice.

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week.

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it.

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him.

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could.

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package —

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt.

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit.

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards.

but no — he wanted you to wear it.

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?”

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too.

”— because you love me?”

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly.

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?”

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble —

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak —

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer.

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?”

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly.

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows.

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t.

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love.

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all.

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh.

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant.

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this…

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate.

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry.

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.”

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings.

it’s a perfect fit.

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit.

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves.

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute.

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?)

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses.

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together.

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer.

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear.

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected.

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.)

”… why aren’t you saying anything?”

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet.

he’s completely stunned.

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck.

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy.

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal.

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears.

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens.

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle.

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration.

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look.

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression.

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.”

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear.

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted.

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters.

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet.

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all.

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips.

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins.

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin.

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin.

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying.

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink.

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile.

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!”

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible.

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there.

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful —

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

#satoru ”my girl look so good today im abt to scream and moan and throw up” gojo #he is so husband coded to me. so unbelievably babygirl #he would absolutely wear a maid dress if u asked him to btw. and he would rock that shit so hard.#just……. gojo in a dress………….. breathe if u agree #im a firm believer in flustered satoru also…..#it wouldnt happen often but if u act cute enough i just think smth in his brain stops working #and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks #who said that.#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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vincentintheflesh · 1 month

Text

Head On Over

“Damn, I look so fucking hot..” He mumbled to himself as he admired the picture of his exposed self.

“Wonder which one I should use for the next post..”

…

Draft edited 05/04/2015

Sup guys! Jason here.

As you can see, I’ve been taking pictures of myself out in the open and exposed! Why? Well, people don’t really pass by these areas and it gives me this weird (but good) feeling when I show myself off. Not in the kind of way where you feel like you could get caught- but in a way where someone is actively watching you. No one was ever there when I checked around though. Dunno. I swear I never got this feeling before getting to this place but it’s prob nothing.

Aside from my sexy little shots, everything here is pretty cool. Lots of nature, sunlight, mountains, and hot locals. One of the guys here in particular has really stuck in my mind. He didn’t really do anything interesting- he just seems to be everywhere. Dunno how he does it but I see him at least 3 times whenever I go out, and he has a different outfit on each time. Not gonna lie I was a bit creeped out because I thought he was stalking me. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that he never glanced in my direction until I approached him. I was able to talk to him a bit and I guess he’s cool and pretty hot up close. Also noticed something about his neck but I didn’t say anything.

He also told me that I was welcome to “head on over” anytime. Wasn’t sure if I really wanted to enter a stranger’s house at first, but we’d already talked for a good bit so why not? What could go wrong? I could totally beat his ass if needed to. And I’m pretty sure that this area is relatively safe too so maybe he won’t kill me lol. Don’t really have much else to do anyway since my vacation is almost over. Might as well have a bit more fun before I go.

Draft edited 05/05/2015

Alright, I’m heading over to that guy’s house. Wish me luck dudes.

…

“Hey! Good to see you, Jason.” He nonchalantly said as he waved his muscular left arm at Jason. His smile was wide as he sat up from his shaded porch to walk towards him. As he moved into the sun, his hard and defined muscles revealed its chiseled form under its light.

“What’s up, man.” Jason returned the smile, his eyes darting between the man’s face and abs.

“Come on in.” He said with a knowing smirk “I’ve only got milk for drinks right now. Is that alright?”

“..You hinting at something?”

“...No.” He smirked as he pulled the door open.

…

The moment I walked through that door… I suddenly remembered the pictures that I took of myself and the feeling of it. Huh, that’s random.

Before I could question it any further, his voice pulls my attention towards him.

“Follow me.” He said in his usual friendly manner.

I immediately listened for some reason. I assumed that he was going to lead me to the living room or something, but he just kept bringing me to these doorless, empty, and identical hallways. We occasionally took a few turns but that was it. And throughout it all, he seemed a bit.. Out of it? Each time I tried to make conversation, he just gave me clipped answers with that same smile. What was up with him..?

I looked behind me, contemplating whether or not I should leave but only saw the endless hallway.

“Oh- we’re almost there! Don’t turn around just yet!” He suddenly called to me from farther ahead. At this point, I really didn’t want to be here anymore. When I tried to just leave though, my feet just wouldn’t budge. It was like the carpet was gripping onto me whenever I tried to step away from the man, so the only way was towards him.

Ugh…

We eventually reached a room that seemed to somewhat resemble a living room. Wooden floor, two couches and a table.. And that was it. No windows or decorations. I knew it- this guy was a weirdo… I sigh as I stepped forward.

…

The moment he stepped into the room, he was overcome by an overwhelming numbness.

“…”

… Wait.. Why does my neck- Why can’t I feel anything…?

“Sorry- ” the man apologetically said as he turned to me.

What’s going on..?

“I’ve really been needing this..and so has the house so… Yeah.”

He shrugged. There was a bent smile on his lips.

“But I’ll take good care of your body, alright? It’s a promise.”

What the fuck is he talking about?? What’s happening?!

I tried to scream as I felt his cold hands gently clasp around my neck. And then, they suddenly tightened and pulled upwards.

Pop

“There we go!”

My eyes widened as I looked down after hearing the noise.

Is that..

My body?

…

The man gently placed Jason’s head down onto the little table, facing him in a way that guaranteed that he would see what was about to happen. He silently smirked at Jason as he roamed his hands around the headless body’s bulging muscles. As he did so, his hands slowly inched towards his pants… and suddenly, the body’s semi-hardened package straining against his jocks was in full view for both Jason and the man. Jason couldn’t believe his eyes as he witnessed what was unfolding. His very own body twitched and squirmed whilst under the mercy of the grinning man.

For a moment, he stopped his groping and stepped back.

“Alright, give it to him.” He said, clapping his hands twice.

Just then, the spot of the ceiling directly above the body began to twist and morph as if it were slime. It only did so for a few seconds until something familiar emerged from it. A hint of recognition passed through Jason’s eyes as he watched it cleanly plunge onto the stump of his headless body. He glanced between the man that brought him here, and the head. They shared the same dark hair, dark eyes, stubble, thick eyebrows, styled hair, and mismatching skin tones on their necks… Suddenly, everything made sense to him.

The newly attached head slowly opened its eyes and looked around. Its lips curled into a smirk when its eyes fell upon Jason’s bodiless form.

“Finally…”

Its right arm rose up and bent into a flex, while its other hand made its way down to its bulging jock, firmly squeezing it.

“Mmmm… Fuuuuck…” It moaned as it began to peel away its jockstrap to free his throbbing member.

As it controlled Jason’s limbs to feel its stolen muscles up, the other man approached his body from behind, pressing his tented pants against his bubble butt. The two of them lustfully grinned at each other before pressing their lips together. Their tongues twisted into each other whilst their warm bodies grazed on one another. The head began to stroke his hardened length and the man hungrily rubbed his cock against his ass, the both of them desperate for a release. The man then pulled away and repositioned himself in front of the body. He kneeled down and quickly took its length deep into his throat. Wet squelches of his mouth echoed throughout the room as he relentlessly thrusted his head back and forth.

The body thief reeled its head back and grunted in pleasure. It thrusted forward, grasping the man’s head as he erupted, warm drops of white leaking out from the corners of the man’s mouth.

And throughout all of this, Jason could only watch as a bystander- hindered by his bodiless form.

“...It’s… cold…” he finally said. His eyelids became heavy as he drifted off to a deep slumber. The ceiling shifts again, twisting and turning. This time, thick tendrils emerge from it, reaching down onto Jason’s head and encircling it. As if accepting an offering, it pulled his head into itself.

“Do you think he’ll mind a little makeover?” The man nonchalantly asked the head as he looked at the ceiling.

“Well, who would mind looking like me… or rather, us?” The head replied with a laugh.

The man smiled “Hm, no one of course- but we’ll need to find a body for him.”

“Right right… But why don’t we have a bit more fun before that..?”

“I'm all yours.”

#possession #muscle theft #head swap #head replacement #body theft #body swap #headless #natural body magic #male natural body magic #nbm #detachment #anomalyvincent #detachmentvincent

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

Text

Distance isn’t the solution | Bucky Barnes

// Pairing // College!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x College!Virgin!Omega!Fem!Reader

// Summary // Your heat isn’t only causing pain in your stomach, it also causes pain in your chest when you can be so close to your mate but at the same time so far away when he is the fuckboy he always is.

// Wordcount // 9.383 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, A/B/O Dynamics, Bucky being a dick, true mates, losing virginity, choking, kind of dirty talk, praises, nipple play, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, angst, fluff

// Authors Note // Thank you to @bucks-babe for encouraging me as well as for proofreading. This was in my drafts since April because I wasn’t motivated to write the smut but now here we are.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

When he walked into the room like the biggest idiot you were already annoyed because of him. James Buchanan Barnes, everyone immediately loved him and all the omegas were trying to jump in his arms so he could mark them.

But you? A confident but also shy Omega — you were the one in class who didn’t pay attention to his beautiful scent, to his ocean blue eyes and his rough laugh which caused goosebumps when you first heard it. But as much as the omega in you tried to get you closer to the handsome Alpha, you stayed away from him — not wanting to end up like another omega fucked and pushed away from him.

James looks like he is waiting for the omegas to get into their heat to fuck them. It wasn’t just for his pleasure since he helped them to handle the pain of their heat but on the other hand you don’t even know if he just fucked until he comes or until they do too. However, none of the Omegas ever mentioned that James claimed one of them, so he is only looking for a great round of fun to go to the next girl and have a new hole for his dick.

“Hi, pretty girl!” A rough voice says next to you and you roll your eyes. Since you’re using blockers — so you won’t have your heat and your scent isn’t there then as well — no Alpha is talking to you like that, except James.

“What do you want? I’m not in need to have something filling my hole,” you groan and his eyes widen before he smirks even wider. Wouldn’t you smell him, you would believe that he is smirking but his scent slightly changes when he is annoyed or angry — like right now. Before you can say something else he clenches his jaw and forms his hands into fists, slams them next to you on the table and leans down.

“Fucking hate ya attitude. Gonna need to show ya where ya belong to, ‘mega?” He asks, his voice low, chasing your throat to feel suddenly like a desert — dry and even dryer. He lets himself fall down next to you on the chair, your body tenses and you try to move as far as possible away from him. His hand which is still placed on the table is sliding closer to your hand. You’re pulling away, looking with widened eyes at the boy in front of you who can’t stop but laughs. “Ya know you can’t fucking resist me forever. Gonna fuck you at some point.”

“I’m not a toy for you, James,” you hiss, ready to slap him across his face but he leans back in the seat and shakes his head.

He has never had an Omega disobey or tried to resist him. And it annoys him that you do — you! He isn’t dump, he knows you’re mates but he isn’t ready for a relationship like that just yet. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you, wanting to pound into you and make your eyes roll back while you come all over his cock. James knows that you use blockers so you won’t have your heat, but even through them he can slightly smell you and it makes him go crazy.

“Every girl wants to fuck me, so why don’t ya — ma mate — why do ya say no to me and my best friend?” James asks, looking down to his dick and you groan frustrated.

“Your best friend? Your cock is your best friend? Does he have a name? Maybe Bucky? Can you and your cock leave me alone, I don’t wanna fuck you!” You tell him, turning to face the whiteboard in front of the class.

“If ya wanna know, he doesn’t have a name. But he is pretty. I can show ya if ya want?” James asks, smirking when another frustrated groan leaves your lips.

He isn’t ugly, to be honest he is beautiful, handsome and muscular. With his soft brown hair, his steel blue eyes, the low voice and the perfect smile he is definitely the type of guy you like — but he is a fuckboy. James had probably sex with every girl in your age, probably also with almost everyone at the college.

“I don’t want to see your tiny dick, can you please fuck off and annoy another girl?” You mumble, feeling the Alpha next to you tensing even more. His hand snaps out, grasping your chin and he turns your head around so you have to face him.

“You shouldn’t talk like that with an Alpha! Especially not with your Alpha,” James says, his hand squeezing your jaw and you try to back away but his hold is too strong. You shut your eyes close, slight pain running through your jaw. A soft whimper leaves your lips, causing James to chuckle.

“You’re not my alpha,” you say through gritted teeth, making the boy in front of you even angrier with your behavior. He hates the way you talk back but at the same time he is so fucking turned on. (the cock is distracting)

“You know — just as I do — that we are mates. So shut the fuck up or I will help you after the class to do so!” He says, raising his eyebrows when you scrunch your nose. “Don’t look like that.”

“Can you please fuck off?” Your voice is calm but he can still hear a slight change in it. But it’s nothing he thought he would hear, it’s more like a slight hint of pain in your voice. Your hands find their way to your lower stomach and you press down, trying to get rid of the feeling that builds down there.

James tilts his head slightly, inhaling deeply when the reason you act like that hits him. Your heat is coming and your blocker doesn't work anymore — but you don’t act like you know it. He lets go of your chin, inhaling once more. Your scent causes his dick to grow and with every breath he smells you more and more — already addicted to you scent.

“Fuck—“ you mumble, trying to curl yourself more into a little ball. A low groan from behind you makes you turn toward James and a quiet whimper leaves your lips. Before James can say something, you take your things, getting up to storm out of the room. He looks at you, hearing you excuse yourself before you run out of the class.

The smell of you is surrounding James, causing him to groan before he leans back and inhales deeply. The bulge in his pants grows when he thinks about you, moaning underneath him, squirming and whining while he pounds his dick into your tight cunt.

You run along the floor, your hands holding your stuff tightly pressed against you. Your lower stomach sends waves of pain through you. Tears fall down your cheeks, the pain gets worse and you realize you just went into your heat — you see that especially when the Alphas around you inhale deeply and groan, their eyes are on you while you make your way to your dorm.

When you reach your dorm you throw your stuff to the side, letting yourself fall down on your bed to curl yourself together. The pain in your stomach grows and you whimper slightly, pressing your hands on your stomach to get rid of the pain but it just doesn’t want to work.

You haven’t had your heat in a long time since you used those blockers but now they don’t want to help anymore and you’re thrown in your heat. You know that sex with an Alpha would help — sex with your mate to make the pain in your belly less worse. But asking another Alpha or James to have sex with you? You don’t want to be a toy for them and you’re way too shy to just ask someone to help you with such an intimate thing.

James shifts in his seat, a feeling he never felt before appears in his body — something like pain and guilt. The teacher is just explaining something when he just gets up from the chair, causing it to crash against the table behind him. Every pair of eyes is suddenly on him but he doesn’t mind, he takes his things and walks toward the teacher. Just before he reaches him he turns to the side and walks to the door, leaving the room. With fast and heavy steps he makes his way through the floor.

You’re still curled on your bed when you hear a loud knocking. You only whimper, tears falling down your cheeks and soaking your sheets. When you manage to say a quiet ‘yes?’ the door swings open and you can hear heavy footsteps, then the closing of the door. You inhale deeply, body tensing when you recognise the smell.

“Don't you have classes or can you ask another girl to suck off your cock?” You mumble quietly. James chuckles, slightly annoyed about your attitude but he pushes it away and walks further to you.

“Think ya need some help, ‘mega,” he says, sitting down next to you on the bed. His hand reaching out to stroke over your side, your body still tensed and you tremble slightly when his warm, soft skin touches yours. “Can feel it, so let your Alpha help ya with the heat.”

You shake your head, curling further into the ball you already are. His touch is so soft and warm and you just want to give in. But James is a fuckboy and you’re a virgin and even though he is your mate you don’t want to be just another girl he fucked for him.

His hand slips under the fabric of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your lower belly and his hands feel so good, that you move a bit closer to the Alpha, his thigh pressing against your ass, while he rubs your lower stomach softly.

“Feelin’ good, doll?” He asks, his voice soft and you nod. Pressing yourself more against him.

Your pussy is throbbing and you crave more of his touches. His scent surrounding you and his warmth against you makes your mind go fuzzy and he knows it. James feels the same way, but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable to he let you decide if you want him to fuck you or not, even if he would make love to you.

You’re looking so pretty and he wants to see more of you, James wants to hear those whimpers which are leaving your lips because his cock is stroking your walls, hearing your sweet moans while he thrusts into you. “Can I touch you a bit lower?”

Another shake of your head causes him to sigh softly. You turn your head, looking at him with heated cheeks and red eyes. “‘M a virgin. And I’m not beautiful, you will laugh about me,” you say, looking through your lashes.

A low chuckle leaves James lips, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you up until you sit in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. You can feel his growing bulge against your ass, squirming softly in his lap. His hands grabbing your waist tighter, holding you in place while he leans closer and kisses your neck softly.

“You’re beautiful, doll! Let me take care of ya,” he groans, nibbling at your skin. You throw your head slightly back, the feeling of his lips and teeth scratching over your neck makes you cunt leaking even more.

You nod your head, giving in to the pleasurable feelings he is causing. James' hand slides further down to your thighs. He moves his big hands up and down your inner thigh, his lips still touching your neck. When one of his hands reaches your covered pussy you squirm, shifting on his leg and your body tenses once again.

“Still, omega! You can relax, I’m not gonna hurt you, just help you to get through your heat,” he says, fingers circling your clit through the fabric of your pants. You squirm a bit on his lap, feeling his bulge growing in his pants. A soft moan slips past your lips, his fingers still rubbing your clit slowly.

“James, please,” you mumble, throwing your head against his shoulder. He groans, his hands grabbing your waist and he pushes you further down on his covered cock.

“That's not what you're supposed to call me,” he says, kissing your jawline and down to your neck. His lips feel way better than you expected and you lean more against James. “Come on, say it and I will make you feel good. You will never want another dick in your tight pussy.”

His hands make their way to the hem of your shirt, he grasps it, pulling at it until you move a bit away from him and let him take off your shirt. He throws it to the side, his hands find their way back to your sides, snaking over your belly and caressing your skin softly.

James lips are on your neck, he nibbles on your sensitive skin, leaving marks on your neck. You moan softly, his hands sliding up to capture your breasts with his huge hands. “Say it properly, doll.”

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, rocking your hips slowly against him. His cock pressing painfully against his pants. James unclasps your bra, letting it fall down before his hands make their way back to your breast. His fingers pinching your nipples softly, he twirls them while he listens to your soft moans.

James grins, his lips sliding along your neck. He groans when he inhales deeply, inhaling your beautiful and intoxicating scent. “Good girl.”

You place your hands on top of his, bringing them to your belly but you wait a moment before you place them at the hem of your pants. James gently bites nto your soft skin, causing you to yelp in surprise. He slides one of his hands underneath your pants, still having the thin fabric of your panties between your pussy and his fingers.

James circles your clit through your panties, you buck your hips forward, causing more pressure on your clit. A low moan slips past your lips. He chuckles, loving the way you move against his fingers to ask for more friction. “Wanna feel my fingers in your sweet little pussy, omega?”

You nod lightly. James pulls his hand out of your pants, opening them before he places you properly on the bed and helps you out of them, throwing them somewhere in the room before he gets back in between your legs. Now there is only the thin fabric of your panties that's between your pussy and his fingers.

He crawls between your spread legs, smirking down at you. The Alpha brings his fingers back to your clit, pressing softly against your sensitive button before he pushes the fabric to the side so he can finally slide his fingers through your wet folds until he reaches your entrance. A soft whimper leaves your lips when James pushes a finger against your tight entrance. He then pushes his finger slowly into your tight pussy. Your walls are squeezing his finger already and he makes his cock even harder in anticipation.

“Fuck, look at your, doll. Taking my finger like the good omega you are, huh? So fucking tight, can't wait to fuck you probably, ‘mega,” Bucky growls, his voice lower as usually and his eyes look like the are only dark shades instead of the ocean blue you're used to see when you look at him.

“B-James, please,” you whine, arching your back to push yourself more against him. His expression changes lightly when he notices the name that almost slipped past your lips. What would he give for it — he wants, he needs to hear you calling him by his nickname, maybe not while he fucks you but in every other situation where you’re not calling him Alpha.

With a chuckle he curls his finger inside of you, your arousal making it easy for him to move inside of you. His finger massaging your sweet spot, bringing you faster to the edge than you ever thought would be possible. James feels the change of your soft moans and the way your pussy is sucking him deeper while you squeeze him violently. He pulls his finger out of you, leaving you needy and whining for more.

“Quiet, Omega. You get what you need but don't want you to come just now, doll,” he mumbles, leaning closer to kiss along your collarbone. His one hand is caressing the soft skin of your thigh, while he uses his other hand to keep him steady above you. “I'm gonna take off your panties now, and I want you to let your legs spread apart. You're beautiful and there is nothing to be ashamed of, got it, Omega?”

With a soft nod, you let your head fall backwards into the pillows but James just towers over you without doing anything. Not even your soft whimper or the bucking of your hips causes him to do nothing else but looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Alpha, please. I got it, but please, need you.”

He grins softly, pressing his lips against yours before he sits up and removes his other hand from your thigh. You want to complain when James is already grasping the hem of his shirt to take it off. He reveals his high defined chest muscles and his Pratt abs, smirking even wider when he sees the way your eyes roam over every little inch of his body.

“Y-You look pretty, James,” you mumble, causing him to laugh softly. You have never heard him laugh that sweet, and just the little moment causes you to fall slowly for the Alpha. It’s the moment he wears a mask in front of everyone because that sweet laugh right now was real — not the way he chuckles when he is around his friends or someone else. And maybe it’s something he only reserves for you.

“Not as pretty as you, doll,” he smirks, bringing his hands back to your thighs and moves them to your covered pussy. He then grips the thin fabric of them, ripping them apart. You gasp, your eyes widen and you want to complain but he shakes his head softly. “No complaining, omega. I will buy you new panties.”

You know better than to argue with your Alpha, so you let your head just fall backwards into the pillows again, sighing softly when you feel his soft touch moving slowly to your pussy. James immediately pushes one of his digits into your tight entrance, followed by another. Your walls are tightening around him, making it almost impossible for him to move his fingers inside of you.

“Alpha, you won’t fit,” you whine, already struggling to take his fingers. But luckily your Alpha knows better and when it doesn't fit he will make it fit. He pushes his fingers deeper into you, curling them before he pulls them slowly out of you. James always hits your sweet spot with his digits, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.

“We will make it fit, look how well you take my fingers. Doing so well for me, doll. Taking them like the good, pretty omega you are for your Alpha,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your clit, then sucking softly.

Your eyes widen, the pleasure immense and you aren't sure if you ever felt something like that before. But you’re almost sure you never felt so good before, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside of you, while he sucks at your clit, turning you into nothing but a whining and moaning mess underneath him.

Pussy clenching and throbbing, while he brings you closer to the edge. You feel the knot in your stomach growing, and before you can say anything to warn James he speeds his fingers inside of you up, his lips never leaving your clit while he enjoys your soft moans, the way your pussy squeezes him and especially the way you press your legs together but get stopped by his broad shoulders.

With a loud moan you come over his fingers, moaning loudly while he never stops moving his fingers, thrusting them in a steady yet fast pace into your tight pussy. James fucks you through your oragsm, his mouth dropping to your entrance, his tongue working into you next to his fingers.

"Alpha, too sensitive,” you whine but still pushing your hips forward to meet his tongue and movements of his fingers. He chuckles against your skin, continuing to eat you out for a moment longer before he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Then he sits up, his beard slightly glistening because of your arousal, and it makes him only hotter, especially when his tongue darts out to take everything of your cum that's still covering his pink, plump lips.

“Mhm, you taste delicious, could stay between your legs all day so I could have your sweet taste all day, and you moan, you sound so good when you moan for me like that.” With one movement your Alpha gets off the bed, he opens his belt and pushes his pants down, followed by his boxer briefs.

James rock hard cock springs free, his red time leaking with pre-cum and James isn't just long, he is also thick. A vein running along the underside of his thick shaft and you have the urge to slide a finger or your tongue along it. You want to taste him too, want to have all of his cum down your throat but even more you need him deep in your pussy.

“Like what you see, ‘mega?” He asks, walking closer to the bed again, in his hand he has a condom you didn't even realize he had in his pocket. James gets in between your legs again, sitting on his knees, his dick resting against his stomach. Your eyes on his length, while he opens the package of the condom and pulls it out, rolling it down his cock.

James looks at you with an intense stare, smirking when you wiggle lightly underneath him. He spreads your legs further apart, placing himself perfectly in between them before he grasps the base of his length and moves it over your clit and through your folds to your entrance.

You’re moaning loudly, arching your back to get more of him but he slides his cock up to your clit again. He loves the soft, desperate whines you make when he teases you. When you’re all needy and almost cock drunk but he doesn’t give you his dick just yet.

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, your hands looking for something to ground yourself which ends up being his arm and the bed sheets. You’re so in need of his cock, of him. You don’t mind that you sound like a desperate slut because right now, you only want him to fuck you already, make you feel so good.

“Love when you beg, sounding so sweet and so fucking desperate. Go on, beg for my cock, omega,” James growls, his chest rising and falling and his eyes widened, filled with lust while he looks at you. He wants you to beg for his cock, he needs it — even though it’s hard to resist you he wants to hear your soft whines and whimpers.

“Alpha, please. Please, need you so bad, need to feel you. Your cock, please,” you cry out when he slaps the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit.

With a chuckle he brings his cock to your entrance once again. The leaking tip pressing against your entrance and you suck in a deep breath when he pushes into you. You moan, your pussy is being stretched in a way it never was and you feel some tears falling down your cheeks when he pushes further into you.

Your Alpha looks the whole time into your eyes, his one hand reaching up to wipe the tears away. His lips trailing along your jaw before he reaches your lips and kisses you desperately but still soft. “Shh, it’s fine. I will make you feel so good once I’m inside of you completely.”

He pushes his cock slowly into you, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He would love to take away all the pain but the only thing he can do is fucking you slow and soft so he won’t hurt you more. You nod your head, fingers digging into his soft skin.

“Doin’ so well. Yeah, almost inside, ‘mega. You feel so good, such a good girl,” James praises, earning a soft smile between moans and whines. He eventually pushes completely into you, his balls resting against your ass.

The stretch hurts slightly but his hands stroking your sides and his cock twitching inside of you causing the pain to fade away and turn into pleasure. He kisses down your neck, waiting for you to adjust to his cock and giving him permission to move.

“I—I think you can move, Alpha,” you say quietly, blushing softly. He grins at you and moves his hips back, his thick length sliding almost out of you. When it’s only his tip that’s still inside your pussy he thrust forward once again.

James’ thick, veiny cock is moving in and out of you, causing a feeling in your stomach you never had before — at not as intense as it is now. The alpha groans against your neck, he tries his best to not just grasp your hips and fuck into your like a wild animal.

Your pussy is squeezing him so much, he feels like he is going to come in just a few seconds when your walls grip him as tightly as they do. Your alpha is already addicted to the feeling, loving your sweet sounds and the feelings of your fingers digging into his skin to ground yourself.

“Good girl, take my cock like the good omega you are,” he says, throwing his head back the moment your walls clench around his cock, sucking him deeper into you. “Look at you, being all greedy and desperate for my cock, huh?”

The smirk on his lips is adorable and wouldn’t you feel so embarrassed about the fact that you want him to rail you until the bed breaks you would have smiled back. But your thoughts of him slamming into you, running you wander through your mind and you can’t help but moan when you look at him.

“Please, move. Need you, need it so bad, please, Alpha,” you whine, eyes rolling back when he pulls out of you once again.

You don’t have to ask him twice. James pushes forward with more force this time, earning another moan. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix and your eyes widen. The Alpha feels better than a toy or your fingers could make you feel.

His thrusts speed up, he fucks you with such force that even the bed is starting to move and hits the wall with every movement forward. James’ fingers are interlaced with yours, pressing your hands down next to your head. While your fingers dig into the back of his hand, he digs his fingers into the bedsheets.

Your pussy is literally grappling his cock and holding him inside of you. The base of his cock swells with every thrust, every moan and every whimper. The moment he feels his knot growing more he pounds into you harder.

“Fuck, doing so good. Giving you all my cum, omega. Fuck, fuck—“ he groans, looking deep into your eyes. He doesn’t want to come before you do or at least with you, but he is so close and he can’t hold back anymore.

With a smooth movement he brings his hand down your front, reaching your clit and pressing against it before he smirks and rubs it. It’s all too much for you, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time he pushes into you and his talented fingers rubbing your clit bringing you over the edge.

“Please, come with me. Please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum. Please, Alpha,” you beg, coming all over his cock with a loud moan. Your pussy is squeezing James dick harder than before, holding him in place while he comes into you, his knot holding his cock buried deep inside of you while he still moves his dick as much as possible inside of you.

With a low groan he comes inside of you, his seeds shooting out and into the condom. He pants but smirks at you, admiring your sweaty skin, glistening but still looking so soft.

“Good girl, you were so good for me,” he mumbles, kissing your neck. You just lie there, your fingers running through his soft hair while he kisses your soft skin. When you both come down from your highs he slowly removes his cock to throw the condom away.

Back next to you he lies on the bed and pulls you on top of him, smirking when you squeak in surprise. He chuckles softly and earns a soft giggle from you too.

James' arms are wrapped around you, your head placed on his chest, while you listen to his heartbeat. His fingers draw small circles on your back while you both still calm down from your orgasm and the intense but good sex.

“Feelin’ better, ‘mega?” He asks, looking at you with his perfect steel-blue eyes. The wide smirk on his face and the slight blush on his cheeks causes a tingling in your stomach.

You nod, kissing his chest. Your eyes meet his and you get lost for a moment. James leans closer, his lips capturing yours and you sigh softly into the kiss. And he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning about your taste.

He smirks, leaning back and pulling you closer. Your scent is intoxicating and he just can’t get enough of it. But the feelings and thoughts he has when he is around you scare him — he never wanted to be closer with someone, and even though you’re his mate he is still unsure how to feel about that.

“Have you ever thought about being with an Alpha, being his?” He asks, turning to face you. Your chin is placed on his chest when you look at him, narrowing your eyebrows while you think about it.

Have you ever thought about being close to someone? Being marked, claimed by an omega which would mean you belong with him forever. You nod your head slightly and Bucky's eyes widen. “I’ve thought about being claimed by someone who isn’t my true mate.”

“Do you want it? To me claimed by another Alpha who isn’t your mate?” He asks, his eyes glistening with curiosity when those words slip over his lips.

“I would because you can be a dick. And you don’t want to be with someone more than a night. So I kind of regret that I lost my virginity to you — but you helped me with the pain of my heat so I’m grateful, though,” you say, earning a low growl from the Alpha.

No Omega has ever talked to him like that, calling him a dick. He has one — a huge, pretty cock — but being a dick? He just doesn’t want to be with an Omega just yet, right? This with you was also only because he wouldn’t like you to suffer with your heat but it was one time, wasn’t it?

“Have you ever thought about it? Claiming an Omega?” You ask, curious about his answer. But he only shrugs, smirking at you. You turn your head, getting some rest from the exhausting sex the two of you just had.

Bucky sighs softly, his fingers still sliding over your skin while he thinks about your question. He has never really thought about it, too young to think about claiming an omega. He wants to have fun with whoever he wants to have. But seeing you so peacefully sleeping in his chest, the way you moaned and looked when he fucked you and when you came — when you screamed his name — seeing you every time after school when he goes to his dorm, being cuddled up with his Omega?

The next day Bucky goes back to the way he was before the two of you had sex. A dick and flirting with every Omega he likes. He isn’t even looking at you, only avoiding you.

For a moment you thought he had changed, that the two of you could be more than just classmates but now he shows you again that he is just an Alpha who doesn’t manage to leave his dick in his pants.

You walk into the classroom, Bucky's standing next to the door with an Omega who almost drops on her knees to suck his cock in front of the whole class. “Like being called a slut, huh?”

The girl nods, and looks up at Bucky, earning a low chuckle when he turns around and makes his way to his seat. You’re lowering your head when he passes you, not wanting to see those beautiful blue eyes or those soft, plump and kissable lips of his.

The girl is giggling when she takes a seat next to her friend, talking to her while they both look every now and then at Bucky. You feel a harsh pain flowing through your body and this time it's not your heat. This time it’s to see your Alpha flirting with someone else and acting like he doesn’t even know you, like the two of you haven’t had sex.

“Good! Then we talked about the difference yesterday,” your teacher interrupts your thoughts. You don’t know what they talked about yesterday and your heart is aching so bad that you don’t even want to listen to it now.

You turn your face to the window, looking out, while you try to ignore every noise around you. Actually you would listen to the teacher, would write down some notes but with the heavy feeling in your chest you just want to go into your bed and cry. Cry about Bucky and being nothing but a toy for him. You should have known but he was so cute that there was the tiny thought he could be more than just a dick. Why does your mate has to be such a dick, he could be like other ones and be nicer but he has to fuck every omega he can reach and who is filling to let him fuck them.

“Y/N? You look really distracted today? Are you feeling oke or do you want to go out for a bit?” Your teacher asks but you only shake your head. You suddenly feel every pair of eyes on you and you just want to make yourself as small as possible to escape all those gazes while your cheeks heat up.

A low groan behind you causes everyone to look immediately away from you and back to the teacher who nods with a smile on his lips.

Bucky groans frustrated, not used to feelings like he has right now. Everyone looking at you like you could be their prey makes him go crazy. No one is allowed to look at you like that, right? But why is it bothering him? He doesn’t even feel something for you, he helped you out with your pain caused by your heat and now he can fuck whoever he wants. But there is that part in him — the Alpha — that tries to stop him from hurting you more, the pain in your chest mixed in your scent and he can smell it.

He can smell the changed scent, he feels guilty for hurting you like that. For causing so much pain in your chest but Bucky just can’t be with someone just yet. He wants to go to parties and hook up with whoever crosses his way during the party, he wants that, doesn’t he?

The whole lesson you’re quiet, not even looking at the paper in front of you. Blue eyes piercing in your back and Bucky’s jaw is clenched when he sees a classmate moving closer toward you. His hand rests next to yours and when he talks to you you look at him, smiling softly. Another low groan leaves his lips, how can he dare to get close to you — to Bucky’s omega..

“Want a drink after school?” The Alpha next to you asks and smirks at you. You shake your head, maybe you should just move on with another Alpha or just pay attention to get good marks but since the sex with Bucky you can’t push the feelings away. “Who hurt you, pretty girl?”

“No one, just not in a mood to get a drink,” you grumble, placing your hand on his arm. He nods, placing his hand on yours and you shiver slightly when his soft skin touches yours.

The loud sound of a chair crashing against a table and a fist punching hard on the surface of a table causes you all to turn around. Your eyes widen when you see Bucky standing there, fixing the Alpha who has his hand on yours, narrowing while he inhales deeply.

“Take your hands off of my Omega!” He growls, surrounding his table to get closer to the other Alpha who’s hand is still on yours.

“I’m not your Omega, Barnes,” you hiss, freeing your hand anyway and get up from the chair. Every pair of eyes is on the two of you. Not even the teacher interrupts you, while you step closer to Bucky and lift your hand to poke a finger against his broad chest. “Don't call me that! You haven’t claimed me and you have shown me damn well that you just want one fuck.”

He groans, grasping your hand and pulling you against his chest. You smell his beautiful scent and you just want to lean more into him, but he was hurting you and now he acts like you’re his omega, and no other Alpha could be with you.

“Don’t talk to me like that, ‘mega!” He demands, his grip tightens and you hiss. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightens it and pulls you even closer.

“You’re a dick, Barnes,” you growl, lifting your other hand to slap him across his face. His eyes widen and he suddenly lets go of you. You immediately turn around and take your stuff, pushing him to the side and walking out of the room.

Everyone is looking at Bucky, his cheek red and he is sure your handprint is visible. He looks at you while you walk out of the room he then gets back to his seat and lets himself fall down. The teacher clears his throat, getting the attention of the students and continues the lesson.

You’re rushing through the hallway, not sure where to go. The feelings inside of you boil, almost ready to burst out. You can still feel Bucky’s hand around your arm, his scent in your nose while you groan quietly.

When you finally find a little corner where no one is immediately seeing you you sit down, pulling your legs closer and wrap your arms around them. Then you place your head on your knees, looking through the floor — at least the part of it you can see.

Tears building in the corner of your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks and you sob quietly. Why is your mate such a dick? Fucking you, being all sweet and then being such a dick. You can’t even talk to other Alphas because he is jealous but he is flirting with Omegas like he would fuck them immediately.

The rest of the lesson the brown-haired Alpha is staring at the other Alpha. Still annoyed that he dared to touch Bucky’s omega. He really doesn't know what happens with his feelings and his thoughts but he knows that the Alpha in him has to take care of his Omega. And the thought of some other Alpha seeing you whimpering and moaning while they push their dicks into your tight cunt makes him go crazy.

When the lesson ends he immediately pushes his stuff into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and walks out of the room. He doesn’t walk much before a fist hits his face and his head is thrown to the side while someone is pressing him against the wall behind him. His back aches as well as his cheek and nose when he grasps the shirt of the person in front of him.

“You fucking idiot. Gonna punch you so hard that you can’t even remember your own name,” the Alpha in front of Bucky says. “Think you can play with her, huh? Gonna cut off your cock!”

Bucky’s hands are still fisting the shirt of Brock Rumlow while he tries to turn them both around so the other Alpha is pressed against the wall. “You don’t fucking know anything. She is my Omega so take your hands off of her!”

“And you treat your Omega like that? You’re a pathetic Alpha, Barnes,” Rumlow growls, freeing himself and walking away from Bucky.

The brown haired boy is panting, his eyes slightly widened when reality hits him once again. Rumlow wasn’t wrong, Bucky acts like an idiot but he just can’t handle the feelings he has for you — scared of being a shit Alpha for you, scared of being with someone.

He inhales deeply even though there are so many different smells but he can still smell you — intense and he can say you’re not feeling too good. Since he doesn’t want someone to listen to the two of you, he waits until the next lesson starts before he makes his way to you, knowing that you’re sitting in the corner, hiding yourself.

When you smell him your body tenses and your sobs stop for a moment. Hoping that he just walks past you but when his heavy footsteps stop just around the corner you shift further into the corner. Bucky bends down looking at you with his pretty ocean blue eyes and you whimper when he reaches his hand out to touch you.

“Come out there, ‘mega.” He says, softly but still demanding. You shake your head, ready to bite him when he comes further toward you but he doesn’t. He only groans frustrated, then he stands straight again and walks a few steps forward. “Come out there. NOW! Don’t like to repeat myself, Omega!”

The sudden change in his voice makes you whimper. Bucky sounds not as soft and patient anymore, his tone is rough and demanding. But you really don’t feel like you want to follow his orders, he isn’t you’re Alpha and he hurt you, so why should you be a good Omega for him now — especially when you’re not even his omega.

“Leave me alone, idiot!” You hiss. Your body tenses even more when a lower groan as you have ever heard before is leaving his lips. But you still don’t want to get out of the corner. You want to be alone or— “I would prefer any other Alpha instead of letting you touch me once again!”

“Shut the fuck up and come here! I’m your Alpha and you’re going to listen to me,” he says, trying to calm himself down. He actually just wants to talk nicely to you but your attitude and the knowing he hurt you causes impatient in him. He just wants me to be there for you, take care of you like an Alpha should do that for their Omega.

“Fuck off, Alpha. You’re an fucking idiot and I don’t wanna talk to you!” You almost shout. It’s not true, you want to talk to him, you want him to hold you, to kiss you, to love you — to make you his Omega.

“Doll, please. I’m sorry, can you please come out there. I just wanna talk with you,” he tries again, this time his voice so soft and caring that more tears fall down your cheeks. Why can’t Bucky always be like that? Sweet and lovingly.

“But stay away and we’re not going to talk in the hallway,” you say, grasping your bag and getting out of the corner. Bucky looks at you and a soft smile forms on his lips when he sees you but it immediately fades away when he sees your red eyes and the wet trails down your cheeks.

He just wants to hold you tight, wiping your tears away but he knows when he walks further to you without you allowing him you won’t talk to him. His heart is aching but he tries to push it to the side, waiting for you to walk into the direction you want to go to talk.

You turn around, walking toward the dorms and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy. When you stand in front of the door of your dorm you turn around. “Or do you want to talk in your dorm?”

Bucky shakes his head, he doesn’t mind where you’re going to talk as long as you let him explain why he acted so shitty. With a nod you open the door to your dorm and let him walk into it as well.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice cold and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly. A cold shiver running along his spine when you talk to him like that. You’re letting yourself fall down on your bed, moving to the headboard while he takes a seat on the other side of the bed.

“I love you, and I can’t stand the way those other Alphas look or touch you. That smile, the joy I saw in your eyes yesterday,” he mumbles, looking at his hands while he sighs deeply.

“Shut up and leave those words for one of your other bitches! You used me like a fucking toy,” you say, narrowing your eyebrows. “You can fuck any omega you want to fuck but don’t play with me!”

“I’m not playing with you—“ he tries to say but interrupts himself when you raise your eyebrow and turn your hand into fists, jaw clenching. “Omega! Calm down!”

Even though you don’t want it, the Omega in you immediately reacts to his order and a soft whimper leaves your lips. He hums when you pull your legs up and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on your knees and looking at Bucky, but avoiding his eyes.

“I would never play with you. But my feelings— I never had those feelings before and it scares me,” he admits, running his fingers through his soft hair. His eyes are looking for yours but you just don’t want to look into his eyes — don’t want to get lost in those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

“James, please. Can you keep all those words for someone you really mean it? I won’t stop you from fucking whoever you want. I will get my shit together and try to find someone who takes care of me during the heat,” you mumble. Tears suddenly build up in the corner of your eyes before they fall down your cheeks. Fuck! Why do you have to cry just yet? When he is there and tries to get closer to you — to play with you again?

Bucky sighs, he moves closer, ignoring that you told him to stay away from you. His hand captures your chin and he moves your head until you have to face him. He is so close, his breath hitting your lips and you want to lean into his touch, you want to feel those pink lips on yours. You want to feel the warmth of him, his sweet touches but you don’t want him to use you as a toy.

“I know you think I played with you but I didn’t. I just never thought I could feel the way I feel for you now. The only thing I did was fucking but then there was you. You had your heat and the Alpha in me — the one that belongs to you — wanted nothing more to comfort you, so I did. I took care of you but then there were suddenly so many feelings, so much I actually always pushed to the side,” he says, inhaling deeply. He didn’t know he could say that much about his feelings and still hasn’t said nothing at all.

“It was nice that you—“ you start to say but he interrupts you with a low groan. One that causes your pussy to clench and your feelings to go even crazier. Bucky smirks, smelling your arousal but as fast as his smirk appears it disappears, it’s not the right moment to just smirk at the person he loves but hurt so much.

“I wasn’t finished yet, ‘mega.” His voice is rough and kind of demanding that you stay quiet until he finishes talking. But at the same time it sounds so soft like he doesn’t want to scare you. “College was for me a good place to still my needs but I love you. I really do and for the first time since college I don’t want to fuck someone. And yes, the omega I talked to earlier wanted me, but even though I can be good in dirty talk with anyone, I wouldn't have fucked her. I just wanted to forget those feelings but I just want to comfort you — comfort my Omega. You belong to me, even though I never showed you before. But please let me do it now.”

Bucky didn’t expect you to shake your head but when you do his eyes suddenly darken and he growls. He tightens his grip around your chin, causing you to whimper quietly. He is so dominant that you just want to give into him but what he doesn’t know you haven’t shook your head because you meant no, you just wanted him to let go of your chin so you could talk properly — without muffled sounds or squeezed cheeks.

When you shove Bucky by his broad chest away you almost moan. His scent is intoxicating and his broad chest, high defined muscles underneath the fabric of his shirts lets the Omega in you show more of itself than you actually want it right now. He looks at you with a confused gaze but lets go of your chin.

“Let me talk before you growl at me, boy!” You say, earning a warning look from him which causes you to swallow harshly. “Sorry, Alpha. If you wanna prove that you can be different show me but that doesn’t mean I will be doing what you tell me! I’m not one of these omegas you fucked and then thanked you.”

“You will thank me for it too,” he says, darkly with a smirk on his face. When you just raise your eyebrow he immediately nods and moves closer toward you. “Sorry, ‘mega.”

Your eyes widen and you blink, unsure if you heard him right. Did he just apologize? James Bucky Barnes apologized by an Omega? His hands slide to your back and he caresses your skin softly but your muscles tensing and Bucky sighs. His blue eyes are piercing in yours and you feel a shiver along your spine when his hand doesn’t stop moving up and down your sides and back.

“Want it to make up to you, show you that you mean more to me than all those other girls,” he says, his hands letting go of you but find their place a moment later on your cheeks. He pulls you closer and just before your lips meet he waits for you to break the distance. His tongue slips across his lips, causing them to glisten slightly. “So shy, ‘mega, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s teasing makes you giggle softly. You didn't want to give in to him just yet but his scent, his touches and the way he looks at you are just too adorable to push him away. “Not shy, James!”

He groans about the name, wanting you to address him properly or at least with his nickname. “Doll,” he warns, raising an eyebrow and causing you to giggle even more. “Don’t tease me just yet.”

“You said you wanna make it up to me, so it’s part of it, James,” you say, lifting one of your hands to poke two of your fingers into his broad chest. He groans frustrated, nodding his head and lowering it just a moment later for you to kiss him. You chuckle, fingers sliding to his neck and you scratch softly over his soft skin, causing him to shiver underneath your touch.

“Can I kiss you now, ‘mega?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. Bucky captures your cheeks with his hands, smiling softly. You suddenly smirk mischievous, a thought just plopped up in your mind and a way he could make things a bit up to you, when he does that.

“Choke me, Alpha,” you mumble, exactly knowing what kind of effect your words have on him. A low growl leaves his lips and he raises an eyebrow at you, then he smirks.

“You think you can demand things, omega?” His voice is low and sounds rougher as usual, causing you to shiver lightly. You nod your head though, the smirk never leaving your lips while your Alpha shakes his head in amusement. One of his hands sliding to your neck, his fingers slowly curling around it and digging softly into your sensitive skin.

“Harder, or are you just a little sub?” You tease, causing him to groan once more. His grip tightens and he pushes you back until you hit the headboard of the bed, swallowing harshly.

“That's what you like? Choking with my hand around your throat, why not choking by my cock in your pretty mouth?” He asks, chuckling softly when you whimper and press your tight together. “Yeah, that's what you like, having your Alphas cock deep down your throat.”

“B—But as much as I love it, I want you to make things up to me first. And we could start with a date,” you say, trying to push the thoughts you have away. Deep down you hope that the two of you end up in bed, he is on top of you, very soon because his cock feels just too good.

“Oke, how about we make a movie night, I bring all the snacks? And maybe I will claim you,” your Alpha says, smirking at you, still only inches away while he waits until you allow him to kiss you. He never lets an Omega decide that much but he has a crush on you for so long and the night with you, the Alpha in him — Bucky needs you, he loves you and he doesn't want to mess things up once again.

You nod, leaning even closer. Bucky's tongue pokes out, wetting his lips before he tilts his head further to the side. His eyes light up and the smile across his lips widens when you nod your head softly. Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, pressing his soft, plump once against yours. His one hand is still tightly wrapped around your throat, while the other slides down to your waist. You run your fingers through his soft hair, making him sigh softly about your soft touches.

He is addicted to you, and he will prove that he can be the one you deserve, who loves you more than everything. He wants you to show you that he loves you, showing you that his words, his feelings are real — that he really means when he confessed his feelings, knowing that you feel the exact same way he does.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo

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marigoldenblooms · 6 months

Text

Drunken Confessions - Drabble

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Agent!Reader

Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))

Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~

It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.

“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk.

“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“

“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??”

“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“

“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

------------------------------------------

“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”

Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”

“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?”

“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?”

Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.

~~~

#minors dni #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow x female reader #drabble #my fic #bearrrwrites

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 3 months

Text

Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

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“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen.

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

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You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

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“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fic #cassian #cassian x reader fic #cassian angst #reader insert #cassian x reader #cassian x you #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acourtofwhatthefuck #acotar angst #angst

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mayghosts · 3 months

Note

kate martin x photographer!reader….

Kate Martin: Kate x photographer!reader Headcannons

Summary: Request :)

Warnings: little NSFT on the bottom, all fluff other than that!!

AN: Guys I am actually writing this in the bathroom at 1 AM because we have no wifi/cell service in my bedroom so its not proof read well

FRIEND ERA:

♠︎ You guys initially met during a seminar you both shared, she sat next to you while you were editing photos and was very distracted by your screen the whole class

♦︎ After that she just kept sitting next to you until she built up the confidence to ask about you work

“Hi, sorry if this is weird but you are such a good photographer! I have seen your photos during class and stuff… is it your job?” You smiled at her praise, you had seen her looking at your screen for the past few classes so you were happy she finally said something. “Thanks!! I'm not, but I hope one day I can be!”

♣︎ It took her about a year to convince you to start doing photos for the basketball team because you didn’t have a lot of confidence in your work at first and you didn't know a ton about sports photography

♥︎ Always your biggest hype women and would always insist on accompanying you to shoots or posing you you

♠︎ During practices she would always try to show off so you would take more photos of her

“Y/N! Wait I'm gonna do something cool, get a photo of this” “Did you get it?” “Does it look cool?” *you can hear Gabbie and Cait making fun of her in the background*

♦︎ Whenever she had a water break she would be peering over your shoulder trying to look at the photos you took

♣︎ She loves watching you edit, download and share photos. She would lie on your bed for hours just silently watching and adding little comments here and there

♥︎Always makes fun of you for taking a lot of photos of her (you can't help it, she's just very pretty)

“Jeez y/n how many did you take?” you scrolled down through the file you had just downloaded, “Uhh I guess a lot more than I thought…”

DATING ERA:

♣︎ Kates Instagram is never low when it comes to photos due to the huge amounts you take of her

♥︎ When she gets drafted to the Aces, you move in with her and join the photography crew there

♠︎ Her praise increases tenfold and she is so supportive of your career and you work

You groaned letting your head fall in your hands, for some reason none of the photos looked right. Sliding off the bed Kate came up behind you to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “Whats wrong baby?” sighing you pulled you head up, wresting it back against Kates shoulder. “They all look weird! I haven't taken any good photos for a while, I’m scared their gonna drop me from the crew.” Spinning you around in your chair Kate looked at you in your eyes, “Baby you are an amazing photographer, and they would be beyond stupid to let you go. I know you have something good in there because I loved everything I saw during practice. Why don't we just go eat and then we can look at it again with a fresh set of eyes, okay?” You sighed and nodded, standing up and pulling Kate into a hug.

♦︎ Constantly buying you more equipment and cameras. Any tool or piece of equipment you mention bring interested in… its on your desk next week

♣︎ She insisted that you teach her how to take photos, and for her birthday you bought her a cute little camera

“Hey Katie baby, can I see the photos you took?” She smilled excitedly at you as she handed you her camera. As you flipped through, you began to notice a common theme in all of these photos. “Baby, I love these but did you take any photos without me in them?” (she didn't)

♠︎ always showing off your photos and plugging your website like crazy to anyone she meets

♥︎ The hard launch is very photo perfect- but also super cute and natural

♦︎You always wear her jersey when you take photos during games and your photos are still very Kate heavy

NSFT

♥︎ Nudes go crazy.

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jishyucks · 1 month

Text

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

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stylesispunk · 3 months

Text

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

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