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#and she says it with such gentleness too but so strong
sansaorgana · 1 day
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Oh my God, would you write a little something about their little daughter/son or (twins?) walking in on reader and Buck? Pretty please? 😅🫠
hi, sugar! 🍬 thank you for your request, it's such a cute idea. 🥺 I love imagining Buck as a husband and a father and all these domestic things. 🏡
I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
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You hadn’t been intimate with your husband for a long while now. Taking care of energetic twin preschoolers was taking up most of your time and even when you happened to have free time at the end of the day, you were often too tired to start anything. Which was a misfortune because you wanted at least one more child with Buck. You dreaded the day your son and daughter would go to school – you wanted to be busy with another little baby in the meantime.
You gave it a try tonight because after a long day spent in the park, running around the playground, your twins had fallen asleep very quickly. So, there you were, laying under your husband’s warm and strong body, with your thighs around his waist pushing him deeper and deeper as your back arched and his full lips were muffling your soft moans with a kiss. Your hands were squeezing his biceps as his were cupping your face; the rhythm of his hips was steady but not too fast and not too rough. Buck Cleven was not the type to fuck. He was making love to you.
After a few weeks of no intimacy at all, you could feel your release coming very fast and you only hoped you’d have more than one round on that night. So lost in pleasure and chasing the high, enamoured by your husband’s flushed cheeks, a single golden hair strand falling down on his forehead and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you lovingly whenever he’d break the passionate kiss to catch a breath… you simply didn’t hear the noise in the corridor.
“Mummy, daddy…!” Your little girl’s whine interrupted you as she pushed the door open without knocking. Her twin brother followed and you froze with widened eyes as you panicked.
But Buck never panicked. That man was always calm and always knew what to do, it was impressive. No matter what the situation was, his calmness was working miracles to make you feel safe and taken care of. He made sure that you were both covered with the blanket and turned around to look at your children.
“Minnie, I’ve been telling you to always knock,” Buck scolded her gently. Her lower lip trembled as she squeezed tighter the teddy bear she was holding.
“But daddy, Bobby is mean to me! He says there is a monster under my bed…” She was on the verge of tears.
“I really saw him!” Bobby denied the accusations. “I wasn’t trying to scare her! There is a monster under her bed.”
“Funny!” Minnie faced him. “Why under mine and not yours then?”
You took a deep breath in and sighed. They were only children and it was difficult to be angry at them for this but you weren’t pleased either.
“And what are you doing?” Bobby squinted his eyes at his parents.
“We… We are talking,” Buck answered awkwardly, his cheeks flushing even more. However, your little boy didn’t seem to be convinced. “And cuddling,” Buck added quickly so the answer was more believable.
“Why are you naked?” Minnie asked and you furrowed your brows at her.
“How do you know?” You asked and she pointed at your nightgown on the floor. “Well, it’s hot here,” you quickly made up an excuse and rubbed your sweaty forehead. “Go back to sleep, darlings, there are no monsters under any bed in this house. Monsters are too scared of daddy,” you tried to make them go away as quickly as possible.
“Then daddy should inspect,” Bobby crossed his hands.
You looked up at Buck’s face and he sighed with a gentle smile. He was a big softie for his children and that was one of the reasons why you loved him so much. He moved away delicately, making sure you were still both covered with a blanket.
“Can you hand me that, love?” You pointed at your nightgown and your daughter picked it up to give it to you. You put it on over your head and let it fall down, allowing Buck to take more of the blanket for himself. He left the bed with it around his waist as if it was a towel and he picked up his own underwear from the carpet.
“I’ll go and inspect in a moment, “ he winked at Bobby and went to the bathroom.
When he left the bed with the blanket, you spotted your panties scattered somewhere down the mattress. You quickly grabbed them before the kids could notice and you turned your back on them on the edge of the bed to put them back on.
When you were completely dressed up again, you spotted that Minnie was already in the middle of your bed, laying her head on your pillow and cuddling her teddy bear.
“What are you doing, Minnie?” You asked her and caressed her hair.
“I want to sleep here tonight,” she gave you puppy eyes.
“But daddy will go there and show you that there are no monsters,” you assured her.
Gale left the bathroom at that very moment, already in his pyjamas. He carefully put the blanket over you and Minnie as he leaned in to kiss her forehead.
“You coming with me, young man?” He asked Bobby and the boy nodded, feeling important as he followed his father out of the bedroom.
Minnie moved closer to you and put her tiny arms around your waist. You sighed and kissed the top of her head with a smile. You already knew there would be no way you’d go back to your lovemaking tonight. Minnie was starting to doze off in your arms and you watched her sweet angel face lovingly. 
Buck and Bobby came back to your bedroom. Your husband had a playful smile on his lips and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. He was so adorable, you were so happy to be his wife.
“There are no monsters under the bed,” Gale ruffled his son’s hair as he stated. Then he raised an eyebrow at half-asleep Minnie.
“I guess she stays here tonight,” you whispered.
“Me too, then!” Bobby jumped inside the bed and laid beside his sister.
Minnie turned around and clinged to him adorably. Buck joined you all in bed and adjusted the blanket over you.
“You okay, baby?” He asked as he caressed your cheek.
“Yeah,” you nodded. The heat was long gone now, you were mostly sleepy. “And you, sweetheart?”
“Perfectly fine,” Buck assured you. He turned off the light on the bedside table and put his arm around his wife and babies, curled up together between their parents as they fell asleep; feeling safe and loved. Like you always wanted them to feel. It was the most important thing in the world for you.
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When you woke up, the bed was already empty. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the clock. It was nine already and you wondered how it was possible that you had been allowed to sleep for so long and no one had been trying to wake you up to prepare breakfast. The mystery was solved soon enough when Buck entered the bedroom quietly. He was still wearing pyjamas as well.
“Oh, you’re awake now,” he pointed out as he got under the blanket to greet you with a kiss. “You were sleeping so peacefully. I made them breakfast and now they’re watching the kids’ program on TV. That gives us about half an hour,” he pointed out in a whisper as he smirked.
“You’re so needy, Major Cleven,” you giggled and cupped his face.
“I’m starving, Mrs. Cleven,” he admitted before peppering your face with tiny sweet kisses. Once he was done, he focused on your exposed neck as his hips lowered down and you felt his erection between your legs already.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, you lifted yourself up and joined your lips together in a heated kiss as you got rid of each other’s clothes. You knew that you had no time to waste if you wanted to finally get the job done.
When you were both naked, hands wandering all around each other’s bodies while kissing and shushing each other, Gale pushed you down softly and positioned himself above you with his elbows on both sides of your head as you raised your thighs to put them around his waist and impatiently guide him inside you. He pressed his forehead to yours with a hiss at the feeling of your warm, wet and pulsating pussy. 
Your back arched as you threw your head back, exposing your neck even further for your husband’s sweet and needy kisses as his hips thrusted into you firmly, hitting all the right spots with military precision.
Just like on the night before, it didn’t take long for you to feel the reaching peak overtaking you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you gasped and dug your fingernails in his shoulders. Buck grunted softly and picked up his pace.
You came with a soft moan and he joined your lips together quickly to muffle the sounds leaving your mouth. He needed a few more chaotic thrusts before spilling himself inside of you as his eyes shut close and his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.
“God, finally,” you sighed with a chuckle and he smirked. You raised your hands to caress the scars on his cheeks gently.
“You better find them a nanny for the weekend,” he rubbed your nose with his, “because I don’t want you out of this bed for hours, Mrs. Cleven.”
You giggled like a schoolgirl at his words.
“Sir, yes, sir,” you nodded.
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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miinatozakiii · 3 days
Text
i fall in love too fast
kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader (remastered) ; part two; fluff
summary: your niece needs to stop watching so many romance movies because what the hell she's five and sana... well sana thinks she's crushing on someone's mother.
wc: 3.9k
warnings: mentions of food ; not proofreaddd
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a few customers held you up, you were supposed to be in your car earlier, supposed to be at hana’s school early – but of course, someone had to order six drinks during a rush, keeping you at work for a few more minutes than you’d like. 
once you make it to the car, you rush to startthe engine and get out your parking spot. tapping your finger on the steering wheel as you drive, you glance at the car's screen. the time reads '3:11 pm,' which means hana will be out in about four minutes. you make a guess that you'll arrive in a few minutes late. the worry that hana might be confused about where you are runs through your mind, but you convince yourself not to fret. after all, she's strong, and you know it – she’s your niece after all. 
somehow you manage to make it to the entrance just before hana is supposed to be out. fiddling with the collar of your white button-up shirt that you still have on from work, you anxiously await for when the bell will ring, anticipating the kids to start spilling out of the entrance doors to reunite with their families – eagerly waiting to see hana again.
you check your watch, reading the 3:15 pm, and seconds later – the bell rings.
it was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. you scanned the area for a bit, thankful that your height allowed you to see over some of the parents' heads. finally, you spot your little niece standing with a group of kids, holding each other by the little hook-like fabric on top of their bags to stay connected.
amidst the sea of parents and children, your eyes also locked onto sana, effortlessly standing out even in the crowd of chaos. her gentle hand held that of a child at the front of the group, a caring smile gracing her features.
you made your way over to where hana stood, her eager eyes scanning the crowd until they finally landed on you. without hesitation, she dashed towards you, her arms outstretched in anticipation of the hug she knew was coming. for a five-year-old, her determination was astonishing, and the way she almost knocked you off balance was comparable to a linebacker (well, close enough. maybe a linebacker on the youth team). as she crashed into you with surprising force, you couldn't help but marvel at her energy, laughing, and wonder if she should consider joining a football team someday. yeah, definitely her dad’s genes.
"y/n!" her grin widened as she approached, and you quickly knelt down to her level, wrapping her in a warm hug. "i missed you, y/n!"
“hey, hi,” you feel her squeezing you tighter as you hug her, kissing the side of her head as you do. “i missed you too!” you greet happily, voice muffled a bit. pulling away, you brush some of her hair out of her face, hair looking a little more ruffled than this morning. “seem’s like someone had a fun day at school.”
“so much fun! today ms. minatozaki let us paint and! and! she gave me more stickers for being good! they're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile. “and then we had recess and i played a lot and ran a lot and– oh! ms. minatozaki said i was good today!”
you laugh. “is that so?”
“yes! does this mean we can go to the cafe? please? i was good i promise.” hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve. 
huming as you think to yourself, you her teacher in the corner of your eye. “hmm, we’ll have to ask ms. minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your niece's teacher again.
you steal a glance at sana, who is smiling and waving to a set of parents, the dad carrying their child on his shoulders. her eyes sparkle with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks gradually tinting a shade of pink. unaware of her reaction, you remain lost in admiration as you stare.
sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to her.
"hana, hello there, sweetie," sana greets your niece warmly. then, her gaze shifts to you, her smile widening even further. "it's wonderful to see you again, y/n," she adds, her words sending a warm flutter through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.
she still looks as beautiful as she did in the morning, maybe even prettier. that voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy; her face lights up the same way.
"it's wonderful to see you too," 
without thinking, you straighten your shirt and adjust your pleated pants to appear more presentable. a smile graces both your lips and sana's. a brief silence ensues as you lock eyes with each other, and you feel a warmth rising in your ears, gradually spreading to your cheeks like a small fire.
trying to clear the tension, you clear your throat and tug at your collar, then respond, “how was hana today?” 
hana looks up at her teacher with hopeful, puppy eyes, silently pleading for a positive response. sana chuckles softly to herself, amused by hana's adorable expression.
“she was great today, and really helpful too,” sana assures, earning a sigh of relief from hana.
“is that so?” you question – sana hums in response.
“she helped me put the paintbrushes back, as well as the markers. she’s a sweet girl, big help.” sana explains.
hana tugs at your hand, “i told you! i told you i was good! so can we go to the cafe? please?” 
chuckling again, you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.
“i guess we should get going then…” you begin, your gaze tearing away from sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you. “why don’t you say bye to your teacher, hana?” 
hana nods and you watch as sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, placing a hand on her head before sliding it down to the girls cheek. hana puts her smaller hand on sana’s before she hugs her, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, i wish that were me. 
sana parts from hana, standing back up and fixing loose hair that falls over her face. you steal another glance at the young teacher before hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away. 
the last look you and sana share has this weird sense  of longing, there’s an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, to maybe get a few extra minutes to, well, maybe just stare at each other’s faces until someone decides to say something.
 but then, letting go, you finally wave to her with a smile, and she shoots you and your niece a toothy grin “goodbye.” 
-
"alright, time to head home," you announce, grabbing hana's tiny school bag and placing it in the front seat. after securing her in the car seat, you close the door and settle into the driver's seat. 
with a turn of the key, the engine roars to life, but before you can even back up, hana beams, “buckle up!”
“of course, i wouldn’t forget the most important step.” 
a jazz favorite from months ago begins to play after you hit shuffle on one of the playlists you made with your niece. adjusting the volume to create a soft background melody, you listen along as hana starts to hum along.
you pull into your regular spot by the side of the cafe and turn off the engine. grabbing hana's bag from the passenger seat, you step out of the car and hold the door to the backseats open for her to hop out. her eyes light up at the sight of the cafe's exterior, and she wastes no time in darting towards the entrance. 
“hana wait! be careful!” you call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys to lock your car before running after the excited five-year-old.
entering the cafe, you're greeted by the familiar and inviting atmosphere. the air carries the aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the rich scent of espresso shots being pulled. the cozy ambiance of the cafe envelops you both, lifting both your spirits.
thankfully, it’s not too busy at the moment. you spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their drinks – looks like a couple of lattes and americanos. the dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above, occupied by a few high school students laughing. they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake, a little candle is at the side – probably for someone's birthday.
you scan the area, shifting your look over to where the familiar baker and barista are. the baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave happily.
“ah, y/n! you’re back, did you miss me that much?” dahyun jokes, “oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” she adds, redirecting her gaze to meet hana. hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter.
“ms. dahyun! today was my first day of school! my teacher says i was great!” hana boasts, and dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit.
“wow, i’m impressed. hmm… maybe i should give you the special treat i prepared then.”
“please please please please please please-”
“alright, alright. a special treat for my favorite customer coming up! my favorite new student.” dahyun says cheerfully. the shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift hana onto the chair near the counter.
you make your way behind the counter as well, right over to where the taller barista works. he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot, furrowing his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter.
“chaemin,”
he jumps a little and you laugh teasingly.
“my god! don’t do that!”
“oops.” you shrug. “can i steam some milk real quick? i need to make something for my niece.”
“you’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” chaemin asks, visibly concerned. he turns his body to you fully, raises his brows, and looks down at you in disbelief.
“of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. i’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”
“i see, okay. good.” he says before bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds. “by the way, where’s johnny? i thought he would be the one taking hana to school – or picking her up – you know, since he's her dad and all.”
“he wanted to, but he had this last-minute business trip. the way he complained in person and over the phone was… rough – but he’ll be back in two days.”
“i see.”
you and chaemin continue to engage in some small talk about whether it was busy or anything while you were gone for those few minutes while you make the hot chocolate.
dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant with a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate syrup on top. 
 dahyun pushes the plate toward the girl. “i made it just for you, i even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much.”
“ms. dahyun you’re the best! it looks really yummy! thank you thank you thank you!” she says excitedly, then dahyun pats her shoulder.
“anything for the young scholar.”
“you never make me anything like that.” you mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate.
“you’re not a scholar, y/n. you lack a lot up there actually.” she jokes, poking you right in the forehead.
“ouch.” you respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the heart design you made with the steamed milk. hana smiles, looking at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in–
“phone eats first.” you halt her actions, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat. she groans in response before dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up. 
you sit beside hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, texting your brother and mom.
“these are so good, thank you aunt y/n,” hana says with a mouth full of the croissant.
“you should thank dahyun for that, but i’m glad you like them. also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” you scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano chaemin had made you. hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.
hana gulps down the bite she had just chewed up, then mumbles, “aunt y/n, can i ask you something?”
you raise a brow. “what is it?”
“do you… do you like my teacher?”
“oh, of course. she’s sweet and takes good care of you, i’m fond of her. she seems great.” you answer before taking another sip of your coffee.
“no, do you like like her? like in the movies? the lovey dovey ones where they kiss–” 
“w-what? why- where did this come from?” you question, sitting straight up. hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee. chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you.
“you like your niece's teacher?” he says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. you look at your co-worker and then back to your niece, waving your hand to shut down these bold (but pretty reasonable) allegations.
“no, no – it’s not like that,” you start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed. chaemin and the little girl don’t seem to be fooled. “she’s just nice, we’re just friendly. she’s your teacher, of course i’m going to be friendly with her.”
“ok, then why did you look at her like that? you looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”
“oh? what is this i’m hearing?” dahyun interjects, which earns her a glare from you before you look back at your niece.
“i- no, it’s not like that! we just met hana, don’t be ridiculous.” you say defensively, and then hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.
“your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”
“what movies are you watching? you’re like, five! shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? like something with mermaids or superheroes or something?” you groan, growing more defensive as dahyun and chaemin team up with hana to poke at you.
you roll your eyes at them, but the thought of sana tugs at your heartstrings.
you don't buy into the idea of love at first sight; it seems too simplistic, too much like something out of a disney movie. however, you can't deny the impact the woman who will be teaching your daughter every day has had on you. she’s shot an arrow through your heart just like cupid.
she’s undeniably beautiful, but it's more than just that. you find yourself thinking about her infectious smile, her contagious smile, and the way her nose scrunches up when she does both. the memory of her holding your hand when you greeted her lingers in your mind, even as you're teased and poked fun at by those around you. god, you’ve just met her.
you won’t admit it outloud, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide that the more you saw her.
“look, i just think she’s a nice person okay,” you shrug, and then you begin (or at least try) to change the topic. “anyways… how was your first day of school? what else did you do?”
dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by returning to what she was doing. she shoots chaemin a cheeky look, which you ignore, choosing instead to focus all your attention on hana.
“it was great! you were right y/n, i made a friend! her name is jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s an inch of space in between. “also,” hana begins, “ms. minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. she smiled and laughed a lot, she smiles like a princess. she kind of looks like one." hana adds, and you certainly agree with that statement. hana thinks to herself a bit, then adds her final remark, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! i like her a lot.”
you grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for chaemin to take.
 “i’m really glad you made a friend, i told you my genes were passed on to you!” you mess with her hair. “and i’m glad you like ms. minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”
“and pretty teachers too, right?” she teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more.
“alright smarty pants, finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” you sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before walking behind the counter to wash hana’s dish. 
-
“how was work?” jihyo asks.
she backs her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. sana has never been one to drive herself, always relying on the bus or getting a ride from a friend. however, this year she's in luck, since she'll likely be getting regular rides home from both her best friend and the mother of one of her students – one of the best drivers of the century.
sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat. “it was really good, the students are all great. your daughter did well too.”
jihyo smiles upon hearing this. “i’m glad jiyeong was good,” then she looks at her daughter through the mirror. “jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?” 
“good mom! i had lots of fun and ms. minatozaki is really nice! i made a new friend too.” the little girl in the backseat responds. “her name is hana, she’s cool and nice and funny and i like her a lot. we promised to be best friends this year!” 
sana tenses up at the mention of hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother–you. sana starts to zone out whilst jihyo talks with her daughter, and she really just thinks about you. she replays the memory of shaking your hand–big, soft, nice to hold, the small peak of ink under your wrist, the bracelets, and wow she is a mess from just the interaction–and about your cheery grin, as well as your caring nature. the look you had given her this morning replays in her head, the small dimple you had, how perfect your teeth were, and the sparkle of your eyes as you looked at sana.
she daydreams of you the whole way back to her place, pushing aside the fact that you’re a mother, probably not single considering how charming and cute you are.
her heart sinks a little at the thought of that, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? other fish in the sea? 
(but none that were as cute as you.)
"alright, we're here. say bye to your teacher jiyeong." jihyo insists, adjusting the gear stick so the car is parked in front of the apartment complex. sana smiles at jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. she waves at jihyo and her daughter through the window.
“thank you ms. minatozaki! see you tomorrow!”
“bye jiyeong, i hope you have a good night. you too, jihyo, thank you again.”
“it’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night sha.”
jihyo waves once more before rolling the passenger seat window up and driving away. sana clutches her work back and starts to walk towards her apartment.
the young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door. with a sigh, she kicks off her shoes, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. as she moves into the kitchen, she finds herself drawn to the familiar routine of making a cup of tea. it's a comforting ritual, one that helps her unwind and transition from the demands of her day to the peace of her home. kids are amazing, wonderful, and adorable–but they’re also draining, very draining.
she leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup in her hand.
the thought of you reaches back, invading her mind, her. 
you’re cute, you’re effortlessly cute with everything you do. sana thinks of the first glance, remembering how bells started to ring and imaginary petals started to fall after she made eye contact and– god she needs to stop watching those stupid dramas jihyo keeps reccomending her because they’re starting to turn her into some hopeless romantic. this can’t be, it’s only been one day, hell, not even an hour of being in the same room of you.
sana feels her cheeks warming up, cursing herself mentally. 
you’re a mother, whether that be biologically or not, you’re a mother. it would (most likely–well, very_ unprofessional to pursue someones mother, especially if you have a husband or anything like that. she can’t pine over someone who’s taken, not again, she’s learned from her junior in high school already, she can’t possibly live through that again.
sana sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “i really have to talk to jihyo about this.” 
taking out her phone, she finds jihyo’s contact and pauses, letting out another small sigh. the thought of having to navigate through the year while constantly encountering your pretty face and charming personality fills her with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. there's a part of her that can't help but look forward to the interactions and moments shared even if you’re taken. 
(it’s not like she can’t control how she feels, so if she’s able to at least hide it–then that should be fine.
right?)
she clicks on the little phone icon, and after a few rings, it's answered by jihyo. the sound of her voice comes through the line, accompanied by the faint background noise of what seems like the opening of a door.
"sana? hello? what is it? everything okay?” 
"jihyo."
jihyo blinks, letting her daughter into the house before answering in a slightly concerned tone, "yes?"
“on a scale of one 1-10–and be honest–how wrong is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”
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yuuuhiii · 2 days
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can i get a jjk matchup for a reader who always tends to put herself down in order to make others look better; she does it out of the kindness of her heart, but everyone’s got a sneaking suspicion that she genuinely thinks of herself as less. even so, she’s usually the one to bring life to a party, and is often described a ball of sunshine :3 TYSM
i match you with SUGURU GETO ᥫ᭡
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You had a habit.
A habit that Suguru never liked.
When he wasn’t goofing off with Satoru he’d be reserved and in his head.
Or his favorite, admiring you.
He’d always watch from afar as you’d converse with Shoko or Nanami, a small smile on his face. It’s not like he never talked to you, he did, he made an effort too. He didn’t really have to because you were a bright person. Always so positive and caring.
Suguru found everything about you endearing. Yet he hated how you viewed yourself. You’d talk so highly about your comrades, however when it came to yourself you never had good things to say. Always saying you needed to improve in this or were terrible at that.
He wished you could see yourself how he saw you. You were truly perfect to him and he’d do anything to protect you.
Suguru read you like an open book. He probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You were like Satoru, in a way at least.
You weren’t obnoxious and loud. You were kind and thoughtful. A smile that lit up his world and any room you were in. But he could see through it, the act you’d put up to disguise the ugly thoughts you had of yourself.
It pained him to see how sometimes you’d be laughing your heart out with Shoko, just to turn around and look almost empty.
Night creeps around and you were practically third wheeling with Suguru and Satoru. He was showing off, as usual. Proving how much cooler he was than Suguru.
“That’s amazing, you’re really strong Gojo.” He flicks his white hair and Suguru rolls his eyes.
“Don’t feed his ego. He doesn’t need it.” You gaze at him and Satoru laughs.
“You jealous Suguru?” Suguru would pout and turn away.
“I could teach you how to do it, you know, personal lessons.” Satoru gazes at you with playfulness, a small grin on his lips.
“Oh no! It’s fine, I wouldn’t be able to do that, I’m not strong.” You laugh but now Suguru is pouting for another reason.
“Well obviously, no one’s as strong as me.” He laughs again and you laugh along with him. However Suguru is staring straight at you, his brows furrowed. Satoru announces he’s gonna shower, trudging down the hallway.
“Why do you do that.” You turn to him and he’s upset, something you rarely see, at least towards you.
“Do what?” You softly smile and he almost caves.
“You’re always putting yourself down, like you’re lesser than us or something.” Your eyes widen just a bit, your hands fiddling with your shirt.
“No I don’t.” You laugh awkwardly.
“You do.” He says more sternly and you look ashamed.
“You’re a beautiful girl, inside and out, I wish you’d see that.” He says, a small blush on his face. You’re blushing as well, just the both of you sitting on the couch in the dormitory.
“I like you.” He mumbles and you turn to him.
He’s blushing even more and you feel yourself heat up. Then he turns to you with such gentleness in his eyes you’re captivated.
“I’d like to show you or prove it to you. If you’ll let me.” He whispers and you smile.
“I’d like that.” He mirrors your soft smile, the both of you leaning closer and closer.
“I’m gone for 10 minutes!” Satoru yells and the both of you shoot apart.
“I gotta say I didn’t think you had it in you.” Satoru laughs, rubbing the towel over his hair and the rest was history.
Suguru made it up with a nice date the next day.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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randomdragonfires · 2 days
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If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 4
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Chapter 4 | Right Where You Left Me
SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.
Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.
WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY; Slow burn, I think?
WORD COUNT | 3.4k
Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
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The days passed by in a quiet, green haze.
The cave where she had been made to stay shouldn’t have provided her with as much solitude as it did, given her circumstances. But with each passing moment, she found herself healing, growing stronger, and seeing as clearly as the blue sapphire that now haunted her dreams. She embraced the quietness of it all, allowing her situation to wash over her as she came to terms with it.
She had run, and she hadn’t made it. The claw marks and gashes all over her form were definite proof. In these last few days, she had been too weak to move. She felt pain with every weak movement in her limbs, ensuring her captivity for a longer period of time. But in the time that had passed as she recovered, one thing was constant.
The nightmares, and him.
Night after night, she found herself ensnared in a labyrinth of nightmares, each more vivid and terrifying than the last. In the darkness of her dreams, the snarling beast lurked, its eyes gleaming with malice as it bore down upon her with relentless fury. She would awaken with a start, her heart pounding against her chest as she gasped for air, drenched in cold sweat. The cave around her offered no solace, its walls closing in like the jaws of the predator she’d been trying to escape in her dreams.
In her tired state of mind, she thought she had imagined his warm palm on her forehead, checking for a fever. Had she imagined his mumbled Valyrian whispers too? Ēdrugon sȳrī, mandianna, she had heard, his voice as mellifluous as the calm waters of the stream outside. [Sleep well, niece.]
She had always loved listening to him speak.
At first, his presence was a comfort, his soothing words a balm to her frayed nerves. He would speak to her in hushed tones, murmuring smooth Valyrian into her ears as she struggled to comprehend the light touch of his moving lips on her skin. And when words failed, he would hold her close, his arms a sanctuary against the dreams that threatened to consume her.
Nyke paktot kesīr, he would say. Ao sagon rūsīr issa. [I’m here now… you’re with me.]
But as the nights wore on, confusion crept into her heart, clouding her thoughts like a dense fog. His touch, once a source of uninhibited, fanciful love, now stirred something unfamiliar within her, a longing and heaviness that she could not name. She would lie awake, breathing and panting in the silence of the cave, her mind awash with questions that had no answers.
Was it his gentle touch that set her soul ablaze, or was it merely the anger at being ripped away from her beloved in the middle of the night? How did it come to this? How did he end up becoming the very safety that she sought to gain by running far and away from him? She could not say, and so she clung to him like a lifeline, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. What else could she do?
Those were the thoughts that consumed her as she sat up, her body sore as she grunted in pain. She sat up for the first time in what she assumed could only be days, and managed to stand up too. She braced herself with a hand on the slippery cave wall, her eyes landing on the mountain of discarded bandages - covered presumably in her own blood.
She closed her eyes shut and tried to get a grip on her surroundings once more - it seemed that no matter how many times she had tried, she couldn’t come to terms with being brought to the jungle by a man who made her heart rush to wherever he touched her - no matter his intentions to hurt her family.
Are you ashamed of me, mother? For wanting him despite it all? For never stopping?
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, determined to wrestle back control from the haunting memories that threatened to take her for all she was worth. At first, all she could hear were the echoes of that harrowing encounter - the guttural snarls of the boar and the piercing screams - both his and hers - that tore through the air.
No, no, no.
But she refused to let fear hold her captive any longer. Slowly, she forced her mind to shift its focus, reaching beyond the darkness that threatened to suffocate her. Gradually, the noises of her nightmares began to fade, replaced by the gentle sounds of the forest - the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the melodious chirping of birds, and the soothing murmur of the stream of water trickling nearby. Before she knew it, the water had called to her and she walked slowly before stepping inside.
The sting of the wounds from initial contact faded and gave way to a relaxing sensation that made her skin tingle. Her shift billowed in the water, and she let herself breathe before she lifted her head up to breathe. She kept up these motions until she raised her head up to find that Aemond had come back, from wherever he’d gone. His presence, though familiar, sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through her veins, stirring something deep within her.
His expression was one that she knew all too well; there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as they simply stared at each other, unmoving. In the calmness of her mind, it was easy to forget the weight of their shared history, to lose herself in the fantasy of a time long before the war had torn them apart. Every stolen kiss, every tender touch—it all rushed back to her in a dizzying whirlwind of emotion, threatening to consume her with its intensity.
If she were to beckon him to her right now, would he come? Should she?
The question lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. But before she could find the words to speak, he was the first to look away, breaking the spell that had held them captive. With a heavy sigh, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable chasm. And in that bittersweet moment, she knew that some things were better left unsaid, some desires left unfulfilled. For as much as she yearned for his touch, she also knew the pain that lay in its wake—the shattered dreams, the broken promises.
One moment she wanted to see him die, and the next, her heart would tear itself apart with how much it wanted him. She hated this, not knowing how she felt about him.
But didn’t she?
He set up a fire and sat on a log, staring into the fire like it held all the answers. What did he hope to see?
When the water went from being calming to making her feel cold, she stepped out, damp clothes sticking to her form as she walked, resembling a Goddess come to life. She took her seat next to him, hugging her knees tight as she leaned forward to take in the warmth. She breathed in the smoky smell of the fire, goosebumps rising from the heat of the fire and his gaze, now focused on her.
“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
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Winterfell was beginning to feel less like a foreign land and more like a place she could learn to love and call home.
She had taken her time familiarizing herself with every nook and corner without intruding on what she wasn’t meant to see in her capacity as a guest. If the war ends in her mother’s favor, she knows she’ll soon be Lady of this castle - no longer a guest. She had walked around the gardens, taken her time with the Godswood, gone down to visit the kitchens, and strolled on the grounds countless times. She had made friends, people she loved to speak to and smile at every day; those who made this uncertain time much more bearable as she tried to push horrid thoughts about her family at war to the back of her mind.
And him.
Finding no answers to her confusions as to why Aemond would draw first blood by killing the brother of the woman he loved, her mind raced much too fast for her convenience. She knew why, though, deep down. She simply refused to believe it.
Believing it would mean coming to terms with the fact that he had given up on her. On them.
While she chose not to trust her mind, her heart was a lot more fickle. Lord Stark had been perfectly gracious and treated her with all the gentleness worthy of a Princess and a future wife. It was a calmer, happier, and much less doubtful relationship than the one she had with Aemond. It was steady, and it was hers now.
This would all be hers. Lord Stark would rule the Keep, and she would rule him. He was hers, and he made sure she had no doubts about the same.
The thought did not make her feel as bad as it used to. This would be her way of moving on with her life and doing her part to ensure her mother’s victory. Cregan brought her a satisfaction of doing things right that Aemond did not. She never had to doubt him or herself with this man. Lighter feelings of infatuation clouded her mind as she walked to the library, her purposeful stride taking her to where her future husband sat.
The scent of old parchment hung heavy in the air as she found herself closer to where he was, mingling with the subtle aroma of beeswax polish that adorned the wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. At the heart of the library stood a grand fireplace, its crackling flames casting a warm glow that bathed the room in a soft, golden light. And right next to it, he sat in a wooden chair, elbow on the armrest as he held his face up by the chin. He looked worse for wear and dejected, and it pained her to see.
What was it about her that she only ever ended up with men who chose to brood like there was no tomorrow?
She stood by the arch, leaning to the side as she debated disturbing him when he seemed like he’d much rather be left alone. As she decided to step out and read while waiting for him to come out on his own accord, she heard his heavy voice call after her.
“Princess.”
“My lord.” She couldn’t possibly leave now, so she walked in, steps as quiet as the man himself. She took to standing in front of him, her figure forming a dark silhouette as she blocked the hearth from his view. He leaned forward and took her hands in his, and she was startled by how huge they were in comparison to hers. Aemond’s hands were beautiful in an obviously otherworldly Targaryen way, with nimble, dexterous fingers; Cregan’s were unabashedly huge and well-worked yet warm, just like him.
She would learn to stop comparing them soon. It would not be long. Damned mind and heart, forever at war.
He’d had to execute a Night’s Watch deserter today - the Northerners pass their own sentences, she’d been told. “I heard you’ve had a taxing day. I thought I’d…” It seemed silly to her now to think her presence would lighten him up given the circumstances. She turned to look at the path she’d walked through, nervous at her thoughts of inadequacy as she thought of a suitable excuse to walk away without feeling embarrassed. But it seemed that there was no need.
“I killed a man today. Swung Ice heavy and clean into his neck… and now, I hold the most beautiful woman in the realm with the very same hands.” He talked as though he was speaking to himself rather than her - there was a certain absent-mindedness about him that endeared him to her - or was it his way of showing that his mind was preoccupied?
“Aye, good fortune is shining upon me.”
She smiled, never considering that her presence could bring about that level of comfort to a man who seemed much more put together than she. Her gaze was half-lidded as she looked down at him, his head leaning forward to rest his forehead upon their conjoined hands.
“What’s it like?” She regretted the words immediately after they tumbled out, knowing very well that she was throwing into his face the very subject that he probably wished to forget.
“Do you really want to know? It is a topic unsuited for a woman of your gentle nature, Princess.”
“If you want to speak, I want to listen.”
She did not miss his somber smile, making it clear to her that he appreciated her company more than he let on - for now, that was enough. “When men pledge themselves to the Night’s Watch, it is an oath for life. It is a matter of keeping your word, of honor. And when you’ve proved that your word means little and less, you’ve disrespected those you swore to protect. When this happens… as their liege lord, it is my place to punish them for it. It is not something I take pride in, but it needs to be done. One cannot put off justice for too long. Never.”
“Does it always have to be you swinging the sword?”
“Aye. ‘Tis only respectful to the man losing his life, regardless of his fallacies.”
She nodded, understanding his reasoning, and grateful that he’d seen fit to let her understand. Most would dismiss her, saying it did not fall under a lady’s purview - but he didn’t, and she appreciated that more than he knew.
For a moment, they stayed together in silence. He only got warmer with each passing moment, a feeling of comfort in the cold air that she’d grown accustomed to. “I am grateful… that it’s you,” she said. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve by saying it, but she did anyway.
“I’m glad you’re happier, Princess. I…” She found doubt in his eyes as he debated whether or not to say the words, but she wordlessly encouraged him to go ahead by squeezing his hands in her hold. “Your brother told me that your loyalties are… divided; that you will need time to accept me. I am glad that you are.”
She tensed at the mention of her affections for Aemond, but she was quick to let it pass. She would not entertain her heart’s pull towards the man who killed her brother - she would not. Here sat a good man with the patience of a maester - she would learn to be worthy of his affections.
Almost as though he sensed her train of thought, he pulled her right back to where he was. “Princess?”
She smiled, a tired smile of resignation as she found herself grateful at the hand she’d been dealt. A time of war, where well-bred men were turned into murderers - and somehow, the Gods saw fit to give this good man to her. She was thankful, and by the Gods, she would learn to love him well.
“I’m happy too.”
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“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
She refused to look at him. Her eyes were trained on the fire, the blaze blinding her for a moment until she turned to look the other way to escape the heat-induced tears in her eyes. She felt the dampness of her form and clothes dissipate with each passing moment, and she let her throat bob as she allowed herself to calm down.
“As long as it takes.” His voice was devoid of any emotion at all, and she was struck by how hard it was for her to read him through his words - it wasn’t like this before. She used to be able to make out his emotions from the simplest of words or noises, but now it was as though she was made to face a stranger. But then again, she didn’t know this man. The Aemond she knew and loved was not battle-tested and war-worn; he was a scholarly achiever who took more pride in himself than his spoils. How could she understand him if she did not know him at all?
“And you see no other way to exact revenge? He’s…” The weight of her words overwhelmed her, and she could not bring herself to complete the sentence.. Here she was, abducted at night from where her mother thought she’d be safe, by the man whom she once upon a time believed would protect her - eventually, both Winterfell and Aemond had led to her current state.
“The war is over, uncle. The realm is slowly getting back up and the lords are working towards peace once more. Must you truly be so vengeful? Undo all the work that is being done?” The anger and tension was palpable, with her not being able to contain herself. The more she spoke, the more she knew that all of what he did was unnecessary - but then again, this entire Dance was unnecessary, was it not? “Cregan is good to me. He’s a good man and he cares about Westeros, he cares about making Aegon a worthy King despite all the poor child has been through-”
“No amount of goodness can change the fact that Cregan Stark did not pledge allegiance to the rightful king.”
“The rightful king? Grandfather declared my mother the rightful heir long before Aegon was even born -”
“Before he was born! When he was born, she lost every right to the Iron Throne. A much more sensible woman would have stepped away, but my sweet sister -”
“It was HER RIGHT!”
“It was never hers and it was certainly not yours or your bastard brothers' to claim!” With words exchanged and thrown at each other like weapons, her hands had been animatedly moving about as was her habit. But she froze at those last words. She knew very well that he had too, if the sudden hitching of his breath was any indication.
He wouldn’t apologize, that much she knew. He was much too proud and condescending about his otherworldly and striking Targaryen features to apologize to her - for she knew very well what she was, even if nobody else would openly admit to it.
A bastard.
Her mind was a mess as she looked at him, at a loss for words. The spell had shifted, they weren’t bickering as they used to any longer. In the silence, a moment suspended in time, she looked at him - really, truly, looked.  
And there sat a boy. Not a battle-tested man who was now a hidden fugitive, but a boy. The boy that she’d known and loved. How much longer could they possibly hold on to grudges that neither had inflicted upon each other? The war had broken them, gotten them to drift apart - but where did it end?
Her heart ached as she beheld him, recognizing the boy she had once known beneath the bitterness and resentment that time and circumstance had piled upon him. The lines etched into his face told stories of battles fought and losses endured, but his eyes betrayed the weariness of a soul weighed down by burdens too heavy to bear alone.
He was tired. 
He was depressed, hungry for revenge and angry, but in close vicinity, as her hand reached up to let her fingertips graze over his eyepatch, she could not help but think. This was her Aemond. She’d waited for him to take her away, and in a cruel twist of fate, they ended up here.
In the dim glow of twilight, her voice, a tantalizing whisper, wrapped around him like a spell. "I haven't ever seen you without your eyepatch. You never let me." Each word, a delicate lure, tugged at something deep within her; a longing that she had never quite moved on from, but scarcely dared to acknowledge in her time away from him.
If she leaned in just a bit more, she could kiss him. Would it be wrong to? Did he want her to? What was he thinking?
His hand closed around her wrist, holding her delicate touch in place over his concealed eye. With a weary exhale, he released a breath burdened with the weight of countless battles, etched into the lines of his weathered face.
How had she gone this far without him? 
Before she let her fleetingly powerful feelings take over her, she closed her eyes and walked away. In the distance, a lone wolf's mournful howl pierced the tranquil stillness of the forest, making for a haunting melody.
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haoboutyou · 2 days
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Hi! (^3^)/ I really liked the way you wrote "Mornings With You" and I wanted to request if you can make a version with Seungcheol if you want to. Thankies in advance (●•^-^•●) 💜💜💜
fren u r in luck :D
lucky in love | choi seungcheol
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fluff | 730 words | no warnings
an: tbh that wonu fic was actually a cheol fic but then i realised… i have way too many… (i need help)
Choi Seungcheol knows that he’s loved. He’s loved by his fans, who greet him with resounding cheers every time he comes on stage. He’s loved by his members, whom he has gone through multiple trials and tribulations by each others’ sides. He’s loved by his family, who have given and will continue to give their unwavering support for everything he wishes to pursue. Most of all, he knows that he’s loved by you.
It’s evident in the way you know his coffee order by heart. In the way your pinkies stay connected even while you’re talking to someone else. He sees it when you unknowingly lean into him in crowded spaces. How you nag at him to take better care of himself and eat his meals on time. How your eyes seem to sparkle a billion times more when you see him walking into the room.
He knows just how much he’s loved by you when he arrives home and spots you knocked out on the living room couch. Seungcheol smiles quietly to himself, removing his shoes aside before carefully walking up to you. The television in front of you is still running, but you’re cross-legged with Kkuma snoozing away in your lap. No doubt you were doing some work before Kkuma deemed herself more important – your laptop is tossed to the other side of the couch, screen dark.
He sinks into the couch next to you, hand outstretched as he leans over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear when Kkuma stirs awake in your lap. The little white dog yaps when she realises her father has returned, bounding over to him instead. He giggles as she attempts to lick his face all over. The sudden noise and movement wake you, sleepily turning over only to be greeted by the sight of your lover doused in dog saliva.
“Hey,” a sleepy smile graces your features, greeted by Seungcheol trying to calm the excited puppy down. He turns to you, a fond smile and an eyebrow raised. Understanding his silent question, you stretch your arms up, leaning into his shoulder as you scrunch your nose. “I wanted to wait for you to come home,” a cheeky grin appears. “Welcome home!”
Oh, he feels his heartstrings being pulled, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wave of love and adoration so strong that his eyes start to water. Kkuma jumps off, her little paws padding off elsewhere as Seungcheol pulls you into his arms.
“I’m home,” he murmurs into your hair. His hand engulfs your own, grip tightening with the sudden proclamation. His brows furrow deeper as he inhales deeply, taking in your familiar comforting scent. “Practice was so hard today – missed you a bit more than usual.”
“Aww, my big baby…” You can’t help but coo. Using your free hand, you smooth the wrinkles between his brows with your thumb. “You did well today, do you wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, choosing instead to bury his slumping figure in the crook of your neck.
“Have you eaten?” He nods, fluffy hair tickling you. “Do you want to take a shower first then? I’ll make some chamomile tea for you.”
You gently guide Seungcheol into the bathroom, leaving him to clean himself up while you prepare his promised tea.
Fresh out of the shower and nighttime routine completed, Seungcheol finds you already tucked into bed and follows suit. He wraps himself around you, arms and legs tangling under the sheets. Seungcheol can feel his entire body relax under your soothing touch as you card gentle fingers through his hair.
He’s fighting sleep, especially with you patting his head like a child, when he remembers something he’d been meaning to say.
“I don’t have to go to the company tomorrow.”
“Hmm?” You squint through the darkness, barely making out the twinkle hidden behind his tired eyes.
He smiles, pressing soft kisses by your collarbone. “I’m all yours tomorrow, do you want to do anything?”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
You ponder a little bit more before resting your head back down on his chest. “Eh, it’s tomorrow’s problem. ‘m sleepy now.”
Seungcheol lets out a light chuckle. He pulls the covers higher over your bodies, pressing you impossibly closer to him. He knows he’ll spoil you senseless tomorrow anyway.
“Sounds good. Good night, baby.”
“Good night, Cheollie.”
He hopes you know how much he loves you too.
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adrift-in-thyme · 20 hours
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Here it is! The fairy Time fic I promised. Be warned, it is extremely fluffy
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It is a quiet night.
Time is always grateful for those. They are in short supply on this journey, too often interrupted by the rise of the cursed Blood Moon or an outburst of beasts from under the cover of foliage. But tonight, the moon is tranquil and golden and the surrounding bushes and trees conceal nothing except chattering critters.
The heroes have settled around the fire, and are trading lazy quips. The occasional tale sneaks in between them, which quickly becomes a competition to see who has endured the more exciting experience. 
Time doesn’t normally make a habit of joining in. He is content to remain just outside the conversation, close enough to comment if necessary, but far enough to merely listen. Such peace and joy are precious things – as precious as every moment spent by Malon’s side – and they surround him like a warm blanket.  
Tonight, however, that wonderful feeling is making it rather difficult to remain awake. 
It doesn’t help that the healing spells he had cast in the aftermath of today’s battle have left him feeling drained. With the traveler down and their potions used up, he had had little choice but to act. And he doesn’t regret it in the least. But that doesn’t negate the fact that healing magic has never been his strong suit.
Every fae possesses the power, yet not all have the strength to employ it in such a measure as he had today. Healing is a delicate act. It requires attentiveness and care, dedication and focus. He had poured all of that and more into his spells, used his heart and mind, his soul to heal his brothers’ wounds and save their lives. And in the moments afterward…had collapsed. 
He is fortunate his brothers had been there to catch him. Too many times before he learned his limit, this weakness had spelled his doom. He has scars on his wings to prove it.
Still, he is practically useless, even now after the impromptu nap. He feels dried up and hollowed out, limbs heavy with the same exhaustion that drags his eyelids downward. And though he would normally protest at least a little at the prospect of staying in his current position, he cannot dredge up the will to do so.
So, here he remains, curled up on his side on Wind’s lap, Warriors’ scarf a silken cocoon about his body, one giant wing draped over him like a comforter. 
He shifts with a small sigh. The sailor giggles, ever amazed at his fairy form, and reaches out to run a finger over Time’s wings. He is gentle, careful in every movement. Still, Time is a bit surprised at the lack of the fear that usually bubbles up whenever anyone touches him in this form.
He has had too many injuries, too many close calls with death or worse. They have made him wary. But he trusts the sailor. Wind is nothing if not kind. 
He is safe here. 
The knowledge hits him harder than any monster blow.
You are safe here.
Something breathtakingly warm wells up in him at that thought, similar to the feeling he has been basking in since he awakened, yet unique all the same.
“Alright, old man?” A soft voice asks, now, and Time pries open the eye he hadn’t even registered closing. Warriors grins down at him. 
Time’s soft hum quickly dissolves into a blissful sigh as the captain tucks him more securely into his bed of softness. He allows his eye to slide shut again, his body to relax more fully. He allows the sensations and sounds to envelop him, surround him in warmth and comfort. To pull him down into blessed darkness once more.
“He’s adorable like this,” Wind says, his noisy whisper breaking through the haze. Another giddy giggle bursts forth from him like gurgling water. 
“He is, isn’t he?” It’s Twilight now. Time can imagine the dirt-eating grin on his face, the same one that spreads across Malon’s when she beats him in yet another race around the pasture. “Though I doubt he wants us calling him that.”
There’s a pause, then in a disapproving whisper-yell, “and he definitely doesn’t want that. Put that slate of yours away, champion!”
There is the distinct sound of a camera snapping a photograph. Laughter ripples through the group like the wind through the trees. 
“When he kills you all, don’t come running to me,” Twilight says, though there’s laughter in his voice too.
Traitors, Time thinks, lazily, all of them.
“Oh, come on, Twi. Look at him! He wouldn’t hurt us! Not like this anyway.”
“Then, you haven’t gotten a good look at his wings,” Legend pipes up, drily. “They’ve got eyes on them, you know.”
“Ooh.” Time can feel Wind’s breath ghosting him as the boy leans down to get a closer look. “I wonder if they make up for the one he lost. I’ll bet he can see us through ‘em!”
If Time wasn’t quite so tired (or finding this quite so exasperatingly comical) he would correct that assumption. But then again, what’s the harm in allowing a little rumor like that to spread and strike some healthy fear into the hearts of his would-be blackmailers? 
“Come on guys.” Warriors’ voice rises above the hushed clamor of the others, all bickering about Time’s ability, or lack thereof to watch them through his wings. “He’s exhausted. Let him sleep.”
The heroes try to quiet, though their efforts are about as successful as Time suspected they would be. Whispers and barely stifled laughter continue to weave their way gallantly through the night.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
…though a few more telltale clicks of Wild’s slate cement his decision to play a prank on him as soon as he regains his strength. 
“He’s so small,” someone murmurs, now as the hubbub begins to subside, sleepiness getting the best of even the most energetic among them. Sky, Time’s mind slowly supplies, putting a face to the voice that wafts gently around him. “To think, he healed us all while in that form…”
“Something you get to know very quickly about Sprite is that size doesn’t bother him,” Warriors replies, fondness in his tone. “Even as a kid, he could take out groups of monsters much larger than what we faced today.”
Sky chuckles, soft and almost sad. Time is too far gone to decipher why. 
But he can’t deny the sudden rush of warmth when the chosen hero whispers, “thank you…little one.” And when, in the next moment, Sky ghosts a finger over the very tip of his wings, Time is unafraid beneath his touch. 
He drifts off not long afterward to the sound of tired murmurs, the crackling of the campfire, and a soft song played upon an ocarina, the notes drifting up toward the moon.
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mechaknight-98 · 24 hours
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Teal Flames (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki
Authors note: the final Sakura Coachella piece and my final Sakura piece for a while.
Daigo desperate for another round pierced his Greedy breeding bitch. She moaned as she readied herself for another round of voracious mating. their bodies growing accustomed and further acquainted with the other began to match their vast sex drives, brought on by unrelenting teasing and mutual affection that ran deep between them. Their bodies adapted being able to sense when the other was needed. Within moments of Sakura being aroused Daigo’s dick hardened and vice versa. When they weren't fucking eating or working they were recovering from one of those three (typically the first one)
As Daigo gave Sakura another load she moaned reaching a high of her own. The two sat laid down on the hotel bed after an insane night of fucking the whole time. Daigo and Sakura Sat next to each other overstimulated and yet still aroused
“God you're so hot,” Daigo said catching his breath. Kkura smiled and responded,
“You’re not too bad yourself stud,” Daigo smiled and made the move to sleep
“Tapping out,” Sakura questioned teasingly. Daigo nodded tired.
“As much as I would love to continue this train I am exhausted Kkura. We have been going for (Daigo checks his watch) 5 hours nonstop. I'm going to sleep. It's been such a long day,” Daigo responded.
“Okay but when you wake up that cock better be in me again,” Sakura said demandingly but also with an innocent pout.
“God you're greedy,” Daigo teased. Sakura smiled
“So what TV? I have been searching for someone who can match me.” Kkura said with a happy smile. She liked Daigo because Daigo was always so supportive and kind but the recent knowledge of his “outlaw side” brought a new facet to their relationship that kept her hot and bothered. She needed him to shed the timid peacekeeper and fully embrace his more nefarious side because it brought out the best in him. He was strong he was confident and most importantly for Kkura, he was virulently virile. Whenever she wanted sex Daigo was always ready and ready for her. If she wasn't on the pill she's 100% sure she would have been pregnant by now with how much they fuck, it also doesn't help that hits her in all the spaces and spots she needs. The only downside is now she can't go back to Tobi or any of her other boy toys again. Daigo ruined it for her.
Daig moved to sleep on his side where Kkura planted herself in his arms little spoon style. The two rested for a few hours. Daigo was brought out of his pleasant dream by a raging erection. He groans as her rolls over to see Sakura sleeping peacefully not wanting to disturb her he decides to take a shower and get dressed for the day. A couple of minutes through Daigo’s shower, Sakura is woken up by her arousal. As she comes to consciousness she reaches out for Daigo and when she doesn't feel him she gets upset. “I told him I wanted to be fucked awake,” she muttered to herself. She sits up and hears the shower. “I am going to take what's mine,” Kkura mutters to herself as she gets up. She walks into the shower to see Daigo’s raging erection. She smiled as she waltzed in Daigo watched uneasily as she entered. Her gaze was ravenous and frightening.
“I distinctly remember telling you that I wanted you buried in me when you woke up,” Sakura says as she begins to stroke Daigo’s cock at a tortured and languid pace. Daigo moaned at Sakura’s gentle but erotic touch. “I should stop and leave you like this as punishment for not obeying, but I need another load in me so I'm going stop here and you're going to fuck me,” Daigo nods at Sakura’s words before lining up with her entrance. Daigo slid his rod along Kkura’s sopping pussy before she whined, “Don't tease me. Just rail me!” Daigo stopped and waited letting Sakura’s anticipation build and when she went to say something, he dived in.
“Oh God yeah,” Sakura moaned as she felt her walls open before constricting snugly around Daigo
“Jeez Kkura how are you still so tight?” Daigo asked as her pussy gripped his cock with the same fervor she had on stage. Sakura gave Daigo a wicked grin. Enraptured by him filling her up she began to fuck herself on his cock. She threw it back in a way that mirrored her moves in the smart video as she took more and more of Daigo’s cock. Feeling immense pressure and fervor Sakura caused Daigo to erupt inside of her causing Sakura to moan deeply as she felt his orgasm smear white all over her walls. She however didn't stop. Her mind reeled as she chased her release. She pushed Daigo to the floor before she began riding in earnest. She looked happily as she felt his manhood continue to pump more cum into her insatiable womb.
“Yes fill me. Fill me to the brim with your cum and make me yours again and again,” Sakura moaned. Overwhelmed Sakura didn't notice her orgasm hit her like a truck as she ran head first into her own orgasm as she pushed Daigo into another. Daigo groaned in pleasured agony as she took another load from him.
After their engagement, Daigo and Kkura separated so Sakura could prep for week 2 of KkuraChella as Daigo called it. During Kkura’s practice, she grew worried as Daigo never came for her or sent a text. This worry only increased so much that Chaewon noticed and asked Kkura about it.
“What's up Kkura?”
“Daigo he's been gone, and I don't know where he is?”
Chaewon looked at her elder softly before saying, “He will be at the performance. I am sure of it.” Sakura eased hearing her leader’s reassuring words, but her worry remained.
True to Chaewon’s prediction Daigo was there waiting for her backstage and a giant bandaid over his nose. Sakura looked at Daigo terrified as did the rest of the fimmies and the boys, but Daigo waved them off saying, “Dont worry I'm fine. I'll explain more after the show.” before the girls gave an excellent performance for week two.
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thevirgincherry · 1 day
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SUBSTITUTE LOVER !
ft. jack krauser x fem!reader, jack krauser x leon s. kennedy
tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, internalised homophobia, referenced domestic abuse, use of the f slur im so sorry, some kreon, smut, a little voyeurism, blood at the end
note. commission for @d10nyx !!!! feeding people what they want :3 nyxie wyxie i hope this is good n i hope u enjoy it!!!!’ LUV U MWAH.. ignore any mistakes… my editing sucks 😓 goes back n forth between krauser n reader pov pretty fast n the smut is a little boring 😓 pretend bootcamp is like not super top secret !!! also idk how american military works so ignore my attempt at that
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As a young girl, you understand love to be an unconditional, non-negotiable and non-refundable thing. It’s human nature to love, it is your god given right to love and for your father to deny you of the only thing your heart knows to do—It’s downright cruel.
He’s a military man and that comes with perks. You get to visit his platoon and get an eyeful of bulging quads and strong jaws and sweaty abs— That is the only perk now that you think about it. Oh, and that cute blond dude who still has all his hair. Duh. Otherwise he wouldn’t be blond. He’s a total babe and when he smiles, blinking at you with feline eyes as he watches quietly from behind his bangs, you find yourself keeling over to support the weight of your aching heart.
(Pussyache, heartache, it’s all the same to you.)
Whenever you ask your dad what’s so special about him, why’s he got such shiny hair? What shampoo does he use? Is it a medical condition, does he have to keep the hair? Does his head get cold or something? He goes all stiff like you’ve asked too much of him, which you never have, you ask for nothing but love.
Ever since your mother left—Well, no it’s not even that. He didn’t change when she left. Dad is the same ol’ dad you’ve had for years. Jack is Jack and your mother isn’t going to change that, she didn’t change that, so she left and never looked back. She left you ‘cause you’re Jack’s girl and nothing is going to change that. You carry a part of your father wherever you go and that would be unwelcome in her house. She told you over the phone that she no longer needed all that medication - it was just your father.
Oh, he’s not so bad. Jack keeps you fed and clothed and what else are you meant to expect from a dad? No dads love is adequate to the way you love them. Never has and never will be.
Still, he’s changed and that you’re sure of.
His temper is short, you’re well aware. You live with the guy, of course you know all about it. He flips out when the toilet lid isn’t closed, and when you give him a gentle reminder that you don’t carry the same junk he does down there, Jack gives you the cold shoulder. It’s all about gentle parenting with your dad, but the sulking has escalated into full blown temper tantrums and you don’t know where you’ve gone wrong.
Dad’s never gotten physical. Until he does. And now you don’t remember a time where he was ever kind. You’re beaten into a pulp by the hand that feeds you and you’re not quite sure where it all went wrong, what you’ve done to be on the receiving end of such intense resentment.
All you’ve ever known is a man devoted to anger, but he’s not violent. Your dad is not violent. He’s the one who picked you up when you toppled over, he taught you how to ride a bike and he put you on his shoulders to see the world from his point of view— And that is it really. Nothing more, nothing less.
You don’t have daddy issues so to say, more so it’s your father that has issues in general, and those issues are untouched by any flame, they burn brighter than tiger eyes. It seems that they’ve started to fracture, and now the only thing that brings him relief is his fist on your supple skin, a cathartic end to a hard fucking day.
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Let’s get one thing straight - Jack Krauser is not a faggot. Jack had a wife and he fucked that wife in the marriage bed once and they never fucked again. You were conceived on the first try.
A faggot couldn’t do that.
It starts with Leon S. Kennedy. He’s wet behind the ears and wet in his pink mouth and pink hole. He stares at Jack like he’s seen something nice, then he looks away a moment later, unable to hold his gaze.
Jack Krauser isn’t gay. It just gets lonely out here. It gets hard to keep his men in line and nothing scares them more than dick. Jack Krauser is not gay—And when Kennedy’s tight little hole cranks him in like a wine cork, it means nothing. This is how you get through to insolent brats, it’s the only way, no other method has worked as well as this.
If Jack Krauser was gay he would lounge in the bunk with Kennedy, he would tenderly wipe the sweat from his blond brows and kiss him stupid. But he does none of that. Kennedy is sent to shower, limping as he goes.
(Not before Jack gives him a nice hard smack on his backside and tells him to Pack it up, Boy Scout. Not before Leon presses his nose into the hollows of his neck, his boyish beam is that of a cat that got the cream, sweat gleaming to highlight the shape of his collarbones.)
So yeah. Jack is straight, and he can prove it. He would be able to prove it but the only bitch for miles left him. There’s you. But that’s fucked up. Jack wouldn’t go there.
Then you start to ask questions about Kennedy. And of course it’s him, with the petal lips and tawny lashes that remind Jack of toffee drizzled on coffee cake, of course he caught your attention— Of course he did.
(Like father, like daughter.)
You prod and he snaps, icy eyes a frigid landscape as his gaze pierces you with bone-chilling intensity. You shift from foot to foot, toying with loose threads at the hemline of your frayed nightdress.
“Sorry, dad.” You look down at your feet, wiggle your toes against the kitchen tiles and get sent into the edge of the counter when Jack lands a solid hit on your cheek.
Why, he oughta use some of that military training on you. Not the dick. Not ‘cause he’s gay, but because you’re his daughter. Obviously.
Definitely not ‘cause he’s gay.
Jack could fuck you if he really wanted. You have some, uh, assets. Yeah, you have tits, those are interesting. You have an ass, that’s nice. Got a pussy, an extra bonus. All of those are things that Jack loves. Really, he does, and he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone.
Jack takes your chin in his crushing grip, tilts your head to the left and then to the right, you tremble and make yourself small, clutching at the counter behind like you intend to saw yourself in half so your top half can make a quick escape.
“Dad…” Your little hand wraps around his wrist, fingers barely touching as you try to get him off, shaken up by his sudden burst of violence. “I’m sorry.”
He grunts, releasing you from his hold and watching your body crumple in on itself. You cup your cheek to check for damage, pressing the pads of your fingers into your jaw with a groan.
It throbs with each pulse of Jack’s heart.
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You think your dad has a crush on the rookie. It might be a stretch, but he never looked at your mom that way. It transcends love and turns into hatred and heat ‘cause your dad is incapable of producing any positive feelings towards anyone ever. You would know that better than anyone, you know him better than anyone, better than he knows himself.
His tongue runs along his white canines as he watches Kennedy hold a plank and man, he’s got it bad for the rookie. You don’t blame him - look at that form, at that ass. Dad has good taste, he gets it! Now that the two of you have found some common ground, maybe he’ll stop backhanding you into next year.
Kennedy’s given mercy by your oh-so gracious father and his body caves in, hitting the mud with a soft thump—He gets up ass first and you suck in a breath at the same time your dad lets one out. His hips raise and his hands find grip in the ground before he plants his feet, lifting his body despite the discomfort that tinges his muscles. Kennedy hobbles away and you love watching him leave. Dad must think the same ‘cause he reaches down to adjust his cargos. Gross.
You catch them in the showers a week later.
You got bored waiting around for him, okay? The showers were your main priority—Not to see this, but to catch some hunks mid scrub down and turn the place into a porn set. Life has a funny way of taking all your wants and twisting them into half-wants. Seeing Leon naked? Great, amazing, no notes. Seeing your father naked? Dear fucking lord, you need a bullet put through your brain stat.
They're giving each other a muscle massage or whatever. Code for the most tender groping you have ever seen in your life. Dad cradles the back of Leon’s head sweetly. Jesus, you don’t think you’ve ever used that word to describe him. Their lips brush and Kennedy is the one that pulls back, Jack’s head moves forward to chase them, settling with ghosting kisses along the soft skin of Leon’s neck, dotted in cocoa dust moles and a protruding Adam’s apple that gets the same delicate treatment. Along with a quick lick that draws a moan from the base of Leon’s throat.
You think you might be intruding on something more personal than sex. Holy fuck, you didn’t know your dad could do personal, you didn’t know he had the ability to love so ardently. To love at all. What a dick. You don’t know whether to look away or not.
Like, Leon is—He’s cute. You like when his feathery lashes dust his cheeks each time he closes his eyes, you like how his body, soft with baby fat, gives away to the roughness of your father’s touch. The flesh of his hips divots when Jack grips them. Your father presses his back to the cool shower wall, the buttery flesh of Leon’s ass moulds to the shape of his fingers when he tugs him close to his broad chest— Cute, he has back dimples. Jack slots his thumbs in them, and then he makes the mistake of lifting his eyes from Leon’s angel face.
The running water is not enough to stop him from spotting you, head poked into the shower room as you gape. For your sake, you dip out the door to make your exit and head back to the car, not sure on whether you should be traumatised or enlightened by the possibly harrowing image that’s burned into your retinas like the worst form of LASIK.
The ride home is silent. Dad is silent most of the time, he talks but not to you. There’s one thing to talk about, but you doubt either of you want to touch on that.
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Jack lets you in first. The door clicks shut behind him and you’re both alone. He’s always alone with you. He’s never missed his wife until this very moment. Not out of love for her, but out of pure convenience. She would break up the silence, she would remind him that he is in fact attracted to women and what you saw back there was nothing. Hell, he could give you another sibling if you asked—He could do that.
In one try, like a real man.
He could get it up, he can get it up, he only gets it up for women. Kennedy is the closest thing to a girl, alright? That’s all there is. Wait till you find out about what they do in prison. Every guy at camp has had a turn with Kennedy—That’s just how it works. It’s not about being gay, it’s not— It’s just tradition, isn’t it? Picking on pretty boys like that, it’s the only way to get rid of all that pent up testosterone or whatever it is that swelters within Jack.
When you turn on your heels to leave for your bedroom, Jack calls your name. You freeze so fast it’s almost comical. Like you’re playing musical chairs.
“Yes, dad?” Your gaze is stuck to your white socks, the print of the floorboards is mighty interesting.
His brow dips and his scowl morphs into a pained smile that brings you more fear than comfort, his hand is heavy on your shoulder and Jack thinks this expression suits you well.
“You think you're smart?” Barging in like that, making assumptions that only women would make—You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.
“No, sir.” The chill that runs down your spine straightens it.
“On your knees, girl.” The way you’re looking at him—He hates it. You think you got him all figured out, putting him together like a puzzle, but you’re missing one piece—He’s not gay.
“No,” you say while doing as he says.
(Kennedy does that, cries out No! as the plush of his ass meets Jack’s thighs, as he fucks himself like a faggot on a dick that belongs to a man who once had a wife, a man with a daughter.)
“Dad, no—Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see anything.” You hang your head, pleading with the ground as Jack fishes his soft cock from his cargos, refusing to meet the tip with your eyes.
Your apology is lost to the softness of his dick, hanging huge and limp against his thigh like a deflated balloon. Fuck—No, no, it’s not because Jack is gay, it’s the daughter thing. You’re his daughter, and to get hard at the sight of your daughter would only ever elicit a prison sentence.
“Daddy,” you try again, cradling what you have with him close to your chest, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—Please, daddy, I don’t—Dad.” You fail to plead your case, you fail to garner any interest from his cock. “If it’s about—I don’t like him, I don’t like Leon, dad, you can have him, he’s all yours I swear—Just don’t do this to me, daddy, please.”
Jack’s cock twitches at the mere mention of his name.
“What did I tell you ‘bout running that stupid mouth of yours, girl? Where are your fuckin’ manners?” He rubs the ruddy tip along the crease of your jutting lips, the bottom one trembles. “Thought I taught you well.”
“No… No, don’t do that, dad—God, no.” Your complaints are snuffed out by the fat dick that stuffs itself down your throat, half-hard and thick enough to be a choking hazard.
(It poses a threat to you, but not to Kennedy. Man can that kid suck cock, with a face like that he’s lucky he’s not begging for his life.)
You gag and Jack pinches your nose. If he had a son, he would’ve taught him to play ball. But he’s stuck with a daughter, and the most you can do is dig your nails into his thighs, mucusy spit hanging from your chin in stringy strands.
“You’re made for this,” Jack tells you, and he’s right. Biologically, those lips of yours have evolved to maximum pout to suck cock. They bear resemblance to Leon’s—The vein on the underside of his dick throbs. Jack’s jaw is offset as his teeth grind together, splintering into thin shards of bone. Not the fucking time to be thinking of the rookie and his floppy hair, softer than cotton beneath Jack’s fingers, the rookie who is shaven clean save the shadow that lines his lips, the rookie that sports hardened lines on his otherwise plush abdomen, pink skin leading to an even pinker dick—Holy shit, what’s wrong with him?
At this pace, Jack’s going to contact a fucking therapist—Have it out with his bitch wife. That’s exactly what it is. Sexual frustration he's not been able to take out on your mother.
His cock slips from your mouth, it rests heavy on your face, casts a shadow as you cower at the sheer size. “Dad…” You cough wetly, hacking up bile that you push back down with a pained gulp. “Daddy… Don’t do it to me, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to look, dad, I’m not—I’m not mad at you.”
He scoffs, lifting you by the Peter Pan collar of your floral blouse—You look like a fucking Mormon. That pisses him off. Jack’s not a Mormon or a faggot, there are so many accusations in the air and it all rises to crescendo. You’re bent over the dining table, the fullness of your skirt is hoisted up to ruche around your waist in makeshift pleats and your white cotton panties are dangling around your ankles.
The lips of your puffy cunt cushion his dick and Jack starts to feel a little queasy. Not because—Not ‘cause of the pussy. It’s not that. It’s the daughter thing. Seriously—There’s no time to waste, Jack forces himself into your pussy before his dick folds in on itself. As he pistons himself in and out of your only partially wet cunt, it feels like nothing. Jack is numb.
Feels nothing, hears nothing—Sees nothing but him. The anger inside of him rises like a devastating wave, ready to engulf every skyscraper in its path. You end up being on the receiving end as you have been for as long as you’ve been alive—His very own punching bag. What else are kids for, huh?
Your stubborn pussy pushes him out, you dig your nails into the glazed wood of the table, clawing like they might find purchase in the grooves. Dad, dad, daddy, dad—It doesn’t work on him, you do nothing for him. When you cry, he doesn’t feel sad, and when your cunt clamps down on him, it brings him no pleasure.
A hand comes to rest on your back, forcing you into a sharp arch as Jack’s hips smack into yours at a bruising pace. Somewhere along the line, a very thin line that Jack snorts, it blurs—Your salty tears become the tang of Leon’s sweat, your hips become buttercream smooth in his grip, and your pussy—Your hole milks Jack for all he’s worth. The shroud has lifted from his shoulders and Jack feels weightless.
You lift your head, blood leaking from your nose, it congeals in fat lumps on your skin. “Daddy…” You sniffle, having had your head held down, grinding your bloody nose to a pulp against the smooth of the dinner table.
“Clean yourself up, girl.” Jack rolls his shoulders back, fists tightly balled by his side as he has proved nothing. Nothing at all. He’ll have to try again. No father of yours is a faggot. Can’t do that to his little girl.
(Excuse after fucking excuse.)
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storiesbyjes2g · 1 day
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3.106 Eyes on the prize
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I hated sitting there, listening to my wife cry, knowing I couldn't do anything for her. She was broken and I couldn't fix her. The weight of it all threatened to break me as well. In desperate attempts to remain strong for Sophia, I grabbed the dogs and went for the longest walk. Usually I wouldn't attempt a long walk with Kooper, but I needed it. I appreciated how steady the weather in Oasis Springs weather was. Whenever I needed to escape, I could always venture out into the dusty oven. The gentle swirls of wind and pitter patter of paws provided a soothing backdrop for my racing thoughts. How were we going to get through this? We weren't without options, but our dreams took a big hit. Our emotions suffocated us, and one day we would breathe again, but at the moment, it hurt.
The house was refreshingly quiet when we returned home, but I knew better than to think everything was magically alright. I unleashed the dogs and tiptoed to the bedroom to check on Sophia, but she was gone. It alarmed me at first, but it was a good sign. I found her outside, sitting at the table, staring at the air. I joined her but didn't know what to say or if I should say anything, but we definitely had much to discuss. Letting the silence linger for a moment felt appropriate. When comfortable, I drummed up the courage to ease us back to reality.
"So...what are you thinking about? I mean...what do you want to do?"
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She glanced up at the sky as if seeking an answer from the clouds. But an answer didn't come, and her eyes came back to me.
"I don't want to give up but..."
"Yeah...I know."
"And we have to pay for the treatments individually. If they don't work and I keep getting them..."
"Good thing we have the money tree, huh?"
I winked at her, trying to add a little levity to the situation.
"That's true," she said. "IVF is even more expensive."
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"Don't think about the money right now. We can figure that out later if we need to."
"What about your sister?"
"What about her?"
"Do you think she'll..."
"Alessia? No way."
"Why not? You haven't even asked her yet."
"Have you met her? She loves her body too much. She won't do it."
She sank into her chair, defeated by a non-existent foe. I felt it too, but one of us had to stay afloat and keep hope alive.
"We can think about that if it comes to it," I said. "Right now...maybe let's try the treatments for a few days. If they don't work, then we'll..."
I left my sentence dangling in the air, hoping she'd finish it. We were in this situation together, but I didn't feel right making decisions about her body, even though I was only trying to keep us focused on our dreams.
"Then we'll do in vitro," she said, finally.
"Okay then."
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luuuuucyscorner · 1 day
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Can you pls do an angst oneshot where y/n is a very kind religious nun at Briarcliff and she steps in and saves Kit while he is tortured because she believes all humans deserves kindness and respect?
Thanks for requesting another kit angst Anon, poor boy can't catch a break lmfaooo.
catholic school religion classes really coming in strong with this one.
𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲, 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲- 𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
Info: Sister Y/n is a nun at Briarcliff and she steps in and saves Kit while he is being disciplined because of her pure beliefs.
Tags: mentions of abuse, blood, alcohol, religion
word count: 4237
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Sister Jude takes a step back in annoyance when the door to her office suddenly slams open and a kind, delicate-looking nun walks quickly towards Kit, who is lying helpless and bleeding in his bindings on the chair. "Sister! you must stop this cruelty!" the nun demands. Kit is quite surprised to see what seems to be a gentle nun in this cruel palace filled with so much pain and suffering. He can practically feel the love radiating over him from the nun. "Sister Y/n, you dare interfere with his discipline?" Sister Jude scowls and cracks her thin, unforgiving whip against the cold concrete floor. the tip catches on Sister Y/n's thigh and she cries out in pain. "oh please Sister! Allow me to tend to his wounds!" she begs.
Sister Jude looks at the nun with irritation. "If you wish to take on this patient, so be it. But do not think that just because he is a pretty boy, that he does not deserve to be disciplined for his sins." Sister Y/n carefully approaches Kit, gently brushing his sweaty hair out of his face. She takes a small cloth from her pocket and begins to dab at the blood on his forehead and cheeks. Kit looks up at her with hope in his eyes. The nun begins to gently untie him and remove the chains and shackles, freeing his weak form from the confines of his chair. then, using all her might, she helps him stand up. giving Sister Jude one last thankful look, she turns and leads Kit down the hall into the infirmary, laying him down on a hospital bed.
Sister Y/n begins to softly inspect and survey Kit's injuries. gently picking at his cuts and bruises. She sighs and looks down at him with such warmth in her eyes. "this is going to hurt a little" she says, her voice soft and comforting. He nods and smiles a little, feeling at ease in her presence. Sister Y/n pours some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and begins to swab around his wounds, prepping for bandages and preventing infection. She continues to work on his wounds, using all her gentleness to apply ointment and wraps. she takes particular care when cleaning around his face, being mindful of his injuries and not applying too much pressure. "why are you being so kind to me? why are you being so different from Sister Jude?" Kit asks weakly.
"That is not a religious woman. Perhaps once she was, but now she is too obsessed with her power, with greed that she forgets that God said "Every living being is deserving of respect and kindness" Sister Y/n says, her voice full of remorse.
"But if a human does something terrible, doesn't that mean they don't deserve kindness or mercy?" Kit asks, softly. "God forgives, he is merciful." Sister Y/n replies softly, not wanting to upset him. "And besides, it's not like you have done anything so terrible that you deserve such a harsh punishment." she says soothingly.
She finishes up with Kit's bandages and opens a small locket cabinet to the right of him. She pulls out a small flask and indicates to Kit to drink. "Vodka, for the pain," she says in a hushed voice.
Kit hesitates for a moment. He isn't usually one to drink, but he supposes that the pain relief could be beneficial. He gently takes the flask and has a small sip. He is surprised at how quickly the warmth spreads throughout his body, dulling the pain and relaxing him. "Thank you," he whispers, handing the flask back to Sister Y/n.
"You are welcome Mr Walker," She says sincerely.
he smiles up at her, grateful for her kindness. "would it be alright if i ask you a question?" he asks quietly.
"of course," she says.
"Are you not afraid that you will be punished for doing this? for going up against Sister Jude?" He asks timidly. Sister Y/n pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before replying. "I do not do this for a reward. I do it because it is right," She says simply. "I have faith in my God, he knows my heart."
"You should rest," she tells him gently, brushing a hand through his hair.
Kit doesn't even realize how fast his eyelids are starting to grow heavy. the vodka was working a little quicker than he expected. He nods his head in sleepy agreement. "Thank you," he murmurs softly as he lets his eyelashes drop, losing the grip of consciousness quickly fading and giving into the promise that sleep holds for him.
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fujii-draws · 2 days
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I’m so sorry to bombard your inbox yet again Fujii but I am losing my mind with homework rn and I must know what your headcanons on Dusknoir’s methods of comforting are🙃cuddling? words of affirmation? acts of service (fixing food or bringing blankets)? I need some escapism and a three month long mental vacation so bad rn fujii it’s absolutely unreal😭😭😭
Ask and you shall recieve!!
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Okay in terms of comforting, Words of affirmation is Dusknoir’s go-to. On one hand, he does have a way with words if we’re both being honest! Main-game he is super clever with how he uses them to gain all of Treasure town/Lake Guardians’ trust. (AND THE ENTIRE, GRASS CONTINENT IF IM NOT MISTAKEN??? THE CHARISMA OF THIS WORLD RENOWNED GHOST.) But on the other hand… very good with his words in terms of being super deceptive, as well as persuasive. So that being said— I feel like he’d be articulate with using his words in a gentle, low growl. It does take awhile for both Ribbons and Aimilios in particular to trust his words again, but once they do, it’s… nice.
That being said— his second form of affection (to me at least) is physical affections. I keep thinking abt how wonderfully you put into that one post where Dusknoir’d give the best hugs, lest he trusts himself first. Very, very strong ghost arms, mixed with a soft, fat belly. He’s actually so perfect for iT—
…He’d be intimate with Grovyle and Celebi, as he would be gentle and soft with Ribbons and Aimilios. (At first because he doesn’t trust himself enough to put any real pressure despite how much the two tell him they’re okay… With him and his touch.)
…But once he’s over that hurdle, he continue’s to treat them so delicately because they are just. So precious and dear to him. And by the rare chance he does— he might cave and hug them very tightly near a close-call death situation, or if one of the kids are in need of comfort.
(He also… may or may not get to a point where he gets too comfortable with it, that the cloaked ghost-type just randomly picks up and carries the grass, fighting/steel, fairy type.) (Which he catches himself, slightly apologizing for being so… clingy. Yet continuing to carry the other three. Whom which allow it.)
(I CANT RLLY SAY CELEBI CAUSE AT THAT POINT HE’D BE YOINKING HER OUT OF THE SKY AND I THINK HE’D BE AWARE OF T H A T AHKFJCOSJAOFJ7) (She probably just joins in whenever Dusknoir is carrying Grovyle specifically, fluttering on his neck ruff, or when all three are being charioted around by the big ghost, with the pink fairy jokingly floating down and adding herself in, much to Dusknoir’s embarrassment.)
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sun-pluto · 4 months
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went to go get acupuncture for my bad knee, the tcm physician just stuck some needles, measured my pulse, and said, “i can tell you have a hot temper.” 🧍🏻‍♀️ lady pls. she even said, “your body is too cold. you need to take it easy! stress is bad for you, slow down.” she became my second mom in 0.2 seconds flat without me needing to tell her anything about my medical conditions like OKAY—
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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i love final fantasy.
#🌙.rambles#like. uh. mostly ffxiv rn i just can't think straight bcs i just love ffxiv too much fuck but#other ffs too 😭😭 i was looking through some of my notes again n. i'm. it. IT MADE ME SO HAPPY#like yk those twt stuff from sqex or wtvr. i love squall n rinoa sm n then tidus n yuna n then#THE REST OF THEM N#n. w ff7 uh. fuck the fanwars just enjoy what you like i hate how ppl put others down. those adults can't even be mature or open-minded#n it's so disappointing but uh that aside! personally. this is for me okay. i just have a certain fondness of ships w aerith#no i don't want to talk abt ships but i didn't want to say this following thing without some context 💀#nah okay here i don't have super strong feelings abt any of those ff7 ships but i do like the charas n the tropes#like. i like the ones w aerith more in general bcs yk she's just. gentle. i like her 🥺 but i relate to tifa quite a lot actually#OH. I DIDN'T MEAN TO RAMBLE ABT THAT WAIT#w tifa just made me rmb along w. smth in shb made me think of hehe. yk w the wol w the uh.. spoilers but smth Bad happens#i'm gna go off-topic again if i talk about emet-selch in those scenes. bro the love he has for azem n hyth n. amaurot n how he#all those. lonely thousand of years n. remembering.. 🥹 n then the honesty w the wol n he#he. hdkafjsdlkf his va's rlly did well w him n the writing made me love him so much his character's so dear to me#wait. i went off-topic again. oh w smth that happens to the wol. like w wol n the tifa can i just have a dream too of like. being saved#like no ultimately i'll save myself but c'monnnn just once 🥺#writing the word once just always reminds me of zack fair damn hdlfkajsdfk one of my favs too hehe#head in hands i'm still so proud of alphi's chara development. n then. yk w thancred n minfilia n ryne.#n that talk w minfilia n ryne. hit. too personal. i remember. oh my god#alr i've just been rambling as i always have but atp i don't know what i'm writing abt anymore help#🥹🫶🏼 just love ffxiv so much fr. like not just ffxiv but yk what i mean. uwahh what a relief to. feel like this again at least#still stressed i just wna get that essay asap tho 😭 but yk it's lovely at least i'm rlly happy i remember again.#ffxiv's always. helped guide me in a way to rmb myself. so. please. please just listen to ffxiv's ost fr.
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sunarc · 5 months
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Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 
“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 
You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.
“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.
Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 
“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”
He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 
His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 
“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?
“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 
“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”
His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 
“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper
“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 
“There she is” he chuckles. 
You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 
“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.
Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 
“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”
He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 
“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 
You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 
“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 
You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 
“It’s too much” you slur.
“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”
Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.
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arminsumi · 7 months
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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
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Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...
Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch
Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works
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Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.
結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか? Yesterday was not a dream after all?
He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.
When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?
今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.
Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.
You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.
"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.
"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."
Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.
You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."
Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."
"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.
彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.
もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.
"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.
"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.
"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."
Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.
"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.
"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"
"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.
"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.
Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.
"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.
So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.
Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."
"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.
"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."
"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.
And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.
He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.
"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.
"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.
You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.
Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.
"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.
"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"
"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."
"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"
"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.
"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.
"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."
"How did she scratch you anyways...?"
"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."
You sympathize, "Poor thing."
"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.
"The cat." you lie teasingly.
"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.
You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.
"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.
"No scratches?" Suguru asks.
"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.
"Fuck you, haha."
Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"
"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.
"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"
Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."
"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.
"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."
"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.
"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.
あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.
"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.
"Thanks."
You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.
"You two are cute." Suguru comments.
"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.
"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."
You awe at what he said.
"?"
"Nothing."
"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"
Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."
And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.
彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか?それともちょっと多すぎますか? Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?
(なんてことだ)、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう? (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?
The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.
But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.
He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.
But you laugh in response to the funny situation.
ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.
"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.
"It's okay." you reply.
The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.
You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.
"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"
"(You're such a virgin.)"
"(Say that again, I dare you.)"
"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"
You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.
So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.
"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."
"Yes...?"
"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."
"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"
"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.
So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.
"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"
"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"
You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...
(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)
"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"
"(Did the cat scratch her?)"
"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.
Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.
"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.
And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.
彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.
He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.
He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.
"Thank you, Satoru."
His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?
"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.
A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.
And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.
You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.
And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.
"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.
His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...
"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.
"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."
"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."
"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.
"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."
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ourautumn86 · 6 months
Text
46-58
abby anderson x fem! reader
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summary; abby loses her match, and when her frustration takes the best of her, she takes it out on you.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, swearing, abby getting mad, harsh treatment, rough sex, name calling (whore, slut), spanking, clit slapping, fingering (r receiving), strap-on sex (r receiving), multiple orgasms, degrading and praising, abby being really rough, breeding kink (😵‍💫), abby uses reader like a toy, hair pulling, making out, finger sucking, cum eating, squirting, use of pet names instead of y/n…
abby was losing. and abby hated losing.
24-39. a 15 point difference.
“fuck!” she hissed, sending the ball flying against a wall, making the other team wince in fear. and who wouldn’t. abby, with her 6,3ft and muscles could make anyone shake in their place.
“anderson!” her coach reprimanded her, and she huffed. you were worried about her. you could clearly see she was frustrated. but at the same time you couldn’t help the way her roughness made you feel. your thighs pressed against the other as you bit down on your lip as you felt your clit throb. why did this turn you on so badly?
you had come to her game to cheer for her, her sweater —with her name on the back— engulfing you and almost hiding your pink skirt. you loved the size difference in between the two of you.
you loved watching abby play, there was something about it, about the way she moved, that made it impossible for you to pull your eyes away from her. she was good. she was the captain for a reason and due to that she always took it personal when the match would go sideways even if it wasn’t her fault. she was too hard on herself.
“referee please!” she yelled, huffing when a player from the other team hit her and yet he didn’t count it as a foul. next time he did indeed called it was when abby did a blockage. “oh come on! are you fucking serious?! i didn’t touch her!” one of her teammates went to her, stopping her on her tracks. “fucking dick…” she muttered, shaking her head. you squirmed when she tossed the ball to the referee a little bit too harsh, winning a warning from her coach. but she was too good, he couldn’t risk to sit her on the bench.
“come on abs, don’t get frustrated, it’s alright.” one of her teammates tried to cheer her up, and then her eyes were on you. her beautiful blue eyes. you trembled.
there were 5 minutes left.
the time was flying by.
30-43
the crowd was roaring, cheering for their respective teams.
“come on abby…” you muttered. she was chugging water, her whole body and strong arms covered in shiny sweat.
she did her best to diminish the point difference, running from side to side of the court and scoring as many points as she could.
but sadly enough, despite her best efforts, they ended up losing.
46-58
the glowing red numbers were like a mock to her face.
she cursed, sitting on the bench with her head in between her hands. her coach made his best to not let it consume her, as so did her teammates, but she was blaming herself. and she was frustrated… furious.
you watched as both teams shook their hands congratulating each other for the game and took their things to leave.
you left the stairs and made your way down to meet with your girlfriend, who didn’t even look at you and simply started walking towards her car, having you following her behind like a lost sad puppy.
she didn’t say a word though the whole way back to your shared apartment, the silence and heavy atmosphere inside the car making your skin crawl.
you watch her muscled back as you made your way inside the apartment, abby harshly leaving her bag on the floor. she could feel her blood boiling, her hands shaking in adrenaline and rage.
“abby.” you called out for her, touching her shoulder, gently. but there was nothing gentle in the way she was now pressing you against the wall, both of your hands on the side of your face.
“shut the fuck up.” she growled, taking your lips in a rough kiss that had your lungs begging for air. “i’m so fucking mad.” she groaned, sucking on your neck, and you whined, feeling one of her legs push up in between your own and against your throbbing cunt. “you know what i need right now, isn’t that right, doll?” you nodded. “yeah, you do. so you’re gonna stay quiet and let me fuck you, hm?” you moaned, nodding once again, feeling heat pooling in between your legs, her voice was low, dangerous. and you couldn’t help but want to satisfy her, to make her feel better. “atta girl.” she went back to kissing you, one hand taking a hold on your wrists to push your hands over your head as the other came down to the seam of her hoodie, pushing it up just to discover that you were wearing nothing underneath. “well would you look at that… you were ready for it, huh?” she chuckled, her free hand pinching one of your nipples, making your back arch and a whimper fall from your lips. “wether i lose or win i was gonna fuck you anyways, so why bother… isn’t that right, doll?” she teased you, grinding her thigh against your clothed and aching cunt. “but we both know that you like it best when i lose, right? you get off by me being mean to you.” her lips latched to your neck, slowly making their way up to your ear. “my girl just needs me to be rough with her, huh?” you shivered, nodding, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. she was right. “fucking answer to me when i speak.” the hand that had been rolling your nipple harshly spanked one of your thighs, making your skin burn and you let out a needy moan.
“yes, abby.” she hummed.
“good girl. now, why don’t you go wait for me in our bed, hm? and take off your clothes, want to see you spread and open for me once i get there.” you nodded, and she let go of your wrists.
you followed her command, getting to your bedroom as you heard the faucet of the bathroom opening. she had probably gone to clean her hands. you quickly got rid of your clothes, letting them aside on the floor before getting in bed, your back against the duvet and your legs spread for her to see your now drooling cunt. you wanted nothing more than to reach out in between them and touch yourself, get some relief. but you knew better. you knew abby wouldn’t like that, so you sat there, waiting for her to come to you.
she didn’t take long.
when she came back she was on her underwear and sports bra. muscles on display and pumped due to the recent exercise. you were drooling.
“look at you.” she shook her head, her eyes on your pretty cunt. her pretty cunt. “open up for me, darling, let me see you.” she said, and you blushed, letting one of your hands trail down in between your thighs, your index and middle finger making contact with your folds to spread them and show your twitching entrance to her. she groaned. “so fucking pretty.” you moaned. “and so wet… you’re soaked, princess. all that ‘cause i’m mean to you? you’re a slut.” your thighs shook at the name, your clit throbbed, awaiting to be touched. “you like it when i take it out on you, baby? when i use you like a little toy?” you nodded, making her need to fuck you bigger. “of course you do. ‘cause that’s all you are, my pretty little toy.” you watched as she made her way to the bed, abs flexing, strong thighs spreading. your back arched when her fingers met your exposed and open pussy, a whimper ripping your throat when she slapped your clit. “you just can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly and harshly pushed two of her thick fingers inside your tight walls. “sucking my fingers right in like the whore you are.”
“abby…!” you whined as she started to fuck them in and out of you. they slid so easily. you were so wet for her. it was embarrassing, how much control she had over you.
“haven’t even started fucking you yet and look at how drenched you are.“ you moaned, your hips rutting against her touch, making her chuckle. “so desperate…”
“please, abby, please… fuck me, please.” you begged.
“want me to fuck you baby? want me to use you?” she inquired and you nodded.
“yes, please. use me. use me.” you pleaded, eyes tearing up. you needed her so badly it hurt. you were so turned on…
she took her fingers out of you, looking at how they shone with your slick before pushing them inside her mouth to taste you. you whimpered as she hummed.
“get on your knees baby, ass up.” she ordered, and you followed, laying with your tummy down against the sheets and your knees holding your ass up, your back arched as your chest rested against the mattress. you knew this was how she liked to have you, with both your holes showing. she relished on your muffled moans and cries against the pillows, how you’d hold the sheets in between your hands for support as she pounded her cock inside of you.
she put on the strap, buckling it around her hips as she stared at your drooling pussy, slick now pooling on your thighs in droplets. she groaned. she couldn’t wait to have you creaming her dick. it was big. around the 7 inches, and purple, with ridges and a great girth.
you gasped when you felt the tip tease your folds, bumping against your clit. abby was using your arousal to lube herself up. you could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your slick folds engulfing her tip, the neediness of your twitching hole to be filled and fucked.
one of her hands took your hip as the other guided the strap to your hole, pushing in in a harsh and quick sudden thrust that had you gripping the sheets and screaming. “thaat’s it. fucking take it.” your breath got punched out of your lungs as she started to fuck you open on it, hitting your g spot with every snap of her hips. “be a good doll and sit pretty for me while i fuck you, hm?” you moaned, feeling your walls squeezing the silicone and sucking it in. her pace quickened, harshly fucking into you as she grunted. your moans were getting cut by each thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to stay up on your legs, although you couldn’t. that’s why abby was there for, grabbing your hips with such strength that will leave the marks of her fingertips on your skin. “fucking shit. pussy so good taking my cock. look at it. fucked open and drooling for more.” you whimpered, your tits bouncing and hardened nipples brushing against the sheets, making your mind feel fuzzy.
you were a babbling and moaning mess, begging for more, pleading for her to take her anger out on you, to fuck you harder, faster.
she groaned, pistoning into you until you were nothing but a body for her to let her frustrations out on. shit. she was fucking your brains out. one of her hands gripped your hair, pushing you against the sheets to keep you in place, abusing you g spot over and over and over again.
“abby!” you screamed, your walls squeezing shut around her cock, your orgasm building up on your lower stomach.
“that’s it baby. louder. let me hear you. who’s cock are you taking, hm? whose pussy is this, huh?” she inquired, and when she didn’t hear and answer she spanked you, making your body jolt.
“yours!!”
“fucking right.” she growled.
“gonna cum!” you cried out.
“yeah? you gonna cum, doll? gonna cream my cock? gonna drip for me?” you nodded. “of course you are. now be good for me and let me have it. let me see you fall apart.”
she didn’t have to ask twice, your orgasm hitting and drowning you like a tidal wave, making your world turn white and your ears ring as your moans became louder and louder.
abby fucked you through it, never backing down and keeping the same intensity, what made your orgasm last what seemed like ages. and when you thought it would die down it just kept growing.
“abby, i’m gonna cum again, i’m gonna, oh fuck!” you cried out, feeling it turn into something else. your thighs soaking wet in your squirt as your back arched, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily…
abby groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way.
“there it is…” she muttered, relishing on the sight, on the sound of the splashing of your juices against her hips and strap. “pussy feeling so good is crying for me.” you took it. took her anger, her frustration… but it was…
“too much! too much!” you begged, one of your hands scratching at her abs as she kept fucking you, but it didn’t stop her, the hand that pressed your head down taking both of your wrists behind your back to pull from you and on her dick. you screamed, feeling her on your cervix, and squirting non stop.
“fucking take it. stop being a fucking baby and take it.” she grunted, feeling her orgasm approaching. “gonna cum so hard. gonna fill you up, princess, fuck a baby into this pretty pussy of yours. gonna leave you dripping for a week, doll.” you whimpered.
“yes, please, cum inside, cum inside! want your cum please, abby please…” you pleaded. and that’s what made it for her.
“look at you. completely cock drunk... yeah? you want it? then take it. fuck. fucking take it.” she groaned, harshly and quickly fucking into you as she hit her peak, watching you squirt like crazy as she came and soaked her boxers. she fucked the two of you through it. by the time she was finished the sheets completely soaked.
she let go of you, your cunt trying to still suck her in, making you whine as she pulled out of you and let go of your wrists, making you fall against the sheets. you were breathless, boneless. she had fucked you completely dumb. your whole body was shaking in exhaustion and the high of your orgasms.
your cum was coating the base of her strap in a white ring, and your cunt shone under the lights of your bedroom, puffy folds reddish and swollen due to her abuse.
it was needless to say that abby wasn’t angry anymore.
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a/n; reader is me while my crush got frustrated playing today 😫🤭
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