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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months

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this is a lil part two for this lil request fic i wrote about katsuki takin' care of a drunk reader ! yall rlly seemed to like it n asked for a part two so, here it is !! hope yall enjoy !

no pronouns mentioned, just pure fluffy katsu, microscopic angst maybe kinda and if you squint HARD (reader gets a little bit upset), soft katsu but he's also an asshat but we love him anyways, mentions of food n eating, mentions of bein drunk, lemme know if i missed sum else !

"ya told me you loved me yesterday."

it's all katsuki utters in the quiet of your apartment as he looks out the window.

you promptly choke on your toast.

you manage to cough down your bread. clearing your throat as you try to speak as naturally as possible. “oh yeah ?”

katsuki grunts in response, taking a sip of his orange juice and smacking his lips before speaking again. still looking at the window and away from you, it makes you nervous. “yeah, thanked me for always takin care of ya, r’something”

katsuki is trying his very hardest to speak casually and he’s praying to every god there is you can’t hear the slight quiver in his voice or see the slight shakiness of his hand when he brings the glass of juice to his lip.

“oh.” your heart beats so loud you can hear it in your ears. you try to salvage the situation and you force out an awkward laugh. “ i mean—i am thankful to you, y’know.”

“ya should be, nobody else could handle takin’ care of your ass.”

“hey !”

you think this is fine. you were drunk and stupid and you’re fine with him brushing off your accidental confession like this if it means it won’t make things awkward. if it means he’ll keep coming over to your house like he owns the place and cook for you because you apparently don’t know how to cook for yourself well enough for his liking. as long as you can keep hanging out with him and going out for drinks and having him take care of you. though, you might not drink as much next time you two go out.

after a minute or two he speaks again “did you mean it ?”

your hand is already reaching for his half bitten piece of toast when you freeze for the second time “did i mean what ?”

katsuki scoffs, smacking your hand away from his toast with two fingers, you let out a little whine “ i know you’re not dumb, so quit actin’ like you are.”

“but i don’t know what you mean !” you inwardly cringe at your dumb response.

“when you said you—“ katsuki cuts himself off with a quiet groan, grabbing his toast and splitting it in half, chucking one of the pieces onto your plate “whatever” he mutters to himself. your heart squeezes when you see the sad frown on his pretty face he doesn’t seem to realize he has.

you don’t know if you’ve still got alcohol in your system, you don’t know if you’ve fully slept it off yet, if you’re fearless or crazy or just plain stupid, but after taking a bite of the toast he’d given you you blurt out something you were sure you would’ve only had the courage to say if you were black out drunk.

“i did.”

katsuki turns to you the moment you finish your sentence, bright red eyes widened as he tries not to let his surprise show, he fails to though. “ you did what ?”

in the back of your mind you want to pout at him because you know he knows what you mean. you know he just wants to hear you say what he wants to hear and it makes you a little grumpy because it’s early in the morning and you don’t look your best at all right now. you’re too embarrassed to even look him in the eye yet his bore into you so hard it feels like a magnetic pull, like you’re being forced to look at him despite your best efforts not to. you want to be at least a little mad but you can’t blame him, you feel like you owe this to him in a way.

“ i did mean it..when i said..” you’re incapable of looking at him as you feel shame creep onto you, clinging onto you like a sweaty shirt, you manage to swallow down the piece of toast“ when i said that.” you trail off quietly.

no sound is made and no voice is heard for at least a minute, but you feel yourself wanting to cry more and more with each second that passes.

you get the courage to look up at him and instantaneously which you never had when you see a smirk on his annoying face.

“that ? that, what ?” he jeers with a grin bordering on evil, sharp teeth on display.

you throw your head back and groan “katsuki, oh my god !” leaning forward across your table you try to pull his nose after you hear him chuckling. he swiftly dodges you, grabbing your wrist and then your other one when you try to pull a fast one on him, unsuccessfully. you grumble as you sit back down and if you weren’t as enamored with him as you somehow ended up being you’d have knocked that stupid smirk off his face. everything seems to be against you, including your heart.

he hums once you’ve sat back down “ooh, you mean when you told me you loved me, right ? s’that what you meant ?” he snickers, shit eating grin on his face. asshole, he’s not even trying to look innocent.

“you’re not funny.” you huff, crossing your arms and glaring at him. “ like, at all.”

“you’re right, i’m not.” he responds, leaning his forearms against your table “ i’m hilarious, actually.”

a part of you wishes you could punch him. hard. another louder part of you just wants to kiss his smug expression off his face, both options sound extremely tempting but one of them more than the other.

“hilariously stupid.” not your best retort, but you’ll take it. katsuki huffs out a laugh as you pout and look off to the side, you’re so fucking cute.

his smirk doesn’t fade as he keeps staring at you but his eyes soften as he leans in to rip your arms away from your chest “ relax, m’just fuckin’ witcha.”

“yeah. haha. funny.” you spit. katsuki starts getting actually worried he’d hurt your feelings and quickly tries redeeming himself. he pokes at your cheek once, twice and you swat his hand away when he goes for a third poke. then he leans forward so he can tickle your side and inwardly sighs in relief when you swat at his hand trying to hold back your laughter. the way he’s leaning against the table is a bit uncomfortable for him but as long as he keeps that warmth on your face he couldn’t care less.

he gets up and grabs his chair, dragging it against the floor causing it to squeak and making you cringe, you let out a noise of displeasure but katsuki doesn't look the least bit phased as he bring his chair to sit next to you.

his cheeks are red, you realize it now that he's sitting so much closer to you. he speaks after a moment of silence "so you meant it, yeah ? when you told me you.." he trails off at the end of his sentence. he's quieter than you're used to. there's a certain hopeful urgency in his eyes that has you shyly nodding your head in response.

he’s looking at you and you’re looking right back

“i meant it.” you whisper.

“i know.” he whispers back after a beat, before pressing his lips to yours.

the kiss lasts about 10 seconds before he pulls away, then leans in again for another, slightly longer one. when you separate your breathing a little heavy. you place your hand on his face and rub his cheek, admiring the way his eyelashes flutter slightly and how the feeling causes shivers to run up his spine. you can't help the goofy smile that pulls at your face and neither can he, you both chuckle slightly.

then you take a breath as if contemplating if what you were about to say was worth it. but katsuki knows you don't care and he's right because you say it anyway.

"we should go out for drinks to celebrate !" you giggle. he playfully rolls his eyes, pinching your side making you let out a squeal.

even though you call it a celebration katsuki knows it'll be the same charade as usual. you'll drink until you pass out and he'll bring you home. he'll help you clean up and take you to bed and have breakfast made for your hungover ass in the morning. but this time, you'll be his. and to katsuki, that's worth so much more than the headache he knows you'll give him.

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juletheghoul · 21 days

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Grown

AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)

Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.

He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too.

“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown.

“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features.

“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?”

“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it.

“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.

“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating.

“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view.

It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it.

“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.

Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out.

Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate.

Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing.

“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand.

“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over.

His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit.

“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him.

“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.

“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.

It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms.

“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness.

He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs.

“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this.

“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap.

“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly.

“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.

“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes.

A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.

“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you.

Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up.

He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance.

“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly.

“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck.

“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit.

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time.

There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him.

He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.

He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward.

This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it.

“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.

“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes.

“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you.

It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity.

“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you.

“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands.

It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was.

“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”

“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up.

“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels.

“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass.

“Bye, Pretty.”

“Bye Joel.”

You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it.

At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it.

An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come.

Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away.

It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic.

After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front.

The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men.

It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.

His hands always shake before it starts.

It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you.

He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back.

“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.

“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it.

It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps.

“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs.

“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.

“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.

“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly.

All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him.

“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.

He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them.

“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent.

“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety.

His body always betrays him.

He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way.

“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you.

His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath.

His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise.

“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway.

“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face.

“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you.

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.

“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly.

He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.

You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body.

You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come.

“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face.

“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now.

“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm.

He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it.

Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self.

“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches.

“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback.

“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.

“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks.

“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest.

“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze.

“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone.

Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time.

Tag list: @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @its-nebuleuse @missladym1981 @inept-the-magnificent @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ladyofmidlo72 @greenvita @honey-on-your-tongue

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #oh joely #joel #joel x you #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #joel x y/n

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crxss01 · 1 year

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Hii can u do a 42 miles fluff fic where his uncle caught a him being soft for us and teases him for it

— My Future

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ miles gets caught by his uncle cuddling you and saying sweet nothings to you while you were asleep.

warnings ✧˖ °fluff, cuddling, cursing, implied murder and kidnapping, mentions of threats, implied on and off relationship, miles being a softy for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ te amo tanto, sabías?: i love you so much, did you know?, desde el momento que te ví: from the moment i saw you, mi princesa: my princess.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i live for soft miles so here you go, i hope you enjoy!

miles ran his hand up and down your back, your head on his chest, one leg thrown on top of his stomach and your arm hugging him close to you. one of his legs was tangled with your other one and his other arm was wrapped around your waist.

he had been whispering things to you the moment he felt your breathing come to a calm and slow pace, your soft breath making him feel butterflies in his stomach. he hated the feeling but he couldn’t help it when he was with you so he became used to it.

everytime he sees you always felt like the first, the moment he saw you he felt those butterflies but at the time he didn’t know what they were because he never had that feeling before. with time he realized what they meant and thought that they would go away when he confessed but life proved him wrong.

“te amo tanto, sabías?” he whispered. “desde el momento que te ví.”

it was love at first sight for him, it was a cliché and he had completely despised that it happened to him but that negative feeling disappeared when he got to know you.

“i thought you were beautiful…” he continued. “that’s why i bothered you.” he let out a quiet chuckled at that.

miles had started to annoy you after the first meeting, not even waiting a day. you sat next to him in class due to assigned seats and he took that as an advantage to make your learning impossible in that class, and was even worse in the hallway where no teacher was looking and stopping him from doing so.

“i would do anything for you,” his hand stopped moving, coming to a stop at the small of your back. “even kill for you.”

it was true, miles had almost beat up a guy to death when the fucker tried to lay his hands on you. if it wasn’t because you were there telling him to stop with tears in your eyes, fear clear in them, he would’ve killed the guy.

he later discovered that the fear wasn’t directed towards him, but because of what would happen to him if he killed someone in public where there were many witnesses, no mask covering his face to protect him from his crime.

“i would even die for you.” his hand continued with his previous movement.

another truth, he remembers that time you were kidnapped by one of his many enemies. it was right after breaking up with you for a fifth time to protect you from his life as the prowler, but it was useless because you were used against him anyway. but even then he gave himself in just to save you, not making a plan because it would put your life in danger, he had been unaware of the plan his uncle had made.

“anything, mi princesa…” he finished, placing a kiss on top of your head.

“you’re a real simp, ain’t you.” he heard his uncle’s voice.

miles looked at his bedroom door, wondering when the hell did his uncle opened the door without him even realizing.

“getting rusty, huh?” his uncle leaned against the frame. “didn’t even notice i was here at all while you were saying all the lovey-dovey shit.”

miles rolled his eyes and spoke, trying hard not to sound embarrassed. “do you need something?”

“nah, just checking on you.” uncle aaron shrugged. “today’s mission was pretty rough, but you seem to be doing just fine.”

“yeah, yeah.” miles dismissed. “whatever.”

his uncle laughed, making sure it was not loud enough to wake you. “i know you’re embarrassed right now, no need to pretend.” he then turned more serious. “if you really care that much about her, make sure she feels the same way, miles. don’t want you getting hurt.”

miles smirked. “she does feel the same.”

“you think so?” uncle aaron raised an eyebrow.

“i know so.”

“if you say so.” his uncle nodded.

“she promised me her future and i promised her mine, so yeah i’m sure.” miles said simply.

“protect her.” his uncle said before closing the door, saying a goodnight.

“i will.”

miles placed another kiss to your head. “always.”

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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since it's currently flooding where i live, i'm gonna request firefighter!marauders or emt!marauders (whatever works) saving reader who is trapped in her house with the flood being past the chest or something

andddddd reader has asthma, if ur okay with that? (i have terrible asthma and it's so so annoying honestly)

anyway, thank you for writing all of these fics of yours! they are all so amazing!!!

(also, can i be 🌼 anon?)

Hi lovely, thanks for letting me do just James for this! And ofc you can be that anon <3

cw: water rescue, asthma attack, I did do research but I feel like this can’t be accurate so sorry about that

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You wait until you hear the boat motors getting close again before you start to crawl out the window.

“There!” you hear someone shout, and you nearly collapse with the relief of not having to use your air to call out. The boat rumbles closer, and then a fireman with sweetheart eyes and a mop of curly hair crushing out from beneath his helmet is reaching for you with both hands.

“Hi, there,” he says, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you the rest of the way out. You brace yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders (his very impressive shoulders, you can’t help but notice, which make you remember how your own clothes are stuck damply to your skin from the chest down). Your lungs burn beneath his hands, no better or worse for his touch. “Is it just you in there?”

“Yeah,” you wheeze. Another firefighter settles one of those aluminum blankets you’re always seeing on TV around your shoulders. “Just me.”

“Alright,” he says, dark eyes growing troubled as he processes your onerous breaths. “Are you okay?”

The pain in your chest worsens as you forcibly expel another breath, dragging in a hasty inhale. “My inhaler got ruined.”

The man’s expression clears just before his brow creases. “You’re having an asthma attack?”

You nod urgently.

“Alright, okay. Come here, let’s sit down.”

He pulls you to the back of the boat, guiding you down onto the rubbery floor while someone else passes him a medical bag. Your knees fold towards your chest automatically, some useless instinct to protect the part of you that’s hurting. It does nothing.

“Have you had asthma attacks before?” he asks you, digging through the bag. Someone starts driving the boat forward. You start to relax when you see him pull out a mask attached to an air compressor, your salvation.

“Yes.”

“Compared to the other attacks you’ve had before, how badly would you rate this one on a scale of one to ten?”

“Six.” You answer without hesitating, familiar with this line of questioning.

“Alright, lovely.” He finishes affixing the hose to the nebulizer, setting the mask to your face and turning on the air compressor. “Just breathe in for me.”

You do. The relief isn’t instant, but it may as well be. You feel heaps better just knowing the medicine is working.

You must look visibly calmer, because the man across from you smiles. It looks at home on his face, and the little crinkles which appear at the corners of his eyes suggest he does it often.

“There we go,” he encourages. You hope your expression conveys the appropriate gratitude as you take the mask from him, holding it to your own face. “I’m James. You were trapped in there for a while, huh?”

You nod, and he laughs at your weary look.

“I’m sorry.” James gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. His face is remarkably cheery for someone who’s been tasked with boating around and rescuing people all day; then again, as a rescuee, you can see the value of a bright spot in the murk left behind by the floor. As soon as you get this mask off, you think you owe him about a million thanks. “I’m sure it’s been really difficult, but we’ve got food here you can have in a bit, and that thermal blanket should help warm you up quickly enough. Just keep breathing into that thing for another few minutes, love, and then we’ll get you all fixed up.”

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

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Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…�� She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.”

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

to be worthy.

and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.

You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking.

Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear.

This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that.

It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi.

Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.

Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be.

“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important.

“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles.

“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?”

“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”

The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about.

“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.”

“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.”

“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”

“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift.

------

Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that.

You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any.

Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up.

“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman.

“Something wrong?” She asked.

“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved.

“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.”

Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.”

“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile.

“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.”

With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend.

“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically.

She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand.

“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”

Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction.

María,

It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.

Love, Solstråle.

By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head.

“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.”

That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was.

“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away.

Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.”

“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.”

Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent.

“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read.

It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading.

Ingrid,

Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it.

Love, Solstråle.

And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.

And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable.

------

You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all.

It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain.

Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices.

Should you have called your mom?

No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer.

Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred.

You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that.

The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards.

Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder.

-------

Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head.

Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal.

And, fuck, she should have called her mom.

She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister.

And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice.

“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing.

“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”

“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.”

“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves.

“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.

Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow.

“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly.

You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister.

Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.

You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested.

Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.

Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought.

You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate.

------

:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.

however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #🍓☀️

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

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firewasabeast · 6 days

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can you do a fic based on the idea that athena and tommy will team up to fly the plane to safety? idk if it doesn't really happen in the show, I'd love a fic version!

disclaimer: I know nothing about planes, nor do I pretend to. we're all just going to smile and nod as we read through this, just like we do when we watch 911. the idea for this fic comes from @mannafromtevan's theory, which is incredible and I hope is true! Also, while looking for the link to this theory, I saw where @bibuckkinard already wrote a fic based on this theory as well. I haven't read it yet, but everything they write is incredible and will definitely be better than this. Anyway, enjoy!

A small aircraft hit the plane. Co-pilot was ejected. The pilot enabled autopilot, but she's unconscious. There's no one to fly the plane!

That was the call that Athena had with air traffic control just after the incident. It had sent more than half of LA's emergency personnel to the nearest airport, the 217 taking lead on the operation.

Everyone was hovered around, listening as Tommy spoke to Athena and tried to get as much information as he could in what little amount of time they had.

“And you said a window was blown out?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. A window and then some.”

“Wide enough for a person to fit through?”

“The co-pilot did.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment. Long enough for Athena to come back over the radio. “Tommy? Are you still there?”

“I'm here, Athena. I'm thinking. Just hang on a sec.”

“Oh, sure,” she answered, the sarcasm in her tone was clear. “I've got nowhere else to be.”

Jameson, a pilot who'd been working with Tommy for nearly five years now, stared at him. He knew that face. “You have an idea.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah, I do.”

“How stupid is it?”

“It has potential.”

“To work?”

Tommy shook his head. “To be the dumbest thing I've ever done.”

*****

“You cannot be serious right now!” Buck exclaimed as Tommy strapped on his gear. The rest of the crew was working on the helicopter behind him, getting it ready to go as quickly as possible. Hen, Chim, and Eddie were there too, standing back while Tommy and Buck spoke.

“It's the best plan we're gonna get. It's the only plan we're gonna get.”

“It's not even a plan! It's a death sentence.”

“Not if I succeed it's not.”

“Tommy-”

“We've done crazier things, Evan. Like flying through a hurricane.”

“Intermittent showers,” Buck corrected. “And I'd say repelling from a helicopter and into a torn apart jet to try and land the thing when half the controls aren't working is a little crazier than flying through bad weather!”

Tommy placed his hands on Buck's shoulders. “Breathe, Evan. The rescue mission was fully approved by all proper authorities.”

“You sure you didn't fake mouth static your way into approval?”

Tommy gave him a look. “There might've been a few omissions. I cannot confirm or deny that though.”

“Tommy.”

“Hey, what's our motto?” he said, looking past Buck and pointing to the rest of the 118.

“Who cares?!” They chanted.

“Me!” Buck exclaimed. “I care!” He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the chopper. “Tommy, please don't-”

Tommy turned on his heels, nearly running straight into Buck as he did so. “Evan,” he started, his voice calm and assured, “If you knew how to fly, you'd already be up there.”

“But-”

“Am I wrong?”

Buck pursed his lips, eying Tommy closely before replying. “No.”

“I've gotta go. I will do my best to make it back to you, Evan. I promise that.”

That was it for Buck. He didn't care who was around. He tugged Tommy by his gear, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Be safe.”

Tommy nodded, giving Buck's hand a squeeze before running to the helicopter. Buck took a deep breath, holding back his tears as he watched them take off.

*****

It took time, and a lot of precision, for Tommy to finally reach the opening of the plane. There were a few close calls along the way, but once Athena had ahold of his legs, he allowed himself to relax a little.

“Good to see you, Athena,” Tommy said with a smile once he had successfully made it inside the plane.

“I'm not sure if good is the correct word to be using right now,” Athena replied. “But I am glad you're here.”

“Happy to be here.” Tommy disconnected himself from all the wiring he was attached to, guiding it back out of the hole so the helicopter could return to base.

Athena moved some debris out of the way, making room for Tommy to sit in pilot's seat. There were lights flashing everywhere, some repetitive beeping from alarms, not to mention the giant hole that was allowing wind to whip through the cockpit.

“What do you think?” Athena asked as he pressed some buttons, his face scrunched up tight.

He flipped a switch on one of the control panels, which caused the entire thing to fall off the dash.

“Well, that's not helpful,” he said, tossing it aside. “So, got any plans this weekend?”

She glared over at him. “Wasn't really thinking that far ahead.”

“I was thinking about taking Evan for a helicopter tour around the city... May be in bad taste now though.”

Athena sat beside him, a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. “Tommy, give it to me straight here. How screwed are we?”

He shrugged, keeping his focus on the controls that were still connected to the plane. “You believe in God?”

“I do.”

“Mind praying for us both then?”

“That bad?”

Before Tommy could respond, his captain's voice was coming over the radio in his helmet. “Give me a rundown, Kinard. What's going on?”

Athena listened as Tommy went through a (very long) list of everything wrong with the plane. He went over controls that were damaged, and the very few that weren't. She heard something about autopilot still working well, and something else about a manual landing, but most of it made no sense to her.

“I'm gonna need you to repeat all of that,” Athena said once he was finished, “but in a way I'll actually understand.”

He glanced over at her briefly, the plane jumping with sudden turbulence. Athena grabbed onto the the broken panel in front of her and Tommy focused his eyes back on the controls. “We're running low on fuel. We're gonna have to try to land after the next turn, and we'll end up dropping pretty fast. Basically, I can land us manually, but I can't promise the breaks will work.”

“That seems like a pretty important part of landing,” she deadpanned.

“I'd definitely say it's a favorite of mine.”

Athena took a deep breath before asking her next question. “And if the breaks don't work? What happens then?”

“There's a very high chance this thing will blow up if we can't stop by the end of the runway.”

“Oh dear God.”

“There is good news though.”

“Hm.” She eyed him skeptically. “What's that?”

“We won't feel a thing.”

“Oh, well, that's a relief. Don't know what I was ever worried about in the first place,” she replied sarcastically. “How much time do we have before you land her?”

“About ten minutes. Intercom system is out, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can you go make sure everyone has their seatbelts fastened?”

Athena headed back to the passengers. Tommy took the moment alone to breathe deeply and steal himself for whatever was about to happen. Part of being a pilot required confidence and, even if he didn't have much of it at the moment, he knew how to play the part.

Fake it til you make it.

He'd done that a lot over the years. It worked in a professional sense, not so much in a personal one.

A couple minutes later, Athena returned. “All buckled in,” she informed him as she went to sit in the co-pilot's seat again.

“It's actually probably better if you sit in the jump seat behind me,” Tommy said.

“Why? So when we explode my arm doesn't knock you upside the head for getting me killed? Nah, I'm good here.”

Tommy smirked. Even after working with Athena on and off for over twenty years, he'd never spent much time with her. The few dinners he and Evan had with her and Bobby didn't give them much time to banter back and forth. He'd have to make sure and change that once they were on solid ground. “Suit yourself.”

“Can I borrow your helmet for a second?” she asked.

“Sure.” He handed it over and she put it on, clearing her throat.

“Can I speak to Hen Wilson from the 118, please?” she asked over the radio.

A few seconds later, Hen was on the line. “I'm here, Athena. You're on an open channel.”

“Hen, Bobby isn't at the airport, is he?”

“No. He's on his way, but he hasn't made it yet. You want me to put him on with you?”

“No, no!” Athena answered quickly. “No. What I need to say, I can say to you.”

Tommy focused on keeping the plane steady while Athena spoke. It felt wrong to listen in to something as personal as a possible goodbye.

He took the time to think about Evan. The short but wonderful time he'd had with him over the past few months. They'd been the best of his life.

He briefly wondered if he should tell Evan that before he attempted to land, but he decided against it. Evan wouldn't need those thoughts running through his head for the rest of his life if they didn't make it out of this.

“Hey,” Athena's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She nudged his shoulder with the helmet. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

Tommy paused before taking the helmet back. “Go for Kinard.”

“Kinard, this is Buckley of the 118.” Tommy smiled at the sound of Evan's voice, even though he could hear it breaking ever so slightly.

“I hear you, Buckley.”

“I just, um, I wanted you to, um. Tommy.” He cleared his throat. “You've got this, okay? We're all down here waiting. N- Not a single doubt.”

“Good to know. No doubts up here either.”

He ignored the raised eyebrow look from Athena.

“Good. Um, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Evan?”

“I love you.” The words escaped him quickly, but with a confidence that wasn't there before.

Tommy smiled, his heart fluttering. He didn't realize he hadn't spoken until Evan's voice came over the radio again.

“T- Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head, blinking to rid himself of the tears in his eyes. “Chschschsch,” he said, bringing back his renowned fake mouth static, thank you very much. Athena stared over at him in confusion. “Sorry, Buckley, you're cutting out on me. You'll have to repeat that last sentence when I'm on the ground, okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan answered, and Tommy was sure there was a faint smile in his voice. “Yeah, o- okay.”

*****

About a minute later, Tommy was in position and ready to land. He got in contact with everyone on the ground, letting them know where and when he'd be landing. They were all getting into position near the runway, ready to help no matter the outcome.

“You ready?” Tommy asked as Athena tightened her seatbelt.

“Let's land this bastard.”

“Coming in for a landing.”

The closer they got to the ground, the shakier things got. Tommy held tightly onto the controls, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes from all the wind coming in through the hole.

They dropped rapidly, just as he expected they would. Athena kept quiet, and Tommy wondered if she was praying.

A part of him hoped she was.

As the runway got closer and closer into view, Tommy could feel every muscle in his body tightening. “Brace yourself,” he said a few seconds before they hit the ground with a thud.

Screams could be heard coming from the passengers, many of them crying or calling out to whatever god they believed in.

“We're going too fast.” Athena watched as they flew past all the emergency vehicles waiting for them.

“We're okay,” Tommy replied. Fake it til you make it.

They started to slow down, but the end of the runway was drawing near and it was becoming clear they would not be able to stop in time.

“Tommy.”

“We're okay,” he repeated, although it sounded more like a demand.

Athena could see the details of the signs at the end of the runway. “Tommy!”

Suddenly, Tommy turned the plane to loop around to the next runway. As he did, the wing hit a sign that flung backwards, eliciting more yells from the passengers.

The plan, or lack thereof, seemed to work. The plane slowed until it came to a stop.

They were alive.

They were actually alive.

Before he even had time to let it fully sink in, Athena was next to him, wrapping him in an unexpected, but very needed, hug.

“You might be clinically insane,” she said, both of them laughing from all the adrenaline coursing through their bodies. “But I'm so damn glad you are.”

“Why don't we get everyone off this plane?” he asked. “Then go see our guys.”

“I like the sound of that.”

*****

Athena and Tommy made sure they were the last ones off the plane. Athena spotted Bobby first. He had apparently arrived just before the landing and saw the whole thing. Tommy watched them reunite as his eyes darted around looking for his own person.

“It's been decided that I have the coolest, most badass boyfriend in the entire world,” a voice said from behind him.

Tommy whipped around to Evan standing there, arms already open wide, a bright smile on his face. Tommy practically fell into him. They held onto one another so tight that Tommy could have sworn they were melding into one.

“I was so worried,” Buck breathed out, his face pressed into Tommy's neck.

“I thought you had no doubts?” Tommy's voice was muffled against Buck's turnouts. He made no effort to move.

“Like you believed that for a second.”

After holding onto each other a little longer, Tommy pulled back just enough to look Buck in the eyes. “If I remember correctly, you were in the middle of telling me something when my radio started to go out,” he said with a smirk on his face.

Buck brought his hands to Tommy's face, his thumbs stroking Tommy's cheeks. “I love you, Tommy,” he said, and that confidence was back in his voice. “I really, really love you.”

“I love you too, Evan.” He pulled Buck in for a kiss, deep and passionate and filled with all the love they'd been keeping to themselves for the last few months.

The sound of a throat clearing had them, reluctantly, separating from one another. Bobby and Athena were walking up behind them, smiles on both of their faces.

“Athena!” Buck exclaimed, immediately going to her for a hug. “Are you okay?”

“All good,” she answered, “thanks to your man.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” Bobby said, bypassing a handshake and going in for a hug. “You saved a lot of lives tonight.”

He took a deep breath. “All part of the job, right?”

“I think you went far above and beyond the job tonight,” Bobby replied. "Probably have another medal in your future."

Buck's proudly returned to Tommy's side, their arms wrapping around each other's waist.

“You've got a good one here, Buck,” Athena said, patting Tommy on the shoulder. “You should keep him.”

Buck smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “That's the plan.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #athena grant #im not sure i love this one #i know i sound like a broken record when i say that but i think i spent too much time with it #that's always a problem for me.

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thelov3lybookworm · 5 months

Text

Journals

Summary: everyone is happy

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: heavyyyy angst, sad lil fic (literally what i named this before i came up with a title), mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm, self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on this and this poetry by @gardenofrunar 🤭 you couldnt tell it was me could you pookie?

also, there is not really a bat boy our reader is supposed to be with, so im tagging this as all three of them. there will most probably not be a second part to this, but still, lemme know hat you all think

AND, im not trying to glorify what reader is going through in this fic. if you are going through something, please talk to someone. you are not alone, my loves ❣️

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

It was happening again.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

And the worst part wasn't the fact that she felt like she was dying.

It was that she was alone. Again.

No one was coming. No one cared. No one would even realise she was gone until it was too late, and maybe that was a miracle.

Click.

The haze cleared slightly, and gasping for breath, Y/n stood, somehow making it to the stairs leading to her bedroom before her lungs constricted again.

She had no other option as she crumbled on the stairs, the hard wood digging into her sides and thighs.

She could not breathe.

She could not think.

She could not move.

She could not breathe.

A cruel laugh broke through her consciousness, the sound so familiar yet so foreign, Y/n could not help but sob.

You deserve this.

Azriel. It was him, no doubt. But the longer she sat there, other voices started joining in.

First Cassian. Then Mor, Rhysand. Amren.

Feyre, Nesta. Elain.

"Stop." She whispered, her hands shaking as she rose them to her ears, pressing as hard as she could. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the clearer the words became.

You deserve this.

You don't deserve us.

It's your own fault.

In an attempt to get away, to get some peace and quiet, she reached out, clutching the stair. The wood grains whispered against her palm, their sound lost to ears filled with taunts and laughter.

Still, she dug in her fingers, her nails screaming in protest, her heart yelling back in a horrific screech, beating loud enough to almost drown out her family.

Almost.

Pulling herself up, she reached out her hand, ignoring the pain as she did her best to haul her dysfunctional body up the hard terrain, trying to make it to her bed before she lost herself fully to the dark depths of her mind, losing all sense of her being.

Somehow, having no recollection of the climb, Y/n collapsed at the landing, her breathing erratic as she stared at the blurry paintings on the wall, gifted to her by Rhysand's mate.

Had they always been this blurry?

In the back of her mind, she realised that they were never blurry. There were just tears in her eyes, but she didn't think too much about that as she crawled forward, miraculously crossing the threshold to her room, the familiar smell of flowers Elain had gifted her last week pulling her out of her misery for a moment, enough to let her get up and stumble into the plush material of her bed before tears again erupted in her eyes.

They then came back, screaming in her ears about how much of a disappointment she was, how she deserved no happiness.

And she agreed with them.

But still, it hurt her heart to hear the people she cared for voice thoughts she only limited to the darkness of night, under the gentle presence of the moonlight.

You don't deserve happiness.

She knew the inevitable onslaught of her self hatred was about to break over her head, knew it was unavoidable and would probably have her moping for days.

Her mind started wandering, which in itself was alarming because as much as she wanted to stop thinking about her miserable life, she knew that any and all thoughts she had at these times would only work against her.

Rhys's tear stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and his quiet sobs as he clutched Y/n's hands between both of his, Y/n's soft cooing as she tried her best to soothe his wounds after his mother and sister's death.

As she held him after his return from under the mountain.

This was going to be a long night, she was sure.

Cassian's grumpy self refusing to eat after one of the Illyrians had again bullied him for not being good enough. Y/n's cheeks aching from how hard she was trying not to smile as she tried to convince the overgrown illyrian to eat something.

Azriel's shaky hands as she held onto him after a particularly bad nightmare that usually started keeping him up around the time his hands were burned, the anniversary o the time where an innocent little boy realised that the world was filled with cruelty.

Y/n being the first one to find out about Mor's liking in women and helping her sneak out to meet her lovers.

Y/n dragging gallons of fresh blood to Amren's apartment under the cover of the night when she knew the ancient being hadn't had the time to feast.

Her hands scrambled to find something to tether herself to, to remind her that this was not real and that it would pass. That her family did love her, and that they would never hurt her or want her to think this way of herself.

They would never hurt her the way she hurt herself.

They just wouldn't... would they?

Rhys's wide smile as he admired his mate while she spoke to a grinning Cassian, who in turn turned to Azriel to tease the blushing Illyrian. Mor, giggling over her glass of wine as she mumbled something to Elain, Nesta and Amren conversing in hushed tones next to the window, happiness shining on both their faces.

And Y/n watched on, huddled in her own little corner as she gulped down another glass of champagne, trying to focus on the burn in her throat as the liquor travelled down. Trying not to think of the way her breathing started coming in shorter pants, her lungs constricting in the too small rib cage that were set on killing her.

Trying to ignore the tang of copper in her mouth as she bit her own tongue, not wanting to speak and draw attention to herself, to ask for help because she was too unused to suffering in silence. Her family had always been there, and she had never had to go even a day without their constant nagging. She always had at least one of them guiding her through the worst of her days.

Trying not to think of how no one even glanced up as she exited the room, tears prickling her eyes, feeling like she was nothing but an intruder, watching from outside the warmth of the house, standing knee deep in the cold snow as she tried her best to keep warm by looking at the happy faces of her family, no matter how much she was freezing on the inside.

Her fingers curled around the lumpy material of her comforter, and she pushed forward, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her warm cheeks and buried her head in the soft fabric.

And then let out the ear piercing scream she had been holding in, uncaring that she had let down the sound shield around her room.

She knew no one was around to hear.

She knew no one would come.

They were all too happy to worry.

Her stomach was grumbling, and she was glad it was because otherwise it would've been the cause for concern, considering she hadn't eaten in almost a day.

She was still so tired and wanted to do nothing but lay in bed all day and cry, but she needed to eat too.

And so here she was, chopping up some vegetables in a daze, not really paying attention despite wanting to focus on something that took her mind off of her thoughts.

It was not easy to stop thinking, so when suddenly the fog in her mind cleared, she glanced down.

The red of her blood was bright, and the longer she stared, the quicker the pain came, but it was only a tiny sting, nothing more than the bite of an ant in the shape of a knife.

She stared, and stared.

And then, she lifted her eyes, her gaze settling on her dagger, unprompted.

She smiled.

Writing was one of the parts of Y/n's responsibilities. Writing a letter to help the relations between the courts. A report for the high lord.

It was one of the things that broke her out of her own mind's torture, one of the things that made her feel like she wasn't entirely useless.

So here she was, just scribbling away senseless words in her journal, knowing she would hide it away before anyone saw it. Saw the blood stains.

For the first time in weeks, she was smiling, no tears to be found in her eyes as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs in the air behind her as she began doodling little flowers in the corner of the page, her inkpot next to her and her dagger in her other hand.

She went to dip in her feather pen in the ink, frowning a little as it created spots of ink on the crumpled paper, mixing with the dark red liquid that still dripped slowly from her fingers, little rivulets running down from her wrist.

As she continued, a tap on her mental walls had her pausing, and after a brief conversation with Rhys, she got up, closing her journal and beginning to clean the cuts on her wrist and around the journal and then donning a flowy, simple white gown.

It wasn't long before a knock sounded at her door, and she hurried to open it to find Cassian standing on her front porch, smiling.

"Hey Y/n, Rhys asked me to pick you up-"

Y/n nodded. "Yes I know, let me just grab my things and then we can go."

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.

She ran up the stairs and to her bedroom, grabbing the little bag she had put all her pens and previous reports into, deciding to carry them with her just in case.

She hurried back out within a few moments, but she saw that Cassian had moved, standing near the gates. Which was suspicious, but not too alarming as she stepped onto the porch.

"Let's go."

Before she shut the door Y/n turned and glanced around the house for the last time. Why, she didn't know. But she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

And she had known to always trust her gut.

But she turned around, locking the door before leaving.

Not realising her journal was missing from the table.

"I really don't want to pressure you too much Y/n, so if you don't want to be a part of this research, I understand-"

"Rhys, this is no burden. I'm actually honoured you even considered me for this project."

His brows furrowed, his smile turning confused. "What are you talking about Y/n? You're one of the smartest people I know. Of course you are included-" he trailed off, his eyes filling with understanding. "How have you been Y/n?"

Y/n blinked, pretending not to understand what he meant by that. Of course Rhys knew she struggled with feeling worthy of her family, and of course he made that connection.

"I've been good, Rhys." Y/n mumbled, an easy grin on her face as if Rhys's concern was ridiculous.

"Have you had any recent episodes-"

"Guess what I found!"

He paused, both their heads turning to where Cassian's booming voice floated through the cracked door.

Y/n's whole body ran cold, and before she could even question the reaction of her body to something that wouldn't have concerned her before, she was stumbling out the door, following Cassian's voice to the sitting room, where everyone else was gathered.

Cassian was grinning as he explained to them how he had gone to pick Y/n's up from her house, and how he found-

Her secret diary.

Y/n's eyes widened, her legs refusing to move as her gaze locked on the book Cassian held in his hand.

"Oh, look, she's here too!" He turned to her, his expression carefree and inviting. "Never knew you had a diary Y/n. What will I find if I read through it? Your secret lover's name? His-"

"Cass." Y/n warned, finally getting herself to move forward as he danced back, his hands beginning to crack open the book.

"Will I find your secret fantasies-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, all the emotions gone from his face as he stared at the page he had opened, his features hard. Y/n waited with bated breath, her head turning to gauge everyone's reaction.

Mor sat with Nyx in her lap, bouncing him as she glanced between Y/n and Cassian. Feyre and Azriel exchanged confused glances before Azriel stood, stalking towards Cass.

Panicked, Y/n jumped forward, but before her hand could wrap around her journal, he pulled away, face pale.

"What is this?"

"None of your business."

Azriel had stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Y/n.

That's when Y/n realised he had smelled the blood she left on the pages.

Damn it.

Y/n stepped back towards the exit as she felt all the eyes on her, panic starting to dig its claws in her gut and begin its ascent up her throat as the shadows curled around Azriel's ear and his eyes went to her wrist, covered by the long sleeves of her dress.

Y/n turned to find Rhys standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.

"Why?"

She glanced once at everyone, tears starting to fill her own eyes, her face flushing in embarrassment, mad that she had started crying over nothing, and pushed past Rhys, running towards the front door.

"Y/n!"

They will be mad.

You deserve it.

Y/n fled the river house, ignoring the concerned looks thrown her way by the people on the streets as she ran straight to her house.

They hate you.

The door slammed shut behind her as she leaned against it, gasping for breath as her lungs started contracting painfully, refusing to let her breathe.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

It was happening again.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @milswrites @berryzxx

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

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kryannoy · 30 days

Text

it slipped out, i'm sorry . . .

genre: fluff

character: xiangli yao

a/n: another fic about him because i am so in love with this man. i am fully aware he is sadly a fictional character 😀

Oh, how you love your boyfriend so much.

He has never raised his voice at you, never raised his hand at you, never even complained about you. He is just so . . . him! So perfect. The man any girl or woman would dreamt of. The man anyone wants as their partner because he treats you like royalty.

So, how? How does one get him to be your lover? And that person in question is you. How did you even hit the jackpot has always been a question you can never answer yourself. It has remained a mystery for as long as you can remember.

There has been a lot of time you look at him, stare at him, observe him and pinch him and yourself to see if this is real or not. And when you pinched him, guess what? He didn't get mad at you.

He flinched from the pain and immediately turned to you to see you pinching yourself as well. He raised his eyebrow and questioned you.

"Wha . . . What was that for?" His voice is gentle as the breeze, full of confusion yet patience.

"I don't think this is real. Yao, my love, can you pinch me so I know this isn't a dream?" You answered.

He chuckles at this. He doesn't need anyone else to keep him entertained after being buried in his research. You were enough. "No, princess. I don't want to hurt you."

You pout at him while playfully crossed your arms. "You saying that isn't helping, y'know?"

The look on his face isn't really worth seeing. You quite regret this action. Somehow, he seems to believe you. Or more likely, ready to apologize for saying something wrong—when clearly he wasn't.

"What is this all about? Is something troubling you? You can just tell me and I will help to the best of my ability."

He did it again! is what you want to say but you don't want to further upset your boyfriend. After all, why would you do that when he never does the same? He doesn't deserve it.

"It's just, I can't believe I have someone like you. No, wait. That sounded wrong. I meant, like, you're so perfect, how did I end up with you? And why did you choose me when there are other girls who are more fitting to be with you. You're so nice and I feel like I haven't done enough."

His heart bloomed. He feels suffocated but in a good way. An amazingly, romantically good way. He never gave a thought that you felt this way. He always thought that you were just as happy as him to be together.

He moves towards you and cups your face in his large hands. His prosthetic hand feels cold on your left cheek but somehow, you still feel the warmth resonating from his touch.

"My beautiful, lovely, sweet, gorgeous queen." He pecks your lips and even from that short kiss makes both of your skin hot, but still, he wasn't going to shy away now. "You are also perfect as is. So, we are perfect for each other. And I don't need anyone else. Got it?"

Oh, his eyes are shining. His smile is beaming. His touch is welcoming. But his distance is killing. He's so close!

At times like these are when you feel so shy around him no matter how many times you both have hugged, cuddled, kissed and such. You still feel butterflies in your stomach like having a school crush. You wonder if he feels the same way.

"And in another few years, we will be married, live together and have ki—"

He stops abruptly before he gets ahead of himself. Well, it's already slipped out anyways.

How else were you going to respond to that?! He just proves himself to be dreamier than before.

"Xiangli Yao . . ." You breath.

He notices you're so stiff and tense, not to mention, how red your face is right now. He better take a step back before you faint.

The proximity is now enough for you to take a breather. He scratches his cheek with his metal finger, looking flustered as you are. He must have felt the same way—the butterflies in his tummy, the blinking eyes, the awkward gesture.

He lightly clears his throat. "M—My apologies, I . . . uh, got ahead of myself. Forget what I said. I wasn't really thinking straight and it slipped out before I knew it."

It makes you much happier now after hearing his words and seeing you're not the only one who can get embarrassed. You're fully aware your boyfriend loves to make plans, even plans for next year, but you didn't know he made plans to be fully committed to you!

How'd you land a guy like him will always be the question.

You couldn't hide your smile anymore as you flung yourself into his arms as if he just put a ring on your finger. "I'll just say it now; I do!"

Xiangli Yao is so glad you couldn't see his face because if he does, he'll most likely malfunction like his robot one time. "I think you need to pinch me, princess. I feel like I'm dreaming."

#wuthering waves #wuthering waves xiangli yao #wuwa #wuwa xiangli yao #xiangli yao fluff #xiangli yao x reader #xiangli yao x rover #xiangli yao

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up

Pairing: Megumi x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you

I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe

Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.

When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.

“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”

Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.

“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to-“

“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”

Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.

“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”

You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.

-Megumi-

Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.

His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.

Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.

Just like his sister.

Just like Gojo-sensei.

Just like everyone else.

It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.

“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”

Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.

No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.

Nothing but emptiness.

Nothing but darkness.

“Megumi.”

Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-

“Megumi.”

Again.

His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-

“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”

“(y/n)?”

That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You’re dead.”

That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.

You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.

“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.

He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…

He opens his eyes.

His gaze finds yours.

Time stands still.

“I missed you, cutie patootie.”

Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”

You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.

“(y/n).”

And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.

“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.

“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.

“(y/n)!”

Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.

“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”

The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.

But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.

“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“

“But I did!”, he screams.

“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”

His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.

“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“

“Stop right there.”

Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.

“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”

Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.

“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.

“I love you.”

The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.

This is a reason to hold on, right?

“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.

“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”

“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”

Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.

“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

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hannieehaee · 8 months

Note

hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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eeunoia · 8 months

Text

ENHYPEN Imagines

insolitus | yjw.

pairings: yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.

word counts: 2k

warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors. (let me know if i missed some)

note: this have a part two. it was not yet ready to be released, but since some anons kept telling me to stop writing then they leave me no choice but to post something. ehe. anyway, i will fix this probably tomorrow since it doesn’t have a picture for this fic. send me asks about what you think about this. love reading your comments and replies. i love you all, please keep safe.

The whole room was quiet. You might think that it was vacant, but there are two persons inside. The defeaning silence almost suffocate the officer sitting at one of the chairs. He sighs trying to lift whatever that heavy feeling he’s having ever since he entered this room.

The bright light gives a full view of the face of 17 year old, Yang Jungwon. At first look he seems to be like a normal guy, but for some reasons Officer Nam gets some odd feeling from this boy.

He draws in a sigh then taps lightly over the table while his other hand grips tightly at the folder he was holding. His eyes darted at the boy whose head hangs low at the moment and hands resting over his lap.

Despite the soft looking face, the officer couldn’t help but to feel chills while looking over his blood stained school uniform. He even have some over his face that already turned into brownish color after drying up over time.

“Okay, let me ask you again.” Office Nam cleared his throat and leaned over the table, the only thing that keeping them apart.

“I already told you, I don’t know who did it or what happened to him.” Jungwon says in a low tone, sticking to the words he said the first time they asked him.

“The blood on your shirt—” he raises his head and his brows folds in a remorseful way.

“I told y-you Sir, I found him and tried to help! His blood got all over me because of that.” Jungwon explains and he looked very convincing. The words he mutters are acceptable, but his eyes looked so blank. The police officer couldn’t point out what’s wrong, but his eyes looked so emotionless.

He kept his lips pursed into a thin line and stared at him straight to his eyes. Usually, kids his age will be in panic and can even broke into tears specially after being involve in a very serious crime. But he is different. Yang Jungwon, despite having the look of remorse and worries—makes him feel very wary. Its very unsettling.

He shuts his eyes for a while then sighs. “Okay, let’s say what you’re saying are true. But we still can’t let you go because you are our only lead to solve this crime.”

He doesn’t exactly know what he expects to happen next, but nothing prepares him for what’s about to unfold in front of him.

“So annoying.” the boy muttered lowly but enough for the officer to hear.

“Excuse me?” he asks just to make sure he heard him right.

From looking so uneasy and worried, Jungwon raises his head then leans his back comfortably over the chair. His forehead relaxed causing for the crease on it to disappear. He tilt his head while staring deadly straight to the police officer.

Shivers came rushing through the police officer’s whole body.

“I did it.” he said it so naturally. Like confessing from stealing a candy.

The corner of his lips lifts up a bit, “I killed him.” he confessed that made the officer sick in the stomach.

His heart felt like it stopped beating, cold sweats showers him and his hand froze at the sudden confession from the boy. He couldn’t properly express his own emotions because of the utter shock. He doesn’t know if it was from how the boy says those horrifying words so naturally or how he doesn’t look even bothered about it that made him like this.

It made the officer think if he’s aware of the crime he just committed. The lack of remorse and guilt are evident through his eyes. Its almost impossible to believe.

“You want to know how I did it?” he licked his lower lip and slightly straighten his back. “I grabbed a bottle and broke it. I used the sharp edges to stab him on his stomach, heart and neck.” he says and a sinister smile made it to his lips.

He leans closer, “And I repeat it again and again and again. Until he basically stopped breathing and died.” he even gave a shoulder shrug and rested his back again on the chair.

“W-Why...” the officer’s lips shakes as he stutter through his own words.

“I just want to.” Jungwon smiles as his eyes still looked dead.

Countless criminals with such horrible crimes had confessed inside this office. But this is the very first time that one actually scared and made Mr. Nam tremble in fear.

Despite all of these, he tried to gather his thoughts and composed himself. His hand slowly went down near his gun, preparing himself to anything that can happen.

“Do you know w-what consequences awaits for you because of what you did?”

Jungwon shrugs his shoulder off. “Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

The way he say every words confidently just makes the atmosphere even heavier. Normally they should be begging to take it easy on them or pleading not guilty for the crime they’re being accounted for.

But this kid...

“You can be jailed.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes you are a minor, but you can still serve juvenile for a few years before we can transfer you to an actual prison.” his jaw clenches together with his fist, trying to make himself look stronger. Well he has to. He’s way older than him, have more built and training. He’s also the adult inside the room so if anything, he should have the upper hand between them, right?

“Oh really?” his tone sounded so monotonous like as if it was the most boring thing he had ever heard that day.

Even before the officer can utter another word, the door to the interrogation room bursted open then revealed a man wearing a neatly ironed suit while carrying a suit case.

Officer Nam’s forehead furrowed hardly and he was about to tell them to go out as he's in the middle of a very confidential case only to be caught off guard.

He starts to wonder why this man is standing there and behind him is their Chief of Police following him like a loyal dog.

The boy didn’t even bothered looking at the newly arrived people. He rolled his eyes looking so bored and tired of this place.

“What do you think my father will feel when he knew I was here for two hours?” Jungwon asks the man that just arrived. His eyes looked dead and bored, tone serious and cold before he slowly stood up from his sit.

His aura was totally different. It was like Jungwon is a scared sheep a while ago that he used to look after, asking him what happened and so on so fort. Then suddenly that very same sheep tears off his sheep skin and revealed his true self. A fox. A predator.

Officer Nam snapped back to his senses and it took him time to realize what’s going on. His shoulder fell along with the hope to serve justice when he looked at one of the greatest lawyers in South Korea bowing at Yang Jungwon like he was so sorry for letting him stay in this interrogation room for too long.

Jungwon smirks looked so sly as he walks away from that room, the Chief even made way and apologizes for the hold. The young boy strides the police station’s hallway like a free man oozing with nothing but pride and power. Like as if he didn’t just do something horrible. As if he didn’t just killed somebody.

“Nam, we need to talk.” their Chief Officer says in a very strict tone while he closes the door behind his back.

Officer Nam kept his mouth shut and tries hard to keep his composure. His jaw clenches along with his fists under the table and his thoughts starts to wander mindlessly.

He doesn’t even need to hear what their Chief officer was about to discuss with him. He’s already aware of it. At this point, all there left is to surrender and just force himself to turn blind eye to this injustice.

After-all, he is nothing up against the Governor’s youngest son, Yang Jungwon.

They said that out of the hundred people you walk across the world, at least 1 of them are a psychopath. They can blend into the society naturally like they’re truly part of it. Like they’re totally normal and not thinking of unaliving someone in the worst way all the time.

Now, to identify that small percentage of the population started to become totally difficult. You can never know which one of the people you interact with are part of them. It can be your neighbor who greets you with big smiles every morning, it can be the traffic officer who helps you cross the street, the taxi driver, the guard by the gates of your school, your teacher or your classmates.

But never in a million chances that you will think that it can be Yang Jungwon. There is no way someone as sweet and perfect as Jungwon can be part of them. No, never. He’s undeniably handsome, from a good family, polite, responsible—president of the student council, top of your class, kind, athletic, talented, have dimples and always talks in the sweetes softest way. If one will have to point someone who is an epitome of an angel, he can be that.

So why are you inside this dark room, cuffed to a steel bar, face drenched with sweat and tears and totally scared for your life after being kidnapped by him? By Yang Jungwon.

You completely blanked out from the series of events that just occured hours ago. You remembered being with (name), arguing about how he’s so controlling and tiring for you. He was shouting at you and grabbing you over your wrist. You are expecting a slap or your hair being pulled by him, but the next thing you knew, he was down on the floor showering over his own blood. Yang Jungwon stands beside you, staring blankly at him while holding a broken bottle he just used to stab your boyfriend to death.

And the moment it finally dawned onto you, you tried to run away from him. It was too late. Jungwon manages to catch you and covered your mouth with this cloth that made you lose consciousness.

A faint creeking sound from the door made you snap back to reality. Your head perks up, eyes a little bit hopeful while heart still beats in an inconsistent pace.

“H-Help.” you tried to say, slightly choking your words because of the shock you’ve just been to.

Lights emits when it cracks open causing for you to squint your eyes slightly. The moment you saw who it was, you gulped and the corner of your eyes burns. Chest rises up and down, feeling suffocated out of fear.

Yang Jungwon stood proudly by the door. The light blue uniform coat was too familiar for you as it was what boys in your school wears almost everyday. He stares without saying anything before he slightly moves his shoulder to take off his blood stained coat.

The person beside him was quick to assist him.

“Did she eat already?” he asks casually, eyes still darted at your direction.

You trembles in fear and stares away from time to time, couldn’t really hold the eye contact longer than five seconds.

“No, young master.”

He rolls his eyes as he looked over the person beside him. Fear reflects his face as he bow his head nervously. Jungwon kept his eyes at him before he sighs and tilts his head to the side. You can almost hear that person’s sigh of relief when Jungwon started walking towards your way.

Fear flows through your system like a water as you try to push yourself near the wall, away from him. When he’s close enough, he crouches down and scanned you from head to toe.

Jungwon could not explain how excited he is as he stare at you. He couldn’t help but to let a small smile shed over his pretty lips, satisfied.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream.” he mumbles, only enough for you to hear. Tears pooled your eyes and they flow continuously to your pretty face.

Jungwon pursed his lips and stretches his hand closer to you. He gently cupped your face and using his thumb, he wiped off your tears. Despite the soft touches he gradually give you, it made you flinch but Jungwon tries to ignore it for the mean time. For now, he still couldn’t handle the thrill of having you here together with him.

“My pretty girl.” he whispers with so much adoration, eyes almost flashing heart shapes as he stares at you.

“Even if you’re crying, you are still gorgeous.” he added that made you feel sick in the stomach.

“D-Don’t touch me.” you finally manages to say as you move your face away from his touch. The smile on Jungwon’s lips fell and his eyes turned dark after what you did.

It quickly sent shivers through your spine, but you try your best not to let him see how terrified you are to him.

As he carefully scan you, he noticed how your body is shaking and his mood switches right away. Its quite fascinating even for you.

“You’re shaking, baby. Are you cold?” he asks sounding so gentle. It was almost like the same Jungwon you see around campus. It was unbelievable.

“Here,” he says after someone handed him a blanket.

He slowly helped you to wrap it over your shoulder. Suddenly, the hunger and the tiredness from resisting for hours kicked in. You have no remaining energy to even resist anymore or to even shove his hand away. Jungwon gets too excited when you let him take care of you. Its not like you have a choice.

“You’re a m-murderer.” it almost came out as a mumble, but when he stops from gently caressing your arm you knew he heard it. He looked at you and you didn’t saw any guilt. None.

“Do you hate me?” he raised his hand from holding your arm to touching your face, he cares it so gently again like you’re a very fragile thing for him.

You kept your mouth shut and just shoot him glares while tears stream down your eyes.

“He’s a terrible boyfriend anyway. He hurts you and he’s so lame.” his eyes follows a tear that escaped your eye and he went to wipe it again.

“Don’t waste your tears for him. I actually did you a favor.” and he brushes hairs stuck at your skin.

“B-By killing him?”

Jungwon pursed his lips and memory of your boyfriend screaming out of pain flashes through him for a while. He almost rolled his eyes at how pathetic he sounded a while ago, but he stopped himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you and so I thought you could use a new boyfriend.” he clenches his jaw and while holding an eye contact, he leans in and placed a soft kiss at your shoulderblades.

He almost lose his mind when he inhaled your familiar scent. The very same scent he grew addicted to. Now, he doesn’t have to settle on watching you from a far and trying to use every reasons he can use just to have a small talk with you. Now, you are here with him and you belong to him. He couldn’t be happier.

You shut your eyes and shake your head slowly, whimpering.

“P-Please just let me g-go.” your voice cracks from screaming and crying too much.

“Don’t worry, I will.” he smiled and you looked at him hopeful.

“R-Really?”

He nods his head, “Once I finally tamed and make you submit to me completely.”

Your stomach churns and hope starting to crumble down once again.

“You are a monster! Y-You will rot in hell.”

Jungwon stood up and stared down at you. His strict, cold eyes sent direct shivers down to your spine. He slides both of his hand inside his pockets while he continues looking at you.

“If that’s the price I have to pay to have you in this lifetime,” he stalls his words and smiles. “I will gladly accept my fate.”

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amhrosina · 1 year

Text

It's Always Been You

Summary: You and Miguel are forced to confront your feelings for one another after a dangerous mission goes awry.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

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a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man ohmygod anyways im overwhelmed by the love being shown for my other miguel fic and cant wait to add more to this community!!! thank you!!! (should i do a part two with smut? like friends to lovers first time?? lemme know <;3)

warnings: friends to lovers, arguing, some angst, love confessions!!!!!, reader calls miguel a name, idiots in love tbh, references to a dangerous situation (but no details i kept it super vague lol), starts to get a little suggestive at the end but is like 99% fluff

Miguel was ignoring you. Not in the usual, self-brooding, grumpy way he sometimes did when he was having a bad day, but in the way that told you he was furious with you. Anger had been radiating off of him in waves since your chaotic return to Nueva York a few hours earlier, and you, along with every other Spider-person at headquarters, was avoiding his workspace like the plague. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to console him, but you knew, probably better than anyone, that when Miguel wanted to brood, he would. You would try again later, and eventually you’d make him laugh, and the world would right itself again. It always did.

Spider-Woman huffed, plopping into the seat next to yours in the cafeteria, slamming her tray down hard enough to knock your tablet on its side. Clearly, she was upset about something.

“Is everyone pissed off today?” You asked indignantly.

She glared at you, shoving a bite of sandwich in her mouth before answering.

“Miguel’s being pissy.” She glared at you. “And it’s your fault.”

“I can’t imagine why. We got the guy, didn’t we?”

“We both know what you did was reckless.” Her glare intensified, and your annoyance shifted to guilt. It was a reckless move, but it worked.

“He was being torn to shreds. I did what any of us would’ve done. If he has a problem, he can come talk to me about it instead of hiding from all of us like a teenager.”

Her gaze softened. “He has a lot on his plate.”

“So?” You combatted, annoyed all over again.

“So, I think maybe what happened today scared him, and he doesn’t know how to process his feelings about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze.

“You’re his best friend, and he almost lost you today. Go talk to him.” She suggested, patting your shoulder. “I think it’ll do everyone some good. And I do mean everyone. He’s scary when he’s mad.”

You shrugged her off, finishing your dinner in silence. If Miguel was so pissed, why couldn’t he come talk to you about it? Why, after years of knowing each other, were you still the one approaching him with an apology? Why couldn’t he just say what he meant for once?

But of course, after you finished your dinner and realized, hopelessly, that the only person you wanted to see was, in fact, Miguel, you huffed and began the trek to his office, where you knew he’d still be brooding.

The tension in the building had lessened after many of the spider-people had returned to their own universes, glad to get away from the uncomfortable elephant in the room, but that didn’t stop your stomach from clenching when you rounded the corner into Miguel’s dim, untidy workspace.

He was hunched over his desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. From your position, you had a clear view of the damage that had been done to his back earlier that day. You winced, thinking back to the few seconds of absolute terror you’d experienced when you’d seen the anomaly tearing into Miguel’s skin. The claw marks had already healed a little, now just raw, nasty looking scratches down the curve of his spine.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, though he had likely heard you coming since you stepped foot out of the cafeteria. Anger flickered in his cold gaze, but he was still here, decidedly not hiding from you, which was a good sign. You stepped into the workspace, setting the extra food you’d bought for him down before fully turning to face him.

“Hey.” You murmured. “Brought you some dinner.”

His gaze flicked from your awkward stance to the box of food on the table. “Thanks.”

Short. Blunt. To the point. You sighed.

“You’re still mad, then?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be mad at the stunt you pulled today?” He glared, standing to his full height and towering over you.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be mad at me for saving your life, asshole.” You looked up at him, refusing to back down.

“I had it under control. It was my anomaly to handle.” His nostrils flared with anger.

You threw your hands up indignantly. “It was our anomaly to handle, and I handled it just fine! In case you don’t remember, I was good enough at handling myself to be recruited by you for this stupid team!”

“What you did was incredibly stupid. The anomaly could have killed you. Don’t you get that?”

“The anomaly was killing you. I did what I thought was best-”

“Exactly. You did what you thought was best and didn’t think once about the team. You risked an entire universe to show off!” He cut you off, slamming his hands on the desk on either side of you, effectively cornering you.

Your voices had risen considerably since your initial arrival, and you were now inches apart, screaming at each other.

“To show off?” You pushed at his enormous chest, vision blurred with a mixture of tears and anger. “I risked an entire universe to protect you, you asshole! Everything I do is to protect you.”

He grabbed your wrists, easily stopping your arms from pushing him again.

“You could have died.” He grunted, squeezing your wrists.

“Why do you even care, Miguel? The anomaly was taken care of, just like it always is. We’ll go take care of another one tomorrow, just like we always do.”

“Because I love you, obviously!” He yelled, releasing his grip on you and taking a full step backwards. Stunned into silence, neither of you said anything for a full ten seconds. He began pacing in front of you, hands on his hips, breathing heavily as the magnitude of what he’d just revealed fully hit him. He paused when he heard you sniffle, and began speaking.

“I love you. Can’t you see that?” He asked, stepping close to you. Tears welled in your eyes, and you couldn’t bear to look up at him for fear that it might be a dream, or worse, a cruel trick of his. “I care because I love you, and I almost lost you. I-” he swallowed thickly, “I almost lost it when I realized what you were doing. And when we couldn’t find you after? That was the worst thirty seconds of my life.” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. “I can’t lose you. Do you understand that? You’re mine. I can’t lose you, baby.”

You finally lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. He tentatively cradled your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that had snuck down your face during his speech.

“I love you, too.” You murmured, nuzzling into his palm. “But you can’t expect me to just watch while you’re being torn to shreds. I had to do something.”

He nodded, though it clearly pained him to agree with you about it. “I know. And I know you can handle yourself. I’m sorry for getting so angry, but you have to understand that your safety is the most important thing to me when we go chasing after anomalies. And I know that it should be saving the universes that we’re in, but it’s not. It’s you, and it’s always been you. Don’t ask me to change that. It will always be you.”

You blinked up at him in stunned silence, nodding. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for Miguel had shifted to something beyond friendly, but you’d never before allowed yourself the fantasy of him loving you in return. It was something you’d come to terms with months ago, accepting that you’d never get to hold him the way he deserved to be held. But now he was standing with you, holding you, begging you to understand that all of his anger has been out of pure, unselfish love for you.

“I won’t ask you to change that.” You conceded, a small grin forming on your face, “As long as you promise to at least try to stay out of harm’s way.”

“I promise, but you know harm seems to seek me out no matter what.” His grin mirrored the one on your face. He shifted his head down, stopping only centimeters away from your lips. “If I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

“That depends.” You breathed, heart thundering in your chest. “Are you going to be this dramatic every time I save your ass, O’Hara?”

He chuckled, cradling your head in his massive hands. “Maybe. Yes. Definitely.”

You shrugged, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Okay.” You bobbed your head once and then leaned in.

He captured your lips in an earth-shattering kiss, exploring every inch of what you offered to him eagerly. His hands roamed the length of your body, pulling you fully against his heated skin. You melted into him, pliable to his every whim and desire, going exactly where he wanted you to go, doing exactly what he wanted you to do. Heat coiled in your entire body, poised to erupt at the slightest touch he offered. You reached forward, tugging at the material around his waist. If he wasn’t inside of you soon, you thought you might explode. His hands wandered below your waistband, too, eager to please.

A loud clunking sound from around the corner had you springing apart, panting, overheated, and completely high off one another’s touch. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to be seen kissing Miguel. In fact, you were planning on kissing him at every moment possible, if he’d let you. It was the fact that you’d very nearly allowed him to strip you naked and have his way with you in his very public office. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, coming to his senses and adjusting the uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants as the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

“Miguel, you’re going to be in an even worse mood if you don’t just go talk to her. I mean, really, you’re both acting like idiots and clearly love each oth- oh!”

Spider-Woman came into view, waving her hands frantically and then doing her very best to hide the smile growing on her face. You shifted your feet awkwardly, trying your best to look like you hadn’t had Miguel’s tongue shoved down your throat ten seconds earlier. Miguel, as stoic and unperturbed as ever, had simply bent down and returned to scribbling on the paper from earlier, which made you involuntarily scowl. He always looked so cool. It was annoying.

“Am I…interrupting something?” Spider-Woman asked, smirking. Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job hiding anything from her.

“What was that you were saying when you came in? Something about my mood?” Miguel asked, lifting his gaze to hers.

“Oh, nothing!” She grinned, turning on her heels and leaving the room as fast as she had entered it.

Miguel looked at you, suddenly shy now that you were alone together again. “Wanna bet how long it’ll be before she spills the beans to someone about us?”

You barked a laugh. “I’ll give you my entire paycheck if she hasn’t announced it to someone already.”

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