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#but god I don't remember the last time I was this relieved
norahastuff · 1 year
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dirtj0b · 1 year
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Holy fuck, the leak flooded my room again, it was horrible, it's like a swamp in there, the carpet is all mushy, but... my mom helped me afford a plumber and this is my first time hearing glorious silence in my own home in more than a year, and the leak is gone, I'll never have to empty the bucket again except this one, final time.......
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request: angst 2/3 - tw trauma
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"How bad?"
You're trying to keep pace with Kyle, who's clocking a break neck speed at your side, mind still reeling, trying to turn everything over, make sense of it all, Orion heavy in your arms, nearly asleep again after you pulled him from his dreams to bring him with you... here.
To the hospital.
Kyle says your name. He says it softly, kindly, and there's sadness in his eyes. "He's tough, he's never not made it through... but he did go to surgery when we landed." Oh god. Your stomach roils.
"Mrs. Riley?" You blink. Nothing in this moment feels real, not the white hallway, the antiseptic smell, the hustle and bustle flowing around you like a rock in a river. The woman in scrubs smiles kindly, and you try to focus on her teeth. Straight. Perfect. "Would you like to see your husband?"
"Yeah..." Orion gurgles in his sleep, and you throw Kyle a desperate look.
"Here," he reaches, pulling him into his chest, "I"ll hang out with big man for a bit. You go on." The tightness in your chest loosens, only a fraction.
"Thank you."
The doctor explains the extent of the damage. Surgery. Broken ribs. His limbs are intact, but he 'rung his bell' pretty hard, resulting in an awful concussion. She stops at the doorway with a sympathetic smile. "He's been out of surgery for a few hours, but is fairly groggy. He was asleep the last time the nurse was in. There's a call button on the wall, ring us if you need anything, okay?" You nod, dumbly. Barely processing. Heart squeezing in your chest.
"Simon, it's okay, it's me, just me." He pulls at the oxygen tubing under his nose, and you tug on his wrist, trying to prevent him from yanking it free. "Hey, hey. You're okay, you're in the hospital." You try to soothe him, calm him, but his eyes are blank, lungs raspy and stuttering, full of panic. It's agony to know he's suffering, he's scared, and you can't fix it. "Simon," you try again, placing a hand on his neck, trying to steer his focus onto yourself, but his lip trembles. The monitors beep wildly, too fast, and you try to settle him.
"No, please." Tears spring to your eyes. Your heart breaks. "Stop, stop, please." His voice fractures, tears shining on his cheeks.
"I'm here." Your fingers find his. "I'm here, you're okay, you're in the hospital." You lean over him, gently pressing your lips to his forehead-
and his arm swings wildly at your chest, shoving you away so forcefully you stumble backwards with a gasp, nearly falling.
The door opens, Price and Soap sprinting into the room, the captain holding Simon by the shoulders as Soap slams the call button.
The next moments pass in a blur. A team files in and sedates him, forces something into his IV as he moans, slurring words together you don't understand.
Your sobs come easily.
Your nose keeps skimming across the top of Orion's head.
He didn't mean it. He wasn't in his right mind.
You repeat it over and over again, trying to engrain it in your soul. It's easy to imagine, where he was in his mind. Pleading not to be touched, something in the moment, you didn't understand. It's so obvious looking back.
"He's awake now." Soap eases himself into the chair next to you, the one you've been in for five hours, eyes wide, free hand gripping a lukewarm tea like a lifeline. "Askin' if ye're here."
"He doesn't remember." It's not a question, but Soap still nods.
"We hav'nae told him yet. Wanted to talk ye first." You take a deep breath.
"Will you... will you take the baby? I don't want..." Soap's gaze softens, deep with sympathy.
"O'course."
"There you are." He's desperately relieved, head turned towards you, eyes wide and eager. You long for him, but your body refuses to budge, feet unable to carry you to his side. "It's okay, mama. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm okay."
"S-Simon." You're on the verge, spiraling, and his head tilts, confused, brows creased.
"C'mere, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm alright." Your heart screams. Wails, pleads and begs, move, step forward, go go go... but your body does not budge. You're frozen. "Hey. What's wrong?" Everything. You should be comforting him, helping him, holding him, but fight or flight is slowly poisoning your mind. He struggles to sit up in the bed, monitors sounding off, faster and faster, same pace as before, worry starting to seize his muscles. "What is it? What... are you okay? Is it the baby?"
"N-no... I-" You want to tell him, but the words evaporate. The only thing you can do is press yourself against the wall. Your knees go weak. Your heart is beating too fast, and you turn dizzy, hands splayed behind you for support.
He says your name. When it fails to get your attention, he says it again, louder, hoarse with worry.
It's all too much.
He's still calling for you as you run out the door.
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫
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Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).
A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰
Masterlist || Bingo Board
When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 
He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 
Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 
All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 
He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 
Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 
Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 
Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 
It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 
You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 
And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 
Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 
Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 
“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 
“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 
“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 
“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 
“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 
She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 
You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 
You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 
How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 
How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 
You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.
“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 
“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 
“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 
“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 
You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 
“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”
Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 
“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 
“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 
“Reid?” 
“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 
“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 
“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 
“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 
“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 
He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 
He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 
He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 
A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 
“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 
“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 
“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 
You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 
“You said to show you-”
“You're not wearing a vest.” 
You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 
He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 
You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 
You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 
Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 
“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”
His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 
“Like this?” 
“A little more… here, let me.” 
You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 
“Try now.” 
Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 
You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.
"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 
“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 
Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 
“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”
He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 
If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 
You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 
Straight into the center of the target. 
“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  
He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 
“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 
“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 
He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 
You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 
Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 
He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.
“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 
“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 
“I'm not-” 
“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 
Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 
That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.
“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 
The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 
He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 
“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 
A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 
Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 
“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 
“What do you need?” 
“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"
He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.
“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 
“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”
You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 
“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 
“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 
Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 
He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 
Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 
Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 
“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
“Good girl.” 
You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 
Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 
“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 
You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 
“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 
He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 
“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 
He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 
“S-Spencer, fuck-” 
“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 
“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 
You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 
“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”
“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 
You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 
With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 
Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 
“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 
You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 
“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 
You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 
You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 
Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 
“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 
“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 
You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 
He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 
“Fuck, more. Please more!” 
He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 
“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 
He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 
Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 
“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 
You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 
With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 
Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 
He kept snapping pictures. 
Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 
He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 
In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 
“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 
It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 
Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 
“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 
Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 
His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 
“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 
He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 
“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 
“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 
“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 
2K notes · View notes
edenesth · 7 months
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The Way to His Heart [19]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.9k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20
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"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.
You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."
Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"
"It's done, my lord."
"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.
"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.
Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."
After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"
Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."
You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."
He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.
Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."
"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."
His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."
Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.
As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.
"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."
With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."
Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."
At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."
His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."
Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"
He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."
You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."
"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Say it for me just one more time."
"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."
Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.
Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"
But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.
As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.
These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."
As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.
He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"
Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."
The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.
You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."
"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"
"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."
"Says you?!"
With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.
Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."
Oh, I know you will.
"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.
"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.
"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.
He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.
Oh god, what do I do?
As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.
With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?
These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.
A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.
With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.
As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.
Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.
"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."
Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.
"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.
Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.
As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.
With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.
"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.
I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.
His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.
Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.
Something was not right.
Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.
"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"
A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.
The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.
"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.
The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."
Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."
The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.
"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.
Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.
Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.
Peace, at last.
But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.
"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."
As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.
I finally found you, my one.
« Preview of Part 20 »
"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.
Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.
Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.
"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.
San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.
"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."
Relief washed over the King's face.
"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.
San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."
"Oh, thank goodness it's over."
After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"
The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.
I'm sorry, my son.
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Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈
As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3
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talaok · 6 months
Note
Okay, so I have a cute idea. Pedro and reader go to a bar and accidentally drink a little more than they wanted to, and now they are walking home together, leaning on one another and giggling the whole way. Maybe they have their first kiss or something. idk, im giving you creative freedom on the last part.
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
a/n: cutest request award
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that last glass of wine had had its effect
Your brain felt lighter, like the crimson liquid had relieved some of the effort from your head
Your vision was fuzzier, unfocused in that familiar way as a soft buzz flowed into your ear
The pavement ahead was still damp with rain, and some water had gotten into your shoes, but you didn't care, you didn't care as you leaned onto Pedro, onto his strong, warm arm, as you looked up at his own glossy eyes, veiled by that sheer cloak of alcohol flowing through his veins
He was still laughing at something you'd said, and you didn't even realize that you were doing the same,
You couldn't even remember what the joke was. Something about... rain or... something
"We're gonna regret this tomorrow" he said, amusement still spilling from his lips
"I'm sure you will, old man" you snorted, hiding your face into his arm to shield from his reaction
"Old man huh?" he chuckled "Is that the way to talk to your elderly?"
"oh please" you snorted, smiling up at him as he feigned offense "I'm sorry sir, that was very rude of me, please forgive me"
The corners of his mouth twitched into a soft grin
"With that smile, I don't think anyone could ever not forgive you, sweetheart"
He did that sometimes, said something sweet that made you forget all about what your lungs were made for
Once again, you shielded your heating face from him by nestling impossibly close to him, feeling his warmth seep into you
He had a body that made hell seem cold
"You're a douchba-"
but before you could speak the very kind words you were about to speak, you had taken a step and found yourself ankle-deep into something that upon closer inspection, was indeed a puddle
You had stepped into a puddle.
Your feet were drenched
You-
You burst out laughing
"oh my god- sugar" Pedro was gripping your arm, bringing you back to dry land as he stifled the need to laugh too
"I-"
You were pretty sure you were about to pee yourself from how hard you were laughing, your eyes were shut close, you had one hand on your face and one on Pedro and then-
and then your feet stopped touching the ground
"Wha-" 
He had picked you up, bridal style, and all you could do was swing your arms around his neck as a reflex "what are you doing?"
"it's clear you're in no condition to walk, so I'm taking matters into my own hands"
And he said it so calmly too, like it was the most obvious thing in the word
"you're taking matters into your own hands?" you mocked, cocking a brow as you bit your bottom lip to try not to laugh
"I am" he nodded,
"You're gonna carry me all the way to the hotel?" you couldn't help but smile now,
smile with amusement and joy and drunkness and... and something else
"What, you think I'm too old for that too?"
You snorted now, your head falling to his chest 
"maybe" you mumbled, your mouth on his steel pecs as you looked up at him
And there was something in that, in all this- not in the fact that he was carrying you like a damsel in distress, not the fact that you were dizzy, not in any of that- there was something in the intimacy of this moment, of the lightness that came with it, how natural it all felt, how... perfect it felt
And he felt it too, you could see in his eyes, that he too had felt time stop, the entire world stop to let you have this moment, this precious instant
"y/n-"
But your lips were already on his, your lips were already on his and nothing mattered anymore as he gripped your shoulder to push you incredibly closer to him, wishing he could engulf you and never let you go, praying for this moment to never end
finally
the only word inside both your heads
finally
He was such a good kisser, his mouth, his beard, his lips, his everything just-
The problem was that he thought the same about you, and maybe if you'd been less of a good kisser, or if only he hadn't spent the last six months fantasizing about this... then maybe he wouldn't have dropped you
"shit-"
Well not really dropped you, he just... forgot to hold your legs, that's all
Only of course, he was there to rescue you as your feet hit the ground, making sure you didn't fall
A soft, honest laugh rumbled from your chest as you dropped your forehead to his
"I'm sorry" he murmured, his hands on your waist "I- I got- distracted"
Again, you could only laugh, this time as he joined
"you got distracted?"
"Yeah" he chuckled
"wanna get distracted again?" you smirked, watching his eyes pan to your lips
"please"
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Text
BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons
I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.
6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore
Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;
Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it
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blackhairedjjun · 8 months
Text
rebound and restoration
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pairing: choi yeonjun x fem reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, friends to lovers, post-breakup, non-idol au; ft. soobin + mentions of the rest of txt; reader is yeonjun's age (soobin calls reader "noona") | word count: 5.4k | warnings: post-breakup heartbreak, profanity, food, kissing
additional note: fic is mostly written but contains a few texts
summary: with his heart still aching after just getting dumped, yeonjun turns to you, one of his closest friends, for comfort. that is, until he kisses you - and your friendship starts to change.
author's notes: honestly i feel like if i don't post this soon i'll be dissatisfied with it forever and edit it endlessly and it'll never get past my drafts LOL perfect is the enemy of done!! anyway i wrote this while i was feeling stressed and insane during the holidays and wanted... an angsty kiss for whatever reason. lmao yeah
(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)
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when yeonjun arrives at your apartment, it’s still early in the evening; the two bowls of pho you ordered for takeout are still hot, and you’ve left your laptop open at a selection of cheesy netflix rom-coms. perhaps the selection is a bit ironic, but you mused that the feel-good escapism is just what he needs.
he pulls you into a hug and you give him an extra squeeze and a few pats on the back. you can’t help but ruffle his hair a little as he pulls away. 
“hey, jjun...”
“y/n!”
“how are you feeling?”
“ah, a bit better, i think.”
he gives you a slight smile, and you’re too relieved to notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. it’s a miracle to you that he’s even smiling again two weeks after his breakup. you still remember the cracks in his voice when he called you after it had happened, the rims of his eyes red with crying when he finally crashed at your place half an hour later. that night you held him tight as he told the story to you in between sobs: hana had broken up with him over a call that lasted less than a minute. she was bored and tired of him and just stopped caring, she said, if he were a toy she could throw away if she didn’t want to play with it anymore.
you swallowed back the anger in your throat back then, though you couldn’t help the tears of your own that fell. now you push the anger back down again as you lead yeonjun to the small table at your kitchenette, one of the bowls of pho steaming in front of him. now is not the time for indignation; your friend needed comfort, and it’s comfort you will give.
yeonjun’s eyes light up at the sight of the pho. your heart swells, and you don’t hold it against him when he sits down ahead of you and picks up his chopsticks, ready to dig in. in between slurps he grins like he’s just received the best present of his life. “this is so good!” he said in between mouthfuls of noodles. “it’s been way too long since i had this.”
“i know! feels like we haven’t had this in ages.”
“remember when we tried to make our own?”
“oh god, not that!” you laugh, dropping your chopsticks. “we got impatient and that broth tasted like nothing.”
“your kitchen smelled like ginger though,” yeonjun recalls with a giggle. “it was nice visiting for a while.”
“my kitchen smelled like ginger more than the actual broth, jjun.”
“maybe we can try again one of these days? and if we mess up, at least you’ll have a nice-smelling kitchen again.”
all you can do in response is laugh, and for a moment you forget that you stopped having pho nights together when hana entered his life.
he fills you in on video game night with soobin and kai, shopping with beomgyu, and his so-called revenge gym day with taehyun; he beams with pride while describing his new weight record just as much as he does when talking about managing a hard-earned victory over soobin at tekken. you laugh along with him, knowing that his friends blocked out their schedules just to comfort him for a day. and when you talk about your new project at work and the new books you bought yourself as a treat, his eyes fill with that indescribable look you’ve seen before. you can’t quite place what it is, but it reminds you of afternoon light, of summer days, of lingering hugs after a long day together.
you don’t need to ask for yeonjun to help you clear out the table and pick up the snacks you set aside for your movie, and you make no effort to resist. there are no words exchanged: he simply places all the disposable pho bowls and chopsticks together, and you reach for a clean garbage bag and put them all in. the only communication between you is a shared look and a nod.
perhaps it’s just your imagination, but that look lingers a little longer than you’re used to, and you can’t help but give him a satisfied smile.
you’ve seen him look at hana that way, too many times to count, especially during that early-dating phase when the thrill of emotions was still high. you wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, for yeonjun to look at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. and you wondered if hana really was that precious 一 if she were just as precious to him as you, his best friend, if not more so.
you let yeonjun select the movie. at first you doubt your idea to present him with rom-coms, of all things, but you let out a sigh of relief when he happily chooses one of them. both of you have seen this one many times over, but you don’t mind. there’s comfort in knowing that a happy ending is guaranteed to happen.
the two of you are slouched on your couch together, the laptop balanced on a pillow between the both of you. yeonjun sits close to you, an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that he hasn’t done with you since he started dating. you let yourself lean against him (so that you can see the screen better, you tell yourself). the two of you start a running commentary on the movie 一 “why would he say that?!” “aww, they look so cute together,” “oh god, that was so stupid!” 一 and both of your laughter fills the apartment, the sound like a duet in harmony.
it’s so easy this way, you think 一 just you and your best friend in your own little corner of the world. you steal a glance at yeonjun while he’s absorbed in the final confession scene, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes gleaming with anticipation for the big kiss. a string of memories flash before you before you can help yourself.
“she said yes,” he says, his whole face flush with excitement. “she said she’ll be mine.”
his hands are on your shoulders and he gives them a gentle squeeze. “there’s no way hana can’t like you. you’re one of my best friends, i’ll make sure you get along.”
“i think hana’s mad at me,” he tells you as he fiddles with the beanie in his hands. “but don’t worry about it, we’ll talk it out, i promise.”
his head is in his hands as you sit across him from a restaurant booth. “i don’t know what i did wrong, she looked so bored through the whole date...”
you hold him close as he sobs in your arms, his whole body shaking. “sh-she said she’s... tired of me…”
“y/n?”
you snap back to reality as yeonjun glances at you, his head tilted. the ending credits of the movie have started to play. “are you okay?”
“i-i’m fine.” you reach out to touch his cheek, then hesitate. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine, y/n.” he picks up on the meaning of your words. “i know i looked really bad that night, but i’m getting better, i promise.”
“good.” your eyes meet his, and your cheeks grow warm. “we can have nights like this as many times as you want until you feel better, okay?”
“yeah, i know. i missed having nights like this, actually.”
“me too. i really liked it when we did this all the time...”
“i know. i’m sorry. hana didn’t like一”
“hey.” your hand comes up again and this time, you gently hold on to his cheek. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks anymore.”
“y/n... i’m really sorry. i feel like i neglected you, and you’ve been my friend for so long...”
tears form in his eyes, and you feel them warm against his cheek. you wipe them away with your thumb as you move closer to him. he continues to ramble as you do.
“i feel like an idiot. like a total dumbass.” the pitch of his voice begins to rise. “god, i was so convinced that hana and i were the perfect couple, that we’d be happy. i-i thought about her more than she d-did about me, y/n, and i stopped hanging out with you一 when you’ve always一”
“jjun, please don’t apologize anymore,” you say, your voice trembling. “i’ve never been mad at you over her, not even once. i just want you to feel better, okay? i... i just want to see you be yourself again.”
you want to see the yeonjun you’ve always loved.
you’ve lain awake at night wondering if he’s ever sensed your feelings for him, and if he’s ever felt the same way. on the day he told you that he and hana were officially together, you spent that night sobbing in your bed, convinced that your friend would never see you as a lover. and yet you said nothing of that night, and of other nights similar to it, because you told yourself that if hana made him happy, then you would be happy too.
and now you want more than anything to see him happy again.
yeonjun says nothing, but instead places a hand on top of the one you have resting on his cheek. you feel it trembling, but you don’t resist as he grasps your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. he swallows hard to push back the rest of his tears, and his eyes soften. once again there’s that indescribable look of his that makes you feel light.
“y/n...”
he says your name softly, as if in reverence. his face inches closer to yours and you don’t pull away; instead you feel lighter than ever, your gaze falling to his lips as your eyes flutter shut. everything that follows feels slow, gentle; his nose brushing against yours, then your lips on his.
he kisses you slowly at first, but as you kiss him back you fill with a new fervor, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him wrap his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his. warmth blooms in your chest, and every movement of yours betrays your feeling: your lips moving against his, your hands making their way into his hair. you want to kiss him until the pain he feels has been replaced by the love you have for him 一 i love you, i love you, i love you.
you’re completely absorbed in him and let out a soft sigh when yeonjun snaps out of it 一 he breaks apart from you, breathing hard, eyes wide as he’s hit by what he’s just done.
“shit, y/n一” he gets off the couch, one hand running through his hair over and over again. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i shouldn’t have done that一”
you’re snapped out of your trance as you stand up to chase after him. “jjun, hey, wait! listen to me—”
he’s picking up his bag from the foot of your couch. he can’t even look at you, instead occasionally letting out a shit or two under his breath.
“yeonjun, please一”
you stand in front of him to block his way from the exit. at first his head is bowed, avoiding your gaze, but when he finally looks up his expression is solemn.
“you are not a rebound to me,” he says at last. “please don’t ever think that i just used you to make me feel better.”
“i never accused you of that! look, i’m sorry too, it was my fa一”
“i’m really sorry, but i can’t stay here anymore. i’ll make it up to you, y/n, i promise.”
“wait一”
yeonjun walks past you and before you can protest any further, he’s out your door. you push it open and try to chase after him, but after a few steps you stop, thinking better of it. what would stopping him even do?
you walk back inside and slump back down on the couch. the screen of your laptop faintly glows, and a half-eaten bag of chips has fallen to the floor. all at once the reality of what happens sinks into you: the kiss, his words, his departure.
you are not a rebound to me. the words echo in your mind.
a strange tension fills you, and you can’t even tell what emotion it’s supposed to be from: confusion, frustration, anxiety. with your whole body seemingly on edge, you grab a throw pillow from the opposite side of your couch and press it into your face.
you sob into it the tension crashes down on you in full force.
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for the next few nights the scene replays in your dreams: yeonjun leaning in ever closer towards you, your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss 一 each night’s dream-kiss more fervent than the last 一 and him suddenly pulling away. you awaken each time just as he breaks the kiss, the shock and confusion coursing through you again, and immediately after you reach for your bedside table to check your phone.
still no text from yeonjun.
you consider texting him again, but each time you type a new message you erase it, the blinking cursor driving you mad. how would you even know what to say? do you want to apologize? to beg for his forgiveness? to ask if you can still be friends?
you hate to admit it, but every morning you lie in bed for a few moments more to allow the dream to sink in. the look on yeonjun’s face appears vivid to you, from his eyes blown wide to his mouth slightly agape. your mind travels back to the moment he breaks the kiss, as if a sudden force pushed him away, the shock of it hitting you. then it wanders to the kiss itself, the feeling of his lips soft against your own, his arms warm as they hold you by the waist…
you shake the memory away, drag yourself out of bed, and continue on with your routine: breakfast, shower, get dressed. you resist the urge to check your phone for as long as you can. you stare at the little contact photo you set of yeonjun and remind yourself: you’re his friend. you need to help him heal. 
you recount your worries to soobin over snacks one day.
“i feel like i’m being selfish,” you say in between munches of potato chips. “he hasn’t even moved on from hana”— soobin winces at the acridity you mutter her name with—“and now one of his closest friends kisses him like she’s madly in love. how is he supposed to move on? he’s hurting enough as it is.”
soobin sets aside the bag of chips you just finished. he rubs his face with his hands as he tries to choose his words carefully.
“you’re not being selfish, noona. you sound like you’re trying to be careful so that you don’t hurt him,” he says at last. “and yeonjun hyung feels just as bad about it. he feels bad that he even started the kiss, and for making you feel like a rebound. you two sound like each other, to be honest.”
“i know he feels bad, it’s just 一 i don’t know how that will fix...” you wave your hands wildly in the air, “this.”
“you can start by talking to each other?”
“he didn’t reply to my last texts. and i… i don’t know if i should text him again.”
a moment of silence. soobin opens a pack of candy and chews on it, just to give himself time to think. he fiddles with his phone as he does, absentmindedly scrolling through his old texts, when one of them catches his eye.
“so, there’s this new restaurant that beomgyu wants to check out.”
“really, soobin, what does this have to—”
“he was thinking of inviting all of us there to hang out,” he continues. “including you and yeonjun hyung. we can plan for it a week or two from now so that you have space? and then you can get used to talking to him again there. if things get awkward, i can ask beomgyu to fill in.”
you purse your lips. “i dunno, i might cry if i see his face again.”
“if you don’t feel like it, just call in sick.” soobin’s mouth twitches into a small grin as he says it — you know he’s used that excuse to get away from social situations he doesn’t want to be in. now you’re starting to see the appeal of it.
“okay. i’ll think about it.”
ultimately you do decide to go, and two weeks later you’re the first to arrive at the restaurant. you can feel your hands trembling as you push the door open and your heart hammering in your chest. in your head you’ve prepared what you want to say to yeonjun and you mentally rehearse your words for the hundredth time.
you slide right into the booth and take a deep breath. you check your phone to keep yourself busy, letting yourself calm down until your hands have stopped shaking. as you’re scrolling through your camera roll looking at some memes beomgyu sent you, someone slides into the booth seat opposite yours.
“hey, y/n.”
yeonjun gives you a shy smile and the nervousness in your stomach kicks into overdrive. he looks much better now; the bags under his eyes have lessened, and his smile seems genuine. still, you can’t help but remember the last time you saw him, and you shudder.
he sees your reaction and winces, averting his gaze. when he speaks, his voice is soft. “y/n... are we okay?”
the question breaks you and whatever words you have prepared fly out of your mind. as you try to grasp at them again, tears prick at your eyes.. “yeah... yeah, we’re okay,” you say. you take a gulp of water to hold back the tears. “i was never mad at you, jjun, i’ve been worried out of my mind一”
“i’m sorry i never replied to your texts.” he places his hands atop your trembling ones. “i just felt so ashamed that i didn’t know how to face you.”
“and i’m sorry i never tried texting you again, i just didn’t know what you thought of me, and i was so scared that i lost you...”
“i was so scared that i lost you.”
you sniffle. “that makes both of us then. god, we were so stupid.”
“i missed you, y/n.”
“i missed you too, jjun.”
you let out a laugh of relief and he laughs too. with the sound of his laughter melding with yours, everything else seems to melt away: the tears in your eyes, the other noises of the restaurant, the baggage of the last two weeks. sitting before you is your old friend, holding onto your hand to comfort you, laughing together with you just like you always have. 
and just as always, you want nothing more than for your friend to be happy.
“so,” you begin, giving him the most reassuring smile that you can muster, “let’s start over?”
yeonjun glances down at the table, but you can see his eyes crinkling as they usually do when he smiles. “yeah, let’s do that.”
when beomgyu enters the restaurant right afterwards, all it takes is one glance at the scene before him to understand what happened. he turns his head towards you, meeting your gaze, and you give him a nod.
it’s going to be okay.
the kiss becomes an unspoken part of your history together, never mentioned and never acknowledged. you stop searching for hidden meanings to it, and instead settle on the explanation that it was simply a spur-of-the-moment reaction from pent-up post-breakup emotions. it doesn’t matter to you whether or not this explanation is true; it’s the explanation that gives you the most peace of mind, and that’s what matters. as the days pass, you think of it less and less, and eventually it is filed away in your memory, like a book never checked out of the library collecting dust. 
in the meantime, you pour your energy into rebuilding both your friendship with yeonjun as well as his fragile heart. the first few hangouts with just the two of you are awkward with a tinge of melancholy, with conversations feeling a little too short. fortunately, your shared friends are there to help: you and yeonjun are invited to video game nights at soobin’s, or a cute new cafe that kai wants to check out, or just a walk around the park. the silences feel less awkward when it’s quickly filled by a joke from beomgyu or witty remark from taehyun.
from time to time you see the shine in yeonjun’s eyes disappear, even for just a moment, when he encounters something that reminds him of “the ‘h’ word” (as beomgyu refers to her): a park bench where they had a date, or a dress on a passerby that looks a lot like something she would wear. sometimes one of his friends would recognize it and quickly divert his attention elsewhere. soon those diversions occur less and less often as fewer and fewer things remind yeonjun of her.
but things don’t truly feel normal to you until a month and a half later. your project at work has gone well, and yeonjun has completed the first draft of a mixtape he’s making. just as you muse to yourself that a reward would be nice, your phone buzzes.
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that afternoon you and yeonjun stroll down the shopping district a few minutes away from his house, trying on this and that. it isn’t long before you find yourself spending over your budget; it’s hard not to when yeonjun is constantly egging you to buy something you really want. “c’mon, y/n,” he whines as you put back another cute button-down on the rack. “you deserve it! you can wear it to work for the next phase of your project!”
he giggles when he sees your eyes light up at his words. “we do have another presentation for it,” you muse.
still, you draw the line when you spot an elegant tan jacket worn by one of the storefront mannequins. you stare at it longingly as if you’ve found your soulmate, and yeonjun sweet-talks you into entering the shop and trying it on. but when you see the hefty price tag on it, you sigh.
“i can’t justify this, jjun…”
“but you look great in it! and you want it so much. you’ll feel worse if you don’t get it.”
“maybe…” you glance down at the shopping bags in your hand. “i dunno, i’ve spent so much already.”
you sigh in defeat and turn back to the store exit before you can second-guess yourself. yeonjun doesn’t follow immediately, but instead watches you go as he lingers a bit longer.
later that day, the two of you sort through all the things you bought (mostly clothes and accessories, but also a vinyl for yeonjun and a novel for yourself) in between giggles and wide eyes and a shower of compliments. yeonjun puts on a completely new outfit for you and struts down his apartment like a runway model, and he pulls you up from the floor to do the same. soon you’re laughing and clapping at each other’s performances, and yeonjun even whips out his phone to take photos of each other’s best looks.
as you rummage through your haul for one more outfit to assemble, your eyes land on a familiar spot of tan fabric. your mouth falls open when you pull it out and see that jacket — the one you’re pretty sure you didn’t buy. you glance up at yeonjun and he licks his lips before forming a mischievous grin.
“jjun, is this...”
“it’s yours.”
“you didn’t have to一”
“i saw the way you were looking at it, y/n. i just had to get it for you. c’mon, put it on.”
hesitantly, you take off the jacket you’re already wearing and put on the new one. it fits perfectly, just a little loose to let air flow in, and you love how it frames your figure. yeonjun is still smiling at you, but it’s a different smile. he looks at you as if you’ve transformed in front of him.
“you look really pretty,” he says. “let me take a few pics, okay?”
he snaps a few photos of you and you pose for the camera, and a comforting warmth settles over you. if this happened a few months earlier, you would have blushed and your heart would be doing somersaults, but now all you feel is a light flutter. everything feels fit in, like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place.
you lock eyes with yeonjun as he takes the last photo and puts his phone away. as you whisper “thank you” to him, the gleam in his eyes is reflected in your own. there it is, that indecipherable look of his that makes you feel warm.
you still love him 一 there’s a part of you that still knows that. but over the last month and a half you’ve simply learned to live with your feelings, letting them fill you with lightness for a few moments and then letting them go. feelings or not, you’re just glad to have yeonjun in your life again. even as a friend, his presence is a soothing balm against the stresses of life.
months later, yeonjun is sprawled on your couch again, his head on your shoulder as you scroll through your list of rom-coms on your laptop. at one point the two of you resumed your pho and rom-com nights, and you’re glad for it; few things give you as much comfort after a long week of work.
after scrolling back and forth a few times, you pause on the same movie you’ve always watched together and give him a quick look. he simply smiles.
“don’t you get sick of this one?” you ask.
“not really, the ending always feels nice. are you… tired of it?”
“no no, i— i was worried that you’re tired of it.”
“me? never.”
“perfect, ‘cause i’m not either.” you give him a knowing grin and press play.
at this point you both know this movie so well that you recite along to every line. you do the female lead’s lines, yeonjun does the male lead’s, and you even sing along to the soundtrack. yeonjun stretches out on your couch even more, his head ending up in your lap, and in the movie’s quiet moments you find yourself playing with his hair. when the big confession happens you can feel him holding his breath and then releasing it in a laugh when the two leads finally kiss.
the credits roll and he glances up at you, smiling in satisfaction. you smile too and hum along to the end credits song. as the movie ends, you let yourself bask in it: you stretch out your arms, yeonjun sits up to lean on your shoulder again, and you lay your head atop his. the two of you remain like that for a while, sitting in comfortable silence.
“don’t you ever get jealous of them?” you ask.
you feel his head shake a bit as he chuckles. “i hate to admit it, but yeah. rom-coms always make getting together look so... fun.”
“right? i wish my life was like that.”
“god, me too.”
“i swear, it drives me insane,” you huff. “every time i watch this i want to start dating again or something.”
a few more moments of silence. yeonjun lets out a soft exhale and you feel his body grow tense. the air in your apartment seems stuffier.
“speaking of which, i have to tell you something.” 
“me...?”
you’ve never heard yeonjun sound so solemn. his head weighs down on your shoulder. “y’know, i’ve been uh... thinking of dating again.”
“oh... where are you dating this time? did beomgyu set you up again?”
he shakes his head, looks up at you for a split second, then looks down at his hands. you see the tips of his ears turn pink.
“actually, i... i have someone mind. someone i want to ask out, i mean.”
with those words the feelings you’ve brushed aside for so long come back in full force. your heart beats so hard it feels like it’s slamming into your chest. when you speak, your voice shakes.
“oh... who’s the lucky one?”
“i-i’ve known her for a while. she’s sweet and fun to be around... we’ve been hanging out a lot more often these last few months. we get along really well, at least i think we do...”
“sounds like you have chemistry with this special girl,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue. the hammering of your heart floods your ears. “so what’s stopping you from asking her out?”
yeonjun sits up to face you fully. you sense the effort it takes for him to look at you 一 has he ever been like this around you before? 一 and you reach for his hands. they’re trembling, and his ears go from pink to red.
“a long time ago,” he starts, voice shaking, “i kissed her. i kissed her after my last breakup. and i wasn’t thinking straight, i was just so lonely that i wanted to be loved again 一 but i can’t do that to yo— to her, she’s one of my best friends, i don’t want yo— her to be a rebound 一 but then you said we could start over so we did and i dunno, at one point i started liking you, i fell so hard i don’t know wh一”
you interrupt him with a kiss, your lips gentle on his. you feel him kissing you back, his movements gentle as his hand comes up to hold your head in place. you find yourself pressed against him and he’s even warmer than you remember, warmer than those dreams you had so many months ago.
when you break apart, his eyes are glazed over in a look of pure admiration. 
“y/n...”
“jjun, i...” heat spreads across your face. “i’ve loved you for years.”
“then why didn’t you say anything?”
“how could i? what if you didn’t feel that way and it ruined our friendship? and with all the other guys too?” your heart is still beating fast but you let out the words while your boldness still has a hold on you. “and then you dated hana and i cried but i wanted you to be happy 一 then you broke up and you kissed me and i liked it, and i hated myself for liking it because you were 一”
yeonjun pulls you into him, arms encircling you, and as you keep rambling into his chest he soothes you with one hand combing through your hair. his other arm grips you firmly, and your own arms find a firm hold around his neck.
“i love you too, y/n,” he whispers into your hair before leaving a kiss there. “it’s okay.”
“i love you, so much...”
he pulls apart to get a good look at your face. as he sees a few tears start to roll down your cheeks, he brushes them aside with his thumb.
“so this girl,” he says, affection lacing his words, “after we kissed, she said we could start over. and we did. and i’m really glad we did, because i fell for h一 for you so hard.”
you lean your head forward so that your forehead touches his. “really?”
“really. and i...”
“do you want to kiss her again?”
yeonjun’s breath hitches and his eyes meet yours. there it is 一 that same look of his that makes you feel light. the one that, you realize, makes you feel loved.
“can i?”
“please,” you whisper.
he closes the gap between your lips and his, and this time you feel only relief and bliss.
667 notes · View notes
kirikeijii · 2 months
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𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠
Tsukishima x reader
Synopsis: Imagine this but it's you!
cw: fluff, not proofread
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Somehow you tutored Tsukishima Kei, the smartest guy in your class with an average of 98.84 last year. You were always a helpful child, you'd teach anyone your teacher recommended but when you heard his name come out of your advisor's mouth. You were absolutely shocked. "The Tsukishima Kei needs tutoring?"
"Yes. . ." She said sitting on her seat slowly. Your advisor was very awkward with it. You then looked behind you with furrowed eyebrows to see the blonde sitting on a chair with a smile on his face. That smug look you sometimes hated. Well, you know how there's a thin line between love and hate?
Yeah, you were tiptoeing on top of that rope. Sometimes you felt like he'd actually be fun to hang out with. You felt like his close friend could rant to him and he would listen intently while giving advice. You just felt like he could be a vulnerable person if he wasn't an asshole all the time.
You turn back to your advisor giving her a faked-up, sickeningly, sweet smile. "Fine, but I want extra credits." Your smile drops into a poker face. "I- fine, extra credits on your upcoming project-" Your advisor crossed her arms before you cut her off. "Projects, Plural." You smiled at her again.
Your advisor looked behind you, pissed off. Like she was looking at Tsukishima for help but when the boy looked away your advisor looked back at you. "Fine, Projects." You weren't normally like this, but if you were gonna tutor the most stubborn, arrogant, asshole your school had to offer, you needed it to be worth your time. You smiled again at your teacher before dragging the boy out of the class to the library. "God, this better be a shit ton of money." Your advisor whispered.
"So, what are you struggling with?" You asked him with pure curiosity while picking up books from the shelf in the library, making the boy carry them all. "Just some. . . math. . ." Kei said with hesitance "Math?" You look at the boy one eyebrow raised. When you realized you had taken out many books, you tried helping him.
"No, it's all good," Kei said, smiling at you. The one you've never seen before because of how genuine it was. You looked away quickly feeling yourself blush. "Let's find some seats. . ." You said quietly, trying to get away as soon as possible. Soon enough you found seats by the library window.
The desk was a long one, with stools facing the windows. You sat down with a relieved sigh. "Where are you having trouble?" You placed your head on your hand, which rested on the long table.
Tsukishima's mouth hung open, dried up by the cool air the air condition put out. "Calculus. . ." The boy could see your eyebrows furrowing at his statement. Naturally, because it was 2 periodical tests ago and he passed both those tests even scoring higher than you. "I forgot. . ." he added.
You opened your mouth giving a small "ahh". You were still very suspicious of him but you couldn't care less. You were getting extra credits. This might be what you need to graduate top of your class or even your whole batch. "Okay, let's start." You opened the textbooks and started with what the boy remembered.
A few minutes later you could feel eyes staring at you while you yapped about the formulas. You continued for a few more minutes because the boy was humming with every formula you taught him but you could still feel his eyes on you and not the textbook that's when you got annoyed.
"Did you get it?" You looked at him and smiled sarcastically. The boy hummed again "Great. . . I think I got it, but just in case. . . Tell me the whole thing again I wasn't listening." He smiled slyly at you.
"Are you messing with me?" You groaned a little loud at what he said. The boy nodded his head slowly, unsure. "Show me your math exam, right now." You demanded. "I don't have it?" He looked around hiding his bag behind him. You narrowed your eyes at him stating you were serious. "Okay, I didn't fail my math test."
"Then what the hell are we doing here?"
"I wanted to hang out with you." He smiled at you, leaning his head on his hand. "We literally could've done that another way." You deadpan at him. "Yeah, but what's the fun in that? C'mon, I know a spot at the park. We could eat?" He raised his eyebrows.
A sigh came out of your mouth, indicating defeat. "what did you even hear when I started talking about calculus?" You asked when he choked on saliva randomly. Your eyebrows furrow when the librarian shushed the both of you on the way out. It honestly made you laugh at the boy.
A few years later in college, you asked him about it again, you figured he'd open up since you've been dating for 2 years now. Turns out all he heard was "blah blah blah, formula, formula, I'm so pretty and I like you but for some reason, I'm always upset at you."
The moment you heard those words you burst into laughter in your shared dorm. He knew you were never going to let it die, even mentioning it from time to time, even going as far as mentioning it at your wedding leaving him looking like a tomato in a suit.
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ᯓ★ I love this trend so much but I also love Tsukishima so why not mix it. Thank you for reading! | Masterlist
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Text
Adversity
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Hello everyone!
Here you are with a new story, with my one and only Ona. I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you think about it ♥
TW : Dirty Talk, mention of lover fight and mention of possible smut.
(Of course according to logic some dialogues are supposed to be in Spanish, but by sheer laziness I will simply put everything in English without translation)
___________________________________________________________
With your face resting on your hand, you are sitting at a table in the refectory in which the team usually meets for breakfast before the big games. Your teammates seem in a good mood, but you must admit that you don't listen to what they can tell around you. You vaguely realized that Lucy, Salma and Claudia are sitting next to you, but that’s it. Playing with food and the tip of your fork, it's only when Alexia settles down on the vacant chair next to you that you leave your gloomy thoughts.
You see her looking at you with wrinkled eyes while gently placing her tray on the table.
"What?" you asked raising an eyebrow.
"That’s what I was going to ask you. What’s going on?"
You shrugs, taking a small piece of tortilla on your fork.
"Nothing"
"She had a fight with Ona last night and they both are moody in their corner of the room"
Lucy answer at the same time as you and Alexia eyes goes to the english girl. You glare at Lucy, who send you a big smile, chewing her toast with some disgusting happiness.
In fact, she was right. Ona, contrary to your habits, was not at your side but at another table with Aitana, Ingrid and Mapi. It was in reality you who had changed tables when you saw her installed with the three other girls. A very stupid moove since it made you even sadder than you were already.
You can’t even tell why you started arguing, probably because of a small thing like every rare time it happens. But you went to bed angry and when you woke up Ona was already gone. She had an appointment with your medical team for a vague story of aductors and the worst is that you don’t even know if she’s okay and able to play.
"You're ok?" Alexia ask, full of empathy.
"She will be, you know how they are. If they are not reconciled after the game and in each other’s arms, call me Lucia for the rest of my life."
Lucy raise her eyebrows with amusement, while you prefer to answer nothing and lean against the back of your chair, showing her your middle finger.
"Leave her alone Lucia" Salma smiles.
You take advantage that Claudia relaunches a conversation with Salma and Lucy to lean discreetly towards Alexia.
"You know what the doctors said about Ona?"
"Yes, false alarm, she has nothing at all. She will be able to play the game as planned."
You nod, despite everything relieved to learn that your girlfriend is fine. Alexia doesn't add anything and doesn't even point out that you could have gone to ask her yourself, preferring to place a reassuring hand on your arm. The blonde definitely has great captain qualities.
On Ona's side, the mood is also gloomy. If the Spaniard finished her plate at Aitana’s insistence, she can’t help but look at your back and try to guess the interactions you have with your teammates. She saw you raise your middle finger at Lucy and then lean towards Alexia. She obviously also noticed that you didn’t swallow anything.
"Ona for God’s sake go talk to her!"
Ona responds negatively at Mapi's sentence with a nod and biting her lip. In her eyes, the fact that you didn't come to sit next to her is a way to make her understand that you have no desire to see her at the moment. And even if it break her heart, she respects it.
"What was the fight about?" Ingrid ask full of concern.
"I... I can't ever remember"
"Oh god, you are a real lesbian couple cliché, both of you" Mapi wines, earning a knowing smile from Ingrid.
Even Ona must bite the inside of her cheeks to avoid smiling.
******************
Like Ona, you're starting the game too. Striker, you will be next to Alexia as Ona is on the back with Mapi, Ingrid and Lucy. You have not yet exchanged a word, but the elusive looks of the beginning of the day have become longer and longer. You even get a little smile from her when you turn around in her direction, while you wait with the rest of the team in the tunnel to enter the field. You smile back, just before the signal is given to you.
You were playing the final of the Copa de la Reina, against Real Madrid. As the rivalry between the two clubs no longer has to be explained, you all expect it to be a physically difficult match.
And the firsts minutes of the match will show you that you were right to have prepared yourself for this. The opposing players don't hesitate to tackle the person with the ball, sometimes rather hard. It's only at the eighth minute that a shock leaves Ona on the ground, much longer than usual. Usually she's quick to get back on her feet and run to her post, willing to take all the shots without flinching. This is not currently the case and it lasts a little too long for your taste.
So you decide to take advantage of the game stop to approach her, while she is still sitting on the lawn.
It's only when she looks up at you that she realizes you have approached her, a mixture of surprise and relief passing briefly on her face.
"You ok?" you ask softly as she nods.
"Yeah. My head is hard"
"Tell me about it" you joke.
You give her a small smile before before reaching out to help her up. She gives you a smile back and with that you go back to your place with such relief that you almost feel like you’re flying. Finally maybe you will be able to reconcile, even if you can't bother Lucy aka Lucia.
******************
After half-time, the score is 2-0 for Barcelona, thanks to a goal by Alexia and a free-kick rather well drawn on your part, in all modesty obviously. You sat next to Ona in the locker room without talking, looking like two collegians in love but you didn't care. You even managed to avoid Lucy’s goofy look.
Back on the field, the game is even more brutal and rough than before. Dirty talk is also added by the Real Madrid players.
And Ona is the first one to suffer. In the action of the game and after a battle for the ball, you find yourself unbalanced by the number 12 of the opposing team who simply falls on you. Lying on you while you find yourself on your back, the situation isn't really pleasant. You nervously clear your throat, realizing that it takes her a few seconds too long to get up, both of her hand on either side of your waist, her face only a few inches from yours.
It's only when Alexia takes her by the arm to lift her up that you are finally released.
"Don't kill my best striker. Thanks."
Your captain’s icy tone sends your opponent back to her place, but she can’t help but smile with a bad look at Ona.
"Your girlfriend is really hot Batlle. Maybe at the end of the game I’ll have the trophy and your girl screaming my name in my room, who knows?"
Of course your girlfriend attended the scene and she already felt her blood bubbling. Far from suspecting what is happening, you thank Alexia on your side with a simple look. Jaw clenched, Ona takes a few steps in her direction but is immediately stopped by Mapi. No need to say anything, a look exchanged between the two women makes Ona realize that it's indeed not necessary to enter into this kind of things.
"You seem very sure of yourself, Leon. Maybe I could give your girl a try too"
Badly for her, with all the teasing she didn't realise that the game started again. And it only took a few tens of seconds for Ona to express her frustration in her rush and go to score a goal at the other end of the field.
Sincerely proud of her, this time you can’t resist joining your teammates to congratulate her. Both of you aren't the type to exchange kisses in public, especially on football fields, but you enjoy this embrace perhaps a little longer than usual.
"My little dragster" you smile and the smile she give you back asks you to use all your self-control not to kiss her until your lungs scream for help to get oxygen again.
Instead you kiss her cheeks and go back again where you belong on the pitch. And this time Ona will be content to address a corner smile to number 12 who will throw her a new spade based on "It is not that which will prevent me from asking her her number"
******************
35 minutes later, the referee whistles the end of the game, awarding the victory to your team. Cries of joy rise in the stands as you begin to celebrate this victory too. Salma happens to be the closest to faith to the whistle, she was the first you hug soon joined by Alexia and several other of your teammates.
After releasing her, your eyes begin to travel the field, eagerly looking for your small brown head. Lost in your contemplation, you don't notice the number 12 of the opposing team which makes its way in your direction of a decided step. But Mapi does and she runs to you, jumping on your body, turning you away from her new enemy number one.
"Great kick maestro" she smiles, dragging you to the middle of the field by your hand.
You were going to protest that you would like to see your girlfriend, but you barely opened your mouth when she magically appears next to you.
"Hi" she says with her supermagic smile.
"Hi" you say back, before opening your arms.
She doesn't hesitate a second before snuggling up, seeing over your shoulder Number 12 with an air of defeat that fills her with pleasure. You're hers, no matter what. Passing her two arms around your neck, she sighs with ease at the same moment you feel your body finally relax against her. Her happiness grows a little more when she hears you whisper in the hollow of her ear.
"I want to kiss you so bad right now"
She smiles and look at your eyes, biting her lips thoughtfully.
"Maybe later, if you are nice enough"
"I was born nice"
You fake a pout and Ona smile wider. As you remove some golden confetti that fell in her hair, you see Lucy two meters from you. She's looking at you, arms crossed over her chest with an air that seems to speak for him.
"What did I tell you?"
And, while you find yourself in a fiery makeout session in a corner of the stadium with Ona a few hours and glasses of sangria later, you have probably never been so happy that Lucy was right. Ona's lips on yours, your arms keeping her between you and the wall and the caresses she makes on your neck are the only reality you want to face right now.
She will talk to you about the statements of the unfamous Numero 12 opposing team once you get home, needing to talk to you anyway. Because despite your arguments, you tell yourself everything.
And if someone asks her, if there’s a name that was screamed by you that night, it’s definitely hers.
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pricegouge · 2 months
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🦋 here, I heard you want ppl to be horny in your inbox and that’s my specialty
In the spirit of Haul- rough fucking as punishment. Maybe doll tried to escape, maybe she backtalked a little too harshly, whatever. If we’re to the point she’s allowed out of the basement, she’s immediately getting dragged back down there for her punishment. I’m biased to say Simon would be the one most likely to use a particularly brutal fucking to punish his pet, but idk about you, so if you think one of the others would be more likely, do tell!
Anyway I leave you with the visual of poor Reader getting dragged by the hair to wherever the boys wanna take her and begging them not to be too rough because she’s still healing :(
Horniness in my inbox will always be encouraged, but yeah, especially tonight :)
Wrow, my first non-canonical little drabble for Haul. She's getting so big :') I'm a Price girly so normally I'd say it's him doling out punishment, but I can play nice with Simon if that's what you prefer
cw: hair pulling, non con oral, choking
It's Johnny's fault, really.
He never stops running his mouth - about what a bad cook you are, how the place is never as clean as when the last girl they brought home was in charge of it. How much you want his cock. Normally, it's easy enough to ignore him. The boys are never there long, their schedules always rotating, intertwining like cogs in a clock before spinning on out and away again. Off to god knows where, leaving you at peace for a day or two so another one could fill their spot.
Only, Johnny's been out with engine trouble, and you've been stuck dealing with him for two weeks straight.
In retrospect, you can't even remember what it was you said. Something about how he could stick his head in the oven if he wanted after he'd complained about it being dirty. Johnny whines, you grumble, and Simon's thick fist snags in your hair.
"Who you giving lip, pet?" he snarls and you cringe.
"Wasn't -."
"No? And telling Johnny to burn his hair all off i'n' givin' 'im lip?"
You don't bother arguing, too busy standing on your toes as you try to relieve some pressure from your scalp.
"'appen to like that 'air, pet. Don't want 'im burning it all off," Simon laughs. He pulls your head back and forth by your own hair, as if demonstrating why he likes the handle on Johnny's head.
"It's nice hair," you agree, hoping you can get away from punishment by simply playing nice. John is out today, picking up the slack from Johnny's busted truck. Usually, John's the one to handle your punishments so you can get away with more when he's not around, but Simon's really been taking his position seriously in the captain's absence, and you know you won't be so lucky when he just tuts at you.
"You'll have to be nicer than that." His casual tone does nothing to prepare you for the cruel way he yanks you back downstairs. You yowl, fingers threading through your own hair as if you can hold your scalp close to your skull. You stumble after him, falling a few times on the steps as he drags you below John's office. He does nothing to catch you beyond grip your hair tighter.
You don't realize Johnny's following until the door is snicking shut behind you.
"You gonna tell Johnny you're sorry?"
You do, immediately, falling to your knees despite how Simon still holds you up by your hair. Your knees hover above the tile, weight suspended at a sharp point on your scalp.
"Nicer than that, hen," Johnny grins. His fingers move to his waistband and your breath stutters out.
"Please, no. I said I'm sorry." Sometimes if you turn your pretty, pleading eyes on Simon he takes pity. No such luck tonight.
"Not yet you haven't." His fingers wrap around your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks until he can pry your mouth open, holding you like that lest you bite through the meat of your own cheeks.
Johnny's own thumb hooks your jaw even lower, his cock bobbing in your face as he fists his own base. "Not gonnae show me tha' cute little tongue, hen?" He asks, faux innocence.
Your eyes meet his for a moment, defiant despite your position. You loll your tongue out for him when Simon's free hand slides down to your throat.
"Tha's righ', bonnie," Soap sighs, easing himself into your waiting mouth. "You be nice and sweet for me, yea?"
Johnny's thick. One of the thickest you've ever had. It's taken practice but you accept him easily enough after a few experimental thrusts. Simon's palm tightens around your throat when Johnny slides home, and the smaller man groans.
"Feel that, love?" Simon asks, and you know by the tone in his voice he's not talking to you - too warm, too pleasant. Not for you. "Fuck my fist, Johnny, wanna feel it."
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stxneflxwers · 28 days
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between just you & me.
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⋯⁂ summary. this is a birthday fic~
⋯⁂ a/n. as said in summary, this is a birthday fic. well, a belated birthday fic. for me. teehee. my birthday was on the 26th but whatever i can be late to my own birthday :D. btw i refuse to proof-read this. lol rip. this fic feels like an utter mess but whatever. this took forever to coherently come up with anyway. lol, lmao...
⋯⁂ characters. aventurine. gn reader.
⋯⁂ cw. all lowercase. fluffy-ish, teensy bit of hurt/comfort. eating (milkshakes and fries bc YUM). physical affection. reader heavily based on me cuz...it's...my birthday? don't like don't read ig. reader takes unspecified type(s) of medications. aventurine and reader struggling with disordered eating and/or small appetites.
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"happy, happy birthday~"
you heard a familiar chirp in your ear as you were still resting in bed. sure, you're sleeping in, but there's nothing wrong with that on your own birthday, right?
it's your boyfriend. he leans over you, all with a huge yet genuine grin on his handsome face. and, of course, holding a bag of your usual meal choice and your favorite milkshake from a delightful little old-fashioned restaurant that you hold in high regard.
you're about to scold him for breaking in again, and then you remember just in time that you had recently given him a spare key to your apartment. you sigh softly, relieved to know he didn't break in.
"...birthday?" you then ask, your bleary eyes and sleepy mind not quite there just yet.
yes, you very much forgot that it's your birthday. but, in your defense, you just woke up.
"yes, darling dearest, it's your birthday. i figured i'd get you a little treat to start off the day just right," aventurine coos as he takes a seat on the edge of your plush bed, right next to you. "want me to feed you~?" he teases.
"oh my god, no–" you fluster, a pout forming on your bottom lip and in your brows.
"heh," the sly gambler chuckles breathily, "alright, alright. you can feed yourself. i trust you're capable?" he laughs heartily when you (very weakly) punch his bicep.
"what a way to start my day – getting sassed by my own darling boyfriend first thing." you playfully roll your eyes, a wry smirk on your lips.
you slowly sit up against the headboard of your bed, letting your limbs stretch far and wide as you yawn. he thinks you look like an adorable kitty like this, and he's quickly overcome with the desire to cover your face in little kisses. but, almost out of instinct, he holds back on his affections. for now.
he hands over your bag of food and over-the-top milkshake, tenderly smiling at how your eyes light up at the sight.
"thank you so much, vasha," you murmur and lean over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, he nearly blushes, "it really is a great way to start my morning, regardless of your sassing." you smirk, sounding far more confident when you give him a verbal jab to his side.
"no problem. i'm more than happy to indulge your cravings whenever." he hesitates, his hand stuttering mid-air, but he ultimately rubs your head a little.
"hmhm, good boy," you grin when he blushes faintly at the praise, "...do you want some?" you offer, picking out a french fry and holding it out to him.
he hesitates. almost visibly tensing up at the offer.
before he can reject the offer, you comfort him, "i don't mind, really. besides... i can hardly eat all of this myself. not to mention, did you even eat this morning–"
"did you take your meds last night?" he immediately retorts, interjecting. he loves you, but damn, he's concerned too, you know?
he had noticed that you missed your yesterday's evening medications as he passed through the bedroom to deliver your meal. he sighed when he noticed.
"i–" you sputter, "...is that why i'm feeling so weird right now?" you stare down at the crispy fry in your hand, eyes narrowing.
he snorts lightly, "probably." he jumps up to his feet, walking over to your desk to grab the circular medication container that's ordered by each day of the week. how convenient!
once you take your meds, you tentatively munch on your delightful food and milkshake. you wish you could share with him without him getting so evasive, even though you can strongly relate to his...aversions.
when he notices your slow, small bites, he frowns a little, "...you alright, sweetheart?"
you're quiet for a long moment. you two can barely lie to each other's faces. you know each other too well because you both experience similar emotions and thoughts – practically two peas in a pod.
"uhm..." you fluster, "oh, you know me... it's hard eating around others..." you sigh.
"do you want me to leave–"
"no! please, stay," you pout, grabbing his sleeve before he can leave, "you don't have to eat any, but please don't leave me alone too much today...?" you whisper, eyes darting away from his knowing stare.
"i promise i won't leave you today. at all." he quickly sits down next to you, allowing a tender smile that's reserved only for you to form on his face.
"thank you." you sigh in relief.
you two continue to chat, the subjects of conversation varying greatly – bouncing from topic to topic. at some point, he holds out his hand to request a fry, even though the tremble is obvious.
he wants to try as many times as possible, all for you.
and you'll gladly support him each step of the way.
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vintagexherry · 1 year
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Forget
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Yandere!Miguel x Housewife!Reader
//Yandere, Manipulation, Amnesia, Implied kidnaping, Lying
A/N: Im not a doctor so idk how amnesia rlly works
Something doesn't feel right.
Something feels like you're forgetting something.
Something tells you, you're not supposed to be here.
Back track weeks ago, you remember weakly opening your eyes, and you find yourself on a hospital bed with buff, tan, and handsome man beside you.
Your body is covered in bandages and a heart monitor attached to you.
As you open your eyes even more, you see the man beside you his eyes.
"Y/N? Thank god- I thought I almost lost you, You've been out for so long." You glanced at the man who rambled on and on, seemingly worried and relieved at the same time.
Was that your name? Y/N? I mean, you can admit it's a pretty nice name.
"Who....Who are you?" You asked in the middle of his rambles, which you didn't have much energy to listen to
Miguel seemed to stop at his tracks, seemingly to take it what you just said.
Then something in him jumped in glee, something told him to take this opportunity.
He was silent for a while until he finally spoke.
"I'm.....I'm your husband, Miguel O'Hara."
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
So now here you are stirring a pot of food for your husband who's coming home soon.
You remember your days in recovery.
Miguel would talk to you about several things, The Spider Society, The multiverse, your friends like Peter and Jess, and also your spider powers.
While you were exploring your powers with him, you asked why you didn't ever join the Spider Society with him.
He paused for a while and said that you did join, And before your mission you had you noted to him that it will be your last and your gonna retire for a bit, but during the mission you were fighting someone who you underestimated in strength and before you know it, you got blasted to a wall and had a concussion.
A concussion that severely made you lost your memories.
You winced at the story he told you, but he reassured you saying that he could protect you, that's he's there for you.
You wanted to join back but the trauma of losing memories isn't really nice.
You start to prepare the plates in the dinner table.
You remember, after recovery in the hospital, you and your husband go to your shared home where you took the time to explore.
You went to the bedroom and saw a handcuffs tied to the bed post.
You asked him about it.
"Well," he let out a nervous chuckle. "Let's just say we were adventurous in bed. "
You blushed at his implication.
During your stay with him, you re-learn recipes and ask many things from him. You also asked why it is that you're married, but you don't see any rings.
He said that since both of you do hero work before your retirement, he didn't want the risk of losing precious jewels, and you can't help but agree with him.
As time passes by, you learnt basic things already from your husband such as food, hobbies you do together, shenanigans you both face and how well he really is in bed.
One time, Miguel let you visit the spider society, and there you met Peter and Jess once again.
While Miguel is busy with work, you talk with the both of them with Mayday on your lap.
"You know Y/N, I'm surprised you gotten closer to Miguel, I remember you would avoid him any given chance." Peter commented
"For sure, and I'm more surprised he let you visit us since prior to your accident, It's been sooo long since we've seen you." Jess added
You were confused with their input, gotten closer? Of course, you were close to him. He's your husband, after all. And they didn't see you for so long? Well, maybe cus you retired, but then again, you noted it was supposed to be after the mission.
You cleared your head and replied.
"Well, of course I'm close to him. He's my husband....?" You ended in question since their the closest friend of Miguel, How come they don't know he's married?
But instead of feeling satisfied with your awnser, both Jess and Peter stopped and looked at each other as if realization hit them.
"Uh...Y/N? Do you-" Before Peter could finish his sentence, Lyla appeared next to you, you remember the first time meeting her again and you admit she's a very enjoyable person.
"Heyy Y/N, Big boss is callin for ya" Lyla notified you and you thanked her before she disappeared again.
"Well, you heard the floating lady, I gotta go, bye Pete bye Jess!" You stood up and handed Mayday back to Peter as you webbed away to the direction of Miguel's office, not knowing the horror in both of their faces.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
And you wished you listened to them more.
It's been months since your amnesia recovery, and you still can't remember your own memories, Doctor said that there's a chance you could still remember things on your own, it's said to be rare but a chance is a chance, plus everything you "remembered" was relayed by Miguel and you're felt bad for not remembering even your own husband. You talked to him about it but all he said is that it isn't a burden and that "It's feels like im falling in love with you all over again" You can't help but admit your heart flutter.
Plus, he wouldn't lie to you. He's your husband. You thought as you stared into the golden band of ring around your finger.
....
He wouldn't right?
You were about to think more until you heard a portal opening from the bedroom.
"Mi amor? I'm home!" Miguel called out.
You smiled, finally having your beloved be there at your side, you can't always rely on Lyla since she is a hologram and you mostly need a warm body to hug with.
"I'm in the kitchen!" You called him from downstairs, and as he came down, he greeted you with a deep, searing, passionate kiss.
"I see that you enjoyed my gift." He said as he took your hand to spin you around slowly, admiring the dress he got for you.
"Of course, why wouldn't I" you giggled at his antics.
As you both ate, he would tell stories about what happened during his mission and what shenanigans happened his meeting with the spider society.
You and Miguel brushed you teeth, and got ready for bed.
As you cuddled and listened to his light snores, you think back to your previous thoughts.
And you conclude.
Yea, He wouldn't.
The End
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uniquexusposts · 2 months
Text
Below Deck | C. Leclerc (2)
Summary: Y/n and Charles had broken up a few weeks ago. Y/n thought it was a good idea to enter the yachting world to get over the break up, but suddenly he shows up at the last charter of the season. How will they cope with it? Words: 2008 Read the story that was based off the one shot here Part 1
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"Do you watch F1?" It was Max who asked it.
Luca, Otis and Y/n were standing in the lounge. They were having a conversation with the guests, well, Max, Charles, Carlos and Pierre did. They just got back from the beach picnic. Y/n hated that these people were polite, curious and just... Why can't they leave me alone? Luca stirred Y/n into the conversation, and she couldn't just leave.
"Yes, I do! Well, not so much now I work all the time, but where I can, I follow it," Luca said.
Luca was such a sweetheart. He always looked angry, but that was just his facial structure. And he looked so intimidating because of his muscles, but he was a real sweetheart.
"I'm more of a NASCAR guy, I'm sorry," Otis mentioned awkwardly.
Otis was the guy who was probably the most responsible. He never had drama, never. But when there was drama, he was always there. He sometimes had funny comebacks. Together with Y/n, they were drama free.
"And Y/n says she doesn't watch F1," Luca said and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "But I think she secretly does."
Y/n played along with him. "Secretly, I'm a big fan," she smirked. "But don't tell anyone."
"See, I knew it," Luca laughed.
The guests laughed along, trying to not make it awkward. Y/n had to bite her lip to try not to burst into laughter because it was so fake and uncomfortable. She knew almost everything about F1.
"The next race is..?" Luca asked.
"France and right after that, Budapest. The last races before the break," Pierre responded.
"Very cool. I can catch up with it right after we finish this job," Luca happily said. "The last race I saw was with the accident, Imola, I believe." He let go of Y/n. "Dear Lord, that looked horrible."
Y/n pressed her jaws on each other, and her face straightened. She quickly remembered she had guests - who were still her friends - in front of her, so she relaxed all the muscles in her face. Get out of here.
"It looked more horrible than it actually was," Charles replied. "Which was explained later on."
This was a sneer, and Y/n knew it. She looked impressed and nodded. "Of course it did," she mumbled.
Pierre and Carlos looked at Y/n and then at Charles; if looks could kill... They looked at each other and sent each other a look. A look that told: it's bad.
"May I ask how it was for you? I really can't imagine how it must be to be in that car. It really looked so bad. What a small touch can cause..."
Italy, Imola, Sunday. Everything started fine that afternoon until a gearbox of a driver stopped working. Red flag. All the cars went to the pits. Very unfortunate for the driver who had his race finished way too early.
On the other hand, Charles could make an advantage with the restart since the official start went like shit. The car was removed from the track, and everyone was ready for a standing restart. So it began again.
Until Charles Leclerc got a small touch of someone.
Charles shoved over the track at many kilometres per hour. His car flipped upside down. His car hit the barrier with 40G. His car crashed and shattered completely. It took the people over 30 minutes to get him out of the car. It took Ferrari another 90 minutes before a statement was released.
"When you get into a F1 car, you're packed. The impact was gigantic, and I saw my life playing in front of my eyes, but it really looked worse from the outside than from what I saw in the cockpit. Thank god for every regulation and the modern cars," Charles summarised.
"My goodness, it still sounds horrible. I'm glad you got out safely," Luca mentioned, relieved. "I feel like, when it goes wrong, it goes good wrong. Just like with Zhou at Silverstone last year."
"That one was pretty ugly as well," Max agreed.
"I still think the crash of Grojean is the worst in years," Y/n stirred. "I saw it happening, and I thought: nope, we're not doing this again. When he got out of the car, I've never felt so relieved," she said.
Pierre nodded. "He got so lucky. I've seen the reconstruction video, and I heard his story; it was so... I don't have words for it."
"F1 is an ugly sport," Y/n blurted.
"It depends," Charles shot back.
"It is an ugly sport," Y/n sneered.
"Felix for Y/n," the radio went off.
Thank you so much. Y/n grabbed the transceiver from her skirt and held it to her mouth. "Go ahead," she said.
"Can you make two mojitos for Kelly and Rebecca, and bring them to the front deck?"
"I'm on it," she said. "If you will excuse me," Y/n smiled and walked away without waiting for a response.
The smile on her face dropped straight away, and her eyebrows lowered. She was so done with everything, and she wanted to go home so badly. Then she remembered that she didn't have a home, so she had to return to her dad. Y/n was close to having a breakdown but had to keep it together. She arrived at the bar and made two mojito's as requested. Y/n brought them to the two girls and walked to the laundry room to fold and steam some clothes.
She walked with the folded clothes to the bedrooms of the guests. She knocked on every door, making sure no one was in there. In two of the bedrooms, it was that case. Y/n knocked on the last door and opened it without hesitation as she expected it to be empty.
"Oh, excusez-moi," Y/n said when she saw someone in the room of Pierre and Charles. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. It could be Pierre, she hoped not for Charles.
"No, it's fine."
It was Charles.
"I have your clothes," Y/n mentioned. "Or Pierre's," she mumbled, trying to not give him attention.
The door opened from the inside. "Thank you," he said. "You can put it in the closet."
A sigh left her mouth. For some reason, she didn't accept it. Now it really felt like he was using her. Well, he paid for this service, but it just felt so weird to Y/n.
"Sure, perfect," she said and entered his room again. It was deadly silence, awkward silence, in the room. Y/n placed the clothes in the closet.
"Why did you say that?" Charles suddenly asked.
"Said what?" Y/n was glad that no one from the crew on this boat spoke French. She could hold a conversation without them knowing what they were talking about. Now she had to control the tone of her voice.
"That F1 is an ugly sport."
"Because it is."
"That is not fair to say."
"Why? It's my opinion." Y/n stepped to the door, ready to leave the room.
"It is not fair, Y/n," he repeated.
She closed the door behind her and stepped toward him. "You know what is not fair? The time that you have let me wait after your accident in Imola. Do you remember how long it took me to discover that you were alive? Two fucking hours," Y/n whisper-yelled.
"I still do not understand why this is why you broke up with me," Charles replied in the same tone.
"For me, it is."
"Why? Tell me why, Y/n. Or is that even too much to ask?"
Her face straightened. "I'm not doing this here. Find someone else to mock on, Charles." She stepped towards the door again.
"Explain it to me! I had asked my team multiple times to contact my family when I was at the medical centre; how many times do I have to tell you that?"
"It is so fucking ridiculous that I had to wait for two hours. I had no idea if you were alive, if you were dead. Nothing. Those two hours were almost the two longest hours of my fucking life. Perhaps you were dead, I don't know," she replied and shrugged. "It's the fact that I had to read it in a statement on social media, I didn't get that message from you personally. Even if it was two hours later, it would have been much better than a social media statement on Twitter."
"Why are you still blaming me for it? I have asked-"
"You don't get the point, do you?"
"Then explain it to me, Y/n. I have been guessing for weeks, and I still don't know what went wrong." Charles scanned Y/n's face, and he noticed the change in her eyes. A glossy layer washed over her eyes, and they became bloodshot. Her shoulders hung low, and she looked down. Charles straightened his face and looked down as well. "I am sorry, Y/n," he whispered.
She was shaking her head, and she took a short breath. Soft sniffs filled the room. "I am sorry."
"Mon amour..." Charles stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and stroked her back. He closed his eyes when she snuggled her face against his shoulder. His heart broke again.
"My mum," Y/n began and pulled back. "She...erm..."
Charles knew her mother passed away nine years ago. He had no idea what she had to do with this.
"...passed away in a car accident," she softly said. "One night, she didn't come home from work and..." She took a deep breath. "She caused an accident because she was drunk, five other people passed away, and four people got injured."
"Jesus Christ," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know that." Everything started to make sense now.
"We only found out a day later because the police failed to contact us."
All the strings got connected together. Accident and no communication.
"So when you crashed and when I didn't get any updates, I panicked. And when I read the statement, I got so angry because... I'm sorry. I probably overreacted," Y/n mumbled and dried her eyes. "But I didn't want this to happen again, and I...the same rollercoaster began. I should have talked to you."
Charles retook her in his arms. It was her trauma, and she panicked. Of course, she would get angry. "You never told me this..."
"It's not really a positive thing to talk about, is it?" She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his waist. "My dad asked us not to talk about it with anyone because, you know, we're the family with the alcoholic mother who killed five people."
"Is that why you moved to France?"
"Yup..." She took a deep breath and looked at him. "I'm sorry, I should have reacted differently. It was not your fault. I was just really scared that something bad happened with you, and I compared this situation with my situation."
"But why did you run away, baby?" He whispered and stroked a piece of hair behind her ear.
"I was scared." When Y/n blinked, tears rolled down her cheek. "It's a stupid reason, but I was scared. And then I got an offer to work on this yacht... I am so sorry, Charles. Working in this environment makes you forget everything around you, but I collapsed when I saw you again. Mentally and physically." One thing she loved about Charles was that he gave her time to speak; he never pushed her to talk. "And I fucked it up, I know. I am sorry."
Charles showed a small smile. "You should have told me..." He kissed her forehead again.
"I know, I'm sorry." Y/n looked at him; of course, she wanted to redo the moment, but she couldn't turn back the time. "I know it was not your fault, I know I hurt you, I..."
It was silence between the two again.
Y/n was deciding whether this was a moment where they would fix it or not. Of course, she hoped he could forgive her, but she hurt them by hiding her own problems.
"How many more days until you are done?" Charles suddenly asked.
"Two."
"Two?"
Y/n nodded. "You're the last charter."
He gently pushed her head in his direction, making him look her in the eyes again. "Do you want to come home then?"
Her face softened, and new tears came into her eyes. "Really?"
"Yes, really," he smiled. "Only if you want."
"Yes, please, I'd love to."
They looked at each other, and they pressed their lips to each other.
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @softi92
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ollie-lolly · 1 year
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The Obey me brothers in: "The morning after"
Obey me brothers X gender neutral reader
Warnings: Suggestive, swearing
Started and finished on: the 8th of april 2023
Note: Happy early birthday to my favorite snek boi Leviathan! <3 I love this little shit to bits. Tell me if you want the side characters too! As always reblogs and constructive critism is always appreciated!
word count:489
Lucifer
-Will already be fully dressed by the time you wake up
-That is if you don't wake up by this old ass man's alarm clock
-On the rare occasion that that isn't the case, he'll drink coffee while waiting for you to wake up
-He loves sharing coffee with you in the morning 
-Don't even dare to eat in his bed 
-Will treat you like royalty the morning after, since he can be quite rough during sex
-Will reward you for being his "stress reliever"
Mammon
-"I was great wasn't i?"
-Needs cuddles
-This man is clingy as fuck
-Morning kisses on your body
-Will make up tons of excuses as to why you two are late to school
-He can't convince anyone cuz he is loud as fuck
Leviathan
-As soon as he wakes up he will try to hide his face in your back when spooning
-I like to imagine that he kinda loses himself when he is having sex. So morning clarity hits this man hard
-He is very insecure, so please assure him that he did well
-Please for the love of god please don't mention what happened the night before during breakfast. He will just shut down
-"Please restart Levi.exe"
Satan
-Will read to you in the morning if you like!
-Cuddles with you him and his sneaked in cats in the morning
-While reading the devildom news paper, he'll ask questions on what you did and didn't like from last night
-Will ask you what you would want to try next
-Will carry you to breakfast
Asmodeus
-He has this love struck look in his eyes as soon as you wake up
-"Good Morning beautiful"
-Wants to get ready with you
-Shared morning shower is a must
-Shower sex?
-He puts you in front of his vanity mirror and starts brushing and doing your hair
Beelzebub 
-The amount of crumbs in his bed 
-Will lovingly greet you when you wake up
-Breakfast in bed is guaranteed
-I headcanon him as a service top, just ask and he'll do it!
-Will spoon feed you breakfast if you'll let him
-If you are okay with it. Beel will invite Belphie to enjoy breakfast in bed together
Belphegor
-No doubt about it, you always wake up first
-He will cuddle you to prevent you from leaving
-You have to help him get dressed 
-He will tease you the entire morning during breakfast if you will actually make it
-"Now what did you call me last night? I can't seem to remember"
-Will look around the room to see how many people he can piss off in the shortest amount of time
Bonus!
Barbatos
-"Sorry dear, duty calls"
-He will leave breakfast for you though!
-He uses magic to keep it fresh and warm
-If he actually has the time for once in his goddamn life he will massage you
-He will literally stop in the middle of sex if Diavolo needed him
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elliesstrapon · 10 months
Text
Filthy Pleasures
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"This t'much? Take me like a good girl."
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♡ Summary: In which Ellie fucked you so hard, you couldn't coherently muster up a proper thought, or remember your name, and your voice going silent at the near 'hundred times you screamed her name.
♡ Warnings: sub r, dom Ellie, fingering, over stimulation, hickeys, swearing, body worship, use of petnames; Princess, good girl, baby, babe, etc. Not proofread, dirty talk
♡ Pairings: Ellie Williams x Reader
♡ a/n: Just a small break from False Accusations, not even 5 parts in and I'm exhausted, I needed some excitement, that last part was not it, anyways Enjoy!!!
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"Fuck"
Her heavy and desperate footsteps dragging across the wooden floor boards, every shuffle louder than the last that you'd heard just before she knocked on the door.
Every night she did this, needily knocking on your door, yearning to relieve herself with your warm bodily fluids dripping down her slender fingers.
You lazily untangled yourself from the mixed up sheets, shivering at the cold atmosphere. You tip-toad to the door, the floor creaking like an alarm, in which you hoped the people sleeping just under you wouldn't hear.
The palace was old, every door and tile sounded at the mere touch of a toe, finger, breath, you had to pause whenever you heard a slight movement from the floor below.
You opened the door to Ellie, her eyes pleading for your body, your curves and moles gifted to you, woven at the finger tips of a goddess, your plush skin a land of wonders and bliss to the auburnette haired woman.
She was such a massive slut for you.
Your cunt throbbing at her nasty, smutty remarks. "'m needed m'good girl~ so horny" she slurred, moving her arm to open the door further, holding it just above your head, a dark tainted lustful look in her eyes, eyeing your already pointed buds. She bit her bottom lip, the sight of your body already sending her over the edge. Her hands reached for your hips in desperation, closing the door behind her as she forced you onto the mattress, the erotic sounds of your heaves filling the room, muffling between your obscene wet kisses. Her nails dug into your plush hips, your stretch marks being left with half moons in them, her tongue exploring every inch of your hot mouth like a new discovery, swallowing you whole. "Mmh~" you whined, your legs quivering into the sheets that shifted about under your supple skin. "Ellie..." Her kisses trailed down your neck in perfect ecstasy, every last one rougher than the last, you shuddering against her touch. You massaged the nape of her neck, her groans vibrating into your shoulder blades when you thrusted your hips up at her, your back arching in pain and anticipation, "steady'" her voice was low, ordering you as she devilishly pinned her knee between your legs, kneeing your clit teasingly, "shit— Ellie.. God~" you cried, your panties damp in your own produced liquids.
Your mind was hazey, her hands roaming your body, lifting your night gown. The fabric tickling your skin, leaving it naked, her tongue flicking at your nipples eagerly, sucking on them like a pacifier, devouring every inch of them, "fuck—"
"Y'like that, don't you' yeah.." she said, a chuckle slipping past her lips, cooing at your squinting eyes, your eye lashes fluttering and your mouth hanging wide, the feeling washing over you so dangerously. "That's m'pretty girl, so fuckin' wet for me, 'could destroy you right'now" she sucked on the sensitive perimeter around your buds, nibbling and biting at your boobs, chanting her name like an oh-so holy church song.
Her knee ruined you completely as she continued to blemish your skin in hickeys, a few shaped like butterflies, in comparison to the ones in the pit of your stomach, picking up and fleeing while your cunt tingled endlessly.
You were unstable, her hands cupping your ass cheeks, groping them to her content, whispering dirty praises into your ear, "y'feel so good baby' your bodys all mine.. mine.." Her voice was low, grinning against your neck, evilly. A philosophy written so effortlessly when she drew blood from your shoulder, flipping you over onto her thigh, holding your waist strongly in place, like a statue, never wanting you to leave her grip. "Like a fuckin' goddess.." she trailed off, her gaze grazing over your body, her look so thirsty for you. Her rings made you shiver, they clashed so coldly over your skin, feeling so vulnerable. You shook your head, disagreeing with her statement. "Say your a goddess" she darted, her nails seeping into your sides, demanding you. A Shakey moan slipping past your lips when she moved your hips, the friction against your pussy making it cry for more attention. "I want y'ta say it" she professed again, guiding your hips, you riding her thigh, your mind forgetting your own goddamn name and your vision clouding in unease, low and short whimpers leaving your mouth, defenselessly crying out her name as she forcefully pushed you to say it, your hands gripping her hair for dear life, "i—mm, I'm a goddess.." you groaned, rocking your hips on her, the sound of your liquids squelching on her naked lower body, "yeah, ur'mine, such a good girl fer'listening t'me" she said, she let go of your waist, watching you play with yourself on your own, her own request while you blissfully rode her, your panting filling the room, like some pornography video, the sound like music to her ears as you begged for an end on her, your climax nearing pitifully. "Please..." You cried, your legs shaking, the knot in your stomach unraveling so fast you almost couldn't see it coming, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. "C'mon you can do it, fer'me" she shushed you, rubbing your back, you painfully riding her through your climax, your cum dripping down her thigh into her own boxers, wet with not just yours but her own orgasm aswell.
You hopelessly fell against her barley managing to register the look on her face before she flipped you back on your back, watching you like a movie star, her words garbled into the delicacy of the warm skin on your neck "'m losing m'mind over you," she professed, her short nails digging into your thighs, spreading them open, your painful resistance failing as she smirked at you. "Fuck, Ellie, Please—" she slipped your panties off, so wet you wouldn't have been able to put them back on after this whole propaganda, she kissed the inside of your thighs, leaving a path of marks up until your throbbing, hurting cunt,
You were almost passed out by now, every inch of you trembling and flinching at her ringed fingers, teasing your entrance so fucking much you cried out her name so needy for her inside you, her pussy throbbing at the sound of her name foaming out your mouth repeatedly,
Your body was motionless, unable to even arch your back when she thrusted her fingers in you, the dirty sounds of your skin slapping corroding the air with the shaking bed, the walls creaking and your breaths heavy. You weakly tried to push her hand away, your legs bleakly trying to close, your bodily functions shutting down when she rasped out, her voice hoarse "don't resist" you palmed the sheets, pursing your lips fearful that your screams would awaken the entirety of the palace. "This t'much? Take me like a good girl." She whispered into your ear, curling her fingers up against your tight walls, "Ellie~" you whined. "So... Mm—" you failed to put words together, your brains and organs scrambled, she continuesly praised you, your body, your responses barley the ending of her name "Els—"
Your second orgasm falling through, the sticky substance staining her long fingers as she only thrusted harder, and faster, "fuu...!!" Your voice falling silent, only picking up paste, your cries and silent pleads straining her ears, "shh, it's okay babe" she assured, brushing through your hair, the beads of sweat rolling down every inch of your body, your cum still falling from your cunt.
"that's m'girl" she smiled, kissing your forehead, every part of your face, passionately.
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Dividers not mine!!
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