#he tries very hard to look his best despite never really feeling comfortable in his skin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zepskies · 2 days

Text

One Exception

Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).

AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.

“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.

“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.

More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.

Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.

You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You okay?” you asked.

He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.

Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.

And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…

And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part.

CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.

You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.

She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”

“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.

“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.

“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.

CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.

CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”

In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.

“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.

And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.

“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself.

“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.

Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.

“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.

CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.

“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.

“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”

She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.

“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.

CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.

You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.

“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.

But she wasn’t you.

CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”

Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.

You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.

Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.

Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.

"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.

"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"

You and Jen shared an amused look.

"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.

Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.

"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."

Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”

"Wait, what?" you said.

Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."

She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.

Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.

"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.

You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?

“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.

“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”

Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.

“What?” you asked.

Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”

“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.

You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.

“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.

Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”

“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.

“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.

“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”

Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.

“By all means, check away,” she said.

“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:

Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.

CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.

You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.

“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.

“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.

CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.

You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”

CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.

Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.

“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.

“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”

You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”

“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.

“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.

“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.

“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”

A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”

“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”

“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.

“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”

CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”

He gestured at the cup beside him.

Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.

“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.

“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.

You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.

“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"

“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.

“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”

“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”

You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.

“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”

At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.

You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.

No, this one was all him.

“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing.

You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”

A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.

“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.

You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”

You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.

“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.

It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.

“Come on, let’s play.”

You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort.

Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.

That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.

Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.

But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.

You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.

You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.

“You’re up, babe,” you said.

He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.

“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.

He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.

He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.

CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.

“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”

You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?

Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.

You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.

“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”

“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”

That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.

Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.

“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.

CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.

Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.

He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.

You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.

“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.

When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.

CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.

Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.

“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”

Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.

Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.

But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.

“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.

CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.

“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”

Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.

“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”

“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.

You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.

Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”

You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.

“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”

CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”

“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.

You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.

“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.

CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my one exception,” he said.

AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!

Ko-Fi Me ☕

CJ Braxton Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CJ Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @jessjad @pieandmonsters @deans-spinster-witch

@idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92 @peytongoose @hobby27

@waynes-multiverse @lovelyunjinn @twinkleinadiamondsky

#One Exception #Good Morning Sequel #dawsons creek #CJ Braxton #CJ Braxton x reader #CJ Braxton x female reader #CJ Braxton x you #CJ Braxton fics #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #CJ x reader #CJ x you #jen lindley #pacey witter #joey potter #dawsons creek fanfiction #CJ Braxton fanfiction #dawson's creek #zepskies writes

86 notes · View notes

canisalbus · 7 months

Note

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

#no in fact he's just a little ahead of the curve let me try to explain #again I'm not a historian I'm just sharing what I've read I might be misremembering stuff so don't quote me on this #high heels became extremely fashionable in the early 1600's probably just a few decades after Machete's time #and they were originally worn by men #because they were inspired by Persian riding boots #if your shoes had heels you'd have easier time keeping your feet in the stirrups (think of cowboy boots)#Europeans saw them thought they looked snazzy and they became wildly popular in noble circles fairly quickly #for some hundred years or so high heels were the epitome of class wealth power and status and they were essentially genderless #remember that concepts of masculinity and femininity are fluid and change over time #things that were seen as manly a few centuries ago may seem downright effeminate to a modern viewer #it's all matter of perspective neither is objectively more correct than the other #they started to separate into men's heels and women's heels around mid 1700's iirc but the changes weren't massive even then #and only truly went out of vogue when the French Revolution hit in 1789 #and people all across the continent were suddenly put off by everything that reminded them #of the frivolousness and extravagance of royalty and aristicracy #so in his canon timeline I don't think people are looking at him and going “hmmm that's pretty gay”#because heels hadn't become gendered yet #maybe he likes how they accentuate his already tiny paws and make his legs look even longer than they are #he's interested in fashion or at least likes to dress nicely in high quality garments #he tries very hard to look his best despite never really feeling comfortable in his skin #he was a real shrimp as a kid and even though he eventually grew up to be a beanpole he might still find the extra height appealing #no one's going to look down on him ever again #I admit the way I draw them is a lot more modern than the true historical style at the time but not outrageously so #artistic freedom and all that in the end I'm not aiming for 100% accuracy #modern au Machete has no excuses though he's just a little bit fruity #if the guy feels empowered by wearing little clip cloppers let him #answered #anonymous #Machete

391 notes · View notes

chigirizzz · 7 months

Text

❝𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲❞

synopsis: how your fist kiss with him is like

characters: gojo, yuji, megumi

tags: gn! reader, not proofread as always (it's 3am for crying out loud)

— GOJO SATORU

gojo is a tease and that’s no news for you, it’s not new to anyone. this man’s actions and words either make someone respect him or desire to kill him.

yet, it surprised you how much he could tease you before and during your first kiss.

gojo fucking satoru made sure to make your life hard as hell after finding out how you, even past your mid twenties, never had a kiss.

“never?”

“never,” you responded by repeating the word in a cold tone of voice, arms crossed and sending him a dead glare. however, he did not felt intimidated by you—

—instead, he just burst out laughing and looked at you like you were a middle schooler still finding out about life.

that’s how your memory can recall that day. god, you hate him!

and you hate how you never got to experience such a magical moment yet!

but patience is a virtue, right? that’s what people say. and that’s what you’re thinking right now as gojo’s big hand imprisons your head movement by holding your chin firmly. his hold isn’t too strong and neither too loose—perfect to give his lips the chance to dominate yours and perfect for you to free yourself and slap him if that’s what you wish to do.

but you don’t do that, so his lips curve into a malicious smirk, which gives an electrical shock to a certain corner of your brain—which makes your mouth let it escape a satisfying sound to his ears.

he’s enjoying this. he’s enjoying this so much and so are you.

today was like any normal day, including the newest jokes and teases from gojo satoru about how no one ever felt attracted to you enough to kiss you. although you know the white haired male never wanted to hurt you and it was just teasing, the comment he told you today really hurt you, making you sad and defending yourself to gojo (and calling him stupid).

he listened quietly to your rant. his blindfold made it difficult for you to understand how sorry he was, though.

gojo moves his hand from your chin to the back of your neck, his body language now a bit more rough—his lips more angry for yours by the way he tilts his head slightly to side, guiding you on your make out session, occasionally leaving a chuckle when you desperately try to follow his movements.

you are so cute and he feels so superior in this exact moment.

one of your hands moves by itself to grab the cloth's fabric that covers his chest when you suddenly feel his teeth on your neck. he wasn’t doing anything special yet, just mouth slightly open with his teeth ready to give you a hickey.

“satoru…”

“hm.” despite him answering your call, gojo didn’t pay attention very much; instead, he chose to snuggle into the warm skin of your neck, searching for comfort. wanting to be close with you.

the hand that was close to his chest is now on his back, patting awkwardly but softly. “i…” you cleared your throat. you’re pretty sure he could feel your nervousness. “i hate how you make me feel.”

— ITADORI YUJI

no words to describe how adorable he is.

this sweet boy took you on a date to the oceanarium with a full plan inside his pants’ pocket:

take a shower

after shower, use the best perfume/deodorant (not axe!!)

go to y/n’s house to take them to the oceanarium

look for the best train seat available for y/n (has to be next to the window!!)

pay for the tickets

tell y/n lots of fun facts

kiss y/n

kiss y/n… kiss you…

now that’s a hard task.

in the three months you and itadori yuji were dating, no one had any complaints. the two of you were going at their specific pace, but still able to get out of your comfort zones, just for each other.

kissing you is an example of yuji getting out of his comfort zone—that, and he just loves you very much; the boy just wants to express himself. he cringes at how he stepped away from you awkwardly when you tried to kiss him on the day he confessed to you.

“that’s so cool!” you hugged the jellyfish plushie you bought in the oceanarium gift store tighter, its scent bringing you a feeling of peace. the both of you are currently outside, sitting on a bench at a nearby park, just speaking about today and listening to yuji’s fun facts about the aquarium animals. “tell me more.”

“uh, well… just a second!,” he excuses himself before searching for a piece of paper inside his pants’ pockets… he took one out of the pocket, read it, and realized it wasn’t the one he wanted. “just…—just a second! sorry!

your boyfriend is acting strange today—you noticed, anyone can notice—, but you opted to not say anything. however, you’re starting to become extremely curious.

the wrong piece of paper is roughly and badly stuffed back into his pocket, only for the panic to torment him again when said paper falls from the pocket to the ground.

“what’s this?” you ask no one in particular when you caught the paper before your boyfriend could do it.

“shit, no! give me that!”

“calm down, yuji, i’m trying to read it.”

the boy watches in horror as you slowly read the paper—the paper with the list.

that’s it, his life is over. he feels the pain of the embarrassment crushing him, getting more painful each millisecond. he can imagine how you’re gonna make fun of him, destroying his heart—

“you could’ve just told me, itadori,” your voice soothes his thoughts as you stare at him lovingly. “i would never judge you or anything.”

“after how i denied your kiss the day i confessed to you? me? denying your kiss? on the day i confessed? i’m a moron—”

the palms of your hands hold his cheeks gently. “you’re not a moron, my love—well, you are, but not in this context.”

all yuji got to say was an offended ‘hey!’ before you pulled him towards you, making him able to cross ‘kiss y/n’ out of his silly and now crumpled list.

even if there isn’t much experience between you both, you manage to work it out. it’s a simple but long-lasting kiss—at least that’s what you assume when you start to feel the need to breathe some new fresh air. but you don’t want to worry about oxygen, not when the feeling of his lips in touch with yours makes the blood vessels on your face dilate, making your blood warmer, making your heart beat faster.

you let go of him and breathe heavily, however, you do not get a proper pause because yuji starts kissing all over your face, while tickling your body too. the both of you turn into a mess of laughter and tiny kisses, completely enjoying the moment.

and perhaps you get the privilege to live something that resembles a cinematic masterpiece, as you both stop laughing and rest your foreheads against each other.

— MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

the scenario is really simple: one minute you’re sitting side by side on the sofa while watching a terrible coming of age movie, pizza slice on your hand, all your worries forgotten thanks to the comfy blanket covering your laps, and the next minute you and the dark haired male are sitting in front of each other on the sofa, faces really close trying to mimic the stupid kissing scene at the end of the stupid movie.

“her hand was like this.”

“shut up, why do you want to make things so difficult.”

this was your idea, of course, a perfect excuse to kiss him. in months of dating, you never had the first kiss as a couple and you decided to tease him into doing it, saying how you wished to be kissed like in the ending scene of the movie and complaining how megumi could never do like the male protagonist did.

he knew you were just teasing him, but he felt the need to show you the opposite anyway.

first you were trying to position your heads and hands like the actors and sharing short kisses, until he got tired of the challenge and just pulled you for a kiss without you expecting it.

it was definitely way better than the one from the movie. it was rough at first but eventually it got softer and more romantic. he paid attention to your body language, to how you reacted to the kiss, and when his lips let go of yours so you both could breathe, he stared at you so lovingly you almost felt like melting, especially when his hand made contact with your cheek to caress it.

minutes passed and you were now cuddling each other, you laying on top of him and listening to his heartbeat and him giving you a small back massage, making sure that you felt loved (and that you didn’t say anything stupid again).

2K notes · View notes

zeijia · 8 months

Text

SEVEN DAYS A WEEK !!

info; you're a prostitute that works for a brothel, and here are your clients for today's week . . . ♡

featuring. ISAGI YOICHI, ITOSHI SAE, ITOSHI RIN

cw. Protected sex, prostitution/brothels blablabla, sae's butt fetish. Vaginal penetration, spanking, riding, doggy, oral, degration, praise, dumbification, yes rhe condom appears out of nowhere, lmk if i missed anyyy !!

1/2 . DAYS ; MONDAY - WEDNESDAY

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

what is it like being a prostitute? terrible. Most times, your customers would often be shabby old men who were divorced, they would mostly also have a disgusting aura that pissed you off, they seemed desperate to have sex with a cute looking woman who was younger than years, and by years, i mean many, many, years. While foreigners on the other hand, they were rather… unexpected. It's either they're really wild, or just super shy and kind. They were rare species nowadays, you hardly ever have foreigners to entertain. However, you knew they would also pay alot. Therefore, you would be in your best attitude whenever there would be foreign people. Adjusting to how they want you to be. Aside from all the pleasurable feelings some people describe your job as, you have always despised this job, but what was your choice anyway? You needed the money. Selling your own body just to have a meal on your stomach was.. well, it was something.

So, here's your week of entertaining clients. ♡

it was the usual, annoying and frustrating MONDAY. it was hard to get by on the first day of the week. You thought about the pain of going again to that shabby place, and having to spread your legs again for money. So, when you went in, you quickly got in the room where you were assigned, and it came to your surprise when a familiar boy's eyes landed on you. He was the customer for today.. but he looked oddly familiar to you. What was it? After observing him very very very carefully, you managed to figure out who the boy was. ISAGI YOICHI, Japan's diamond in the rough, current rising striker. Once that came in your brain to register, you blinked a few times. What was he doing here? Isn't he supposed to be focusing on his soccer career? Why is he-

"I want this one, madame. Can I have her?" Your thoughts were interrupted when he spoke, and you looked up, seeing him pointing at you. Your shoulders jolted slightly, as you looked over at the other girls who also worked as a prostitute- but they all seemed to be giggling and whispering on how you were lucky.

Lucky? In what way? To have sex with Japan's current rising striker? No, no matter how attractive nor popular he was, you still despised whoever came in this place. You thought Isagi would be the same like those foreigner athletes, objectifying women.

But oh, you were so so wrong.

"Th-that's it- haah..! Y're so- ngh, good, yoichi!" You moaned out, as Isagi's cock hit a spot in your warm pussy. You never expected that a guy like him could have such a massive length that basically could make a fool out of you.

It all started out when you took him in a private room for you two, he explained that he thought he could use some time to unwind after having his thoughts in a complete mess. He told you, you could lower your guard down around him, he wouldn't have sex with you right away. You were confused when he said that, why was he treating you this way? Wasn't he supposed to get all hard and needy? His behavior was unusual to you, maybe, he was thinking of you as a 'girlfriend.' You never expected him to be that type of customer, the type who gets too carried away and thinks that you two have genuine feelings for eachother. Despite that, you disregarded his words and gave him sweet nothings, murmuring sugar coated words to him and 'comforting' him with a hint of.. lust. You just wanted to get the job done, but never did you expect he would be a gentleman. Despite how hard you tried, grinding your clothed pussy on him, he would only get shy and look away, you had to tell him that it was okay, and that that's what you're working for. You had to remind him that you're a prostitute.

But regardless of all that, Yoichi was still such a softhearted man towards you. He didn't rush you, and took things slow. You had customers like these before, but he was well.. he was one of an awkward and shy boy, you had to take the lead.

So that's what had you ending up on his lap, bouncing down on his cock, holding onto his shoulders for support, and his hands on your waist. Your moans and whimpers echoed throughout the entire room, thankfully, it was sound proof. Occasional kisses would happen, and your mind went blank on Yoichi's cock. As much as you hated this job, you can't deny, you'll never fail to crumble upon a good looking, kind hearted, and respectful man. The more he respected you, the more you wanted him to disrespect you.

His massive length would reach spots inside you that barely any of your customers could do, and gosh, you had to be thankful for having to receive Isagi for today, going dumb on his dick is definitely helping you clear your mind for the start of a good week. that's for sure. But what about him?

Well, it seems like he chose the correct girl to have sex with, this was just what he needed to clear his heavy thoughts, your warm pussy sucking onto him for dear life, clenching and tightening on him made him almost lose his patience. He had a few hookups before with fangirls who didn't mind, but you? Gosh. He knew you weren't a virgin, but the way your pussy's taking in him, the way you'd moan out his name, your drool pooling out of your mouth, your ruined state.. it made you look like one. Yoichi was enjoying this. Your ass hitting his thighs every time you rocked your hips, your boobs bouncing and your sweet noises on how it feels so good, everything was just.. perfect.

"mmh- you like it, hah- yoichi?" you asked, your voice all breathy and needy for more as you pulled him into a quick kiss before he responded. "yeah, ah- i love it." he grunted out, kissing you again. You pulled away and gave him a slight smile before quickening up your pace once more, speeding up on his cock. You were near your release, and you just wanted to cum. Your pussy letting out erotic sounds each time you bounced on him, and you hugged him tight, feeling your orgasm take over you. "Yoiiiiichi!" you moan his name out, as you squeezed onto him.

It wasn't long till you heard a whimper from him, he came undone on the condom, your pussy was just too much for him to take. Isagi loved it, he loved how your pussy was still squeezing on his cock, he could joke about how it has attachment issues to his cock. Isagi thought, how good it would feel if it wasn't for his damned condom?

A few minutes of panting and gasping for air, your breathing synchronized, you looked up to him, with a cheeky grin on your face.

"that would be.. 20,000 yen, Yoichi."

TUESDAYS were your second least favorites. You never liked them. Tuesdays were the days a lot of clients would come, alongside with fridays. Why was that? Well, Monday's a pain, and by wednesday you'd start to get the kick of tiredness as if it is the middle of the week, so, Tuesday's a great day, right? What a pain in the ass, really.

That was when you were in a room with a guy named ITOSHI SAE. The room you two were in was themed, or rather- disguised, as a massage spa. So, you got in the attire in the room and did some slight adjustments before calling him in. This isn't the first time a client chooses a massage spa as a theme, it often comes with perks after all! A massage, and a hardcore fuck afterwards, so what's better than that? On the other hand, it would charge extra. And now you're here, giving him a back massage before things get.. heated. You talked to him slightly, but man, he was silent. You never really got silent clients- they would often compliment you or flirt with you. "This guy really is something, huh." you told yourself. You told him to lay on his back, and this was where the exciting part begins, where the real show starts.

your hands drifted up to his chest, then further down to his toned abs. your hand started to drop down a little bit further, slowly removing the towel covering his shaft. Your gaze met his, his face expression remained nonchalant as ever, his lips not bulging one bit. However, there was some sort of spark between the two of you. Atleast, that's how you felt. Not those romantic sparks, the ones that got your cunt soaking wet.

His teal eyes had a lustful hint to it, something that could easily make you fall to your knees. You gulped down the lump on your throat before fully removing the towel, exposing his half hard dick to you. He was big, his tip containing the cutest shade of red you could ever see. You stared at it, your heart racing as a thousand thoughts ran up to your mind. You wonder, what could you do with his pretty cock? Then, you heard a deep voice speak, bringing you back to reality. "What's the matter, why'd you stop?" The pink-haired man asked, looking at you. "O-Oh! nothing." You flashed him a cheeky smile before resting your head on his hip, and placed a finger on his cock. You noticed how it twitched, and it quickly came to full arousal. Sae on the other hand had a blush on his face, a low whimper was also heard from him with just a simple touch. You then took his dick on your hand, squeezing it gently before you started to move your hand around him, giving him a handjob. You pressed kisses on his tip and base from time to time as you chirped on about his cock, and how pretty it is. "your dick's huge..! I wonder, would it fit?" you chirped, a slight smile on your face was seen, "why don't we test it out, then? Yeah?" Sae got up, sitting on his bed, looking at you, causing you to stop your tracks on his dick. You looked up at him, and gosh, why was he so attractive for saying that? You quickly stood up and unbuttoned your blouse, removing the tight skirt you're wearing, disregarding both of them and putting it down wherever you could place them.

After what seemed like nonstop teasing from the both of you, your being fucked on your pussy, your ass slapping onto him, and you recieved spanks from here time to time. "You like it, don't you, you slut?" he leaned down and whispered to your ear, as he continued to mess up your pussy's insides. Gosh, your eyes were tearing up, drool pooling out of your mouth as you nodded enthusiastically at him. "Mmph- yes! haangh- a slut.. for 'ya!" you moaned out, and a smirk was on Sae's face once you admitted that yourself. "tch, how I love masochistic bitches like you." he commented, going back up and pulling your hair, causing you to jolt back up slightly before he let go of it, your face falling back on the pillow. "masochistic cocksleeves like you turn me on, so.. hngh- so damn much." he groaned out, slapping your ass once more, his hand basically causing a red mark on your ass. You whined at the sensation of it, maybe your asscheeks would go numb if he kept abusing it over and over. "No guy could ever fuck you like this, hm?" He queried. Now that was a different story, you didn't expect that, but your pussy squeezed on his cock as he hit spots you didn't even know were possible. Maybe it was a bit selfish to do so, you had fateful customers, but gosh this man..

you nodded your head once more, "mhm..! nobody- ah!" you stated out through your whimpers and whines, and Sae's grin grew even bigger, your words fed his large ego, causing it to grow bigger. "Atta girl." He praised you, speeding up, letting you reach your climax. "Come on, cum f'me." He encouraged, your hands fisting onto the sheets, your moans becoming louder and louder before your eyes rolled back to your skull, seeing stars as you orgasmed. His pace became sloppy and stiff as your walls tightened around him, and soon enough, he came undone, too. He pulled out of you, and your body was too weak to even lift yourself up, and your knees gave up on you. Making you plop down to the mattress. "So, how much do I have to pay?" He inquired as he took the condom off and threw it in the trash bin, you couldn't even mutter out an answer, you were still dumb from his cock. "Hmph, I suppose I'll have to ask the mistress down there since you're too fucked out to even talk." He commented before stroking your hair, and a sly smile was on his face.

WEDNESDAYS were when frustration would really kick. It's the middle of the week after all, so you'd feel less motivated today. But, thanks to your work, you can never rest. Though, luck has been on your side all through-out this week. You're paired with a tall guy, long front bangs and a laid back with the same teal eyes with the guy from yesterday. You wondered, could they be related? You asked the madam for his name before going into a room with him, and his name was apparently ITOSHI RIN. Bingo, your thoughts were right. They are related.

Except, you were curious as to why he was here. Maybe his brother told him? Who knows. Nonetheless, you're not gonna fill your mind prying into other people's personal life, you're here to entertain their sexual frustrations.

Your tongue swirled around his cock's base, as you sat on the fluffy and fuzzy floor, he was sitting on the bed, his hand on your head. He was more difficult than the guy yesterday, he was silent, too. Low grunts and groans heard from him, yet he was shoving your face down to his cock, forcing himself all the way down your throat. You tried to pull yourself out of his possession, somehow, you can't. You don't even know why you tried. Unprotected oral was your guilty pleasure, you loved whenever a huge cock like his would abuse your throat and get your cunt all wet down in your panties. You just adored whenever your mouth was used, just like this.

You almost gagged when heavy spurts of cum flooded your mouth, and as he pulled his dick out of your mouth, it still came rushing and dripped down to your cheeks. If you looked reaaaallyyyy closely, you could see a smile on his face.

Despite this, he hardly even uttered out a word to you, and that made your face frown. "What's with that look, doll?" He questioned, confused on why you seemed unsatisfied. "You aren't gonna praise me, not at all?" you questioned, resting your head on his thigh. "Ah.. so this is what it's about," he paused, thinking of what to say next. He never would've expected prostitutes would be so.. expressive? Or maybe you were just a special case. Nevertheless, Rin took it himself to agree on your 'request' and placed his hand on your hair, gently stroking it. "You.. you were amazing." Shyly said Rin.

You gave him a smile, your eyes sparkled as you got up. "aren't I a good girl, Rin?" you probed, "ah.. yeah, you are." He sighed, before you got up, then walked towards the bed as his eyes stayed locked to your figure. You laid down on his bed, your back arched as you stretched your arms out, then sighing and resting down on your back, your hands on top of your head, as you spread your legs for him. "hot take, girls get suuuuupeeeer wet when you praise them." you joked, but hello? the sight of your soaked panties underneath your short skirt got him all riled up again. You could see how his dick got hard once more, slapping against his abdomen. "So? Wanna have a taste?" you teased him, and surely you got a reaction out of him. "I'll put you back to your place."

Dear, he was oh so correct. Your wrist being pinned up on your head with one hand, as he pounded on your pretty pussy, you looked down to see the erotic view that was happening, you could never get tired of this. Your pussy taking in a cock so well, how badly it turned you on, and ofcourse, it turned your dearest customer on, too. He then leaned forward, attacking your neck as he pressed a kiss, trailing down to your collarbone, and down to your right boob. His eyes looked on yours that were fully in a haze, your eyebrows furrowed and you were close to crying from the pleasure. You heard a groan from him after looking at your expression, and then attacking your nipple.

His tongue licked your areola, drawing circles on it, and teasing you by slightly biting your nipple. "D-Dont..! nngh- ah! I'll.. i'll cu-ah! cum early if you do!" you cried out, as he teased your nipple once more. He didn't respond, and continued to toy with your chest as his other hand was massaging your other boob, squeezing it and rubbing it. He was rather a contrast to his relative from yesterday, he was abusing your breasts. "Then cum already, princess." He breaths out, before going back to your nipple, this time, he was on your left boob. You couldn't take it anymore, "ah- fuck! cumming, cumming, cummi-nghhhh..!!" you moaned out, before you orgasmed, a heavy one. Your orgasm spilling down onto the bed sheets, as he let go of your hand letting you rest down as tears rolled down your eyes. After a few more thrusts of his cock down on your cramped pussy, he came undone on the condom. He pulled out after his very own high, and resting his head on your breasts that he was abusing just earlier. "i'll pay later, you're so.. cute." he said in a low tone, looking away from you, yet his head still rested on your boobs. You chuckled at him, and gave him a pat on the head. "Alright. You're cute too, Rin."

notes; OKAY SO THIS WAS ACTUALLY REQUESTED IN MY INBOX JUST A FEW DAYS AGO BUT I DIDMT HAVE MOTIVATION TO WRITE BACK THEN SO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT BEING QUICK ENOUGH ANONNN TT im not really knowledgable on these stuff like brothels <\3 anyways, who should I do next for thursday, friday, saturday && sunday TT

2K notes · View notes

kumawaii · 4 months

Text

SWEETHEART | LSM

cw - yandere themes, possessiveness, toxic behaviors, mentions of blackmail, unprotected sex, riding, recording, creampie

— this is my first request! hope you like it my dear anon!

∘₊✧─── 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ───✧₊∘

bestie!seokmin is an absolute sweetheart. he lives to make people happy, and you’re no exception. it’s so common, that you often feel bad for monopolizing his time. he always assures you that he wouldn’t have it any other way, and that’s enough to make any potential guilt vanish. which is good because your best friend hates to see you upset.

you don’t think anything of bestie!seokmin always following you around. he’s like a breath of fresh air and a burst of sunshine rolled up into a tall, handsome package. you two being attached by the hip is nothing new. you��re so used to it that you can’t really remember a time when it wasn’t like that.

it’s comforting having bestie!seokmin by your side. he’s the one guy who’s never let you down, and probably never will.

things never change between you two. even when you get a boyfriend everything remains the same. it’s odd, though. bestie!seokmin isn’t a fan of your new man despite him liking everyone. he’s still polite, ever the sweetheart you know him to be. which you’re grateful for. none of your relationships ever seem to last lately, so you hoped this time is different.

what you don’t know is that bestie!seokmin has no intentions of letting that happen. he’s been successful in undermining your other relationships and eventually ruining them, and this time will be no different. it’s hard at first because your new boyfriend is by far the most decent one out of the bunch of losers you brought around. but that doesn’t matter. he’s not right for you, and he’s going to prove it.

“why don’t you like him?” you ask, not liking that one of the most important people in your life doesn’t like your boyfriend.

seokmin is good at hiding the bitterness he feels. a small soft smile lifts his lips as he looks at you. “honestly? i don’t like his vibe. there’s something off about him.”

bestie!seokmin pulls you into a hug when you visibly deflate at his words. he apologizes into your hair, rubbing comforting circles on your back. instead of listing off all the reasons you should leave that loser behind, he tells you to be careful. after all, guys are pigs.

it takes a bit of time, but eventually the plan set in motion comes to fruition. it’s sunday night, aka your and bestie!seokmin’s movie night. you’re cuddled into his side when you get a notification. as soon as you look at it, your stomach drops. it’s a hey girlie… text from an unknown number with an attachment to accompany it. with trembling fingers, you open it.

as always, bestie!seokmin is there to comfort you when the image is revealed to be your boyfriend at some sleazy party. that scum had lied and said he was staying in to study for an upcoming exam. instead he was getting drunk with some girl in his lap practically dry humping him. it’s very easy for you to send him a breakup text seconds after you watch the video.

you cry into bestie!seokmin’s chest not knowing how bittersweet he feels. on one hand, blackmailing his ex into setting up your now ex boyfriend worked perfectly. however, now he’s left with your heart ache which he fucking hates. wasting your tears on such a worthless guy isn’t right, and he lets you know that.

“i-i just wish i could make him feel as bad as i do.”

seokmin tries not to sound too eager as he says his next words. “you can.”

you can’t regret listening to bestie!seokmin’s advice. he was right from the beginning, and he was right now. slowly sinking down on his thick cock feels so fucking good that you can’t even think of the idiot who lied to you. even with your camera pointing at your naked bodies, all you can think about is seokmin and his big cock.

“fuck, angel.” seokmin moans gutturally as he tosses his head back on the couch. “you feel so fucking good.”

you moan along with him as soon as you sink down all the way. he’s balls deep inside you, and you’ve never felt better. bestie!seokmin lifts his head and looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. it makes your heart jerk as you lean forward to capture his lips. the kiss is sloppy and needy. you swallow each other’s moans as you slowly start grinding your hips.

his dick is so big that you can feel him in your stomach. your pace is slow, but you already feel like you’re on the verge of cumming. the camera is doing an excellent job at capturing the erotic sight of your juices dripping down bestie!seokmin’s cock. it drips down to his heavy balls, and it makes something in the two of you snap.

“fuck my cock, baby.” seokmin urges you, groaning when you start bouncing eagerly on his dick. “that’s it. use me.”

his words sound so desperate and needy that you feel your pussy drip with more arousal. you’re moaning loudly and wantonly as you use his cock like a personal fucktoy. the coil in your stomach is close to snapping, especially when bestie!seokmin brings his hand up to play with your bouncing tits.

you’ve never been so turned on. all your senses are invaded by the carnal haze of sex — the harsh sound of skin slapping, the lewd squelching, and the filthy moans mixing in together. bestie!seokmin can only moan about how tight your pretty pussy feels as he’s consumed by the same dizzying sensation. he’s slowly losing his mind, and he’s loving every second of it.

“your dick is so big!” you cry out when seokmin starts to meet your movements with sharp thrusts. he’s slamming his fat tip against the most sensitive part inside you, and it’s not long before you’re covering his dick with your orgasm.

your moans turn into loud cries of ecstasy when seokmin’s big hands slide down your body to grab your ass. he kneads it roughly as he helps you bounce on his cock while fucking up into your sweet little cunt. you’re a naked goddess on top of him, and he knows he’ll never be able to let you go after this. by the way your pussy keeps clenching around him, you feel the same way.

“cum inside me!” you mewl, eager to feel him stuff you full.

bestie!seokmin smirks into the camera before he gives you what you want, knowing your idiot ex boyfriend is going to watch as he stuffs you full of his cum. he keeps fucking it into you until you’re nothing more than a whimpering mess. he spreads your ass cheeks as his cock slowly pops out of you, making sure your phone captures your tight little hole leaking with his cum.

you lay on his chest for a moment before you slowly lift your head up, mouth messily covering his once again. there’s no room for any guilt. not even as bestie!seokmin sends the filthy video to your ex. it’s the best revenge. especially because now it’s official that only he can have you in such a way.

#kumawaii.exe #midnight.hourz #seokmin smut #svt smut #lee seokmin smut #seokmin x reader #svt x reader #svt imagine #lee seokmin imagine #svt scenarios #seokmin imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen fic #seokmin fic

686 notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 5 months

Text

Kicking

Summary: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving) creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (give this man a football team), pregnancy hormones, Javi being the best dad/husband (idk what to tell you guys, he is truly the best)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask I got from an anon a while back, and the Dad!Javi brainrot has been unstoppable the past few days and I missed our sweet little family so here we are again 🤪 I love the Peña's more than life itself!!! Thank you @endlessthxxghts for proofreading and letting me harass you with my endless Dad!Javi thots ILY 😩💕

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Ouch, that one hurt. You are relentless, aren’t you?” You whispered down to your belly, setting down the dishes you were washing down next to the sink as you rubbed at your slowly swelling stomach. While you had very quickly remembered all the strange and painful sensations of growing a tiny human inside you throughout your second pregnancy, baby number two was definitely giving you a run for your money. Lucy had been easy- The occasional kick or bump, her movement enough to make you feel relieved and excited, but never enough to make you feel miserable. Even though you were still only 6 months pregnant, you were convinced that Baby Two was going to come out as a triple threat soccer star, football kicker and boxer, because their movement day in and day out for the last few weeks had been constant.

“You okay, Hermosa?” With your daughter Lucy hoisted on his hip, Javi paused from helping you to put away the rest of the dishes to turn around towards you, his brow scrunching in concern at the pained look growing across your face as you rested your hand on your stomach.

“Otay Mommy?” Lucy asked, mimicking Javi, making the two of you let out a little laugh, enough to ease you back to washing the dishes you had set down before Baby Peña had started their 15th boxing round of the day in your stomach.

“I’m okay.” You smiled up at Javi, who had made his way behind you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as you stood at the sink, still holding Lucy in the other. “Baby Tutu really likes to kick Mommy’s belly a lot.” You sighed, responding to your daughter, even though the comment was more intended for Javi.

“Baby Tutu!” Lucy beamed at the new nickname she had given her baby sibling, after you and Javi had been referring to them as “Baby Two”, which had quickly turned into “Baby Tutu”, after Lucy had begun babbling it around the house.

Javi frowned, rubbing his hand along the small of your back before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, feeling guilty at how uncomfortable you had been recently, despite how hard you had tried to power through it. “Mama and Baby Tutu are gonna go lay down and me and you are gonna finish the dishes and get ready for bed, Lil Miss.” It was now Javi’s turn to reply, talking to you through Lucy to try and insist that you go take a break before you pushed yourself too hard and felt even worse.

“Jav, it’s fine, you made dinner and I-”

“Lucy Goosey and I are more than capable of cleaning up and getting ready for bedtime while Mommy gets some well deserved relaxing time, aren’t we, Lucy?” Javi smiled, giving Lucy a little raspberry on her belly, making her squeal and grin in delight as she flapped her arms in Javi’s grasp. “I’ve got her, don’t worry.” Giving your hip a little squeeze, Javi gave you a reassuring nod, almost insisting that you go give yourself a break to at least soothe Baby Two’s fight club antics in the comfort of your bed.

“Thank you, Jav.” You smiled, letting out a relieved sigh, your pregnancy hormones causing your eyes to well with thankful tears for your amazing and understanding husband.

“Of course, Osita. We’re gonna say goodnight to Momma, okay Lucy? Can you say, goodnight Momma, we love you?” Javi cooed at Lucy, prompting her to give you a little wave goodbye as you reached up to pepper a few kisses across her rosy cheeks as she giggled.

“Night night, Momma. Wuv you!” Lucy babbled, reaching out towards you for a hug as you sandwiched her between you and Javi, giving her and Javi one last kiss before you trudged your way across the house and up the stairs towards your bedroom.

Even though you were thankful for Javi taking care of Lucy’s bedtime routine for the night, it hadn’t eased Baby Peña’s soccer tournament in your stomach in the slightest. Even after slipping on one of Javi’s oversized shirts and your pajama shorts, tucking yourself into bed and throwing on the TV to watch the Dallas Stars game that had just started, you could not get anywhere close to comfortable, tossing and turning in your bed, trying your best not to curse in frustration at your incredibly active baby.

“How ya doin’, Momma?” Javi asked, gently closing the bedroom door behind him seemingly finished with putting Lucy down for bed as he began to strip out of his work clothes and into his cotton sleep shorts, tossing the dirty items in the hamper before crawling into bed next to you.

“Your child better grow up to be the next David Beckham.” You groaned, sitting up on your pillows to look over at Javi, with a sympathetic smile spread across his face.

“My kid, huh?” Javi chuckled, laying his hand over your stomach, gently rubbing circles with his thumb against the worn fabric of his shirt you were wearing. “If my kid grows up to be the next David Beckham, I will gladly take all the credit.”

The two of you laughed as you gave Javi a playful shove, rolling your eyes at his joke only to be interrupted by another sharp kick to your side, making you wince uncomfortably. “Ugh, yes, you can get all the credit if you can convince your child to stop bruising my internal organs.” You half grumbled, half laughed, as you readjusted yourself to lay down on your side, now face to face with Javi. “Lucy was never this active, especially this early. I have a feeling we’re gonna have our hands full with this one.”

“A handful just like her Momma.” Javi smiled, snaking his hand under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your skin, running his hand back and forth over your belly.

“I don’t know, Jav. I really think this one is a boy.” You huffed, bracing yourself again as another punch landed underneath Javi’s hand, making his face light up, always enamored to feel the baby moving in your stomach, even though you weren’t quite feeling the same.

“I’ll be happy with whatever they are, but I’ll be even happier if they stop trying to hurt their mamá, huh bebito (little baby)?” Javi cooed, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your stomach. “Déjela relajarse, por favor mi amorcito (Let her relax, please my little love).”

Even though this pregnancy didn’t have as much in common with your first one as you would have hoped, if there was one similarity they shared, it was that something about hearing Javi’s voice made your babies relax instantly. Not only did it make your heart absolutely melt every single time, but you also couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi’s sweet sounds were able to bring you some much needed relief.

“Nosotros te amamos mucho Chiquitita, pero su papá necesito ayudar a su mamá relajarse también. (We love you so much, little one, but your dad needs to help your mom relax too). And I would prefer it if you weren’t kicking her while I did it.” Javi smirked, slowly trailing his hands and kisses down your stomach, shooting you a quick wink.

“Javi!” You playfully scolded, giving him a little shove as he scooted his body down the bed, coming face to face with your heat as he ran his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“You gonna let me help you relax, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, placing languid kisses along the inside of your legs, carefully helping to raise your hips to pull your shorts and underwear off your hips, tossing them to the floor. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head back against your pillow, feeling Javi’s fingers slide through your folds, collecting the arousal that had already been pooling between your legs since the moment Javi had laid down next to you.

You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy where you were insatiably horny all the time and much to Javi’s delight, he was more than happy to help you with your problem however and whenever he could, even though you had to be a little more strategic (and quiet) this time around with Lucy in the house. Despite the constant kicking that had quite literally been a pain in your side the past few weeks, it was almost like Javi could sense how worked up and needy you were and couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied that he was the only thing that could cure the constant ache between your legs.

Javi nudged your knees open, letting them fall to the sides as he pressed the pads of his fingers against your clit, the sensation making you let out a whimper you tried your best to silence by biting down on your lip. “So wet for me, sweet girl. Gonna take good care of you, Momma. You deserve it. Gotta keep quiet for me though, okay?”

You nodded frantically as Javi easily slid two fingers into your dripping heat, slowly pumping in and out of you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt before he licked a long, broad strip through your folds, already making you instinctively buck your hips towards his face.

Javi hooked his free arm around one of your thighs, holding you in place as he began to lap you up, each stroke of his tongue slow and methodical as his fingers began to curl inside you, pressing into the sweet spot that he knew all too well would make you fall apart around him.

You couldn’t help but feel your bottom half squirm against your sheets, reaching down to tug at the dark curls of Javi’s hair, trying to find any sort of relief to keep from being a loud, moaning and whimpering mess as his tongue worked along your cunt, lapping you up like a man starved. His mouth latched along your clit, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped inside you, making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to build in a needy desperation.

“Javi, holy fuck- oh my god baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered, somehow managing to keep your voice just above a whisper as Javi pulled away to respond, still keeping a steady pace with his hand as he felt your pussy start to flutter around his fingers.

“I won’t stop baby, you can let go for me, Osita. I’ve got you.”

With that, he was back between your legs, relentlessly working along your heat with his mouth as the the coil in your belly wound so tightly, you were on the brink of snapping.

“Javi, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaahhhhhhhhh.”

With that, your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure spreading through every inch of you as you clenched around Javi’s fingers, soaking his hand and face with your arousal as you came, using every fiber of your being to keep from screaming out his name as you reached your high.

“Shhhhhh, that’s it, Hermosa.” Javi smirked, squeezing his fingers into the meat of your thigh as you rode out your orgasm, trying to help you keep quiet. Javi peeked his head back up as your breathing began to even out, your chest rising and falling in satisfaction as his kisses began to travel back up your body, stopping at your neck to take extra time to nip along your jawline, his teeth tugging at your earlobe as his voice rasped against your skin.

“Such a good girl for me, Osita. So fucking wet. Fuck, I need to feel you, baby. Can I?”

You nodded rapidly, feeling how hard he already was under his sleep shorts, his erection tenting the cotton fabric and staining it with his precum. “Yes, oh my god, please.” You moaned under your breath, pulling him in for an electric kiss, your mouths meeting with a passionate intensity.

“How do you want me, Hermosa?” He asked, breaking from your kiss. You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy that you were limited on options, which was never a problem since Javi had no problem making you feel incredible however the two of you fucked. Even with how horny you were, and any position would have been fine, Javi was always adamant that you being comfortable was the most important, and would let you call the shots.

“Can you spoon me? I’m not gonna lie, being punched in the gut all day has me exhausted, I’m too tired to get on top. Sorry, that is like, the most unsexy thing to say but-”

“Hey, I’ll do whatever you want, Osita. And it is fucking sexy because you’re growing our future soccer star.” He teased, cradling your face in his hand, pressing a soft kiss on your lips as you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“They better be a star after all the grief they’ve caused me.”

“I’m being serious though, baby. You know I think you are the most beautiful woman on the face of this earth, but seeing you all gorgeous and pregnant? Carrying our baby again? Fuck me, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Javi beamed, peppering kisses down your body as he helped you to lay down on your side, gently lifting your legs to put one of his pillows under your knees to prop them up. Javi shuffled his shorts down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed before scooting behind you on his side, reaching down to stroke himself a few times as he lined up with your entrance, running his cock through your folds and collecting your slick as he caged his chest against your back. “You gonna let me prove to you how fucking perfect you are? Show you how much I love my beautiful fucking wife?”

You could feel his tip begin to slowly press inside your heat, easily sliding in from how wet you were, working his way deeper, taking his time as he buried himself in your cunt inch by inch until he bottomed out, the sweet sting of his fullness making you moan with no regard for your volume.

“Shhhhhhh, I know baby, I know. You gotta keep quiet for me. Don’t wanna wake up Lucy.” Javi rasped in your ear, draping his arm over your body, letting his hand run up and down your side to try and soothe you before he kept going. “Promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?”

“Mhhmmmm, please, I promise, I need you Javi.” You whimpered, grinding your bottom half back into Javi, desperate for him to keep going.

“Jesus Christ- fuck, I need you too, Hermosa.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, slowly pulling out before pressing back into your pussy, taking his sweet time as he savored every stroke. “So fucking wet for me, Osita.”

So wet, that all you could hear in your room was the lewd noises of Javi thrusting in and out of you over your muted moans you were trying to keep contained as you bit down on your tongue.

Each snap of his hips felt deeper than the last, the sweet sting of his stretch making you absolutely lose your mind as he punched against your g-spot at a slow and savory pace, pressing languid kisses along your neck and shoulder as the hot breath of his words hit your skin.

“I love you so fucking much, Osita. I’m so fucking lucky. You’re so perfect. Perfect wife, perfect mom to our daughter, perfect all pregnant and carrying our baby. Can’t wait until I can fuck another baby into you.” As if him whispering into your ear as he fucked into with an intensity and passion that had you reeling, Javi reached his hand around your front, the pads of his fingers meeting your throbbing clit, making you lose all control as a ragged moan escaped from your lips.

Javi’s hand immediately shot up to your mouth, carefully covering it before you got any louder, now trying his best to keep from groaning as he tried to keep you quiet. “I know Hermosa, fuck- fuck, we gotta stay quiet, baby.” Javi convincing himself just as much as he was convincing you, his grunts becoming louder and louder as they rumbled in his chest, feeling your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock.

You knew that despite how hard you tried, with how good you felt, and how quickly the heat in your belly was starting to bloom once again, there was no way you were going to be able to stop yourself from keeping quiet. Giving in to the fact that Javi was going to have no choice but to cover your mouth, you wrapped your hand over his, pushing his thumb into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl and suck over it as Javi continued to thrust into you, his pace now starting to quicken as he felt your pussy fluttering around him.

“Fuck- oh fuck me.” Javi groaned, punching deeper and harder against the spot inside you that made you crumble, needing to make you cum again before he fell apart just as quickly as you were. “Touch yourself, baby. I’m not gonna- shit- I’m not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum again. Need you to- fuck- soak my cock before I fuck you full of me.”

You let your hands drop down, reaching between your legs to rub your clit, barely needing any pressure at all before your second orgasm came crashing through you, moaning into Javi’s broad palm wrapped over your mouth as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body.

As Javi felt you fall apart, his thrusts became faster and sloppier, quickly following suit, spilling deep inside you after only a few more pumps, groaning through gritted teeth as he milked himself of every last drop. Resting his forehead against the back of your shoulder, you could feel Javi’s damp curls sticking to your skin as both your chests heaved deeply, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. As Javi lifted his head up, you could feel his lips pressing soft kisses against your back, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your skin, keeping his chest pressed to yours.

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting the tips of his fingers dance along your soft skin as he let out a soft hiss, pulling out of your heat, feeling the mix of your spend dripping down your thighs, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before heading off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth.

“Okay? I’m amazing. You finally got the munchkin to stop kicking and you made me cum so hard, holy shit, this is the best I have felt all day.” You laughed, shaking your head in blissed out satisfaction as Javi gently wiped you up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper as you turned over to face him, cupping his face as your lips met in a tender kiss, a soft smile peeking out the corners of both of your lips. “Thank you.”

“For what, Osita?” Javi questioned, his brow slightly scrunching in confusion as his sweet brown eyes stared back at you, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

“For being so amazing. For taking such good care of me, for being such a great dad, I don’t know, I’m so lucky to have you, Javi. I love you.” You smiled, letting tears flow down your cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away in embarrassment. “Sorry, hormones.” You shrugged, letting out a little laugh as Javi’s thumb gently swiped across your wet face, drying your tears.

“You deserve everything, Osita. Eres mi amor, mi vida, mi todo. Te amo mucho. (You are my love, my life, my everything. I love you so much.)” Javi beamed, pulling you closer to lay against his chest, resting his hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it back and forth. “Mi familia es perfecto. Mi hermosa esposa, mi hermosa mija, mi hermosa futbolista (My family is perfect. My beautiful wife, my beautiful daughter, my beautiful soccer player)." The two of you laughed, looking down at your belly for a moment before letting out a little “oof” as you felt a tiny kick underneath where Javi’s hand was placed.

“Tell your little soccer star they can wait to practice until the morning.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko

621 notes · View notes

thepenguinwriter · 2 months

Note

Hey there!! So I have a cute request I wanted to submit if that’s okay with you?😊 It’s an Angel Dust x reader oneshot where Angel sees reader passed out on the hotel couch from helping Charlie all day with promoting the hotel. Reader and Angel aren’t together yet, but Angel has definitely developed strong feelings so far, so he can’t help but have the softest, love-dovey look on his face while staring at them😍 He’s soo tempted to just lay there and cuddle with reader, but doesn’t want to overstep (mans is learning boundaries🥰) so he decides to just get them a little more comfy (yk finding a blanket, tucking them in and all that lol). Before he leaves though, Angel can’t help but give reader a goodnight kiss on the cheek and Alastor just so happens to stroll on by while this happens😈, teasing him for being so open and vulnerable despite his reputation. Angel is embarrassed and flustered for being caught and called out, trying to deny it, but secretly knows he’s down bad💕💕

Thank you sm!!🫶🏼

Angel Dust ♡ Finding you passed out after a long day of work

- ♡ You and Angel have been friends way before you even joined the hotel

- ♡ You only became closer once you did, though

- ♡ It had been a long, hard day..

- ♡ You'd been helping Charlie the whole day, making posters for the hotel, hanging them up and just going around asking demons

- ♡ Angel came home from work, groaning and rubbing his eyes in exhaustion

- ♡ He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed you

- ♡ Passed out on the couch, managing to look cute even in your messy state

- ♡ Angel couldn't help but smile

- ♡ Taking in all your flawed glory, his face had contorted into a soft mess of love

- ♡ He felt the need to just sit down next to you, caress your head gently and cuddle with you

- ♡ He began stepping closer, but he stopped himself quickly

- ♡ He realized that your relationship was too precious to step over any of your boundaries

- ♡ Hell, Angel certainly knew more than anyone else what it felt like

- ♡ So, instead, he came up with a different idea, still ensuring that you feel comfortable

- ♡ He walked to his room, stopping for a quick moment to greet and pet Fat Nuggets

- ♡ He went back to you, pausing for a bit to take in your features

- ♡ Then he put the blanket over you, gently tucking it in, but making sure you don't wake up

- ♡ Even then, you were so deeply unconcious he wasn't sure the hotel crashing down could wake you

- ♡ Angel was just about to get back to his own room, but he couldn't help himself

- ♡ He slowly leaned close to your face, placing the softest kiss on your cheek

"Night, cutie.."

- ♡ Unbeknownst to him, a certain someone was watching the whole thing

- ♡ From the shadows, a tall figure spawned, grin as wide as ever

"My, my, Angel! Isn't that such a charming display of affection for the one you love? I would never have taught someone with a reputation such as yours could be so vulnerable.."

- ♡ Angel was caught very off-guard at Alastor's sudden appearance

- ♡ He was a blushing mess, stammering out random bullshit which Alastor clearly wasn't buying

"The one I love? Haha, please! Why would you think that?" Angel asked, trying desperately to hide his red face. Before Alastor could reply, he continued on, "What? Have you never given your best friend a kiss?"

"No, never."

- ♡ Angel left before he could say any more, dashing over to his room

- ♡ He lay down in his bed, burying his face in his pillow like a flustered mess

- ♡ He tried to deny it to everyone, but deep down he knew.

- ♡ You were the only one for him, the one he cared about most.

A/N; Hi anon! This was such a cute ask, thank you so much for requesting! It was really fun to write!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust x reader #x reader

447 notes · View notes

garoujo · 1 year

Text

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi tries his best to make sure the room is as dark as you like during your first time together.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, this is vvv heavily inspired by a scene in the yamada-kun at lvl999 manga that was just so very nagi-coded to me! hint at inexperienced nagi + reader wants the room to be dark, just a lil awkward moment :3 ! note: i had to write this for him or i was gonna die <3

you feel so good beneath him, nagi thinks as your hands tangle in his hair — nails grazing along the revealed skin of his back as he pushes you deeper into the pillows beneath you with every press of his lips with yours. he’s breathing deep as his tongue lavs and grazes along your own, his large body inbetween your spread thighs as he paws and grabs at your waist to pull you closer.

“wait!” you hesitate suddenly and it’s immediate the way he pulls back at your words despite the way he’s all soft pants and flushed to his bare chest. this sort of intimacy was new to him, he’d never had a woman in his apartment never mind in his bed and you’re so fucking pretty, you’re bare and he’s only left in his sweats but maybe he’s moving a little fast.

“uh..” nagi begins as you send him a starry eyed look, your body hidden underneath his comforter so only your collarbones and top of your chest are visible. “do you wanna stop?” maybe he did something wrong, he didn’t want to make you uncomfy or maybe he was getting too ahead of himself.

“don’t you think it’s a little bright still?” your words are quiet and he thinks you’re so cute when you avert your eyes away from him, your hands twisting tightly into the comforter underneath your palms as you try to hide more of your revealed skin. his eyes swipe along your features, across your collarbones and the skin that he’s craving to map out with his lips as he lets your question roll around in his head.

“eh, i turned off all the lights like you asked.” nagi tilts his head as his bangs swipe along his flushed cheeks — a little confused to what you mean as you nuzzle yourself deeper into his sheets, peeking out with puffed cheeks as he looks over you.

“whys your apartment so bright, seishiro?! it’s still super bright in here!” adorable, he thinks you’re adorable despite the way he’s a little confused as to what’s happening right now. he pushes himself back onto his knees and he lets his drowsy gaze look around the room as he squints into the dim lighting.

“really? what a pain, i can barely see you though.”

“liar! you’re moving like you can see everything!” you grumble with your words before you’re burying yourself under the comforter and nagi scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck before he sighs, a little unsure what to say as he lets the silence blanket you both.

“over there! it’s your desk, the light source!” your hand points out from underneath the fabric and he lets his head tilt over his shoulder as he looks at his computer. the led lights on his keyboard and mouse still glow and the wallpaper on his desktop is pretty bright. “why do you even have that? its so bright!”

“eh? it’s cool though.” nagi mumbles as he shrugs his shoulder but he still finds himself getting up to turn it off when you mumble about it. the room becoming even dimmer than before when the bright colours finally fall dark.

“‘s this better?” he asks as he squints in the direction he knows his bed is in before you sound out a yes and he takes a careful step. “ah, i can’t see now though. don’t you think ‘ts bothersome? i wanna see you.” his question is spoken through a pout before it’s followed by a soft little ow when he trips over what he can only assume is a cable, but it brings him down hard to the base of his bed atleast — like he’s just accidentally reached the goal.

“are you okay, sei?” you sound after a few moments of awkward silence, your fingers finally finding nagi’s as he kneels at the end of the bed — lifting his head to look at you as he groans. he can’t see you completely, but he can feel the way the sheets move with your figure and he wants nothing more than to replace them with the press of him instead.

“yup, ‘m fine. ah, my eyes adjusted to the dark though.” it only takes a few moments and he still thinks you’re cute when he can finally see the way your lips jut up into a pout — a little taken back by how quick he seems to adapt.

“already!? what is with you gamers?”

“eh, dunno.. super powers i guess.” but now he’s here, back where he started as nagi lets himself rest infront of you — careful hands pressing past the fabric that covers your figure before he exhales with the first warm touch of your skin against his.

“can i kiss you more now, please?” it’s hesitant as he looks at you but you still seem to melt into him so easily before you nod and his lips are back on yours. his kiss feels like it burns you in the best way and his lungs quake with his next trembling exhale when your thighs wrap around his hips — pulling him closer until he’s got you caged against the mattress and his bare chest presses tight against your own.

nagi gasps as he presses himself into you and it’s clumsy the way he pulls back to mouth at your throat — his hands pushing and palming at the remaining fabric separating you both. he’s still new to this, a little embarrassed at his lack of experience maybe, but he’s never had someone say his name like you do in the moments his intimate skin finally presses against yours and he’s never been so motivated to learn as he suckles messy kisses down your body.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x you #nagi x reader #nagi smut #nagi seishiro smut

1K notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 2 years

Note

Hello! I’d like to make another request if possible. I really loved how you did the Harbingers taking care of their sick s/o headcanons. Can I have headcanons with all the Harbingers comforting their s/o when they are crying? I know Pulcinella is supposed to be platonic, so maybe he can go into doting grandpa mode.

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: When you're crying and upset, the first person you go to is none other than the one you love most. And of course, they never fail to deliver their love for you.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: Ah yes, hurt and comfort, my favorite trope. I hope this makes everyone feel slightly better, whether you're having a good or bad day, you got this! <3

Disclaimer: Just so I don’t get repetitive, I just want to say that if another person made you cry, all of the Harbingers would have no problems doing some really… bad things to them. Since that’s out of the way, let’s continue.

Pierro:

Pierro would spend a normal day with you. You may ask why this is so special, but being the lover of the First Harbinger, who carries heavy burdens from Khaenri’ah, means you often don’t have “normal” days together. But when you’re this sad and crying, he has to make an exception. He would let himself sleep in with you, hold you close to him as you tell him everything and anything that’s been bothering you. (Despite his responsibilities, he still yearns to be updated on your life.) Pierro carries you to the bath and the two of you spend some time enjoying each other’s presence. He helps to dress you, and he cooks breakfast himself, which is eaten in peaceful silence. A long walk is taken through Snezhnaya and he lets you cling to his arm, despite the occasional looks of the other Fatui grunts. The two of you would walk through the forests and snow, and the town and markets of the frozen country. This kind of stuff might seem so bare and boring to outsiders, but you know that his time is the most precious gift you can receive from him, and you would want nothing else for comfort.

Capitano:

The one who is sincerely trying his best out of everyone and trying every method possible to cheer you up. Drops anything that he’s doing and while Capitano isn’t sure what to do, he knows his chest hurts more terribly than any battle wound when you’re sad. He is very protective of you, and wants nothing more than to destroy anything that’s causing you pain. And so, he thinks about what you do whenever you think he’s sad, and decides to spread his arms out to the side like you do when you want a hug. And of course you take the bait and practically launch yourself at him, but he catches you with ease. (When you teach this man how to hug and hold you properly, it is HEAVENLY. No better feeling than Capitano holding you snug on his lap with one arm while the other does whatever else he needs to do. Him one handedly holding you to his chest while the other is swinging a greatsword battling people. Yup.)

Tries every domestic thing in the book you gave him a while ago but kind of fails. When he cooks he chops up the ingredients disproportionately. When he picks flowers himself for you, the stems are half broken because he squeezed them too hard. When he reads stories to you and tries to give the characters different voices for you, you start laughing so hard your head hurts again. Capitano starts to feel bad, that your lover is someone whose only great strength is battle and leading others into war. But when all you do is smile at him and thank him, tugging on his arm to lay down with you, he can’t help but feel like he’s becoming more worthy of you.

Columbina:

The first thing is does is pull you into her lap and strokes your gently, humming a soft lullaby over your sniffles, in an effort to help you take a nap. Columbina knows you must be exhausted from so many tears, so she wants you to rest and just take a break from everything. She’ll be by your side the entire time. Also, any song requests are available for her during this time. She would sing for you however long you want even if her voice goes hoarse.

I don’t know why but I feel like she likes fluffy/soft and silky things. So the two of you would definitely be wrapped up in the softest blankets and pillows, even some plushies here and there. Columbina tends to place her head on the crook of your neck and just kiss the tears away (lots of back hugs.) Her words are quiet and soft-spoken but you can clearly hear them when she’s so close to your ear. Also, lots of looking up new hair styles so you can do whatever you want with her hair.

Dottore:

That ever-present smirk of his fades a bit when he sees you cry. Out of everyone, he is the most dumb-founded, because the emotion is not very familiar to him, and since he’s never seen you like this before, he has no data or experiences to help him know what to do. Yes, he had seen people cry before… cry in fear when they saw him. So he just stands there and lets you cry into his chest, a vial of unknown liquid in one hand while the other one is placed very hesitantly and awkwardly on the top of your head.

If this was anyone else, he would laugh in their face about their problems, but when it comes to you? You got his utmost attention. When Dottore comforts you, he first follows the very basics of comforting - just listening to what you have to say. He had grown accustomed to your physical touch, and in fact, secretly welcomed it since it made you feel better. Dottore is more of a logical person rather than an emotional one, so he won’t baby you or use too many honeyed words. Instead, he’d use more facts, solutions, and things you haven’t thought of before. The most verbal affection you’ll get is something along the lines of not letting fools rile you up, that you’re his partner for a reason (but that’s a lot coming from Dottore.) Makes it a mental note to make a clone follow you around from now on so your day would go more smoothly. Also the kind of guy to make his clones play card/board games with you and let you win on purpose. Would make you a hot cup of tea, his coat draped over you, while you watch him go about his experiments and such. Also the guy who would simultaneously be down to help you get revenge on anyone if you wished.

Pulcinella:

The grandpa who takes one look at you and beckons you to follow him for some tea and sweets. Makes you sit down next to him and lets you cry to your heart’s content. Depending on your personality, he already has a hundred ways to make you feel better. (After all, I headcanon that the Harbingers tend to rant to him about anything and he gives them advice/consolation. Papanella’s hugs are really nice, to be honest, it feels like you’re really hugging someone who cares about you.) This might be random - but you know those memes where grandparents always make you lots of food when you go over to their house? Well… that’s Pulcinella since I think that it would be cute.

He would distract you from whatever’s bothering you with a new story of course. Somehow, no matter how many times he tells you stories, he always has a new one. He’s also the one who would also gently urge you to confront your problems. Nonetheless, he’s very comforting and if you asked him he’d help you with whatever you’re dealing with. Pulcinella also forces the other Harbingers to cheer you up too.

Scaramouche:

Who does he have to kill? Pretty much the first thing that goes through Scaramouche’s mind when he sees tears roll down your face. If you reassure that this is not the case, he is not sure what to do afterwards. Whenever Kunikuzushi showed emotions, he was seen as week, vulnerable and received no comfort, so he kept it inside him. So now when he sees you crying so freely in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do. At first he is gruff in his words, telling you simply not to cry, that you don’t need to worry over dumb things when you have him, but of course this does not do much to relieve you of your sadness. So he sighs and places his hat on you since Scaramouche knows how much you like it.

A habit I think he picked up from when he was Kunikuzushi, is that he went to different scenic places to just pass the time and escape from sheer loneliness. He would tentatively hold your hand and lead you to one of these places nearby, and just sit with you. He wouldn’t say anything much because he didn’t want to say anything he didn’t mean to. And the two of you would just watch the sun turn into the moon. The golden sky transform into a starry night. Scaramouche would wordlessly keep an arm around you. Your life was too short to be sad, anyway.

Arlecchino:

Yet another Harbinger who has no experience comforting someone who they actually care about. But that cold mask of her breaks for a split second when she sees you cry. Every time one of the orphans cried, she kind of just looked at them and ordered another Fatui agent to take care of them. Physical nor verbal affection are her forte, so Arlecchino would rather show you how much she cares. She’d carry you to her shared room with you, lay you down and pull up the blankets. She’d move her office temporarily into the room so she could still work but in actuality she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your hand while you tell her what happened. Arlecchino spoon feeds you, wipes any crumbs away with a tissue. When you fall asleep, she very carefully holds you to her chest and whispers words of love you’ll be hard-pressed to hear while you’re conscious.

La Signora:

It is a bit melancholic for La Signora - she never had the chance to wipe away her past lover’s tears, but now that she has the ability to finally do so for you, she feels a sense of bittersweetness. But she is very confident in herself, and she would like you to feel the same, so she would not hesitant with her honeyed verbal affirmation. She traces over every inch of your body, pointing out all the perfections and beauty she sees within you. She tells you how lucky she is to have someone like you in her life, after everything she’s been through. Rosalyne hums an old Mondstadt song and asks you mundane questions (Do these shoes match this hairpiece? Does this color go with that one?) Has her moths perch on your shoulder and smother you with warmth.

Pantalone:

Oh boy, he is just so sweet <3. Pantalone’s hugs are definitely the warmest; you feel bundled up not only in his fluffy coat but also in his genuine comfort and care for you, black locks tickling your cheek. He’s another one who's keen on pampering you, only that he can do it more easily. He has access to all the funding and bank reserves. Nothing is unattainable. And his workload is different from the other Harbingers - he can sit you on his lap, listening to your woes and worries while repeatedly signing his signature on documents for the whole day. When it comes to you, Pantalone has a great amount of patience. He has all the tissues ready for you and will hold onto every word you utter, so he can refute it later.

I think that he is big on self-care, especially for you, so when you’re upset he just wants to help you look and feel amazing again while murmuring words of consolation and love. This means that he will adoringly wash and comb your hair while carefully listening to anything you have to say, whether it’s a loud rant or hushed words of sadness. Helps you slip into the comfiest night clothes. Reads you any story you desire in that velvety voice of his. Is very fond of calling you a variety of pet names, like “my love” or “darling”, anything romantic really. Pantalone really hates seeing you cry. It’s one of the only times you would see him without a smile and a creased forehead.

Sandrone:

When Sandrone sees you crying, a burst of… unfamiliar emotion she rarely feels erupts in her chest, completely contrary to what she usually feels after working with puppets all day. Why? She was worried. How? She was upset. Who? She was angry that she couldn’t protect you. Her Automation quickly scoops you up and places you on her lap, letting you curl into your lover’s chest. Swiftly moves you to her private room and lets you cry into her shoulder for as long as you want, silently rubbing your back. (Many wonder if Sandrone’s feet ever touch the floor, always perched atop her robot’s hand. If only they could see how tender she was with you.)

She is intelligent in the most complex engineering, but when it comes to properly comforting you, she is at a loss. But she really does try her best. I feel as though she would implement nondeadly and rather cute features in her robots just to make you smile. (Pull the robot’s finger and a bouquet of flowers comes out! It tips its hat at you and some confetti comes out!) Sandrone would take you out for some fresh air to clear your head. Also provides quality entertainment. What is it, you ask? If you find watching her prototype model Automatons fight to the death, then you’ll surely have a joyous time. (You can’t help but laugh regardless. I’m now thinking about you placing bets on which robot wins with the other Fatui, but you always win because your lover tells you who's going to win before…)

Childe:

Childe would immediately pull you into his tight embrace, with no hesitation. He’s used to the sniveling and tears of his younger siblings, so as soon as he sees your crumpled face he knows exactly what to do. No matter how much you wet his clothes, Childe won’t let you go until you ask him to. He amps the pampering up to the maximum. Blanket cocoons/burritos are an absolute must. He cooks food himself so you could have the warm feeling of home cooking surrounding you. He would literally do all of the household tasks, not allowing you to lift a finger. He’d want to help bathe you, wash your hair, scrape away the grime from the day, gently worship your body by pressing affirmative kisses, and tell you how amazing you are, and how much you mean to him.

Childe is a really good listener and takes what you say very seriously if you’re willing to tell him. If it is a problem he can fix, you can bet he’s going to have some agents solve it, and even take care of it himself if anything. If you want to stay silent, he won’t pressure you, but his touch lets you know that he’s always here for you. Honestly, he probably spoils you more intensely for a few days because he knows that when you cry, you don’t magically wake up the next day fine again. Without fail, Childe would ask you how you’re feeling, monitoring your emotions and feelings. When you’re sad, he is too. How can he ever focus when his love is hurting? Also takes advantage of all possible cuddling positions.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #scaramouche x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #childe x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #la signora x reader #sandrone x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #capitano genshin #genshin dottore

5K notes · View notes

silaswritesthings · 8 months

Text

A private show

Summary: Lyney is used to seeing you among his audience for all of his shows so he’s in a state of unrest when you miss a show. Are you hurt? Do you not find his magic entertaining anymore? He decides to search for you and finds you alone, watching the street beneath you with a sullen expression… now how did you get like this?

Starring: Lyney

Genre: romance, magic (is this a genre lmao)

Warnings: not proof read (i tried a little)

Author’s note: I know what the title says BUT IT'S NOT SMUT. Idk where this came from but I just had to write about Lyney. Likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be appreciated!

Word count: 1266 words

A magician’s pride comes from his audience, the more people he’s able to amaze with his talents the better the magician. This is what Lyney told you at some point and these very words are what gave you the courage to miss one of his shows.

Ever since your friend introduced you to Lyney and Lynette’s magic shows, nothing has been able to entertain you as much anymore. This was not necessarily a bad thing because this new found wonder of yours had resulted in you never missing a single one of their shows. Out of the twins, Lyney was the one who would scan the audience throughout the show to figure out if his audience was truly amazed by his hard work and talent and each time he did so, he never failed to see your face in the crowd.

You became so familiar to him that he began to anticipate your attendance and reactions when regarding his show. Now that he thinks about it, where has he seem you before?

Ah, that’s right.

You were with Charlotte the last time she came to nag him for an interview, “Everyone’s looking to get a piece of the best magician in Fontaine!” She praised but he couldn’t give her that interview. Instead he gave her an unimpressed gaze before dismissing you both. You remained quiet throughout the entire exchange but just as he left, he didn’t miss the chuckle that escaped you in response to this failed interaction.

He never saw you again after that, in fact he didn’t spare a single thought about you until he started noticing your constant attendance to his shows. Initially, after discovering your identity, he believed you would nag him for an interview and showing up for his shows was some form of bribery on your part. This was debunked when he realised as soon as the show would end, you’d disappear.

Sometimes he would actively seek you out but by the time he’s joined the crowd of his audience, you would’ve left. This was understandable because of your profession as a journalist, you were bound to be very busy but… he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Whatever. It’s fine.

At least he could see you during his performances, right? Well… that was true until today where he adorned the stage and you were nowhere in sight. It’s not like you were never late for any of his shows before but as he got into the third part of his act, you couldn't help but feel discouraged. Did you get bored of his shows? Did you find a better magician? Or worse… Were you hurt?

No. This wouldn’t do.

Right after his show, Lyney did not linger and left to search for you. The first thing was to find Charlotte but his thoughts were derailed when he saw you leaning against the railing of a flyover, a ticket- to what Lyney recognised was the magic show he just concluded- was clutched in your hands as you mindlessly stared at the people walking by below you.

Lyney worried about whether you were comfortable with your arms revealed in the cold night and without a second thought, approached you with his coat in his hands. “It’s rather cold today so I thought you might need this.”

You turned to him before your eyes widened slightly. “There’s no need for that, I was just about to head home.”

Lyney’s heart sank. Did you really intentionally miss his show? Does this mean that… to you, his magic was no longer entertaining? “I see.” Despite his affirmation, he placed his coat beside your arms that were draped over the railing before he too leaned against the rail and watched the people go about their evening below you both. You both heard a group of friends excitedly speak about the show Lyney had just conducted, they s[oke lively about his acts and how they truly doubted they were just ‘acts’.

You sighed heavily. “It’s a pity I missed the show. I was quite looking forward to it.”

Lyney turned to you, schooling his initial shock behind a cough. “I noticed you were holding a ticket to the show I hosted this evening.”

You nodded, your shoulders deflating. “I got caught up with an investigation and before I knew it, the sun had already set.”

Lyney pushed himself away from the railing, garnering your attention. You turned as a deck of cards suddenly appeared in his right hand. “Pick a card?”

You pursed your lips, holding back a smile but failed miserably. Amusement flickered in the magician’s gaze and it took everything in you to not look away, instead you diverted your eyes to the cards in his hold and reached out to pick one. This card, however, was nothing like the cards you were used to. It had the drawing of a flower on it and you instantly recognised that it was a blue rose. It was absolutely breathtaking but beyond your knowledge, Lyney had hoped you’d pick this very card because the first time you attended one of his shows you wore a headpiece which had blue rose petals on it. (You wore it occasionally, so he concluded that you must’ve been fond of it.)

“Make sure I don’t see your card.” He spoke, breaking you out of the spell cast upon you by that drawing and you clutched the card to your chest as you watched him expectantly. With the flick of his wrist, the cards in his hand disappeared. “Now now, do you still have the card I gave you?”

You didn’t doubt that you did until you saw that your hands were empty and the card was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you checked around you just incase you dropped it but you search turned out fruitless. You looked at Lyney in amazement. How did he manage to do that?

Lyney chuckled when he saw your expression. “It seems you lost the card, but there’s no need to worry. Just clutch your hands together,” and so you did as told. Lyney’s own gloved hands then covered your own, his touch gentle and warm. “Hm? It seems there something between your hands.” He commented before helping you separate your hands and inside was a single blue rose. You didn’t even notice it’s stem poking out from between your hands. How did he manage to do this?

“This is… incredible.” You mumbled as you watched the rose like it was made out of moonlight. The fabric of a coat brushed against your bare arms and you turned, seeing Lyney drape his coat over your shoulders before he went to stand in front of you once again.

He cast a shy gaze to the rose cradled in your palms before clearing his throat. “Uh, yes. Thank you.”

An awkward silence settled between the both of you. You could not help but feel bashful and did not understand why. “I should get going now.” You said, unconsciously pulling Lyney’s coat closer to you.

“Of course, don’t let me keep you waiting.” Lyney spoke, his words a bit rushed and you chuckled at his obvious embarrassment.

You turned to walk away but stopped, remembering you had one last thing to say. You turned to Lyney with a warm smile and spoke, “Thank you for the private magic show.”

His smile matched yours, his eyes sparkled underneath the light’s of the city and a gentle breeze picked up and his hair fluttered with his. He tipped his hat with a slight bow.

“It has been my pleasure.”

#silaswritesthings #silas #genshin impact #genshin x you #please don’t flop #genshin fluff #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x you #genshin impact lyney #lyney fluff

778 notes · View notes

animereaderinsertwriter · 10 months

Text

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: frenemies to lovers, Cloud's memory problems, reader is an assassin, smut, porn WITH plot

Final Word Count: 9k

Plot summary: A mercenary and an assassin walk into a bar. They bicker, have sex, then go home and freak out about it. The whole thing feels like it should be a joke, but it isn't— and no matter how bad it hurts, they keep coming back for more.

ao3 link

“Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table…”

The entrance to Hell's Maw yawned lazily open, with the wooden door leaning crookedly off of its hinges. The door— made of sturdy oak— had held up well against bar fights between mercenaries, master thieves, and assassins for over a decade; it was riddled with holes from unsuccessful knifings and stray bullets, and sported faint airbrushings of blood from more successful endeavors of the same sort. Really, the agency ought to have replaced it by now as a favor to the bar for letting its employees regularly trash the place— but those stingy bastards couldn't be bothered with anything outside of making money off the hard labor of people bigger, meaner, and certainly more deadly than themselves, and so the door remained as it was.

Fondly, you patted the door as you passed it; the little creak it gave felt like a 'thank you,' and you smiled as you slipped inside the building, largely unnoticed by the Friday night crowd.

Despite its name, Hell's Maw was a cozy, comfortable establishment. There were large, comfortable booths lining the walls, the fabric of their green seats cracked and slightly worn in the middle; a few pool tables with green felt were nestled comfortably in the middle of the room. There was always something soft and smooth playing from the jukebox in the corner, and the lighting was dim enough to feel gentle and ambient, but bright enough that a girl didn't feel the need to squint at her plate for deformed food.

Tonight, a few familiar faces were gathered around the pool tables, holding cues that had been haphazardly duct taped back together a few times. The quiet buzz of conversation was a comforting lull, and there was a pleasant smell drifting out from the kitchen that had you sighing at the thought of a warm meal.

Home sweet home, you thought, smiling as you took in the scene.

"Evening, Kitty," you greeted one of the servers as she passed by. "What's the special tonight?"

Kitty was a short, pleasantly plump woman with a freckled face and flaming hair. To look at her, you'd never know that she spent her evenings catering to smugglers, tramps, thieves, and worse— but she was as strong as she was beautiful, so generally speaking, she got whatever she wanted out of Hell's Maw's regular patrons.

"Shepherd's pie," said the waitress, grinning back as she bussed a table, "but your friend over there is putting everyone off their dinner with that sour look on his face. It's a wonder anyone can keep their drinks down, what with his mean-mugging."

You followed Kitty's gaze to the bar, where a familiar shock of blond hair glowed honey-golden in the incandescent lighting.

To your credit, you tried hard to stifle your laugh.

Sitting on what you had come to think of as your barstool, Cloud Strife looked even more brooding and mysterious than usual. A glass of his choice poison— lemon water with a pinch of mint— was sitting untouched on the mahogany wood in front of him. As he sat there, glaring at his glass, he seemed so miserable that you couldn't even be mad at him for stealing her seat.

Alas, despite your efforts, the sight earned a giggle.

"He looks to be in a fine temper," you noted slyly, wagging your eyes at Kitty.

Kitty huffed.

"He looks like he's swallowed a hornet's nest."

You laughed again.

"I'd best go see what he wants, then," you said. "If it's any comfort to you, I can't imagine he'll stay very long."

"Oh, he's no trouble," said Kitty mischievously. "As for myself, don't care what face he makes when he's got a face like that."

You giggled. He really was handsome, that bastard.

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that. Later, Kitty."

"Later," said Kitty with her signature wink.

As you approached the bar, you wondered at Cloud's presence there. It was a rare day that he arrived at the bar before you, and even rarer that he should be waiting for you and not sitting in a booth with a friend— an actual friend— or chatting up some girl at the pool tables. You couldn't recall a time when he'd been this forward with his presence at your little meeting place, and you'd be lying if you said the newness of it all didn't set you on edge.

Cloud Strife in general set you on edge.

"Hello, first class," you greeted him, smiling.

As he turned to acknowledge you, you slid gracefully into the seat next to him, signaling to the bartender for a little something sweet and strong.

"Cutthroat," he returned without malice.

You turned your best pout on him.

"Now, now, you're being uncharitable. You're in my seat, and I haven't even considered cutting your throat." You thought for a moment. "Well, until now at least "

He raised a brow, in a moment both teasing and deadly.

"If it's any consolation, though, it's more of a scientific interest than anything," you added as an afterthought. "It's not often that I get contracts for anyone like a SOLDIER, you know."

Blue-ringed green peered at you with familiar, friendly distaste.

"I'm not stupid enough to be one of your marks," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "I think with my upstairs head, which is more than I can say for the guys you get paid to kill."

It was a bit naive of him to assume such a thing. No man was above being one of your marks.

"Then praise be that the world isn't full of good, right-honorable ex-SOLDIERs like you," you shot sweetly back at him. "Poor little me would be out of a job."

Cloud let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, then sobered and stared moodily into his glass of water. He looked like a petulant child who'd been sent to his room as punishment.

"Come on, why so sour?" you prodded, trying to keep your tone teasing. "Did you get turned down this evening before I got here? If so, I'm sure the pretty brunette in the corner would go home with you— she's been staring at you since I walked in."

He scowled.

"Why does it always have to be about sex with you?" he snapped as the bartender handed you your glass of fruity bliss. "Are the men you seduce to kill not doing it for you anymore?"

You took the insult in stride.

"Why?" you challenged, leaning forward, eyes flicking up to meet his. "Curious?"

Cloud was the first to look away.

Somehow, it was always this. He would come to you in moments of woundedness or weakness and pick a fight that he couldn’t finish. Fights about work, fights about drinks, fights about the sex that neither of you were having, and fights about fighting just for fighting's sake— too often, you found yourselves here, in this endless cycle of strange and hateful amicability. Why, you didn't know— but it wasn't like that was going to stop you from playing your little game.

"Why are you in my seat?" You began again, changing tactics. "You know that's my seat. I'm fairly certain the groove of my ass cheeks are worn into the shape of it by now."

"Wanted to be," he replied with a little shrug of powerful shoulders. "It's a nice seat. Got a problem with it?"

You hummed, sipping from your drink.

"Not at all. Just curious as to what's wrong with you today."

Cloud cut his eyes at you.

"Who says there's something wrong with me?"

"Oh, there's something wrong with everyone here. The fact that you're picking a fight with me today is especially telling, though."

"Not picking a fight," he grumbled.

"Of course not," you replied, placating. "Now— would you like to tell me what's on your mind, or should I try and guess?"

Cloud stayed silent, but took another drink from his minty lemon water.

Guessing it was, then.

"Don't know which girl to pick again?" you scanned the bar. There were plenty of Cloud's type there— sweet innocents that looked like they needed protecting. "I can help like last time. Blondie by the pool table has got great tits and a sweet smile, but she'll want to do it missionary the whole time. The brunette I was talking about earlier is probably a bit kinkier, if that's what you're i—"

Cloud moved to get up, disgusted.

Wrong guess, then.

"I'm teasing," you told him, tugging his arm. "Sit down, drama queen."

Cloud eyed you warily, but reluctantly sat back down.

"You know," you said gently, "this would be easier if you could just tell me what's going on."

Cloud's expression shuttered closed. It was as if a mask had dropped into place over his features, locking them into a single blank expression.

"Nothing's going on. I told you, I'm fine."

You were beginning to feel frustrated. Hell's Maw was a haven for damaged colleagues of a hellacious profession. Most of them came for one of two reasons: to have sex, or to play house in a place where the job didn't matter. Cloud was the former, you were the latter. You fulfilled his need to banter and blow off steam, and he fulfilled your need to care and watch out for someone. It wasn't like you were friends. Currently, he wasn’t fulfilling your needs, and you weren't fulfilling his— so why were either of you even there?

"You're a shit liar, Cloud Strife," you huffed. "If all you're going to do is act like an ass, then you can get out of my seat and find someone else to abuse with your presence."

He shook his head.

"I doubt someone like you could understand."

You leaned back in your seat. An odd hurt pierced your chest.

You knew your lives were different. You knew he disapproved of yours. That was an old fight that had already scabbed over into little more than scars on your psyche; but if he wanted to pick it until it bled once more, you would indulge him with scratches of your own.

"Someone like me," you repeated, the words bitter as lye soap in your mouth. “Tell me, Cloud— what, exactly, do you think I am?”

You stared deeply into his eyes, challenging him. As you did so, you noted the mako-greenish tinge in the center of his iris, and not for the first time, the weight of your secret pulsed within you, threatening to fizzle out from you in white-hot sparks.

“I think you’re a murderer,” he told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re a contract killer, and what’s worse, you use your body to lure men to their deaths like some kind of demented, two-bit—”

You had heard these words before. Refusing to hear them again, you drew back your hand and made to strike him; you didn’t get far, though, before Cloud’s SOLDIER reflexes proved their worth and caught your hand before the slap could land. Even through his glove, you could feel the mako beneath his skin, and you shivered.

“I told you before,” you said, speaking carefully, willing control to return to you. “Don’t call me a whore ever again. If you do, it will be the last word you say.”

Gently, you nudged the blade in your other hand against his ribs, and he flinched backwards, apparently not having seen or anticipated the movement despite the obvious distraction of the slap.

“I don’t have to say it,” he replied calmly, tightening his grip on your wrist. “You put the words in my mouth, so if the shoe fits, then fucking wear it.”

The flow of mako within him was strong, pulling at you physically like the opposite side of a magnet. A breath, then two, and it was under control— but those words cut deep. Hearing them from someone like Cloud cut even deeper.

"You know what, I don't have to take this from you," you said, trying to take your arm back. He didn’t let you, instead holding you fast against your will. Feeling vengeful, you added, "Especially not when you're such a hypocrite."

Cloud's expression was impassive, marble-esque, but the hardening of his eyes told you that you'd hit the mark.

"Excuse me?"

You smirked.

"What, you think I don't know what you get up to around here? How you fuck around with these girls and that pretty barmaid at Seventh Heaven? And yet you think I’m the whore? Get a grip, man."

"What?"

There it was— hurt and indignation that mirrored your own flashed in his eyes, and you knew you had him.

"Oh, you heard me," you said, tilting your head like another girl might for a kiss. "I'd bet top dollar that your big-titty Tifa would give her right arm to play housewife for you, and you play right along with her, the poor thing. Does she know you come here every week for an easy lay?"

Cloud snarled, enraged, and roughly threw your wrist away from himself as though disgusted.

"I've never touched Tifa!"

You grinned wryly, massaging your wrist, and said,

"And don't you know it kills her?"

It occurred to you then that you might have gone a bit too far. Cloud's hands were balled into white-knuckled fists, and he looked as if he might hit you. A moment of tense silence swept over the both of you, a tug of war of will-he-won't-he between you— and then as he always did when it came to matters of the heart, Cloud Strife took the easy way out.

He turned away.

"Coming here was a fucking mistake," he growled, fitting that giant, way-too-Freudian sword to his lean, muscled back. "I don't know why I fucking bothered— of course you wouldn’t take this conversation seriously."

"What conversation?" you shot back. "If you think shit-talking me to my face is a conversation, you've got bigger problems than leading some girl on."

He rounded on you.

"I'm not leading anyone on. I don't feel for Tifa like that and she knows it."

You arched a brow. "Oh, so you've told her?"

Cloud faltered.

"Well— no."

"Then is she just supposed to guess?"

Cloud scowled, no doubt ready to double down on his point— but you, suddenly conscious of the setting and the kind of hurt it would cause if talk like that got back to Seventh Heaven, moved closer and said seriously,

"That girl loves you. Everyone from here to topside knows except you. You break her heart, and I feel for her. Every woman has cried the tears she cries for you— most are just smart enough to cut thoughtless, careless bastards like you off."

Cloud shook his head, expression closed.

"No way. Tifa's smarter than that."

You smiled, though it ached.

"No woman is," you told him gently. "Love is our gift, and our curse."

"You're full of shit."

Ah, that was it, then. Once he began to resort to blind insults, you knew you'd won.

"No, I'm right, and it bothers you— and you know what else I think?"

Cloud folded his arms.

"Can I pay you not to tell me?"

You ignored him.

"I think that you think I should be as tortured and as guilty as you feel, and it bothers you even more that I'm not. I understand this world, live in it, accept it, and so you believe that I am just as bad as everyone else in this stupid bar. And that, Cloud, is why you’re here right now, so let me give you this piece of wisdom."

You caught his arm again as he tried to turn away, feeling the warmth of him beneath your hand.

"I have no guilt, and I have no shame. It is the world who should be ashamed for having need of me. Of having need of us."

In that moment, you found yourself nose-to-nose with Cloud, sharing his breath. His eyes— his beautiful eyes— were trained on yours, calculating, analytical. His breath smelled of lemon. You wanted to taste the sourness of it from his lips, feel the burn of its acid in your split lip.

"Don't be ashamed," you murmured, forcing your eyes to return to meet his gaze. "You are what they made you, but you survived. Never, ever be ashamed."

The place where the skin of your palm met the skin of his forearm burned with electric warmth. You found that touching this prickly, untouchable man felt like holding a live wire. From the very beginning, you had known that Cloud Strife was a powerhouse, a living weapon; somehow, though, you had neglected to realize what kind of power he had over you before this skin-to-skin contact.

After a moment, something dawned on you, and you were horrified. Just like Tifa, just like every woman watching them and seething with jealousy, you wanted him.

"I hate you," he said, but moved closer. "I hate how easily you justify this life."

"I accept your hate," you said, "but you can't deny what I've said is true."

"I hate that too." He moved his arm away from your hand, bringing his hand up to touch your neck, his thumb resting in the hollow of your throat. He could easily kill you, even with your knife still at his ribs. You fought against the urge to close your eyes and let the sensation of it consume you.

"I do wonder why you came here then," you mused softly, "why you're bothering with talking to me when you could take one of these little fawns home with you."

"I don't want them," he said almost distractedly, his eyes dark and intense on yours. "At best, they're a means to an end."

This was news to you. You'd watched him take them home night after night like clockwork.

"Then what do you want?"

He never once broke his gaze with you. You never even saw him blink.

"Would that I knew."

Cloud tilted his head. You thought you had imagined it, until his nose bumped yours.

Was this what he had come here for?

You weren't sure. Either way, he lingered back, unwilling to close the distance. If you wanted to kiss him, you would have to choose it for yourself; if you wanted him, you had to make the active, conscious choice to cut yourself on his edge, and take the pain that would come with it.

You weighed the costs, found them worthy. You leaned forward, closing the gap, and let him kiss you.

Oh, what a kiss.

The act itself was simple. It was only the touching of flesh, soft and surprisingly gentle. The mako-power under his skin pulsed against the places where you touched— your lips, his hand at your throat, your palm against his bicep— and a powerful twinge of want jerked the nerves between your legs, wanting, needing more.

Distantly, it occurred to you that if any of the kisses you'd shared with your marks had been like this, you would have been the one lying dead at the end of it all.

"Do you want to leave?" you asked once your lips had parted from his.

"Depends on where you want to go," he said, nose still brushing yours. "I'm not interested in going back to mine."

Of course not, you thought bitterly. Tifa might see.

Ego bruised, you decided to play the game.

"Who said we were going to anyone's place?" You hummed, your lashes lowered. "An alleyway might work just as well for what you have in mind."

Cloud's eyes darkened further at that.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Filthy sex in a back alley where anyone could see." He scoffed, pupils dilated. "Disgusting."

He went in for another kiss, and you stepped back.

"Who said anything about sex, either?" you teased, eyeing him up and down. "Just 'cause your usual crowd lets you take what you want doesn't mean I will. Not everyone wants Shinra’s sloppy seconds."

Cloud frowned.

"Don't fuck with me," he said, deadly serious. "I don't take that shit well."

At that, you softened. Perhaps that had been a bit too far. There was clearly some amount of bad blood between this particular SOLDIER and Shinra, and you had poked that bruise knowingly.

"I'm sorry," you said, sincere. "It was wrong of me to tease you."

You extended your hand.

"Come on. We'll go to my place."

For a moment, you didn't think he'd take it— but eventually, he placed his hand in your own and let you lead him away from Hell's Maw.

On your way out, you passed a few booths of familiar faces that turned their heads at the sight of the two of you leaving together— but just as you were starting to wonder if you'd made the right decision, Kitty caught your eye. The waitress gave you an all-knowing smile and winked.

It was the closest thing to a blessing that you were going to get.

Outside of a job or a hookup, Cloud was not often outside at night under the plate.

Now, in the awkward silence between himself and (Y/N), he had time to look and reflect. The combination of maintenance lights and the soft glow of energy throughout the plate itself was a poor imitation of a sky full of stars, but it was good enough in the absence of another alternative. It dimly lit the dusty, barren streets, casting everything in the greenish-gray of mako energy-fuelled lights; when he wasn't peering into suspicious shadows, Cloud caught glimpses of (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, noting the way the unnatural light made her skin appear strange and foreign beneath it. Before now, he had not thought her skin to be so familiar that he would notice a difference.

Tonight was a remarkably bad idea.

"We're almost there," (Y/N) said to him, slowing her walk until she stopped to face him. She peered up at him with piercing eyes, and Cloud suddenly got the feeling that he was being tested.

"Something bothering you?" he ventured, resisting the urge to check over his shoulder for some unseen enemy.

"You could say that."

(Y/N) did not drop her gaze; Cloud refused to give her any ground by being the first to look away for the second time in the evening.

"Why are we here?" she asked him, her eyes throwing the light of the plate back to him in little glowing pinprick reflections. "I wasn't thinking earlier, not really— I let my baser instincts lead me this far. Before we go any further, I have to know what you're in this for."

An excellent question, that— it was one Cloud had asked himself a thousand times before he made the decision to show up at Hell's Maw.

I'm here ecause you drive me to distraction, he wanted to say. Because you're so beautiful, and so deadly, and I have wanted a taste of you since I first laid eyes on you. Because after meeting with you every week for months, moments with you feel like the only thing that's really mine in all the world.

Instead, he did not speak, not for a long time. Patiently, she watched him, staunch in her decision to remain where she was until he gave her an answer.

Because I want you is the answer he should have given, mostly because it was the truest one. The answer he gave was stupid and cowardly, and only true in the vaguest sense.

"To scratch an itch," he said. When she raised a brow, he added, "A deeper one than usual."

He hoped distantly that she could understand his reticence. He could not tell her what he felt without feeling foolish; he could not even acknowledge it to himself without feeling a traitor to the feelings he was expected to bear for others. Tonight, he could have chosen from dozens of women, and at least two of them were as dear to his heart as his very own flesh— but none of them were her. (Y/N) was beauty and grace and nightshade; she was the honey in every trap, the woman he wasn't supposed to want, but wanted carnally. She had no history with him, only the present, and yet he felt that she understood him like no one else ever had.

Don't be ashamed, she'd told him earlier, her gaze steady and strong like steel, her voice soft and gentle as silk. You are what they made you, but you survived. Never, ever be ashamed.

Cloud had spent so much of his time ashamed of everything. Ashamed of his roots, of his failures, of all the things he remembered, of all the things he didn't— and it was as if she had felt the badness in him, sensed it without him saying, and accepted it as a part of him. In her, there was no blind hero-worship, no transference of feelings from a risky rescue. No, she was simply the other side of his coin. She knew him because she was him.

"An itch," she repeated, and he felt as though she were flaying him open with her eyes.

"An itch," he replied, unable to say anything else.

She took a moment, considering. She must have found something within him worthy, because she gave a nod and walked on as though the conversation had never happened.

If someone had asked Cloud that night what her house had looked like, he could not have said. He would not have known the color if it had been neon orange with fireworks shooting out of the front of it; by the time he should have taken notice of it, he'd been thoroughly distracted with (Y/N)'s mouth on his own.

How that happened was a mystery also. One moment, he was walking along with her, slightly behind— the next, he was grabbing her arm, overcome with the desire to see her face once more, his heart somehow damaged by her uncharacteristic silence, and then he was kissing her because he could, because she let him, and because he was swiftly becoming utterly obsessed with the taste of her. It was filthy, deviant stuff, sucking on the length of her tongue, holding her to him by the very hair of her head; eventually, he decided that he wanted her closer still and simply lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

From there, he'd been operating mostly blind. She gave him directions, intimately familiar with her route home, and guided him even to the very last detail of how high he should lift his foot to make it up the front porch steps. If either of them had not been who they were, such a thing would likely have been impossible— but with an assassin's precision and a SOLDIER's grace and ability, they'd navigated the journey just fine.

At first, it seemed a shame and a nuisance that, even after they'd done so well getting there, (Y/N) insisted on opening the lock to her front door— but then Cloud got a magnificent view of her backside, and remembered that, as an ass man, it was practically his duty to come behind her and press himself against her with hungry neck-kisses as she fiddled with the lock. His cock, already half-hard, was infinitely pleased with the rocking motion he'd taken up, grinding against her ass; she, apparently, was also pleased as she pressed back against him, encouraging the friction with her own body as his teeth scraped over the lobe of her ear.

“Fuck,” she swore, her hands shaking as she finally managed to slide the key home, using it to turn the lock. “That feels good.”

Never one to let a compliment lead to complacently, Cloud licked a line up her neck, tasting her sweat and the bitter tang of her perfume; his tongue found the lobe of her ear once more, then delved into the cavity of it. (Y/N) shivered at the motion as the door fell away, and Cloud guided the both of them inside, kicking the door shut with a heavy boot.

Her home was smaller than he had expected. For some reason, Cloud had imagined her to live in a palace, or something close to it— certainly, the amount of money her jobs paid could keep her more than comfortably in one, if there was one to be found below the plate— but instead of great columns and outrageous interior decorating, Cloud found soft carpet, flourishing plants, and rows of bookshelves filled with knick-knacks and photographs. All in all, (Y/N)'s place just seemed sort of… normal.

"Bedroom's this way," she called out over her shoulder, smirking— but Cloud caught her arm, stopping her.

The idea of knowing the way she kept her room— the intimacy and implications of that knowledge—was too much to bear.

"Here's fine," he said, touching his nose to hers, then tilting his head. "Kiss me."

And boy, did she ever. Her hands threaded through his hair, pulled him to her; her tongue slid past his lips and he groaned into her mouth, cock jumping at her passion. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her pelvis to meet his own, grinding against her; to his surprise, he found his hands knocked away, replaced by her own on him, which began the process of unbuttoning and unzipping. Soon, his cock was free in her soft, graceful hands, and he couldn't even bring himself to be ashamed of the moan he gave as she spat into her hand and stroked him.

"I wanna suck you," she said breathlessly against his lips. "S'that okay with you?"

There was really only one answer to that.

"Fuck yeah," he replied.

He'd meant the words to be confident, even commanding— instead, they came out like a plea. Not that (Y/N) seemed to notice as she dropped to her knees before him, now eye-level with his gently-curving sex. No, he thought as she placed her hands on the crease of his thighs, playing teasingly in the fine dusting of hair there. She didn't seem to be bothered at all.

"You're a big boy," she said with a mischievous grin, her lips only a breath away from his cockhead. "I thought the sword might be over-compensation, but now I'm starting to rethink things a bit."

Cloud would be lying if he said that didn't stroke his ego just a little.

"Just shut up and get on with it," he said, heat rushing to his face. "You can't talk and suck dick too."

She began slowly, so slowly Cloud thought he might die. She kissed his thighs, his belly, leaving his cock untouched; then came teasing kitten licks to his tip, teasing him, delving into his slit to lap at precome. He bucked his hips at her, impatient, and (Y/N) looked up at him with a smirk and said,

"If you don't like how I do it, do it yourself."

So saying, she grabbed a large, gloved hand and placed it on the back of her head, giving him his cue as her mouth returned to his cock. Cloud, shocked, didn't know what to do with himself for a moment— but it didn't take long for him to figure it out. He held her head— so small in comparison to his hands— and fucked her face, shoving his cock into her mouth over and over again as she tried to keep up with her hands and her tongue. She was hot and wet around him, her throat smoothly textured as he fucked deeper and deeper. It felt good to take that kind of control, he noticed, to take his pleasure from her by force.

(Y/N) gagged a little as he thrust roughly, and he thought he might come on the spot.

Perhaps it felt a little too good.

Rougher than he meant to be, he pulled her back by the hair at the base of her skull, gripping the strands close to the scalp. She looked up at him then, teary, breathless, and smiling, and Cloud was struck at once by how ravaged she looked. Gone was the kitten that had teased him at the bar; gone was the confidante who had confronted him about his intentions. In her place was a woman of pleasures, a woman of fleshly desires. This (Y/N), he hardly knew.

"Open your mouth," he said, wiping saliva from the corner of her lips. She did so, sticking out her tongue— and without quite knowing why, he spat into her mouth. A thick glob of spit dropped from his mouth to hers, landing on her outstretched pink tongue; Cloud, feeling dizzy with want at the sight, leaned to seal it with a kiss. As he did so, she moaned against him, lacing her fingers in her hair, and he found himself pulled to the floor with her, his cock in her hand and her tongue in his mouth.

Piece by piece, he undressed her. First to go was her shirt, followed by her bra; ever greedy, Cloud moved to take off his gloves so that he could feel the soft skin of her breasts in his hands, but she stopped him, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Leave them on," she told him, placing his gloved hands on her body, just over her pretty, perfect, and probably sensitive nipples. "I like the texture."

And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing Cloud had ever heard.

Next to go was her shorts. Made of tough black denim, they were hard to slide over the swell of her hips; thankfully, though, her painties came off with them in the struggle, leaving her sex bare and wet in the chilled air of her apartment. With that, she was finally, gloriously naked.

Except, of course, the gun that was strapped to her torso.

It was a mid-size blaster, whose thin holster and belt were nestled snugly against her skin. The gun and all that held it were a sexy matte black, and Cloud quirked a brow at (Y/N) in question.

"What, don't you know I'm always packing?" she teased him, leaning backward to unbuckle the belt that held the holster to her belly. To do so, she stretched her arms behind her back, arching so her tits were in his face, and Cloud was suddenly distracted.

With SOLDIER strength, he pulled (Y/N) to him by the hips. Sneaking one hand up her back, he leaned down to kiss between her breasts, then more to the right, until his mouth enclosed her nipple. Her moan was heady; without thinking about it, he moved the hand at her back to play with the other nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers, and she threw her head back, pressing into him.

"Yes," she pleaded, her hands tight in his hair, "Fuck, that feels good."

For good measure, he licked and sucked at her skin, leaving love-bites in his wake. Even though he knew he'd not see them, there would be some pride in knowing that they were there, a pleasant, aching reminder of this moment.

Cloud could have spent forever in the pillow of her breasts— but his cock was so hard that it was getting difficult to ignore the throbbing between his legs.

"Turn around," he said, unbuckling his shoulder guard. "I want to fuck you on your hands and knees."

It was a partial truth at best. While fucking (Y/N) from begind was a regular fantasy of his, there was an ulterior motive behind it. He wanted both of them to be naked, but he didn't want her to have to see his scars. They were many and jagged all across his body, from training, from fighting, from losing; up close, he sort of looked like a patchwork quilt. Not exactly pleasant to look at, in his opinion.

"Bossy," she fussed, but did as she was told. Soon, her knees were spread, her back arched to expose the wetness between her legs, and Cloud had never felt the need to undress so quickly before in all his life. It was fast, messy, and careless, but he was naked enough in under ten seconds to call it a win as he lined himself up with her entrance.

"Ready?" he asked her, pushing his self control to the limit.

Irritated, she slung her head over her shoulder and said, "Cloud Strife, it you don't put your dick inside me right now I swear to—"

She didn't get to finish her threat. She was choked off the moment his cock slid home, her entire body moving with the force of it. Enveloped in warm, wet heat, Cloud pulled fully out before pressing back in again, biting back a moan as he watched himself disappear inside her folds.

After another slow, lazy thrust, he leaned over so that his chest was touching her back and began fucking her in earnest; he never pulled out very far before he was pounding in and in and in—

"Cat got your tongue?" he murmured into her ear, wrapping one arm around her to gently lock her head next to his as he fucked her. "Usually you have so much to say."

All she said in response was a single, strangled moan.

After that, Cloud lost himself. For him, nothing existed except the act itself; the world extended only to the places their bodies touched, slick and sweaty and obscene. His lips and tongue were busy, kissing and sucking at her neck and licking the salt from her flesh. It took a while for him to realize that the low, growling sound he was hearing came from deep within his own chest, and even then he couldn't manage to muster any shame.

"M'close," he murmured in her ear, tasting the shell of it once more.

"Inside," was all she said, and that in itself was enough to send Cloud hurling over the edge.

He fucked her through his orgasm, only pulling away once he could bear the sensitivity no longer. Still half-mad with wanting, he moved (Y/N) bodily, intending to finish what he'd started with his mouth and fingers— but when he did, he found her shaking, with tears welling in her eyes.

Horrified, Cloud drew away. He hadn't realized he'd been so rough. He hadn't realized that she'd been reacting this way. He hadn't—

"Hey, don't get squeamish now," (Y/N) told him with a weak little smile that made him feel sick. "Calm down, drama queen— I just have a m-mako sensitivity."

"Mako sensitivity?" he parroted, his own voice sounding strangled even to himself.

She nodded and sat up, though it seemed an effort.

"You— You're a walking b-ball of mako energy," she explained. "With you inside me, and with— well, with—"

She faltered, but Cloud nodded. He could imagine perfectly well what she meant.

"You should have told me," he accused her, suddenly angry and very, very hurt. "I wouldn't have— you shouldn't have—"

All he could think of was mako poisoning, somehow his, somehow another's, how sick he'd been, how very close to death he'd come. He'd put her at risk of such a thing. He was a freak, and worse, a fool, for ever thinking he could have—

With slow, pained movements, she placed a hand on his arm.

"It's not like that," she said. "I— I didn't know. I could feel it, but I didn't think—"

She pitched forward suddenly, and Cloud moved to catch her.

"Easy," he told her, and she looked up at him with a small, weak smile.

"Gimme a second," she said as he steadied her. "I'll be right as rain after this."

She withdrew her hand and held it out for him to inspect. Sparks crackled between her fingers, and Cloud flinched backwards, instinctively defensive.

"You're not holding materia," he realized, dumbfounded. "What the hell is this?"

"Dunno," she replied, shrugging as though she'd just shown him a neat party trick and not a literal physical impossibility. "I've always been able to feel mako, and when I get overexposed, this happens."

"That's— that's impossible," he said, because it was.

(Y/N) merely shrugged looking at him with soft eyes.

"I didn't think it would happen with you. It's just sort of my secret. I get close to mako, get a little sick, and then I have to expel it like this or else it just doesn't get any better. It's… a gift and a curse."

Cloud just stared at her, amazed.

"With your permission, though," she continued, mischief glinting in her eyes, "I'd like to try something. Y'know, since we have this issue and all anyway."

Without really thinking, Cloud nodded, and then her hands were on him. The hair on his neck and arms raised as she dragged the pads of her fingers from the base of his neck to the end of his torso, the sensation of her touch unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The air tasted metallic, like ozone; when she stuck her fingers in his mouth, it was like licking a battery. Already, his cock was jumping, excited by her touch, and then she was kissing him, threading her electric hands through his hair. Overcome, Cloud wrapped his arms around her, feeling stupid and lust-drunk and so, so good.

"Touch me more," she told him, electricity popping in the spaces between her fingers. As he did, the popping increased, and he could feel the discharge of her power in the increasingly coppery taste of the air. Each breath was like a mouthful of blood; Cloud was willing to drown in it if it meant her hands would never leave his body.

"Lemme eat you out," he said, kissing the curve of her breast. "I owe you an orgasm."

She pulled back and raised a brow.

"After you made a mess down there?"

"S'the best part," he grumbled, a bit wounded— but before he could complain too much, he found himself pulled forward as (Y/N) leaned back. She hit the floor with a gentle thud, and Cloud seized the opportunity for what it was.

With careful and precise tongue, he tasted her. First, he lapped at her clit, relishing in the sounds she made, then made it a point to gather the semen that had mixed with her wetness, slurping obscenely as he cleaned her folds. Above him, (Y/N) groaned.

"Why is that so hot?" he heard her gasp as she leaned onto her elbows to watch him. "It should not be that— oh, fuck."

Cloud smirked against her sex and licked a long stripe upwards. With his mouth on her clit, he took a freshly un-gloved hand and began to finger her, curling the digits to reach the place that would make her arch her back and cry—

"Fuck!"

Hearing her swear had never been so erotic before now— but Cloud would be damned if that wasn't a sound he'd love to hear on loop forever.

Before long, she was close. He could feel it in the quivering of her thighs, the pulsing of her sex. He kept a steady rhythm, and then she was at her climax, falling hard with the rush of sensation and friendly, feel-good chemicals that left her limp and boneless beneath him.

Perfect for him to continue fucking, now that his cock was hard and leaking again.

"Round two?" he asked, scarcely daring to hope she'd be ready— but then she sat up with a smile and said,

"Hell yeah."

And so it was, over and over, until they were both spent, and Cloud passed the fuck out on her living room floor, satisfied.

When you woke, it was to an empty floor and no note. You were alone in the place where you'd had the most fantastic fuck of your life.

Some part of you had known it would be this way. You had only known him for a handful of months, but in that time, you'd learned that Cloud was an avoidant man by nature— and you were doubtless not the first of his hookups to end this way. Still, the idea that he could just leave after such intimacy was… distressing, for some reason.

Surprisingly, though, that feeling was easy to shake off once you left the dubious comfort of your floor and started planning your work for the week. Blond assholes who happen to give fantastic head amount to very little to a woman on a mission; you thought of him often, but the thoughts were small and benign, always curious and never of hurt or longing, as you had thought they might be. What had happened had simply happened, no more.

Then Mako Reactor 5 fell to terrorist attacks, and the week went to shit so fast that you got whiplash.

Before the reactor fell, you had considered not going to the bar that weekend. You didn't need an end-of-the week drink that badly; Cloud could take the hint and take a week off from the bar the next week and you'd never have to see each other again. After the reactor and your subsequent compromised mission, though? The devil himself could be in attendance that day and you'd sit in his lap and sell your soul for a drink.

So, on Friday, you headed to Hell's Maw as usual. There was a possibility, you knew, of some awkwardness if Cloud was there, but frankly, it wouldn't be the first time you'd avoided an ill-advised hookup in a bar before— surely you could survive this as well. It would just be some weird eye contact and then a little ignoring, and everything would be as good as new.

What you weren't expecting was for Cloud to be perched on your fucking seat again, early and apparently waiting for you.

"Oh boy," you said to no one in particular— and, as if SOLDIER had given him superior hearing as well as inhuman strength and durability, the bastard immediately looked over his shoulder and met your eyes over the Friday night crowd. On the other side of him, you noticed at least five empty glasses and a half-drunk sixth. They weren't water glasses, either. No, they were short, fat whiskey glasses, and, leaning halfway off of his stool, Cloud looked properly sloshed.

Really, there was only one respectable thing to do in a situation like this.

You turned on your heel and left, walking as fast as you could in the opposite direction.

Would that you could have been faster. You had barely gotten two sidewalk cracks away from the bar when a large, warm hand curled around your arm, stopping you.

"Cloud, get off me," you huffed, pulling your arm against his unbreakable grip.

"No," he said simply, and bodily turned you to face him. When he did, he used a bit too much of his strength, and you ended up nose-to-nose, sharing breath.

"If this is about the other night—"

Cloud didn't let you finish. He surged forward, sealing those words with a drunken, sloppy kiss that was somehow still as electric as your first. One of his gloved hands rested at the base of your skull, cradling your head, and the other wandered to your hip, pulling you close enough to feel the growing tent in his pants.

Heaven help you, but you weren't sure if you wanted to stop him.

"M'sorry," he said against your lips, pulling away only far enough to speak. "Didn't really mean to do that."

Then what did you mean? you wondered, but before you could ask, Cloud peeled himself away from you until the only thing connecting you was his hand resting on the junction of your neck and shoulder. The new distance, though slight, was jarring.

"M'sorry," he repeated. "I— we made a mistake."

Oh boy.

"Spare me the dramatics," you said, tired already. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Cloud. I wasn't expecting anything from you other than what I got."

"S'not that." Cloud averted his eyes, shameful, swaying. "I, uh. Shouldn't have put you in that position."

What, does he think I have carpet burn? You wondered, but then Cloud was looking at you with such raw vulnerability that you couldn't even crack a joke at his expense.

"I don't regret what we did last week," you told him gently. "I'm sorry if you do, but if this is out of some kind of misplaced honor—"

"I'm involved in things," he told you in a tight voice that felt as if he'd said them before. "Dangerous things."

If there was any relevance of that claim to their current situation, you certainly couldn't find it.

"You're a dangerous man," you shrugged. "It's one of your better qualities. I'm a dangerous woman myself, so I think that tracks, don't you?"

Cloud shook his head.

“It’s—” he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

If you had learned anything about Cloud, it was that ‘complicated’ was generally code for ‘Shinra’. From there, it didn’t take much to imagine exactly what he meant.

“The reactor,” you hazarded, heart filling with dread. “That was the job Tifa lined up for you. Holy shit, your girlfriend is a fucking eco-terrorist, what the hell—”

“— she is not my girlfriend—”

“Look, pal, that’s definitely not the part of that sentence we need to be focusing on right now.”

You reached out a hand, meaning to reach out and draw Cloud closer. Instead, as you moved forward, you were met with cold steel raised against your neck. Cloud’s eyes were wild with distress and distrust, but the set of his mouth was frozen with coldness that meant he would do what he felt necessary if you pushed him.

“Hey,” you said to him softly. “I’m not your enemy here.”

Slowly, you lifted her hands in surrender. Still uneasy, Cloud lowered his sword. As soon as it was clear of you, you stepped forward into his space, close enough that he could not bring the length of the sword between you. Cloud shifted, trying to move back to where he could use his sword if he needed to, but you stopped him with a hand to his forearm.

“Come home with me,” you said, brushing your thumb over the flesh of his arm. “You’re too drunk to be swinging that thing around, and if you want to talk, it’s best we do that in private. Okay?”

“M’not drunk,” he complained, but the look behind he gave you behind lowered lashes said he didn’t mind going home with you anyway. With swaying movement, he hefted the sword onto his back; once it was secure, he gestured for you to lead the way.

The trip to yours was short and uneventful. Once the door to your home was shut safely behind you, Cloud grabbed you once more, his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. His touch was warm and so, so tempting— but you gently pried yourself away. He was a wreck, and you weren't about to take advantage of that even if it was what you both wanted.

"Sit on the couch with me," you requested, grabbing his hand. "Let's talk."

As always, Cloud was resistant to the whole talking thing. Instead of poking and prodding, though, you took a different approach this time; you allowed the silence to creep and crawl between the two of you, swishing its tail like some irritated feline, letting it fester until Cloud was ready to bat it away and say what he had come to say. In the meantime, your hands stayed busy, touching, feeling, grounding the man before you. He relaxed into you, muscles loosening; he leaned until his head rested comfortably on your chest. The steady hum of mako buzzed in your head, lulling you almost to sleep— but then, just when you weren't expecting it, Cloud began to speak.

"I made an oath to someone, a long time ago. "

You pulled away enough to see his face, your mouth agape.

"You're married?"

"What? No!" Cloud made a face of horror and distress. "I— There's a lot of things I don't remember, okay?"

Your brows knit.

"So… you could be married."

"Oh, leave off of that, will you? I'm not married! I'd remember that if I was."

There was a note of hesitation in his voice that you didn't like.

"So, this oath," you said, touching the skin of his cheek. "What was it for?"

Cloud shrugged.

"I only have the vaguest notion. I don't remember the words. It's like— it's like the only way to keep it is to continue fighting, to be in this constant state of war— and yet, that feels wrong, too. It consumes me." He looked down at his hands. "It's like that oath is binding me to something bigger than myself… and as a result, I've gotten mixed up with some pretty dangerous stuff."

"Like?"

Cloud looked at you then, his eyes as heavy as they were beautiful.

"Like saving the world."

You did your damnedest not to laugh. It was a near thing, but you succeeded— if only by inches.

"So, let me get this straight… you're now an eco-terrorist because in a time you don't remember, you've taken an oath to save the planet?"

Cloud's jaw locked.

"It's bigger than that. Much bigger than that. Shinra is corrupt, they kill innocent people— and Shinra's not the only thing." He looked away. "I can't talk about it. It's dangerous. You could get hurt, and the more you know makes you a bigger target."

There it was again, that concern. It had been a long time since someone cared if you were hurt. You tried not to let it take away your objectivity.

"I assume Tifa knows?"

So maybe your objectivity was a little screwy. Sue about it.

Cloud grimaced.

"I don't like that any more than you do, but she chose this path a long time ago."

"And Aerith?"

Cloud shook his head.

"She's… insistent."

"So what am I, chopped liver?"

Cloud shook his head.

"This isn't your fight. You aren't involved like they are."

"And I don't have to be for you to tell me—"

"For fuck's sake, just let me keep you safe!" At close range, with his body pressed against yours, you could feel the vibration of his shouting as though it were your own. "Tifa and Aerith, they belong to this world, to this fight— but you belong to me!"

"I don't belong to anyone, hotshot—"

"Exactly!"

You blinked.

"I— I'm not sure I'm following."

A heavy, gloved hand rested on your cheek. You leaned into it, relishing in its warmth.

"Your soul is your own," Cloud said quietly. "You are the master, the possessor of your own self. You won't die for some cause, won't sacrifice yourself for the greater good. You'll survive. It's all you know how to do."

He tested his forehead against yours.

"I need that. I need you at Hell's Maw every Friday night, sitting in the same seat, drinking the same drink. I need you to talk to me like I'm nothing special, to show me your kindness and your sharpness."

He paused. You waited, teetering on the edge of anticipation, unable to know or even to guess what he would say next.

"And now— now that we've gone this far…" His hand drifted from your cheek to your neck, resting just above the curve of your breast. "I'm afraid of needing that too. I don't want you pulled into my world, and I don't want to need you so badly that—"

I don't want to need you so badly that I'm trapped.

You understood. It was possible that you understood better than anyone else ever could have.

"I get it."

He pulled away, but you didn't allow it. You caught him by the arm, bade him stay with gentle insistence. He allowed it, and you pulled him back to rest beside you, nose-to-nose.

"I know you, Cloud Strife," you said, summoning the words that had lodged themselves in your chest for so long. "You're like a wild animal. I cannot seek to own you… but if you come and eat from my hand, let me dress your wounds, and rest your head on my lap in times of trouble, I will count myself lucky to have someone so dear to me."

Hot pinpricks burned your eyes. How long have you waited to say something so true, so real? Why did it feel like a confession?

Cloud didn't seem to notice your distress— or, perhaps it was because he noticed your distress that he leaned forward, slowly, gently, and kissed you chastely on the mouth. You could taste the liquor on his lips; hungering for more, you deepened it, but Cloud kept a steady rhythm, holding you tenderly.

"Thank you," he said, pulling away.

"For what?" you laughed.

"For being here, for taking care of me. For not letting me wander home by myself, drunk and stupid."

"Of course." A smile stretched your face. "Any time."

The two of you stayed there for a long time, sharing breath, exchanging tender touches. Tomorrow, things might change— another reactor might blow, the plate might drop, or Cloud might use up the last of his nine lives— but tonight, nothing existed outside of your too-small couch. Tonight, he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

#cloud strife #cloud strife x reader #cloud x reader #cloud strife smut #FFVII #ffvii fanfiction #smut #fem!reader #assassin!reader

831 notes · View notes

obitos-whore · 2 months

Text

Obito with a pregnant s/o and seeing his child for the first time

────────────────────────────────────

TW: Very light mention of NSFW and throwing up

When you tell him of your pregnancy, he turns white as a sheet and stares at you like a deer in headlights

He needs to sit down for a moment and sort his thoughts. He always thought he was infertile after having half of his body replaced by Hashirama cells. Plus you two never did the deed without protection

You sit with him and rub his back soothingly while he mutters nonsensical stuff to himself

After the initial shock has worn down a bit, he stares at your flat stomach and tries to imagine a teeny tiny person growing inside there. A small human he helped create

With your permission, he uses his sharingan to get a better look at the tiny tiny being inside you and is immediately awestruck when he sees that the little surprise is merely the size of a blueberry

Obito is the kind of man who will display symptoms of sympathetic pregnancy and will probably throw up even more than you do, because he's sensitive like that. He cries a lot more too

Most of the time he doesn't really know what he's doing, but he tries his best to be somehow useful despite his own nausea and clumsiness

Will bend over backwards for you and do whatever he can to tend to your needs. You're craving a bowl of ramen or dango in the middle of the night? Bet you he will get up and almost burn down the kitchen make it for you

Never judges your food cravings and supplies you with everything you want without asking questions. The snack cabinets are filled to the brim so you can eat to your heart's content

Will stare at your growing belly with awe and admire your breathtaking beauty that seems to grow with every passing day

Gets very clingy and snuggly and can't keep his hands or lips off your bump and makes it his life's mission to talk to the baby every chance he gets

Will take time off so he can be with you, especially in the last few weeks of the pregnancy

Should you ever feel miserable, either mentally or physically, Obito will be right there to lift your spirits and make you comfortable. He will shower you with compliments, soothe your aching back and massage your feet. He'd even help you shave hard to reach places without hesitation

Seeing you so stuffed with his baby does something to him and so it's not surprising that he gets horny quite a lot, though he's hesitant to voice his needs because he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you or the baby

However, when you two get intimate, he'll be slow and very gentle. He's already more of a gentle lover, but now that you are pregnant, he reaches a completely new level of tenderness and pays extra attention to your other sweet spots to ensure you receive the ultimate pleasure

When he gets to see and hold his child for the first time, Obito bawls his eyes out and hugs you tightly, thanking you over and over again for giving birth to his baby while also apologising for all the struggles and pain you had to endure

#obito uchiha #uchiha obito #obito x reader #obito imagines #obito headcanons #obito x you #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto x you #naruto x reader #naruto shippuuden #naruto shippuden #uchiha x reader #uchiha x you #my writing

120 notes · View notes

onyourhyuck · 11 months

Text

Rent A Boyfriend. | K.DY

— Prologue: “It used to be “I miss her” for the longest time, but now she misses me.”

— Summary: You want to make your ex boyfriend jealous so you end up renting your ex boyfriend Kim Doyoung to be your new boyfriend.

— Genre: Kim Doyoung is a petty petty man. Kim “acts of service” Doyoung. Bro doyoung is the greenest flag ever. Doyoung’s the prettiest man alive, he knows it. Exes coming to realise they love each other again. Y/n and Doyoung have a complex relationship, they’re not your typical exes.

— Notes: I usually hate exes and second chances but this isn’t your typical toxic ex thing. It’s more of a “finding each other” again trope.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You hate to be thrown out. You really do, your current boyfriend, well who was your current boyfriend broke up with you.

You’re simply not over him, you don’t understand why he broke up with you either, it’s not like he explained himself he just stated over a phone call “Let’s break up” and expected you to smoothly go with it. But no you tried your best to get an answer out of his mouth but all you got was a ring tone hanging up on you.

You thought things were going well in your relationship with Yohan but that all came crashing down on you. You’re determined to get him back however you don’t believe he can just break up with you — I mean things were going so well for you both.

Without thinking you ring up another caller. The caller ID that you told yourself you wouldn’t ever call again but you don’t look like you have a choice with what plan you’re going to make and do to get your ex boyfriend Yohan’s attention; what better way to grab his eye sight when going back to your another ex…

Kim Doyoung and you dated for a while, probably the longest time you both ever kept a relationship. Problem between you was that Doyoung was too perfect; quite literally. He was the perfect ideal man that you couldn’t keep up with him. You felt strain in that relationship and therefore you left him. It took a while for the man to accept this but few months go back and those months turn into a year, he seems to be doing better now.

You and Doyoung kept contact all these time despite no longer being together too. If anything he’s the one who knows all your gossip and problems in life and gives you advice.

What you don’t know is Doyoung always waits for you. He always wants to believe you’ll come back to him once again.

“Hello Kim Doyoung speaking?”

The deep voice caught you off guard. It’s been a while since you heard his morning voice and your ears found a strange comforting nostalgia of it.

You trail. “Doyoung Hey I need your help.” You we’re sounding half sniffing mess and half trying not to sob breaking down. It would be embarrassing to know that you’ve got broken up with now.

Heck, you expect Doyoung to say ‘That’s karma for you bitch.’ But instead you heard something more shocking.

“Why are you crying, hey what happened?”

‘Why are you so kind and asking me.’ You thought in disbelief but you bury your thoughts away for a large minute as you clear your throat on the call keeping it close to your ears. “I’m fine I just need your help Doyoung.” You we’re desperate.

Desperate for something to feel again. You want to make Yohan come crawling back and beg you to take him and what not.

You won’t stop till you get that.

Doyoung didn’t quite understand what you need him for but he would never abandon you when you’re crying this hard, he doesn’t like seeing you upset. If anything he always hated it. Doyoung wasn’t sure why you’re crying either, because usually you’re pretty good with your emotions.

You don’t cry unless you’re very very sad. Doyoung never misses when he could tell your emotions by the sound of your voice.

And right now you sound broken and beaten down. “Okay tell me then. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” And you wanted to hear this so badly. You shift on your bed sheets rubbing your eyes with a sigh.

“Yohan broke up with me.” Doyoung heard you say as his eyebrows rose up in surprise. He thought you might of found the one in that man that you had. Not because he was perfect for you, but because you tolerated his ass for more than a month.

You ended up dating that asshole for about six months.

He tried to sound sad for you, but you could definitely tell a bit of happiness in them. But he most certainly wasn’t happy you’re crying your eyes off for a man who hurt you.

Just when he thought you were here to complain and vent about what happened between your relationship with Yohan he felt like a fever dream has kicked in.

“And I really need your help in getting him back.”

‘My help?’ Doyoung exclaims. How can he possibly help you get back with a man that is an asshole? And he couldn’t for once understand what’s going inside your head, you shock him more you speak.

“Yes your help Doyoung, become my rent a boyfriend.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You see you weren’t expecting your ex especially to agree to become your rented boyfriend until you make your recent another ex come back to you. It’s a very strange situation thing, most people wouldn’t even let you speak if you were their ex.

But then again you and Doyoung are a strange couple.

Many people saw you and Doyoung as the ideal relationship when you went to university together last year. They claimed you to be long lasting and honestly it would’ve been if you stayed. But you found it to be straining and you wanted to experience more things.

Doyoung wanted commitment and you couldn’t give him that when you’re young wanting to date more people.

But he never once judged you. He understands you want to live a little more. Unlike Doyoung who’s slightly older but not that much. He’s a 96’ liner meanwhile you’re a 98’ liner.

You both decided to meet up and make yourself coming out with Doyoung which would shock anyone. You both were invited to a class reunion from your university campus and it was today so what perfect timing right?

Yohan was in your class together which makes it perfect at the same time because he did say he would come before he broke up with you.

You’re now at the party area wearing your black slim dress hugging your perfect curves as in your one free hand was a champagne drink and the other held a purse. Your hair was in a beat up bun but your side bangs were neatly curled on the side resting above your eyebrows.

You were a star of the attraction definitely, because when Doyoung arrived he was in a formal gathering suit and tie. It was a formal attire so everyone was told to dress up. But you certainly took it to another level. He couldn’t get his eyes off you and neither did anyone else you were attracting everything without a pause.

A hand slid like a grenade around your hips pulling you towards the silhouette and your eyes rose up against a familiar face you haven’t been close like this for a while.

It felt familiar yet it leaves unfamiliar feelings to pop up inside your stomach once more.

“Oh Doyoung.” You retort.

Doyoung stares at you. “We were meant to go in together Y’know— you told me to make it look real.” He was assuming you’d want to walk in together but you forgetting your own plan you walked in without him.

You look away. He was right you have to make it look real to make people believe you. He plops his hands in front of you and your eyes watch it knowing exactly what he wanted.

He wanted you to hold hands.

Your fingers reach his own skin folding your hands together and you both walk together to the round table where the rest of your classmates from last year semester were. Everyone graduated now and they’re probably working their lives away.

Who knows but you were interested in what people got up to ever since graduation.

“You look beautiful by the way.” Doyoung said gently whispering and you look back at him smiling. “You don’t look so bad yourself Kim Doyoung.”

He smirks. “I never look bad and you know it.”

It’s the honest truth Doyoung has amazing fashion dress sense and it always left you drooling. You might be trying not to drool at him now but your mind was set on someone else.

The minute your eyes met Yohan’s he was speaking to another girl that was in your class last year. Kim Jisoo. Your eyebrows furrow squeezing Doyoung’s hand unintentionally you felt jealousy rise in the pit of your stomach and he looks at you.

His side eyes was tugging on your hand back and he clears his head before tugging again. “Y/n you might blow a bullet in them if you keep staring at them like that.” You weren’t aware you were staring them down so harshly until he pulls you back to reality and you murmur. “He brought Jisoo as his plus one.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes at your sadden tone to your face and voice he really doesn’t understand what you saw in Yohan. What he saw was a bunch of negative things and he even tried to be unbiased he still saw nothing but rotten apples in him.

He was everything Doyoung wasn’t. The bad version of him if anything.

Sometimes Doyoung wonders if you got with a bad guy because you were grieving how good your relationship with him was but why would you put yourself through such an asshole? Only God knows an answer to that he’s afraid.

“Look he’s already staring at you because you’re holding my hand so just — do the things you did when we were together.”

When we were together. You couldn’t help but nod following the idea of Doyoung and you acting like when you were actually together.

It wasn’t a bad shoutout but you couldn’t help but feel instantly shy when Doyoung pulled you towards the crowd and now everyone was watching you and him walking in with your hands holdings

The first one to shout out your names was Kim Jungwoo: a close friend of yours as well as Doyoungs. He was also your age so you found it quite easy to bond with someone like Jungwoo when you were put in that class in the semester.

“Doyoung! Y/n! Whoa I didn’t expect you guys to come together.” Jungwoo was left shaking in the boots wondering what’s been happening with you two.

When you broke up with Doyoung everyone found out but nonetheless it was easier to believe you’re back together because of how perfect you were made for one another.

Jungwoo wiggles his eyebrows. “So what’s this huh? Back together already?”

Doyoung glares pushing Jungwoo aside. “Stop being so nosey Jungwoo, what about your plus one?” He started and Jungwoo whistles.

“Judging by your reaction I think I’m right.” He smirks knowing his friend was irritated because it’s true. “Oh my plus one? I brought Giselle.”

You eye Jungwoo momentarily before grinning. “Giselle? Isn’t she like a freshmen at our university?”

He nods. “She’s dating my step brother Shotaro and she really wanted to come with me.” He sighs. “If I didn’t she would’ve made Shotaro ask me to take her.”

You laugh a little. It was a cute scenario to imagine on the other hand Giselle was freaking beautiful you couldn’t help but jerk your face and wow everytime you saw her outfit.

Doyoung could see your eyes sparkle and widen everytime you saw a pretty women around and he found it honestly, a really good reaction. He loved seeing you hype other people around you.

You never once were jealous of someone and he found that a good quality considering you never lacked trust in Doyoung. He never gave you a reason to lack trust too.

“Whoa is that Doyoung and Y/n together?” Someone on the side blurts out and your gaze saw a hundred faces watching you.

You link your arms further with Doyoung smiling. “Heya long time no see huh?”

Taeyong laughs out coming towards Doyoung’s side. “It really was. So what’s this occasion huh? You guys came together and have your hands holding.”

“We’re together.” You smile through saying.

As you could tell everyone was curious of your status with Doyoung now. Johnny on the other hand brings a toast on the table catching everyone’s attention on to him to raise their glasses up too.

You raise your champagne glass and Doyoung grabs a whiskey in a glass up to your arm length.

“To the ideal couple getting back together, Kim Doyoung and Y/n. I always knew you guys would find each other once again.”

Everyone toasts drinking from their glasses but what you saw was only Yohan’s eyes burning through you and Doyoung especially;

You can finally tell that this was getting to him. And it’s only the start of the long young night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The people sat down at the table dining together. Jungwoo and Giselle were sat together bickering at what they should get to eat because he certainly wasn’t buying multiple different dishes at once. Meanwhile Doyoung and Taeyong were at it again: the real Tom and Jerry.

You couldn’t help but find yourself speaking with Johnny on the side smiling ear to ear only pissed more Yohan off despite him coming with Jisoo.

Johnny exclaims. “So what how did you guys get back together?”

You chuckle. “We just sat down and talked our feelings out. Y’know how it goes.”

The older man whoas. “As expected from the campus ideal couple. You don’t need any fancy confessions. You only needed a long talk.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Taeyong I didn’t come here to argue about this once again. I will not be modelling with you.”

The older man stood up suddenly doing a pose (the cursed doyoung pose) making Johnny and you burst out laughing from the sudden realisation a travel back down the memory lane.

When Taeyong and Doyoung did modelling together he asked the boy to come with him on the side and when he did the first pose was this. A very unique looking pose that’s been haunting him forever and to this day still does.

He learned to expect him through nervous and embarrassing tears and laughter.

But Taeyong always has to get him back and as long as you found it hilarious he didn’t mean it.

“You know this is going down history babe.” You seethe with a smile and Doyoung turns to you going slightly red.

Whenever you’re both natural like this you always call him Babe or Love maybe even Darling. But you weren’t think at the time which caught you and him surprisingly off.

But Doyoung smiles holding your hand underneath the table caressing it with his thumb. You found it somehow very comforting to know he was okay with it even though it was a natural slip up.

It truly felt like you were back together for a hot minute.

“It’s nice to see the old couple come back. I knew you guys wouldn’t break up so easily.” Jungwoo said with a proud smile.

If only it were true, Doyoung would think. He would love to have you back in his life.

Maybe he agreed too easily for this knowing damn well he wants to be with you again so all it took for him to agree was to fake date you until your recent ex you’re so mad that dumped you shows the lightest of attention to you.

“Doyoung’s an amazing guy. It would be a shame to lose him because he’s always been there for me. He never once took it against me. He was just there whenever I needed someone to help me.”

The most sincere he’s ever seen you speak about him, it would make him think that you’re cherishing him so much behind close doors and sometimes you cry wondering what would you be without Doyoung? But other times you’re just blessed to have him and grateful for his existence.

He never once left you alone and he knew you wouldn’t want to be left alone either. Doyoung was just as much good for you than anything.

He leans closer stroking your hair away from your face smiling down at you. He whispers into your ears when the other people were busy eating and chatting away since the food came.

“I think that’s the most genuine thing you’ve said to me.” He would quietly say to you and you smile resting your head against his forehead for a moment closing your eyes.

This was always your thing. You resting your head on his own whenever you spoke about something real and raw from your own thoughts.

Doyoung missed you being this way with him, just honestly truthful and speaking with him. He always remembers your smile and it never once erased from his head. It was engraved in to his thoughts.

“I’m going to use the toilet alright?” You whisper standing up and leaving the table. Doyoung nods letting you go as he would focus on drinking and now eating.

Taeyong was going to bother him any minute he knew it would be the second you left.

As you’ve left you come out of the toilet when you’re done using it drying the hands into the pieces of paper to get rid of the water after washing your hands. You walk to the bin in the hallway and then you meet a figure standing there waiting for you.

You turn around raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

Yohan stares you down. “We need to talk.”

‘Oh yeah we definitely do.’ You thought clenching your jaw.

“You and Doyoung are back together so quickly?” He trails crossing his arms together wondering where and why you got so quickly back to another ex that he’s always been questioning if anything was happening behind you and him when you were together.

But he never once believed you and always wanted to sabotage your relationship with Doyoung and you.

Even if he found no evidence. You weren’t cheating on him ever.

Doyoung was the reason you managed to stay with him anyways. He gave you such good advice whenever Yohan made an argument or a problem.

You reply back bluntly. “You have a problem with that?” Yohan stares at you as if it wasn’t an obvious problem.

“Yes Y/n what the fuck? How can you get back with him right after we broke up.”

You roll your eyes. “No we didn’t break up, YOU broke up with me. Furthermore you didn’t give me a reasoning so if you won’t give me a reason I’ll just make one up.”

He stands there going quiet. You can’t believe his utter silence now as you shot back at him and you walk away to return back to the table but he grabs your wrist pulling you back and stopping you from leaving him.

“I’m sorry I broke up with you. I just found you boring but I don’t know what I was thinking.” He said making you watch him. “Let’s get back together.”

Your eyebrows scrunch up. “You broke up with me because I was… boring?” You repeated in confusion. What kind of breakup excuse is that?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You reclaim pushing him off your wrist taking it back to your chest. “Nahuh, Nahuh. I don’t need you anymore.”

Sure your plan worked but now you are realising how stupid this whole plan was and the fact he found you boring enough to throw you out? You weren’t sure how that makes sense but now you’re realising the true colours of your ex.

He wasn’t the one. He definitely wasn’t the one.

Yohan shouts your name as you left but you didn’t turn back this time you were the one doing the walking away and when you returned to the table Doyoung was the first one to ask you what was wrong when he saw your indifferent expression.

Doyoung whispers. “Y/n what’s wrong?”

You shake your head grabbing your dress edge on the thighs tightly. “Nothing i’m an idiot that’s all.”

He puts down his fork and knife grabbing your hands and standing up suddenly causing the table to look where you both are going.

“Y/n isn’t feeling well so we are leaving. It was nice to catch up and all but I’m sure you understand right?”

Doyoung always knew how to get away when it comes to you. You were his first priority and still are even if this was just a whole fake situation he would never put you through a place and time where you can’t handle being.

Taeyong nods seeing everyone come to a mutual understanding. “Yeah of course take her away. It was nice seeing you and Y/n!”

Johnny smiles. “Let’s meet up for drinks later on alright?”

You nod at Johnny smiling a little but even so you couldn’t help and not firm a genuine smile because all you could say was that you’re feeling like absolute shit and insecure now, Yohan really made you feel like you were a recycled bottle easy to throw away and disused of instantly.

‘Am I really that easy to replace?’

You were tucked into the car passenger seat putting on the seatbelt as Doyoung sits in the driver seat starting the car engine letting it roar a while before fully driving off.

You look out the window trailing softly, letting your mind overtake your consciousness.

“He was bored.” You state out like a lifeless child.

At first the man driving the car couldn’t understand what you meant by ‘he was bored’ because it wasn’t a freaking excuse to break up. Doyoung driving clenches the stirring wheel as he drove but kept the eyes on the road.

He firmly tells you in a deep voice enough to think he was going to lose his shit when you told him the reasoning. “Y/n move on from that piece of shit already. He didn’t even give you one bit if happiness.”

He was right but somehow his words stuck to you more than they should’ve.

“I know. I’m aware of the stuff he put me through but seriously.” You pause feeling your eyes begin to sting out as you felt water in them rise like sea levels. “He really said it like I’m something that can get replaced.”

He scoffs. “Well you’re not okay? Y/n you are the hardest thing to replace and forget.” He slings out one of his hands onto your thighs squeezing them but this time you felt your face look at him with a slight blush on your cheeks.

“Look at me for an example.” He slowly says feeling himself loose a bit of his logical mind screaming at him not to confess but he couldn’t help but shoot the opportunity to let you know the truth of how much he’s still in love with you. “I’m still here missing you when we were together. I still have a lingering hope in me even if you want us to be friends, I’m happy with any status as long as I’m there in your life. But I can’t replace you no matter what people I date.”

“So that asshole yeah? He won’t be replacing you anytime soon trust me.” Doyoung said nodding at the road as he kept them on driving with one hand on the wheel while the other was squeezing your thighs comfortingly.

You found comfort in his honesty the most and you smile finding yourself having butterflies in your stomach.

This feeling… this feeling you’ve felt before.

“Please don’t waste your tears on a scum like that.” Doyoung would slowly tell you as he could see a little of your eyes watering before he refocused his eyes on the road once again.

You muffle. “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” Doyoung asked you and you reply back “I promise you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat down curled up on the bed as Doyoung walks in bringing you a glass of water on your nightstand. He sat on the edge of your bed looking around the room.

“This room hasn’t changed at all.” He beams somehow finding this good because this room held many memories with you together with him.

You roll on your bed sighing. “I can’t bring myself to change it. It has too many…”

“Memories?” He finished your sentence and you give him a nod exactly what it was. “Memories with you.”

You’re laying there in the comforting silence as you remember laughing a little pointing at the wall that has a painted bunny on it drawn. When you got this place for the first time it was your first owned property and you wanted to decorate this room and for a while Doyoung helped you.

But you came to the terms that you wanted an animal drawn and Doyoung suggested a bunny because your contact name back then was the bunny emoji on your phone — actually it’s still the same contact name. You’ve never changed his name in your contacts.

“I still have the bunny you wanted on the wall. Remember how we drew it together?”

Doyoung turns around the minute he saw it he softly smiled finding it alarming how he was remembering so many moments in the space of a minute. When you painted this with him you and Doyoung came out with dirty clothes because you both decided to be mischievous and get the one covered in full paint.

It was a white bunny with a pink nose and folded bunny ears up. It was a beautiful drawing honestly, you can draw. Doyoung made sure to colour it for you but you’ve done the sketching mostly.

He helped you decorate this house entirely. He helped you move into this house entirely. Heck he even second lived here with you because whenever he would stay over he left a bunch of homebody clothes to wear if he ever does.

And you think it’s still in that singular drawer still. You haven’t taken it out and you sometimes wear the shirts and sweatpants.

You found it comforting because it’s oversized on you. It’s very comfortable and nice to sleep in it. Plus when you broke up you found comfort in them because it sort of made you feel like he was still there.

“You know, I like that you didn’t change this room.” He said honestly looking back at you.

You smile. “Me too. It’s iconic at this point. Oh and…” you pause seeing him still wear the formal clothing attire and you point at his clothing.

He looks down as you motion. “I have your clothes still here you want them? You can stay over if you want honestly.”

Doyoung’s face forms a smile as you get off your bed walking to the drawer and getting out a pair of shirt and pants for him throwing it where Doyoung catches it in the air he stands up humming.

“Didn’t think you’d have kept my clothes still.”

You shrug a little smirking. “They’re comfortable. I sometimes wear them still.”

‘You can’t move on either it seems.’ Doyoung thought before walking to the bathroom to get changed and meanwhile you would go into the cupboard getting out a sudden memory boom that fell on the floor. You raise your eyebrows as you lift it up.

It was a memory book from the university and some pictures were when you were a baby. You sit back on the bed flipping through them.

You were a cute child you had to admit looking back you were a fashionista to the highest grounds. Doyoung comes back from the bathroom walking inside your bedroom again and he folds his clothes neatly somewhere.

He eyes down the memory boom. “Is that the memory book we made together?” He beams sitting back down and you smile.

“I forgot I had this.” You flip the page to when you and Doyoung started your relationship. It was a picture of you and him at a beach.

Then a picture of you and him on your first Christmas Day. Another one would be on holiday in Italy. You spent so many days with him doing absolute anything to enjoy together.

He softly brushed on the picture of you and him on the Christmas Day sitting on the couch, him kissing your cheek in the picture. His eyes softens and you felt him becoming slightly nostalgic and emotional. It was a rare sight to see him become soft when going back down the memory lane with you.

You bite your bottom cheek as your fingers brush over his hands caressing the picture in the memory book.

He looks at you as you made contact with him. “You know…I’m still being rented by you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sudden change in his voice becoming slightly playful at the same time he was being cautious because he wouldn’t know how you’re going to react but to his surprise you softly laugh leaning closer giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“I don’t want this to become a single thing.” You admit leaning closer. “I’ve come to a realisation that I only needed you…”

Doyoung’s eyes risen up from the dead. They lit up so much brighter than they were before when he was normally watching you. “Really?…”

You give him a reassuring nod. “So… how about we make this rent a boyfriend a real thing once again. But this time I’ll be serious about you.”

“God I waited so long to hear this from you.” Doyoung gasps going in for a long passionate kiss with you and you entitled yourself to return it missing the longing lips on yours so bad.

You weren’t even sure of it because you were deprived of him, of Doyoung.

“It used to be “I miss her” for the longest time, but now she misses me.” Doyoung thought all along it was you at the end who was coming to terms of how much you need him back in your life.

And that maybe it’s real. That the world was putting you back together and you always found each other to be each other’s safe zones.

You found each other finally.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and translating my work thank youu!! Please reblog the fic and follow me for more fics updates <3 it helps a girl out.

716 notes · View notes

sports-on-sundays · 21 days

Note

hello! i have a request for marc guiu where marc and reader have been best friends for a long time now and marc gets together with some girl but reader realises that the girl is just in it for the money and the clout and tries telling marc that but he thinks that she's jealous so he kind of distances her and their friendship is at strain (angst). in the end all is resolved and maybe marc and reader realise their feelings for each other? its completely fine if you dont wanna do it. thank you so much!!!

not right for you / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x best friend!female!reader

Warnings: heights, crying, censored cursing, being used in a relationship (not reader)

Requested?: Yes, thank you.

You stare at the girl in judgment, taking her in. This girlfriend of Marc's, that he's been talking about a lot, excessively, for a few weeks now, finally stands before you. She has long, soft brown hair, falling down her back, perfectly done makeup, a chiseled face, long legs, a skinny frame, and, well, she's gorgeous.

Just being in her presence makes you feel insecure.

Marc has his hand practically glued to the small of her back as she shows you her million dollar perfect smile.

"I've heard lots about you," you say slowly. You really did mean it to sound friendly, but do have to admit that you sound more like a cowboy from a Western movie trying to pick a fight in some shady saloon.

Marc smiles and says, "I never stop talking about you, Olivia."

She giggles at this, and holds her hand out to shake yours. You nod and shake it, still not so sure about this girl.

You try to remind yourself to give her a chance and not just go by your initial gut feeling- but it's hard. It's hard not to read this book by her cover.

Simply because it seems she's putting a lot of effort into her cover- too much effort. Too much effort for it to not reflect her inner personality.

But! You mustn't make such judgments until you really know her, you remind yourself. Despite how hard it is not to.

Well, you thought maybe you would get all buddy-buddy with her to try and see if you can figure her out, but luckily, it looks like that won't be necessary. She's not the type of girl you think you would get alone with much, anyway.

Because Marc won't, shut, up, about, her.

"She's so sweet," he's going on now, "And, like, honestly, adorable." To you, she didn't look very adorable, and rather just super conventionally attractive. But not interesting or unique in anyway. Of course, you don't say this, as he continues with a boyish giggle, "The other day, she wanted to buy this watch and these earrings. So f*cking adorable the way she looked at me with her big puppy dog eyes. I couldn't resist her."

You nod slowly, taking this all in, and say sarcastically, "Sounds just adorable."

Marc doesn't seem to pick up on it. "And then, get this-" he says as he blushes more.

"Hmmm...?" you ask, unimpressed.

And then he goes on about how sweet she was to him. Showering him with compliments and saying he's the best boyfriend ever and blah, blah, blah.

This isn't the only time you've heard things about this girl. Always hungry for the camera type, won't take no for an answer type, pulls being stubborn off as being cute type, whines to her boyfriend until he says 'yes' type. Type you don't like, and the type you reckon isn't the best for Marc, either.

He talks about how happy he is to be able to make her happy and comfortable, since he's playing professional football now, but you've figured out that this girl is clearly just getting money and attention from him for her own good, and probably doesn't really care about him as a person. Not to mention, dating Marc Guiu- though he's certainly not the most well known footballer- makes you famous on some level, for sure.

Finally Marc seems to snap, "Why don't you like Olivia, anyway?"

You frown, hesitating, before saying, "Do you really want me to answer honestly?"

"Of course I do!"

"Well, alright. I'm concerned for you, because to me, it seems clear this girl only wants you for the money, clout, and attention, and doesn't really care about you as a person. I care about you as a person, so therefore, I want you to see you in a relationship with someone who does, too. I mean, you give her things all the time- what has she ever done for you?"

Marc doesn't seem very happy with this proclamation from you, understandably enough. "I don't know! Kisses me."

You snort ruefully at the dumb answer. "Ah, yes. Of course she does. She's got to keep you interested somehow, otherwise she'll lose all the money coming into her bank account. So she knows all she's got to do is keep you romantically, and possibly even sexually, pleased, and she won't stop getting what she wants. And it's easy for her to use you, because you're falling for her gorgeous looks and letting her. She's using you, clearly. I mean, it's clear to me."

"No, she's not," Marc snaps in annoyance, suddenly standing up. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"I don't know! Of her being pretty? Of her being my girlfriend?" He scoffs and walks to the door. "I'm leaving now."

You watch as the door shuts behind him.

So that means Marc doesn't think I'm pretty?

Of course he doesn't, Y/n. He has a girlfriend who's drop-dead beautiful.

And why would he think you'd be jealous of her being his girlfriend?

You don't want to be his girlfriend- at least you don't think so.

It makes you mad to think he would immediately assume your words came from a place of selfishness. They didn't. They're from a place of concern, for your best friend.

For your best friend, who now is avoiding you like the plague.

You haven't seen Marc in two months. You haven't heard him, either. You've only exchanged a few dry text conversations that really did nothing.

You stand up on the rooftop of your apartment building, staring out and down at the sparkling cities lights. Up here, fog has set in, and you feel a chill go through your body. You tighten your jacket around yourself, breathing in the scent of it.

You feel guilty for wearing this coat, though you don't know why.

It's actually Marc's. About a year ago, he left it at your house, and it became yours. When he saw you wearing it, his eyes had lightened up, so though he didn't say anything about it, you know he knew it was his.

And you know it's kind of gross, but you never washed it. You don't wear it often, and frankly, you love the smell of it. It reminds you of him.

And right now, you need to be reminded of him, since you haven't seen him in way too long.

You walk to the ledge and climb up on the barrier, sitting on the flat top of it, letting your legs dangle over.

You feel a little rush travel through your veins at this risky position, before your body calms itself again, and the melancholy feeling returns.

"No one can hear me up here," you say into the air.

"I could say whatever I want, and it wouldn't matter. It could all just get caught in this thick fog and float away. I could forget about it, and pretend it never happened, because no one else is here to hear it."

You let out a shaky breath.

"Marc, I could tell you everything. I could say whatever I want up here, and you wouldn't even know it. It wouldn't matter."

For some reason, at this, your voice cracks a little.

You say softer, "It wouldn't matter, would it?"

You breathe deeply gasping a bit down at the Barcelona street dozens of feet below you.

"Even if I screamed, no one would hear me!" you say, your voice raising.

And you do scream: "Marc! I'll bet my life I care about you more than she does! My life!"

You stare apologetically down.

I guess I'm in he perfect spot to lose that bet.

You feel hot tears threaten at your eyes as you continue, softer, "I want you to be happy.

"You're not happy with her.

"I bet you could be happy with me, Marc."

You sniff, not even sure what you're saying. You've never said things like this before.

But now, alone, knowing nothing you say really matters? It's easier to say things you never really knew you even thought.

"She's not good for you," you practically whine, rubbing at your eyes, getting warm salty liquid all down the back of your hand.

"You're my best friend," you whimper. "And now you're leaving me alone for some faker you just met a few months ago!

"I've known you for years!"

You scream, choking up a little, "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Not even your echo answers you.

You watch as a tear fall off your cheek, and down.

And down and down.

And at some point, it hits the street below.

The thought is surreal, and makes you feel a bit dizzy, even. You clutch the side of the ledge tighter.

Your knuckles are white as you call into the night, your tone lined with tears, "What if I told you I loved you? Would you even care?"

Your head spins. "Would you?"

You shut your eyes and let out a sob, feeling the lights and cars move below you, feeling alone, and separated from the world. Isolated.

But most of all, just very, very confused.

You thought you would be happy to see Marc again. But when you open your door to see him standing there, looking like a wreck, you're not happy.

Not one bit.

"What happened?" you ask as you view the boy with his red, puffy eyes and messy hair.

"Can I come in?"

You sigh, opening the door for him, but comment rudely, "So you only show up at my house, after ignoring me, basically, for two months, because something happened, and you need help?"

"Please, Y/n. That's not the only reason," he sighs, sitting down on your couch with you. You cross your arms, staring at him.

"Then, what?"

"I'm sorry. I realize you were right, now. All along. I was stupid."

"So she broke up with you, huh?"

"I broke up with her."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "What finally knocked you out of your delusions?"

He shrugs. "Your words never stopped bugging me, in the back of my head. Then she started pushing me for more. More, more, more. More money, more attention, more... well, things I wasn't comfortable with so early in our relationship."

You nod slowly. "Right..."

"So, I realized you were right. She's-" his voice breaks. "She's so f*cking greedy."

You lick your lips, still nodding, staring down at the floor.

"But I feel like it was wrong. She begged me to stay... she said she thought I loved her... But I've got to love myself, too, and she was draining me dry. Taking my- my everything."

You nod, finally softening. You put your arm around his back as he stares ahead. A single tear falls slowly down his cheek, before he hastily wipes it away with another sigh. "You did the right thing, Marc. You should have listened from the beginning, but I'm happy you realized it."

"What if I broke her heart, though?"

"That's her fault for getting into a relationship just to use someone! And besides," you add bitterly, "those were probably just crocodile tears."

"You... you think?"

You snort. "I know, Marc."

He hesitates, before saying, turning to look you in your eyes, "I'm sorry... for distancing myself from my best friend like that. I thought you were jealous. I should have taken you for your word."

You swallow back a lump in your throat. You put your hand on his and murmur, "It's okay... I forgive you."

"You- You do?"

You blink in surprise. "Of course I do, Marc. That's what friends are for. Friends will always be there, even when you walk away."

And then your breath hitches when suddenly, he pulls you into a tight hug, half pulling you onto his lap. His hand gently rubs your lower back, which gives you butterflies, and you're extremely aware of every point in which your bodies are touching. "Thank you so much, Y/n," he breathes.

You bury your head in his shoulder, murmuring, "You're welcome. I'm just glad to have my Marc back."

"Your Marc?" he grins, leaning back to meet your eyes. His deep, light brown, gentle eyes. "I like the sound of that. You know, being called yours."

You blush at that. "Only if I can be called yours, too."

He grins and mutters, "You'll always be my best friend first, Y/n. I know I just ended a relationship... but..."

"Oh, God," you squeak, eyes widening. "Are you-"

"I mean, if you-"

"Yeah, I could-"

"Good," he grins, pulling you back into the tight hug. You can feel his heart beating quickly against your chest. He leans his head against your shoulder and gives your neck a little kiss.

"So, you-" you breathe, "you love me- me back?"

His mouth smiles against your neck. "Yeah. I think I've known you long enough to say I love you."

You grin and trace the words into his back.

I love you.

"I'm glad you came around, Marc."

"I'm glad I came around, too, Y/n."

92 notes · View notes

futureman · 8 days

Text

love like you

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike helps you through a rough patch by reminding you of the many, many reasons he loves you

warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, mentions of depression, anxiety & panic attacks, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.1k

"Why do you love me?"

You ask the question so quietly, Mike almost misses it over the movie playing in the background. At first, he's not sure how to respond—or at the very least, where to begin.

You've never asked him that before, and he'd never given it much thought if he's being totally honest. He assumed you hadn't, either. It's just something he feels.

It's something he's always felt, gradually building since the day you led his sister back to him after she'd wandered off in the supermarket. He took one look at you, your kind eyes and patient smile, and asked you on a date without a second thought. That's what it's like to love you—instinctual.

He glances away from the TV and looks down at you curiously. Your head is nestled on his lap, eyes already locked on his and filled with apprehension he can't even begin to understand. There are a thousand and one reasons to love you; don't you realize that? He'd tell you every one if you asked.

He loves you because you're always there, through the late-night shifts and nightmares, helping him parent a child you shouldn't have to be responsible for at such a young age. You confiscate his controller every time he tries to smash it in a fit of rage, beating whatever boss he'd been fighting for hours like a champ. He thinks you're so fucking cool.

And you understand him like no one else ever has, so attentive and always willing to try. You kiss away his fears, strip him bare, unmask him. Allow him to seek shelter inside you, ride him to a mind-numbing release when his darkest thoughts threaten to consume him.

You hold him when he wants to give up, when the weight of the world is too much and persevering is too hard. The familiar, soothing tone of your voice reminds him to breathe, to tune out the little things and remember that there's still good to be found in life.

It's everything you do and everything you are. That's why he loves you.

But before he can say anything at all, your face screws up and your bottom lip begins to tremble. His chest immediately tightens.

"Woah, hey. It's okay," he murmurs, keeping you grounded in the present despite his rising panic. "You're okay."

You're prone to spiraling, but after years together, he knows the best way to mitigate it is to stay calm. Regardless of the raging storm in your head, you're safe with him, warm and dry at home on your couch.

He caresses your cheek, then trails up to scrub at the crinkle in your forehead. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing. It's—really, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked you that," you shake your head, averting your gaze elsewhere. But after a moment, your eyes snap back to his, and there's so much pain there, he can almost feel it.

"No, it's...it's everything. My brain won't shut up, and it's mean and loud, and I just—," you pause, clenching your jaw in frustration. "I just don't get it. Of everyone you could've been with, why me? I can't understand why you chose me."

The question feels like a slap in the face. Like he had so many choices and only picked you based on some predetermined criteria of what someone should want in a partner. He didn't just pull your name out of a bowl, either. You chose each other.

He wracks his brain to figure out what he could've said or done to make you believe otherwise, but then remembers this isn't about him. He tries again to explain all of the reasons he wanted to before, to tell you that the unrelenting thoughts ping-ponging in your head are wrong, but you continue on, unraveling before his eyes.

"I'm a shitty person. I'm selfish and useless, and all I do is make everyone around me unhappy. There's always a crisis, I'm always sad. And I always make everything about me," you tell him, getting angrier by the second. "Ugly, worthless, selfish, selfish. I’m a fucking burden. You know, I—I just keep waiting for you to figure it out and leave. To get sick of this...of me."

He listens helplessly as you tear yourself apart, the ache in his chest intensifying the worse your verbal barrage becomes. He knows he can't just reassure away your insecurities or magically heal your trauma, no matter how badly he wants to. But he also can't let this go on any longer.

"Stop," he says softly, cutting you off. Hearing the full extent of your criticism is agonizing, and if it's hurting him this much, he hates to think what you must be feeling. "None of that is true. I think...I hope, deep down, you know that."

The broken look you give him tells him you don't, or maybe that you can't, at least not right now. You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head and hauls you up into his arms. He holds you close as you start to tremble, guiding you to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"There's nothing shitty about you, alright? You're the least selfish person I've ever met. Kinda wish you were so you'd stop prioritizing us over yourself all the time," he murmurs into your hair. "And you're fucking gorgeous. I don't want to hear you say any of that ever again."

He tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Got it?"

You shake your head, turning to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He sighs. He just can't fathom how you could possibly look at yourself and not see what he and Abby do. But then again, he might understand more than he'd like to admit.

Everything you've told him tonight feels jarringly familiar. The self-hatred, the unending criticism—he wallows in those thoughts all the time and knows better than anyone that they'll eat you alive if you bottle them up for too long.

He hates that you have to suffer through this just because brain chemistry is indiscriminately cruel. It's unfair. He, at the very least, deserves it.

Except, that's not actually true, is it? And if your roles were reversed, you'd remind him as many times as it takes for him to believe it. You'd tell him that he's perfect exactly the way he is. That he's a good parent, brother, and partner, and regardless of all of the shit life has thrown his way, he's still a good person that isn't defined by his lowest moments.

So, he'll do the same for you.

He shifts you on his lap so you're face-to-face, your legs bracketing his thighs, and cups your cheeks to keep your attention on him. He's not letting you hide anymore. He needs you to hear what he has to say and trust that he'd never lie to you.

"You're not worthless or useless or anything else your brain is telling you right now. Okay? You're perfect," he says quietly, stroking your cheek. "I've always thought you were perfect, from the moment I met you."

Doubt clouds your expression. "I don't believe you."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"B-because that's what you're supposed to say when you're trying to make someone feel better," you reply shakily.

Ouch. He hadn’t expected that answer. It stings that you'd think so little of him, especially after all this time. He feels like he’s grasping at straws now, but everything he wants to say is just a variation of how highly he sees you. It’s all equally true, but if you can’t accept that, then what else can he do?

"Then, tell me what you need to hear right now. Tell me how to help you through this, because I love you so fucking much, and I will do anything," he pleads, his frustration bleeding through despite how hard he tries to suppress it.

It’s starting to affect you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and he can tell you want to run away, but instead of letting you go, he wraps his arms around you as carefully as he can to keep you from leaving. He doesn't want to force you to face this. He just needs you to stop hurting yourself. Your face crumples, and he feels his own do the same.

"I don't know. Probably nothing," you tell him, voice cracking. "Look, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. Can we just go back to watching the movie? I’ll rewind it—“

But Mike doesn't want to let this go. Even if he should, even though you're asking—he's determined to make sure you go to bed tonight knowing how loved you are. His next words come out harsher than he wants them to, but he’s getting desperate. He’s only human.

"Fine. You want the truth? Being with you is hard. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, and sometimes, it hurts like hell," he starts. Your expression morphs from sad to devastated, and he feels terrible for upsetting you, but he has to say this for both of your sakes.

"But that's what makes it worth it. I've never felt this way about anyone, probably never will again. Not because it's easy; because it's you. Sure, no one's perfect, but you're about as close as it gets. You're it for me.”

He truly believes that. Maybe you do, too. The tension in your body is beginning to bleed away, and you slowly sag against him, tucking yourself into his chest. He catches a glimpse of your face as you melt into him, and for the first time tonight, you look hopeful. Nuzzling into your hair, he continues.

"I can't imagine a life without you anymore. It's like you're part of me now, maybe even the best parts, and I fill in the gaps in between. We just…figured it out at some point. Together.” He’s starting to ramble, but he’s too invested to stop. Judging by the fact that you haven’t interrupted him or tried to intervene, it doesn’t seem like you want him to, either.

“Even the small shit other couples fight about. Like the dishes—you hate doing those because digging the silverware out of the sink grosses you out, so I do it. And you fold the laundry because I always burn myself taking the clothes out of the dryer. We talk shit out. We try."

He squeezes you a little tighter. “Maybe those seem like shitty reasons to love someone, but they’re real. Just as real as what I told you before," he says softly, pausing to kiss the top of your head. "You're beautiful. You're kind and passionate, and I’m just the lucky guy that gets to be with you. I’ll be here as long as you want me.”

When he finally finishes, he’s all but gasping for air. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s breathing so heavily, he feels like he just ran a marathon. But it’s worth it to see the look on your face as you peer up at him, cautious but peaceful.

“How could I not want you?” you whisper, splaying your hand across his chest, just below his collarbone. You're feeling his heartbeat.

"I've been asking you that all damn night," he chuckles. Cradling your head in his palm, he swipes away a few stray tears that fall with the next flutter of your lashes. "So, did I answer your question or should I keep going? Because seriously, I can keep going—"

You snort, effectively cutting him off, then give him a wry smile. The relief he feels is palpable.

“You know, I really don’t deserve you," you murmur as you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw. When your lips linger, he ducks down to press his against yours, kissing you deeply and pouring in everything left unsaid.

"Sure, you do," he says kindly, but with finality. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you're both starting to look as tired as you feel. But more than that, he's grateful; to have you in his life and to be able to comfort you when you need it most. You taught him that. "And I think we both deserve some sleepytime tea and a really soft blanket...if Abby didn't already steal it off our bed."

Your face lights up, and it's as if he solved all of the world's problems with that one simple offering. It's the same look you give him when he tells you he loves you. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you say it back.

"I love you, too."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

a/n: this was a homework assignment from my therapist 💀 oops

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt #fnaf fanfic #fnaf imagine #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch

80 notes · View notes