#i’m home now so i can cry freely

[harryforvogue]

it’s been a really tough day today. i find myself crying so much and this really eases me. and i hope it helps other people too!

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“I think we should break up.” Simons words were like a ton of bricks, nearly taking the wind out of you. He stated it so plainly, without any hesitation that it had your entire world spinning.

“Wait, what?” You asked, struggling to blink away the hot tears that were threatening to fall. “Simon, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His eyes landed anywhere but you, a trick you knew he had in order to keep his composure. There was something more he wasn’t telling you.

“But why? What’s changed?” Your voice was quivering now, praying the man you loved so dearly would just look at you. “Simon, what’s going on?”

Simon said nothing, his eyes glued to the floor as he tried to steady his breathing. He couldn’t look at you. He knew if he did, he’d go back on his word.

“Simon Riley, you answer me right now.” Tears were flowing freely down your cheeks now as you were no longer able to keep your composure. “Simon!”

“I don’t deserve you alright?” Simon finally looked up at you, the harshness in his tone causing you to flinch. “For fuck sakes, I don’t. You are everything I’m not. You’re gentle, you’re kind. You care about everyone so selflessly, and you deserve someone who can be on that level with you.”

“Si.”

“No.” Simon cut you off before you could speak, his eyes flickering back to the floor. “I’m a broken shell of a man, Y/N. You deserve someone who can take you on dates. Someone who can bring you home to their family. Someone who you’re not waiting months on end for, wondering if they are even alive. You deserve anyone but me.”

You choked back a sob, the words of your lover causing your heart to shatter. Is this truly how he felt? Had you failed as a partner to make him feel that he is worthy of love?

“I got my family killed. My best friend died because I wasn’t there fast enough. Everywhere I go, death follows me.” Simon continued. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.

“Look at me.” You spoke, your voice stern as you blinked away some of the tears. “Simon, look at me.”

Simon’s gaze lifted, and the sight of him caused your tears to flow down your cheeks once more. He was crying. His cheeks were blotched red, something you’d never once seen on him in the years you’d been together.

You took a step forward, slowly moving your hand to cup his cheek, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away. “I don’t want, nor need anyone that’s not you.”

Simon blinked, clearing his throat to speak, but you cut him off. “You are the man that I want. You think you’re a broken shell of a man, but every single person on this planet is broken, in their own way. I want every part of you.

I want the late night phone calls when you’re on the other side of the world. I want the reunions when you come home, the feeling that I’ve finally got you back. I want the corny at home movie dates. I want the burnt dinners, the late night fast food runs. I want the man who so deeply cares about everyone but tries so hard to deny it. I want the man that would put his life on the line for anyone who he considers a friend. I want the dry humor, I want the witty remarks. Simon, I want you. Always.”

Simon’s tears now flowed freely down his cheeks, his lips quivering as he struggled with what to say. His arms wrapped around your torso, holding you tightly to him as a sob wracked his body. “I fucking love you, Y/N. I don’t deserve you but gods I’ll fucking try to.”

Little did he know, he never had to. You’ve loved him from the moment you met him.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hello!! could you write about spencer catching sunshine reader during a sad time? like perhaps reader has very rarely shown spencer what she gets like when shes sad, so when he catches her, she is stubborn at first and doesn't want to open up, but eventually eases into it? thank you :))

Cw: mentions of parents venting to their kids, being sad

Wc: 1.4k

You’re not sure what you'd done to deserve a day like today exactly, only that you’d woken up and from the very first moment you’d had a hard time of it.

Your planned outfit had a stain, you forgot to make extra dinner to have for lunch, you cut your ankle shaving and then your mom called.

Calls with her have a habit of being fifty fifty. It can either be a good call, or it can be a call where she uses you as a sounding board for all her negative thoughts, worries and despite the many times you’ve told her to stop, she hasn’t.

It’s safe to say by the time you walk into work you don’t even have the energy to smile- you’re using it all not to cry.

Not even your back up outfit is working it's magic- a green top with brown pants, your favourite outfit to feel like a hobbit.

Emily calls you into the round table room as soon as you walk in, giving you a little more reason to avoid Spencer’s curious gaze.

Spencer doesn’t really take into account just how bad your mood is till you volunteer to stay in Quantico with Penelope rather than go out in the field.

“Y/n?” He touches your elbow gently as the rest of the team go for their bags. It’s just you and him in the round table room and your hands shake from holding back tears.

Spencer hasn’t ever seen you this upset, sure during a case you’re mad at the things you guys read and uncover, but this is a different type of upset and Spencer doesn’t really know what to do with it.

He just knows he wants to make it better.

“Yeah Spence?” You try to keep your voice even, knowing he’ll only worry more and the case needs his worry more than you do.

“What’s going on? You haven’t looked up at me once and you keep scrunching your nose. You also haven’t smiled since you got here.” He’s a profiler to his core, but this is just you and him, of course he’d notice everything.

You shrug, scrunching your nose again. “The case isn’t exactly something to be happy about, is it?”

Spencer knows what you’re trying to do, but you don’t get the tone right for anger- you just sound defeated.

“Either way, you and Penelope have a knack for smiling through it and you haven’t even tried once.” Ever soft, ever tender are the words that escape him.

He bends his knees a little, chasing your eyes. “What is it?” Spencer’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, wanting nothing more than to help.

“Spencer, can we talk about it when the case is over?” You can feel the pressure of the tears behind your eyes and you don’t want to cry here.

Not where anyone can see.

You’d much rather do it at home, where you can curl up under your blanket and sob until you lose your voice.

“Alright, but we will talk; yeah?” You nod and Spencer squeezes your forearm, a firm and soothing pressure on your skin.

The case takes a day and a half to wrap up, and you’re barely holding it together- Penelope lent you her favourite unicorn desk pal for the entire case and also her fluffy pen.

“I’m sorry, babe. You’ll feel better once this is over and you can have a good cry.” She says, your head on her shoulder as you wait for your team to come back.

You nod, “How badly do you think Spencer will react if I start crying now?” Your throat is tight with emotion- honestly you’re not sure if it’s just from your previous day or also the exhaustion of working into the next evening.

“Oh, pretty bad,” she says and you chuckle, a few tears rolling freely down your face. “But I think he’ll be more worried.”

Before you can say anything, there’s a knock on Penelope’s door and you already know who it is- only Spencer knocks. You wipe away the tears hoping that will be enough to hide them from Spencer- it likely won’t be.

“See you tomorrow Pen,” you say, gathering your things and opening the door.

Spencer looks more tired than you expected and you have to assume you don’t look so rested either.

“You’re back,” he nods, taking your satchel bag from you and reaching for your hand.

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, leading you to a secluded spot in the hall. Spencer doesn’t say it, but your eyes bare all your emotions even if your face is neutral. They’re red and they’ve got a sad look about them, just completely and utterly exhausted. Spencer wants to help any way he can.

You debate how you should start, if you should just tell him about your bad day from beginning to end or if you should just tell him about your weird relationship with your mother and let him fill in the blanks from there.

You decide it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer because he never had you guessing when he’s sharing things so you won’t do it to him.

“Um,” you can already feel the pressure building behind your eyes again. “Yesterday was off to a terrible start, nothing was going quite right from the moment my feet hit the floor.”

Spencer nods, listening quietly as you wring your hands tightly. He takes them easily, holding them in his own and stroking the skin on the back of your hand.

“Then my mom called which could really go either way, and I had to listen to her complain about my dad and every other thing in her life and it gives me a lot of anxiety hearing some of the things and she just wouldn’t stop.”

Your tears are rolling freely now and Spencer pulls you to his chest, fear of germs be damned.

He quiets his own feelings about you crying and about the way you sound recounting your day.

“She just says these things like I’m supposed to be the one to fix them and I can’t and she’s mad that I can’t and it just messes with me sometimes.”

Spencer can deduce what you’re too kind to say- it isn’t your fault or your problem and you shouldn’t be made to feel like it’s your responsibility to make it right.

Your hands shake against Spencer’s back and he sighs, squeezing you just a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry,” his hands coast up and down your back, massaging at the nape of your neck when he reaches there. “I’m sorry she puts it on you, and I know that you’re aware it isn’t your problem to solve but you can’t help that either. Maybe over time she’ll come to realise that you can’t solve all of the things she tells you.”

You nod, trying to stop hiccuping against him. “M’sorry about your shirt Spence.” He laughs, nose in your hair as he holds you.

“It’s okay,” you sniffle harshly trying to clear your sinus. “Want to come over and watch Lord of The Rings?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been there- you’ve spent nights there after drinks with the team and movie nights just the two of you.

All the same it’s a shocking proposal from Spencer right after a case, you know he likes to decompress in his own way.

You gasp, leaning back from his arms a little. It’s hard to miss the care displayed so clearly in his gaze. It’s harder to fight the urge to kiss him. “The extended versions?” Spencer notes that you’ve a little more spark in your tone, a little more life in your eyes.

“Yeah, I think we can make it through the entire trilogy if we hurry.” There’s a grin on his lips as he says it.

“Spencer, don’t play with me here. We’re talking serious business.” He laughs, hiking your bag higher on his shoulder as he watches you wipe your tears.

“I’m not playing. Is your go-bag full or do you want to stop by your place on the way to mine?” He hopes secretly that you don’t have your own sleep clothes, it’s a selfish want to see you in one of his shirts or even a cardigan.

“I have clothes, we can go straight there. And you’re driving, you have all the maps in your head with the shortest routes.”

Spencer nods, like he was ever going to make you drive. “Plus you’re a hazard on the road, absolute chaos behind a wheel.”

Spencer feels his chest lighten when your laugh explodes from you, loud and so like yourself as you wait for the elevator to open.

[astridselixir]

A/n: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED A DRAFT. I’M ACTUALLY CRYING. I FEEL SO UPSET. It was my first request too :(( This was a request from an anon but I also lost that when I deleted the draft, so anon, wherever you are, I’m sorry 🥹💔 Have this as an apology 😭

Characters: Caitlyn, Vi, Sevika, Jinx

Summary: Hcs when you sleep with them <3

Warnings: none. Just fluff and a bit suggestive ig

ִ ࣪𖤐*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Caitlyn

☆彡 Caitlyn is definitely clingy when you two sleep together. Like she just throws herself on you and she’s not ashamed of it, in fact, she’s proud of it.

She also really loves being held and will never pass up the opportunity to be the little spoon. Especially after a tiring day of work as an enforcer (with her coworkers being an ass to her), one simple hug from you and it’s as if her problems floated away. “Magic” as she would call it.

Her favorite position to sleep in would be wherein her face is all smushed up against your chest/belly. She loves it so much because it’s as close as she can get to you, letting her know that you were there and just within arms reach.

Although you aren’t sure how she gets into this specific position or how she moves without you noticing, but hey, it’s Caitlyn, you would love her even with her strange ways.

And of course, there’s the occasional worry that she might not be getting enough oxygen with her face buried onto you like that. You’ve brought this up to her a few times but she always dismisses that fact and would sometimes retort with something cheesy like: “Why would I need air when I have you, my love?” She’s such a romantic it’s adorable.

But besides that fact, sleeping with Caitlyn is always warm and comfortable. One that you can freely call a “safe haven”. Free from worries and doubts the minute she’s in your arms.

Vi

☆彡 Vi will most definitely not let you go if she doesn’t feel like it. And it doesn’t help the fact that she has an iron grip, so you know damn well there’s no way of resisting once you’re in her hold.

Let’s be real, Vi’s had a rough life so naturally, it would be hard for her to show affection. It’s something she’s ashamed of and tries her hardest to change whenever she’s with you. She’ll always try to be the best version of herself because that’s just how much she loves you.

She’s never been good with words since she’s learned how to solve problems with her fists, so it takes a bit of adjusting when you first get into a relationship together.

Because she’s not good with words, she shows her affection through actions more. These actions can be many things. From walking you home, to giving you meaningful gifts, to always taking care of you. But of course, her favorite is spending time with you and touching you anytime she can. And cuddles is the number one option when it comes down to it.

Vi is also definitely the type to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while giving you featherlight kisses all over your face, hoping to ease any pent up stress within your system as she holds you close to her.

She’s such a big softie when it comes to you and she’s not complaining <3

Sevika

☆彡 Just like Vi, you are trapped the minute Sevika pulls you down on your shared bed. She’s not afraid to cage you in her arms, causing your vision to be obscured by her muscles— which is a heavenly sight by the way. But, she knows you wouldn’t complain. And she also knows you like it too much to do so.

It’s not hard to tell that Sevika is much larger than you. Her tall frame and physique is enough to let everyone know that. You on the other hand, you’re much smaller. Not only in height but in weight too. You’re short and light, something Sevika finds adorable.

Now, let’s get something straight; Sevika isn’t soft, she’s stern and aggressive, which contrasts to your kind and lively personality.

Because of this, she isn’t afraid to tone her emotions down so you’ll be more comfortable, which is also why she’s so careful with you whenever you guys are cuddling or sleeping together— I mean, she doesn’t want to accidentally suffocate you in the middle of sleeping now does she?

Although, cuddling with Sevika either ends up becoming a make out session or her giving you multiple hickies that are impossible to cover. This woman’s libido is just too high and you are living for it.

Jinx

☆彡 Jinx 100% wraps her arms and legs around your body when you two are sleeping. She clings onto for dear life and her grip is always firm, as if not allowing you to leave unless she says so.

And her hair is most definitely just sprawled everywhere; on your face, your body, over the edge of the bed, everywhere.

She’s your unhinged, blue-haired Rapunzel 💙

Jinx is also a tease. You guys could be having such a sweet time cuddling and she’d slip her hands up your shirt and graze the skin of your stomach purposely, just to see your flustered reaction to her touch. She loves how quickly your face turns to a shade of crimson and the momentary panic in your eyes once you realize what she’s doing.

But other than that, Jinx is clingy. Like REALLY clingy.

When you guys sleep together, she would unconsciously nuzzle her face on your neck, smiling in content once she’s sure that you really are there and not just a figment of your imagination.

Because of Jinx’s past, she’s had a hard time accepting and giving affection. She’s so afraid that the minute she let’s her guard down, you’ll just get up and leave her— but you proved her wrong. You were there when Jinx was having her episodes, her breakdowns, practically all of her moments in darkness. You stayed beside her and comforted her through them.

And then and there she knew, she knew it was you she wanted to be with for life.

You were her everything. Her sanctuary, her sun, her life, her lover. She would do anything to keep you beside her, even if it meant needing to kill. But she would only resort to that if someone had badly hurt you. She’s learned to keep her impulsiveness in check since she doesn’t want to scare you off.

She knows she’s too much to bear but you’ve reassured her that she’s your too much.

And Jinx isn’t sure how many times she’s loved you even more.

(A/n: AAA FINALLY DONE. I hope you guys like it! And anon, wherever you may be, I hope you find this 😭 Thank you guys for reading and have a great day!)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HCs: Ken meeting a Human!Fem!Reader who owns a ranch

Wanted to write something for this movie bc it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days. So enjoy, lovelies! 

I’m taking requests for this movie so don’t be shy <3 

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

...........

After going back to the Real World to find a purpose for himself, Ken runs into you, a country girl who left the Mattel company to take care of your ranch.

You just stopped in the city to find new outfits..and instead found him rollerblading through the park, immediately recognizing him as a Ken.

You may not be in the company anymore but you just knew (especially with his vibrant outfit giving it away).

You two hit it off right away and eventually you go shopping together.

He gets a new cowboy outfit and is bashful when you pay for it (to which you reply that you..really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he had no money).

He’s like “ohh that happened before when I was with Barbie..we got arrested for the second time that day :D”

You’re very concerned and decide that he should stick with you from now on (not that anyone at Mattel would ever care about a Ken running around to begin with...you just didn’t wanna have to bail him out of jail).

On the truck ride back to your home, you mentioned owning a ranch and Ken’s in a w e

You tell him more about it, and he’s so intrigued and can’t stop staring at you the entire time, especially as you go on about how a lot of women in your world are cowgirls and how they aren’t represented enough.

He bluntly states that he once believed “patriarchy” was all about the horses and you nearly laughed, but he seemed sad about it, so you assure him if he wanted to see horses, he made the right decision coming with you.

You introduce him to one of your favorite steeds and he’s SO overjoyed to actually see one in person. Like petting its mane and asking dozens of questions like an excited kid.

“Are you sure Barbieland didn’t have any horses of their own?”

“No, we just have the ones on sticks and our imaginations.” He pouts, mimicking the way he rode invisible horses with his hands. “But this? This is WAY cooler!!”

He tries mounting your horse, envisioning himself riding off into the sunset, free as a bird while shouting “yeehaw” at the top of his lungs-

Only for it to rear its head up and nearly stomp on his foot, with you having to calm it down as he snaps back to reality, looking utterly distraught and stressed over upsetting it.

“Alrighty. Ken. If you wanna ride a horse..the first step is earning its respect. Thought you would’ve learned about that in those books....but if you’ll let me, I’ll show you how to properly mount one. Luckily this one here’s accustomed to double riders.”

His face lights up and he listens to every instruction you give him, from placing the saddle on its back to climbing on, and finally how to control the direction he wants it to go.

For this one time, however, you take the reins and let him sit behind you, hugging you a bit too tightly for your liking, but you allow it as you show him around the rest of your ranch.

He just likes the closeness fr and you.

By the time the day’s over, your horse got better acquainted with Ken and let him ride around for a little while before you gotta put it in the stable for the night.

Before he could worry about where he was gonna go, you tell him he can stay with you as long as he wants.

He’s so happy he just,,,,breaks down ugly crying into your arms.

Though he quickly apologizes, admitting he’s still getting used to crying freely and being more emotional and-

“It’s okay, Ken.” You reassure him. “We need more guys like that around here who ain’t afraid to shed a tear or two.”

“Th-Thanks...Barbie told me it’s an amazing feeling. And honestly..it kinda is.”

After that small heart-to-heart talk, he gifts you his horseshoe necklace as a sign of his appreciation, that dopey grin returning to his face when you take it and wear it right away.

Yeah, you’ve only met each other for a day and he’s smitten the moment you started treated him as an equal. You let him have his own room, bed, wardrobe, etc. (and in time he'll have his own horse too).

All you ask is that he helps you manage the ranch, but at this point he’s willing to do anything for you now.

Finally, he realizes this was his dream all along.

One that Barbieland couldn't provide, but that was alright.

Patriarchy is overrated, anyways. This was all he wanted.

[sukunas-wife]

Can I please get a Sukuna family scenario where maybe they see future Yuji... Maybe when he's all grown up. It's fine if you don't want to do it

Baby Yuji to Grown Yuji 😭😭 I’m not sure it’ll be good but yeah! I’ll try for you 🥺🤍

-

Yuji left the Palace when he turned 19, the way you cried when you held his face for the last time smothering him in kisses 🥹 He was your baby boy, your first child, sure his sister and brother were still in the house but you loved him deeply. He clung to your side more and never failed to run to your side in trouble. If Sukuna wasn’t there to dry your eyes, there was Yuji to hug you and tell you “It’ll be okay mom, we can fix it! We just gotta.. we gotta.. I don’t know but we’ll figure it out!” That bright smile he had since he was 2, it was the last time you’d see it for who knows how long. You sniffled feeling Megumi pressed himself into your side hugging you, you smiled rubbing his back when he buried his face into your stomach. Nobara was being fiesty saying “who’s gonna miss him anyways! It’s good he’s leaving he was so loud anyways! A real nuisance if anything.”

Still she started to tear up, Sukuna pulled her into his side. The tears fell freely while she held on tight to his shirt.

The house was quieter, as Megumi and Nobara bickered; it was never as lively as when Yuji was home. The years passed slowly before one morning Sukuna came in with Uraume, dropping into his throne you came to see him. He held his hand out to Uraume who gave him a letter, “This is for you.”

Confused, you took the letter, opened it and read it. Sukuna watched and panicked when you started to cry. He stood up coming over to you snatch the letter away to see who had told you what

“Hey mom

It’s Yuji, your favourite son :)

I just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming home soon. It’s been a long time but I think I’m ready! Tell dad to save a fight for me when I get home! I know I can take him now!

I hope this letter actually gets there, maybe I’ll get there first..

Oh! Will you make those sweet and savoury noodles I used to love? I tried but it always tasted burnt or rubbery. Don’t tell Gumi and Noba I’m coming home! I want it to be a surprise! But I should be home in time for the first day of winter. I miss the snowy hills. I can't imagine Megumi going out and messing with all the snow. He always hated the cold unless he changed. Let's go for a walk when I get back! I miss those milk buns and tea you used to make,

Make sure to tell dad I’ll be home so he better be there! He can’t run now.

Signed, your son Yuji”

Sukuna let out a hearty laugh, “Brat really thinks he can take his old man huh? I’ll prove to him he can’t.” The smirk on Sukuna’s face eased you, you smiled the last tears falling.. “Ryo.. What day is it?” He looked confused before Uraume spoke up, “it’s the first day of winter Lady Y/n.” Almost as if on Cue there was a knocking on the palace doors, Sukuna grinned before making his way to his throne gesturing you to get out the room, you didn’t want to because that’s your baby boy but you definitely wanted to have feel better noodles after he got out in his place by his dad. So you left, Megumi and Nobara were both respectively in their own rooms. Odds are Nobara was planning her attire for the festival the city held every year and Megumi.. well he’s probably resting after having trained with his father all day.

——

Sukuna motioned for Uraume to open the doors, they did.

“So Brat, you really think you can take me on now?” The smug look on Sukuna’s face almost faltered when he saw Yuji had similar markings to his own human form. Yuji smiled brightly, a feature Sukuna would’ve lacked if he wasn’t smiling as bright with how his son entered the room confident. “I think it’s time someone gave you a run for your money.” Yuji was confident, and that might have been his downfall, 7 years may have seemed like a long time. But for Sukuna those 7 years were a breeze. Yuji may have been off training but Sukuna had been training his own kids with their own unique techniques. Smacking his hands on the throne's arms, he stood up, “Uraume.” “Yes Lord Sukuna.” He quickly set up a barrier to the throne room.

“Alright Brat, I’ll go easy on you, I think you’ve forgotten who gave you your malevolent shrine.” Yuji laughed, “You gave it to me, but I perfected it.”

Yuji had indeed not perfected the Malevolent Shrine. Here he laid in an all too familiar position, face down in the red liquid blowing bubbles while his 3/400 pound dad sat on his back holding him in place critiquing him on his flaws. Explaining what he could do better, and how he could improve before he lifted his head, “Okay okay I get it, King of Curses geez cut me some slack I’m your son.” Sukuna laughed standing up off his son before offering a hand when Yuji sat up, his legs crossed, hand rubbing the back of his head. Opening his eyes he saw his dads stretch out, for a second he remembered that same when he fell into a pit of snow one winter and looking up he saw his dad stretching his hand out with an unamused expression that turned to a smirk when Yuji tried to shuffle away. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up like he was nothing.

Yuji smiled with closed eyes, taking his dads hand, being pulled straight into a bone crushing hug. While Sukuna crushed him his domain disappeared, “Welcome Home Yuji.” Sukuna put him down, patting his shoulder with a heavy hand, Yuji standing rigid as he smiled, body shook slightly under the weight of his dads heavy pats. He was proud of his son's improvement, but overall he was glad to have his son back home.

Looking around Yuji asked “Where’s mom?” Sukuna’s head cocked to the side, “Your letter got here a few minutes before you did, when you knocked she went off to kitchen. I was doing her a favour by keeping you busy for so long. Yuji sniffed and his stomach growled, the savoury smell of his favourite food coming through the palace, “m hungry.”

Sukuna smiled, crossing his arms over his chest nodding with his head, “Let’s go find your mother then.”

——-

“Mom?” You smiled over your shoulder “Hey sweetie.” Megumi rested his head on your shoulder hugging you. He was watching how you were cutting spring onions. His stomach growled when he spoke up, “We haven’t had these noodles since Yuji was here, I thought you forgot how to make them..” he was looking at the bowls of savoury noodles steaming topped with sesame seeds. One, two, three, four, five… six? “You and Nobara never asked and when I did make em I had to force your dad finish the pot with me when you two made excuses not to eat.” You laughed lightly, bringing a hand up to rub his head.

He huffed through his nose, “It reminds us of him..” you turned to see the top of his head, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You started to sprinkle the spring onions over the middles, “You act like he’s dead Gumi,” kissing the top of his head, “Go get Nobara tell her she doesn’t have a choice. Drag her back if you have to.” He let out a curt laugh, “alright but if you hear her screaming.” You smiled nodding with your head, “Go Gumi.” He stretched standing back up straight, “I’ll be back then.”

Just as he left through the other door Yuji and Sukuna came in laughing from the opposite door. “So he was looking up at me with this ugly face. I almost felt bad for him but I told him “Know your place fool and shhhhk” Yuji made a slicing motion, Sukuna looked proud. “Mom!” Yuji’s face perked up when he saw you, he ran over to hug you “missed you…” For a second his voice was shaky and there was a crack in his resolve. You teared up hugging him back and not letting go. He leaned down and pressed his cheek against your shoulder, eyes closed, the same way he used to sleep on your shoulder as a kid. His grip didn’t loosen when you rubbed your hand up and down his back, “missed you too baby.” Sukuna behind Yuji’s back made a gagging motion before he looked over at the noodle bowl pulling on a noodle to eat. “Cmon I think your dads hungry and Gumi went to get Nobara.”

He didn’t move, he just hummed and you patted his back, “yuuu” you cooed at him before he stood up, “Alright, I’m starved! I’ll help take em out.” You swatted his hand away, “We don’t pay the kitchen help to just sit around. You go sit down.” The kitchen staff started to get everything ready, Sukuna pulled you into his side hugging you with both arms into his left side. “He looks so much like you Ryo…” Sukuna nodded chest puffing up, “Brat’s a damn menace too, wait till he tells you about what he did to a group or sorcerers who tried to wrongly attack him.”

You looked up at Sukuna worried, and he rolled his eyes, “That’s OUR son, I’ll be damned if I ever thought he couldn’t handle his own.”

He squeezed your shoulder nodding with his head, following his lead you both came to see Megumi and Nobara harassing Yuji. Megumi was ignoring him entirely facing away but you could see the soft smile. Nobara was pinching his cheeks forcefully, moving his face around and through it all Yuji was smiling brightly, his eyes closed, “I missed you both too.” Nobara looked shocked and she let him go, she looked away, “Yeah..” you didn’t miss how she closed her eyes with a smug smile.

Tag: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

Some these won’t tag 🥹 I’m sorry 🤍🤍

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Darling, please.

Pairing: Husband!John Price x Wife!Reader Summary: You should know better, better than to let him back into your home. You should know better, but once again, you dash yourself against the rocks for John Price. Warnings: Grief, PTSD(Implied), Trauma(Implied), Mention of character death (IYKYK), MW2/3 Spoilers, Broken Marriage Dynamics, Angst, No happy ending, Self-Destructive Behaviours (Price and Reader), Blood, Violence, Gore(soft), smut, Unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks), Crying, Regret, Dubcon (it’s not extreme but it’s worth mentioning that neither are really in a place to consent (high emotions etc.)), A little Coercion(again not egregious but it’s there).

Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: My first Price fic, and totally inspired by the below scene. Thank you @pinkypromisepascal for beta-ing this for me! ILU for indulging my CoD delusions. W/C - 1,450

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Part 2

You straddle his thighs, sleep shorts and loose t-shirt already stained with another man’s blood as you dab the wet flannel over his bruised body. The side of the bath creaks behind him as he shifts his weight. 

He won’t tell you what happened. He’s barely said a word since stumbling through your front door an hour ago.  

There’s so much blood. 

“John,” you plead, “Please, just tell me if you’re hurt. I won’t take you to A&E, I just need to know if you’re ok.” 

“M’fine, not my blood,” he growls, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder as he refuses to look at you. 

You sigh, throwing down the flannel on the floor as you try to rise to your feet. A large hand wraps around your right ankle, anchoring you in place as you glower down at the broken man. The heat that explodes from the point of contact has your breath catching in your throat. 

You’ve missed him. Really missed him. 

“Please, don’t go,” it’s his turn to beg as he finally meets your gaze. The whites of his eyes are stained pink, raw from crying. His dark blue irises are chasms of despair as he sucks you back in. 

“John, I can’t keep doing this,” you say softly as you slump back onto his lap, eyes downturned as it’s your turn to avoid those baleful eyes of his, “I can’t stand by and watch as you slowly kill yourself.” 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he skims his fingertips up your sides, under the fabric of your t-shirt, “So sorry,” he repeats, and you let out a shuddering breath as he drags the rough pads of his calloused fingertips over your ribs. 

“S’not enough John,” you say, your voice trembling as his thumbs swipe over your nipples, pulling a soft mewl from your lips as he brings them to stiff peaks under his touch. 

“It was my fault,” he breathes, voice thick with emotion as you look up into his eyes, tears flowing freely now as he finally breaks, “He’s dead because of me, might as well’ve pulled the trigger myself.” 

“Oh John,” you sob as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, “Come here,” you insist, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him against you as he slides his hands around to your back, pinning you to him as he begins to cry. 

You run your fingers through his too-long hair, lips pressed to his temple as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His beard tickles at your skin as the wet evidence of his grief collects on the collar of your t-shirt. His hands roam your back, blunt nails scraping down your spine as his sobs begin to abate. Through the ferrous tang of blood, you can smell him. His caffeine shampoo, notes of pepper and sandalwood. His sweat, fresh and raw, conjuring memories of being pinned beneath his wide frame. Flashes of the way his skin tastes when you bite into his flesh to stymy your own screams. 

It seems he’s losing himself to your body too. His fingers press possessively into the small of your back as you feel his arousal pressing through the fabric of his jeans, nudging at your clothed core. 

“Need you darling,” he mumbles against the slope of your neck, “Please.” 

You want to say no, you can’t let him in again, he’ll drag you down with him. It’s why you told him to leave, why it’s been six months of no-contact. But you know what today is. You know why he’s so strung out. 

It’s been a year since Johnny died. A year since you lost your husband to grief, rage, and despair. 

“Darling,” he urges again, a darkness to his tone as his nose presses into that spot behind your ear that makes your cunt clench around nothing, “Please.” 

His teeth nip at the shell of your ear as his thick, hot tongue laves over the sting to soothe you. You want to say no, but you can’t. 

“Ok,” you whisper, trembling hands cupping his bearded cheeks as you pull him away from your neck, only to crash your lips into his. His eyes go wide – as if he expected you to go through with your rejection – before they flutter closed. 

He growls against your lips as he tugs your shorts down, leaving them stretched and tangled around your knees as you fumble with his belt buckle. He lifts his hips so you can pull his boxer briefs and jeans down in one. His thick length slaps wetly against his blood-stained stomach. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips past your lips, claiming it for his own as he grips your hips. 

You whine as he pulls you down onto his cock, you wince at the stretch, you’re not as wet as you’d like. But you soon forget the discomfort as he seats himself fully inside you. You break the kiss with a cry as your head lolls back. You’re so full.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he rasps as he sucks hard against your pulse point, rocking you up and down on his cock, his grip near-bruising on your thighs, “Missed you so much.” 

“Missed you too John,” you weep in tainted bliss as you aid his efforts to impale you on his dick. You move in tandem with his thrusts, bouncing on his cock as you dig your nails into his pectorals. Blood and grime forcing themselves into your nail beds. 

“I love you,” he breathes your name as he slams you down harder, your ass cheeks slapping obscenely against his muscular thighs. 

“I love you too John,” you pant into his open mouth as you press your forehead to his, “Never stopped loving you, never will.” 

His tongue slips into your mouth as he plants his feet on the floor, elevating you as he starts to pound up into your slick hole. You clench around him, drawing desperate gasps from him as you tug on his hair. Your other hand drops to your clit as you roll the sensitive bud with desperation as you feel your orgasm building. 

“You like that, Captain?” You snarl as you yank his head back, drawing a yelp from him as he slams you down on his cock, “Yeah, you do,” you purr as you shudder and clench around him harder this time. 

“Let me come inside,” he begs, and you moan as you feel the heat build in your navel as you increase the pressure on your clit, “Please.” 

“Do you deserve to come inside me, Captain?” You goad and he groans louder at the repeated use of his rank. 

“No,” he chokes out as he sobs, still thrusting up into you, making you cry out in rapturous desire, “Don’t deserve you darling, but I need you.” 

There’s an unspoken plea in his voice and you relent. You push aside the agony you know you will feel tomorrow. Both physically and emotionally, this will ruin you. But as always, you throw yourself at the feet of Captain John Price. 

“Come for me John, come inside me,” you whine as you come hard. Your pussy is like a vice, choking John’s cock as you cry his name again and again in a pleasure-ridden dirge. 

John roars, his head thrown back as he ruts up into you again and again, splitting you in two as he chases his release. You’re putty above him, face buried in his damp, bloodstained hair as your pleasure bleeds into him. 

“Love you,” he whispers your name as he comes, and you grind down onto his cock as he buries himself deep inside you. 

“Love you too John, always.” 

You stay there for some time, knees scuffed and sore, thighs ablaze with exertion. John mutters sweet nothings, promising to get his shit together. You humour him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. The blood and sweat that clings to his skin disguise the way your tears flow in rivulets down his chest. 

You know he wants to mean it; you know he loves you. You want to believe him, you want to love him back, the way he thinks he loves you.  

But you know that it’s a fantasy. You know he’s going to slip the moment he wakes up tomorrow with the same cavernous hole in his chest. He’ll leave without a word, any remnant of your love for him eaten away with shame. And the cycle will start again. 

But for now, you can pretend. 

For the next few hours you have your husband back. 

And for now, that’s enough. 

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Part 2

[generalllimaginesss]

"I'm not letting you drive home in this condition” with Nico. I feel like he gives off protective energy. I’m imagining friends to lovers vibes. He falls first but they’re best friends. Maybe they met when he joined the Devils. Like randomly met somewhere and have been close ever since. And she has a really bad day at work. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. And she’s crying driving home and drives to his instead because she doesn’t want to be alone. Maybe he makes dinner (idk if this man can cook tbh) and then she’s still upset but tries to leave so he can get on with his night and he insists she stay because he doesn’t want her driving upset. And that’s when she realizes she’s in love with him. Like she drove to his place unannounced because she knew he was the only one who could comfort her and the only one she wanted to go to.

I’ve realized that I’m a sucker for Nico. He gives off golden retriever vibes and I feel like he would be such a nice person to be friends with. I hope you like it!!

••

You didn’t realize when you picked up your friends shift, now making you a double, that you would make very little money and the tables that you served were horrible. Not to mention your anxiety was at an all time high while you were waiting on a letter to tell you if you were accepted into the graduate program to your dream school. When all of these emotions combine, it makes for a shitty day.

Twelve hours after you clocked in, you were only up $150 dollars and finally were able to leave, your last table staying almost an hour after closing. There was dried sauces all over your uniform, your hair was disgusting, and you just felt heavy. With your emotions clouding your judgement, all you wanted to do was go to sleep.

As you made your way to your car that was parked behind the restaurant you worked at, a couple of notifications from your email caught your eye. The emails came from the two schools that you were betting your future on…

You decided it could hold off, the tears burning the corner of your eyes took priority, and you didn’t know if you could handle what the emails revealed.

While running your hands through your tangled mess of hair, tears freely fell, the product of being completely exhausted. The one person that kept flashing in your mind, however, was Nico. The devils played Anaheim and you weren’t able to keep up with the score, so you wanted to congratulate him on the win.

As much as you hated your job, you always reminded yourself that it was temporary, and most of all that without it you wouldn’t have Nico. The one person in the world that felt as lonely as you at one point on a rainy afternoon 6 years ago.

When Nico had first gotten to New Jersey, he didn’t feel close to anybody. Sure, he was the first overall draft pick. Sure, people loved him. But at the end of the day he felt like he had nobody. He felt like he had to keep this persona of “Mr. Tough Guy” up to prove himself.

He found himself all alone in the restaurant you work at, managing to snag you as a server. He must’ve sat at your table for hours, always finding something else to talk about every time you checked on him. He stayed until you got off and proposed the idea of going out to grab a drink or two, to which you happily obliged, finally hopeful that you found a friend.

Where Nico felt lonely in hockey, you felt lonely in school. Making friends in college was hard, especially when you’re from out of state and aren’t in Greek Life or in any extracurriculars. Your roommate and you had hardly had 10 conversations in the first year you lived together, so your studies became your main priority.

When Nico and you realized that you had a lot more in common than you thought, the friendship just developed naturally. When you were off work you supported him at his games. When he had a day off he helped you make flash cards and study. And on the rare chance that you both had nothing to do, movie nights were your thing.

Six years later and he was your very best friend. You told him everything. Every detail of your life was known by Nico and vice versa. You weren’t dependent on Nico for emotional support, but he was sweet to have around.

Tonight, however, was going to be one of those nights where you just needed somebody. You just needed Nico.

The tears cleared your eyes long enough for you to send Nico a quick text letting him know that you were headed to his apartment. He immediately responded with a thumbs up.

While you were driving, just about every depressing Olivia Rodrigo and Gracie Abram song played, reminding you of your relationship that had ended almost a month ago. You felt bad because Nico already had to deal with the mess you were then, and here you are again. Driving to his apartment, an emotional wreck and tired of the world.

You parked beside his car and walked up the flight of stairs that led to his door. You barely were able to knock when he opened the door and saw the state you were in. He could tell that you had been crying, probably only stopping when you parked, and that you needed somebody.

“Come here,” he held his arms opened in the doorway, enveloping you in the coziest embrace, the smell of his body wash lingering from his shower. Since he towered over you, he gently held your head against his chest and rested his head on yours, placing light pecks to the crown of your head.

He held you like that until you pulled away and made your way completely into his apartment, him closing and locking the door behind you.

He watched quietly as you made yourself at home, taking your shoes off and untucking your shirt from your pants. He chuckled to himself when he saw that you were wearing completely mismatched socks. He loved the quirky things that you did.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to congratulate you on the win,” your voice was nasally since you had been crying so hard and your nose was stopped up.

Nico smiled sadly, not wanting to make you feel worse, but aware he should probably tell you the truth.

“We lost, actually. Five to one.”

You groaned, disappointed in yourself that you didn’t bother to look up the score to make sure they won.

“I’m sorry. I worked a double and wasn’t able to watch. I just assumed with Anaheim’s record that you all would win.”

“Yeah, well, it just didn’t end up in our favor. They played pretty physical. You should go back and watch it,” He winked at you, a smile stretching from one corner of his mouth.

“But anyways, what’s wrong? I know you didn’t come here to just congratulate me on ‘winning,” he looked you up and down, taking note of the exhaustion that spewed from you.

“It just wasn’t a good day. I didn’t make money and then on the way over here music that reminded me of-” You tried to finish, but Nico immediately cut you off, reminding you of a relatively new rule that he had made.

“We don’t speak his name,” his eyebrows raised, warning you to not finish your sentence.

You sighed, “Ok, well you know who I’m referring to.”

Nico walked to his sofa, plopping down and patting the spot beside him , offering it to you. You happily obliged, tucking one leg underneath you and the other tucked into your chest.

“They emailed me back…the schools,” you announced, to which Nico instantly perked up.

“And? Did you get in?” A part of him wanted to see you live your dream, but he knew that with you getting into your dream school would mean you would be leaving New Jersey. More specifically, leaving him. The thought of not having you only 15 minutes away made him want to punch a wall. He had let himself fall for you, knowing that while New Jersey was home for him, it was merely a checkpoint for you. It was one step closer to you taking off in life.

“I didn’t look. I’m scared to,” You admitted, pulling out your phone and handing it to him.

“Please read it for me.”

He clicked on the email, his expression hard to read.

He didn’t want to read the news to you. He didn’t want to be the one that told you that you had been waitlisted by the two schools you were betting on, but he knew it was better for him to read it to you than you read it alone.

When you figured he had ample time to read both emails and he wasn’t telling you anything, a pit in your stomach began to take place. Tears quickly puddled, spilling over your bottom eyelid as if they were a never ending fountain.

“I didn’t get in, did I?” Your voice broke, in return breaking a little piece of Nico.

“Waitlisted by both, but that’s not a no,” He tried to make you feel better, but when your body started shaking and the tears turned into sobs, he knew you needed to be held. He obliged, wrapping his arm around your side, pulling you closer to him and rubbing your side soothingly.

You instinctively laid your head on his side, wanting to curl into him as closely as you could, as if he could protect you from everything that’s wrong in the world. Everything that felt like it was out to get you.

“Have you had anything to eat?” He knew as soon as he asked it that you wouldn’t want to eat. He also knew that if you had been working all day that you wouldn’t take the time to stop and eat.

He felt you shake your head side to side, confirming what he already knew.

“I was about to make a quick dinner. I was thinking breakfast? Maybe some pancakes, eggs and bacon?” He ran his fingers through your hair, deciding to take your ponytail holder out and place it on his wrist. You sighed, the relief from the tension of your ponytail helping you feel slightly better.

“Please,” you said, knowing he was going to ask you if you wanted some either way. No matter if you made it into your dream schools or not, you still had to eat.

Nico slowly peeled himself off the couch, finally realizing how exhausted he was. Back-to-back games finally catching up with him.

You followed him to the kitchen, claiming stake to one of the barstools, watching him as he began to prepare the food.

“I know you probably don’t know, but what’s your backup plan? Are you going to apply to other schools?” He asked, cracking eggs into a bowl with pancake mix.

“No. I’ll have to wait until next year. I’m stuck here for another year, Nico,” your voice was strained and scratchy, but he understood you.

“That’s not all bad is it? I mean I’m here,” he attempted to make you laugh, but it was to no avail.

“My roommate is moving back home and I literally have no one else who I think I could room with. We both planned on this being it for Jersey,” you laughed, not out of humor, but at the thought of how much has gone wrong in 12 hours.

“What about staying with me?” He asked the question before he could catch himself. Would you see straight through to his true feelings for you, or would you just think he was extending a friendly offer to one of his friends who needed a little help.

“Nico, why the hell would you want me to move in with you? Have you met me?” Your puffy eyes made eye contact with his sweet ones.

Oh, how absolutely clueless you were. It would have been cute had it not been his feelings for you in the mix.

“You’re not that bad. I’ve definitely had worse roommates.” He smiled as he flipped the pancakes on the griddle and placed the eggs in a pan on the stove to cook.

“I can’t accept your pity offer,” you reached across the counter for a paper towel to catch the snot that was creeping out of your nose.

“Don’t think of it as a pity offer. Think of it as…what’s that word for when it’s not a parasite, but both things benefit?” He looked to the ceiling as if it held the answer to his missing word.

You laughed, finding it cute that he sometimes can’t think of the right English word he’s looking for.

“Mutualism?” You pitch the word to him, to which he points to you enthusiastically.

“That! Think of it as that. I mean, I could use a little help around here,” he motioned to his apartment.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’d have to think about it,” Your tears were becoming manageable with him trying to make you feel better. You’d internally think about everything that went wrong and tears would brim again, but when Nico talked it made it better.

“Well think about it,” he said, his bacon looking a tiny bit burnt as he transferred it from the pan to a dish to serve to you along with some scrambled eggs and a pancake.

You began to dig in to the food, Nico following close behind you as he fixed his plate and sat beside you. The two of you ate in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but a peaceful silence. It allowed for you to think and for him to think about you. He wanted to feel sad about you not getting into the graduate program, but a whole extra year with you? He couldn’t be too upset.

The two of you finished eating and washed your dishes, putting them up, Nico returning to the living room on the sofa and you putting your shoes back on.

“What are you doing?” Nico asked, his eyebrows raised inquisitively as he watched you tie your shoes.

“I’ve got to go home,” you said as you stretched your back.

“I’m not letting you drive home in this condition,” He started, ready to pitch his case for you to stay the night.

“You’re tired, upset, and you don’t need to be by yourself right now. Stay with me,” His eyes were practically begging you, but his tone was stern, evident that he would not be budging.

“I have no clothes-”

“I have some t-shirts.”

“I need to wash my hair and I have no shampoo or conditioner.”

“Nina left some here, use hers,” Nico had a solution to all of your excuses, making you realize that there really wasn’t a reason why you couldn’t spend the night.

“Just stay,” His voice was barely above a whisper, wrapping itself around your heart as you caved into him.

“Fine,” you sighed.

He showed you where all of Nina’s products were and laid out one of his old t-shirts on the counter in the bathroom. It was long enough to be a dress on you, swallowing you whole.

He ran the water for you and left you in the bathroom by yourself, causing you to let out a few silent sobs before getting in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the things you have no control over. You tried to think about the positives. You had Nico for another year.

Nico. Nico Hischier that held up your table all of those years ago. Nico Hischier that helped you study for every stupid exam you had. Nico Hischier that always ran to you first after every home game. Your Nico. Your best friend. The one that always had an open shoulder for you to cry on and open arms when you needed a hug.

Did guys treat girls like this that they just loved as friends? You sure as hell had never had one like him.

While thinking about all that Nico has been there for, tears begin to fall. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the possibility that Nico could be more than a friend. Would he feel the same? Would these newly discovered feelings be the downfall of your friendship?

Just as quick as the feelings surfaced, you shut it down. Nico meant too much to you for you to lose him over selfish feelings. Everything was perfect with him and your stupid little crush would not ruin that.

While you continued to shower, Nico changed the sheets on his bed, putting on fresh ones from the dryer so that you would be warm when you got in. He decided he would take the couch.

The smile that he had hidden while consoling you appeared as he prepared his apartment for you for the night. He thought about the possibility that you might move in with him, relishing in the idea that he could see you everyday when he woke up and at night when he went to sleep. Never ending movie nights and having his best friend 24/7…what possibly could be better?

You being his girlfriend. Would that come in time? Did he need to tell you his feelings or keep them to himself?

He had always been able to conceal his feelings, the fear of losing you greater than the pain of only being your friend. That had worked out fine, but when you rounded the corner of the hallway into the living room with his shirt hanging right above your knees and a pair of his long socks bunched on your leg, his breath hitched.

He let his eyes take in everything about you. The way your hair curled at the nape of your neck from the water, the random bruises that decorated your legs from being clumsy, a few pimples that dusted your face, only visible when your makeup was not, the random bit of mascara that you hadn’t managed to wash off.

He wanted you. He wanted you forever. He wanted you as his wedding date, his girl at the games. He wanted to share holidays with you, exchange anniversary gifts and plan birthday parties with you.

Everything in life he wanted to do with you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He announced as he walked over to your small frame.

You were confused, about to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, but as soon as you realized he was leaning down to kiss you, your eyes grew wide in shock. His kiss cleared up what he meant.

He cupped your face with his hands, each thumb resting on your cheekbones as he very slightly pulled you closer to him.

Your lips moved in synch, making up for years of him loving you.

He noticed that you had a chapped spot on your lip, but he didn’t mind. The taste of strawberries from your lipstick from earlier lingered, causing him to deepen the kiss, never wanting to forget that taste.

You pulled away, needing to breathe. His eyes were still the soft brown ones that you loved, but you could tell that they looked at you differently from how you thought they did. Just standing in a t shirt and socks, they made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

A smile pulled at your lips, causing him to follow, his dimple making an appearance on his face. His scruff itched your face, but you didn’t mind.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m upset you didn’t get into school because I’m not. Call me selfish or whatever, but I need you. You keep me grounded. I want you here with me. Move in here, find something to do while you wait to reapply. I just know there’s nobody else that I love the way I love you,” he ended his confession with a kiss to your forehead.

“Ok,” You whispered, not wanting the warmth of his body to ever be far from you.

“I love you, little lady. A lot more than you realize,” He smirked at the blush that spread across your cheeks, the rosy pink that highlighted your skin revealing the effect that this boy has on you.

He pulled you into him, hugging you as if you would be gone any second and he couldn’t let you go.

When he finally did let you go, you both hopped into his bed and began watching Harry Potter, starting with The Prisoner of Azkaban since he knew that was your favorite one.

You fell asleep first, your head resting on his chest as he scratched your back. When he noticed the soft snores escaping your mouth, he smiled to himself. This was how it was meant to be. You and him.

*

*

*

*

[fallonsfics]

Pretty When You Cry

Warnings: Smut, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, profanity, all porn no plot (Like I’m talking immediate smut. What can I say? I was feeling a little whoreish last night)

Overview: You just couldn't help it, you couldn't wait til he got home. Now you have to face the consequences.

Word Count: 900 (Short and sweet for you guys today)

Coriolanus had you bent over his lap; his digits pumping in and out of your drenched pussy. He had caught you fingering yourself when you promised him you’d wait for him to return home from the rounds he made as a peacekeeper in District 12. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you moaned. “Such a fucking slut, couldn’t wait til I got home hm?”

“I-I’m sorry Coryo—” He cut you off with a swift slap to your cunt.

“No, you don’t get to call me that right now. Only good girls get to call me that, right now you’re acting like a greedy whore. Try again.” He spat.

You whimpered as you squeezed your eyes shut tight as the stinging sensation lingered on your cunt. “I-I’m sorry sir!” You yelped, tears brimming in your eyes.

“So desperate you couldn’t wait til I got home, hm?” Coriolanus jeered as he easily plunged his fingers back into your cunt. You tried to babble some form of apology to him but your repertoire of words disappeared as he thrust his digits quickly within you. “Already have you fucked dumb and I haven’t even used my cock.” Your eyes rolled back as he degraded you, moaning loudly. Coriolanus suddenly pulled his fingers from you, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing. You let out a pathetic yelp as he suddenly tugged you by your hair to pull you off of his lap.

“Here’s what you’re going to do for me,” he said, glowering at you, “you’re gonna ride my cock until I cum. If you do a good enough job I’ll let you cum too, you understand?” For a moment you didn’t respond, you were still dazed from the brutal pace he fingered you at. He gave your face a light slap. “I asked you a question.” He reminded firmly. 

“I-I understand.” You managed to stutter out. Coriolanus unzipped his trousers and tugged them down, his erection sprang up as soon as he tugged his boxers down as well. You blushed and looked away for a moment.

“Don’t act shy now, we both know how much of a whore you are.” He said huskily. You slowly straddled him and sank down on his cock, letting out a shameless moan. You had been waiting for this all day. Coriolanus let out a ragged breath as you started to move your hips, grinding down on him. “That’s it, that’s a good fucking slut.” He hissed as he gripped your hips.

You started bouncing faster on his cock, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. “Come on, you can do better than that baby, we both know that.” Coriolanus teased. You let out a whine as you picked up the pace. You started clenching your muscles to squeeze his cock tighter. He let out a low groan as he tightened his grip on you. He started moving you up and down to help you keep that brutal pace that he loved so much. “That’s it, take it like the needy bitch you are.” He grunted. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks as he used your aching cunt.

God, you loved when he degraded you. He was right too, you were a slut. His slut and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You tried to lean down to kiss him, however he tugged your hair back to stop you. “No, sluts don’t get kisses. Make me cum first.” He commanded. 

You let out a sob but kept bouncing on his cock. “P-Please I need to cum, please let me!” You cried. 

You looked down at him with those pretty tear filled eyes of yours. He felt himself twitch as you gazed at him with pleading eyes as you rode his cock. He reached down and started rubbing quick circles around your clit. He let out a deep groan as he came deep inside you. “Good fucking girl. Good girl, go ahead and come for me.” 

You felt your eyes roll back at his praise. That coupled with feeling him rubbing circles around your clit had you seeing stars. You let out a broken moan as you came undone around him. “Good girl, you deserve it for making me feel so good.” He praised.

You both caught your breath as you sat together. He had his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Did such a good job, baby.”

You nuzzled against his chest, and finally, you lifted your head. “Can I get my kiss now?” You asked.

Coriolanus chuckled and tipped your chin up further. He kissed you deeply, running his hand through your hair as he did. “Naturally. You were such a good girl for me weren’t you?” He said.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you…I just missed you so much Coryo.” You admitted shyly.

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head once more. “I understand that but I don’t want to miss all the fun.” 

"I won't do it again Coryo, promise!" You said with a little nod.

"Somehow I highly doubt that." He mumbled into your hair with a smirk.

[tvgals]

Hey I don’t know if your taking requests at the moment but I was thinking about a somewhat emotional piece . I was thinking about connie x bestfriend y/n reunion where they haven’t seen each other since 10th grade. Like y/n was on her way to a family event that was hosted at her parents house and like everyone knew the whole surprise thing he wanted to do so she walks in seeing everyone recording so she look confused and then he walks up behind her holding flowers and a teddy bear. ( I’m so sorry this is long but no pressure )

IM GOING BACK TO 505!

you and connie haven’t seen each other in over four years, imagine your face of surprise when he comes to see you.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭

you’d never felt the same as you did during tenth grade. you had a loyal bestfriend and a huge crush you still haven’t managed to get over. you sit up in your bed and rub your eyes, picking up your phone. you tap the screen to see new messages from your sister.

‘don’t forget abt that reunion td!!!’

‘momma says wear pink!’

you grin and take off your bonnet, letting your hair rest on the middle of your back. you get out of the bed and stretch, walking to the bathroom.

your train of thoughts ran about this morning, it seems as if you can’t get connie off of your mind these days. you already couldn’t let go of him, but it’s more than usual this month. you missed him an indescribable amount, wishing he’d text or call you. you’ve been thinking he’s more than likely forgotten about you, that he’s moved on and is living life freely. it hurt your heart to think about things like this, that he doesn’t care about you, but it was infact the opposite.

connie’s pov :

connie had a dopey grin on his face. a week or so ago, he’d gotten a dm from your sister on instagram, asking if he wanted to come and see you for the weekend. connie thought it was some joke, that he was being pranked, but once he saw all of the post’s including your beautiful face, he practically started kicking his feet. he texted back with an enthusiastic response, a smile on his face.

connie threw on a pair of dunks, a pair he bought a while ago because they reminded him of you, and headed out the door. he slid into his all black hellcat and made his way to your family home. your sister texted a few times, an even bigger smile making its way onto his face.

‘y/n is on her way now!!’

‘make sure you hide real good’

connie pulls up to your house and parks across the street. he looks over to his passenger seat and sighs before picking up the roses and chocolates, a teddy bear holding $200 in 20’s in front. he picks them up and gets out the car, walking to the side of your house where he’s sure he won’t be seen. five minutes or so went by before he saw your pink porsche pull into the driveway, you getting out dressed in a beautiful pink strapless two piece. connie smiles to himself.

you walk up the stairs to your house and when you open the door connie can hear the mumbles and laughs of your family members.

your pov:

you walk into the house to see everyone with their phones out, smiling and giggling.

“what are y’all recording for?” you giggle nervously. your sister comes up to you and tells you to close your eyes and turn around. you scrunch your face up in confusion but comply, turning around and squeezing g your eyes shut. connie got a text of ‘CMON!!’ from your sister and he walks up the stoop to your house, opening the door with a grin. “open your eyes!” you sister yells, laughing. you open your eyes to see connie holding all those thoughtful gifts for you.

“connie?” you laugh, a shocked look on your face. “hey, y/n.” he responds smiling. you throw yourself into a hug with connie. tears starting to roll down your face. “don’t cry, pretty girl.” connie says, hugging you back. you pull back from him and wipe your tears, looking at his hands. “is that for me?” you ask, looking back up at him. “of course.” he says, handing you your gifts.

“i thought you forgot about me..” you admit, looking at him. “of course not. i’ve been thinking about you for the past 4 years, pretty.” connie replies, hugging you once more.

“i missed you so much, connie.”

“i missed you more, y/n.”

i hope you enjoyed this… i’ll probably redo it but i felt the need to get it out.

[bluexiao]

#the embrace of the winds

–hugs hc’s to comfort reader who had lost a loved one 

–Aether, Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche / Wanderer, Xiao; gn! Reader | a request | comfort | to the anon who requested this, i hope this is not too late and i hope you will be comforted with this! p.s. i hope heizou comes home for you too!

XIAO

Amongst anyone, the last remaining Yaksha knows it too well–loss, a feeling, or a predicament that he finds himself familiar with. And even if it is something that he wished for you to never encounter, his protection can only go so far. 

He does not notice your silence at first. As much as he loves your voice, he appreciates your mere presence despite the lingering quietness in the air. But if there was one thing that he noticed, or rather, heard, was the soft sniffles that if it weren’t for his keen and enhanced senses, he would not have detected. 

He embraces you just as how you would embrace him when he is haunted by his losses, by his past, or by his karma. He gives back the same comfort that you give him, and he sincerely hopes he was doing it right. That at the very least, you would feel what he wants you to feel, receive what he has been receiving from you–the love, the care, and the kindness that you’ve been freely giving him. 

His head immediately whips to the side, to face you, only to flinch upon the sight of your forlorn, sunken eyes. 

There was nothing else he could do but hold you in his arms as he whispered assurances that he was going to be there for you, no matter what. He was never going to leave–how can he? Not when you had wrapped him so tightly in his heart and his soul, not when he had seen you like this over the loss of someone very dear to you. Now that he knows, he can never depart from this world, knowing you were still in it. And that was a promise he made to you that very day. 

“Let it out,” he says, voice tender yet steady, firm, “you need not hide it from me. There is no shame in showing one’s feelings… to another.” You told me that yourself, he thinks to himself. 

WANDERER

He is not entirely an empathetic person, but the same could not be said for you. 

Utterly unacceptable. He would feel this burning sensation running through his veins and a pang in his chest the moment he sees a single tear drop from his eyes. 

He’d flinch and stutter, mind running wild as he thinks of every other scenario that could’ve made you do such a face and let out droplets of tears down your cheeks. 

But then, he’ll be quite careful with his words and his actions, making sure that he thinks twice before letting them out. Quite. After all, he is still rough around the edges. Anything that is out of his experience would feel new and he’d naturally feel hesitant with–but the thing is, you are you. And even with that hesitance, he still does it. Because it’s you. 

“W-what the…” he mutters, unable to stop himself once he takes in the sight that you had shown him. 

You, upon hearing his entrance to your shared room, immediately wipe off your tears as you try to suddenly play it off with “Oh, Scara, you’re here… u-uhm, sorry, I’m a mess right now. I just-I just read something depressing, that’s all! A book.” 

His lips purse, frowning and brows crunched as he comes to a realization that you probably would not admit it anytime now. He hates this. Hates the tears that decorated your face and despite your beauty remaining nonetheless, the mere thought of seeing, hearing, or knowing you crying over something he cannot eradicate makes him feel… helpless.

But he hates it more when you hide something from him–especially the way you truly feel. 

“You do not have to feel the need to hide it, you know…” he mumbles, a frown on his face as he tries to soothe the muscles on your back with his palm caressing them as you had your arms encircled around him, just as he was on yours. “No matter what you say, no matter what you do, and what you feel. I want to know them all… get it?”

He bites his lower lip as he hears you sniffle, “But if you still don’t feel like it,” he pauses, “I’ll wait. I can wait for you-just don’t… keep it. Please.” 

VENTI

Sadness over loss is certain–a predestined fate that despite the different faces of grief that everyone shows, it was inescapable, no matter how much he wishes it wouldn’t be so. 

Especially to you. 

Though, he couldn’t really do anything–god or not, he cannot escape the death of the people around him. 

But how does he say this to you? How can you, a human, be able to understand the woes of a god who had outlived several humans before you? 

And so, all he could be was to wrap his arms around you and try to mend your heart with his warmth. 

“Shhh… I’m here, windblume. I’m here.” 

He rubs his palm over your back and not long after, he was humming a certain tune, almost like he was playing with his lyre and letting the tune play along. 

Because he’ll always be there. May it be the winds, or through time. He’s there--a fate he cannot escape. 

KAZUHA

Probably the type to think or say “If I could take away the pain from you, I would.” 

Not too long ago, he had experienced the same kind of pain, and the mere fact that you were to feel the same devastation… it pains him to see you in such a state–no matter if you hide it or not… but it definitely does feel even more painful to you. 

If you do intend to hide it, he would wait for you to open up until you do so. And if you immediately break in front of him, you would be immediately engulfed in the warmth of his arms and his chest, his voice making an effort to ease your nerves down, but not too forcefully. 

“Is there any way… I could help you, my sweet dove?” 

“Just… hold me… Kazu…” he hears the softness and vulnerability in your voice, the cracks and the tearing of a heart that had a part of it torn away. And it feels like it takes a part of his as well–but you are his priority, and he is willing to do anything for you. 

His hold on you tightens–not too much, but not too little, enough for you to feel him, to feel his comfort, and to feel his presence. 

AETHER

He was by your side before you could even ask him to. Pure instincts–must’ve been from the people he has met and along with his sensitivity to your feelings. Of course, more so to you. 

Though, it is a personality trait of his to not do anything that is not asked of him—at least, one without treating the other with respect. And so, he does not do anything on impulse such as touch you carelessly or kiss you so suddenly—before then, he’ll ask for your permission first. 

“May I hold your hand?” “May I kiss you?” 

And this time… is no different than that. But there are communications that cannot just be done through one’s voice. 

His eyes spoke to you–almost seemed like they did, because when you bit your lip and nodded, you were immediately wrapped with slender but strong and comforting arms, pulling you gently to let you rest your head on his shoulder and let your hands and arms grip on his form. And even if your hold on him was too tight, he never complained.

Of course, he truly understands you, but then, he doesn’t truly know how to comfort you. Because his understanding can only go so far. 

And honestly, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses someone he loves. You or his sister. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses one of you. 

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

TAGLIST (please fill up this form if you wish to be added or removed)

@jasmyluv @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @raideneiari @zushikiss @aravensquill @ajaxstar @tanuki-s @flutterawayx @eoues @yhreah @dojis @alatusprinz @crystalcrys @eunchaeluvr @inquiryofjades @enpopcandy @his-simp @moronsoyeon @frozenangelheart @inufinuf @kunisbeloved @ieathairs @patimiet @mooonluv

[writers-hes]

The Blind Man

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, abusive marriage)

They finally meet.

PART 1 / PART 2

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

There was nothing discreet with how you dressed. You were in all black, a black veil shielding you from the onlookers. Simon sent some money to Johnny’s wife, Beth, for a proper wake. His house was filled with white flowers and proper food. It’s the least he could do, that’s what he said. You were sitting beside the widow, trying to console her.

“Johnny used to talk about you alot,” she weeped. “‘That’s my girl! That’s my daughter and she’ll go places!’ That’s what he always said. He told me how you grew up in the brothel and how you were always willing to listen to his lessons in arithmetic.” Her eyes were red from crying and all you could do was console her. “Thank you for taking care of him…for taking care of us,”

“It’s nothing, Beth,” you assured her. “He let me into his bunker when my mum died,” you recalled. “He protected me from…from…as much as he could, you know?”

God. Just how many people could you lose in this fucking lifetime? First, your father but you’ve never really weeped for him. You never knew him. Second, your mum. She took care of you with how little she had. Third, Tommy. You never heard back if he was alive or not. Your protector. Fourth, Big Johnny. He’s always been the male figure that you considered as your father. Who’s next?

“I’m grateful for him,” you managed to choke out. You asked your security guards to go somewhere else, maybe a few feet or metres from the house. You wanted privacy. “I’m just so regretful to never have seen him and now he’s gone…”

Johnny died because of a rumble with some of the newer gangs in Small Heath. Some young lads mugged him on the way home and killed him. They threw his body by the docks where they thought no one would ever see him.

Your body suddenly fills with rage. Was this the work of the Blinders? Fuck. Why would they fucking do that? Beth excuses herself from you and you nodded. Picking on the rings on your fingers, you didn’t notice who sat beside you. 

“Seems like we only see each other at weddings and funerals,” You gasped, looking at the source of the familiar voice. How could you ever forget? She told you what you needed to do to survive. 

“Polly,” you gasped, extending your shaky hands towards her. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Who would’ve thought, huh?” she asked. She lets you clutch her hand for support. “Where’s Simon?”

“He has business in Camden Town,” you replied. “He allowed me to go but there’s security around us right now. We can’t really talk, Poll—he’s going to, he’s going to—“

“I’ve handled it,” she said. “You can talk to me as freely as you would like, okay?” You nodded. 

“I’m sorry for…for leaving,” you whispered. Your voice wavers and you feel the wetness in your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Darling…”

“He threatened to kill Tommy, Arthur, and John if I didn’t obey,” you confessed. “During the…the war,” You shut your eyes to hide from Polly. Her heart aches. You’ve always been reluctant to show your emotions but you are visibly hiding now. Cowering from the fear of rejection and of humiliation from Polly Gray. “He said that-that he knew people who could finish the job.”

“Don’t hide,” she coos. Your obedience was not in vain but she’d never tell you that. She didn’t want Tommy to act impulsively and she didn’t want you to lose what you already have. “How are you? You don’t need permission from a man, you know,”

“I know,” you nod. “You always told me but…Simon is all I have now. He trusts me and I don’t want to break that trust that I’ve worked so hard on. You told me to take advantage of everything and I am,”

“What have you been doing?”

“I have trusts, bonds, and investments to my name now. Simon couldn’t take them away from me. All sealed with a document that my lawyers reviewed,” you told her. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.

“Johnny and I taught you well then,” she nods in approval. “That’s good. We miss you,”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Where’s Ada? I’ve to thank her for the house,”

“If anything, she has you to thank. She’s been going there a lot since you left. She said she feels more at peace there,” Polly replied. “When are you leaving?”

“After the burial,” you replied. “I have to leave and go to uh, Italy with Simon,”

“For what?”

“Some…business thing.” you replied. 

“He’s showing you the world?” she asked, gesturing to your clothes. You knew it. It was too much for a funeral.

“Yeah. It’s too much isn’t it? I can-I can change into something else but, he likes these clothes,” you told her. “But can I—“

“No, you look good,” she says, stopping you from your worries. “You look like who you’re supposed to be,”

You look like who you’re supposed to be. If it was any other person, you’d be offended; but this was Polly. She always told you that you didn’t belong in Small Heath. “You’re too pure to belong here forever.” She’d always say. It’s funny, you felt like you never belonged in Simon’s world no matter how hard he tried to put you in it. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about Tommy and his brothers. How could you? You were too scared to know the answer. If Polly didn’t mention it, it’s probably for the best.

“I do wish you’d visit us more but I know your circumstances,” she said. “I received the letter from Simon along with a cheque of a few thousand pounds,”

“Did you encash it?” you asked. 

“No,” she replied. Somehow, that gave you comfort. She couldn’t be bought. “I did it because I was so worried about what could happen to you. It didn’t have any details. It just said that he’d appreciate it if we cease all contact. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“No,” you shook your head. Not yet. “As unimaginable as it all is, he has never. I truly believe that he loves me, Pol. He tells me every day. He heeds everything that I say or do and has never had a mistress but I feel so terrible because I don’t love him that way,” you confessed, feeling like the weight of the world just lifted itself on your shoulders. “I’m terrible,”

“You’re not,” Polly said. “I told you to take advantage of everything but I never told you to love him, did I?”

-

You went home that day feeling lighter. You could always confide in Polly whenever you needed. You were just so heartbroken to know that that could probably never happen again. Your servants have left now. You told them that you didn’t need them during the night because of how small the house was. They stayed at a lodging for labourers nearby; except for the guards. They came with you wherever you go, even if it was only at a distance. 

You were putting away the heavy gold earrings in the vanity in your room. It was dark, except for the lamp that you opened by the bed. 

“You should really change your locks,” Your head whipped, earrings falling on the ground. 

“Tommy?” you asked, rushing towards him in your most comfortable clothes. It was a long sleeved pyjama shirt that Simon owned. Tommy didn’t like it. “Oh my God. You’re here,” you breathed, shaky hands touching his arm. “You’re here…you’re here,”

“And you’re here,” he says, his voice void of emotion. He looked for the pressed flowers in the frame that usually sat on your vanity. It was gone. “You left,”

“I didn’t want to,” you said, removing your hands from him when you felt how cold he was.

“Did you plan on coming back? At all?” he asked. His rage blinds him. Why was he so cold and cruel? Why couldn’t he tell you how happy he was to see you again? He didn’t know how to handle his emotions. Years of longing…of heartbreak…of wondering if he could ever be good enough came down on him. 

“Tommy?”

“It’s just a funny thing, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. “You leave, make your way into the world, and then expect things to be the same.”

You frowned. 

“It’s a funny thing. You promised to wait for me and you didn’t,” he spat. “All I ever looked at was your photo in those four years and you—“

“I didn’t want to leave, Tommy,” you whispered. 

“But you did!” he exclaims. “You left me! You…you left me and married someone else. You decided that I could never grant my promises and fucked someone else. Like a…like…”

“Like what, Tommy?” you asked, stepping away from him. “Like a whore?” He’s never thought of you like that before.

“I never said that,”

“But you thought it!” You sit on your bed. “You see me like how everyone sees me. Fuck,” you shook, shielding yourself away from him. “How could you ruin this for us?”

“No, I’m—“

“Then, what? What is it, Tommy? You come in here to my house and pick a fight. You can’t blame me for the choices that I made! I had no idea if you were coming back. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me,” he demanded. “I told you to wait for me. I’ve been building us everything that we ever wanted but you were just so impatient,”

“How could I if you never wrote back?”

You looked up at him through teary eyes. You finally gave him the chance to look at you. You looked older, despite the garb that you were wearing. The sparkle was gone. You looked up at him. He’s different. Detached, cold, and emotionless. The blue eyes that used to convey so much emotion were gone. He wasn’t letting you in like he used to. 

You both changed.

A shimmer on your neck catches his attention. It was his mother’s locket. You catch his eyes casting down on it. 

“I forgot,” you croaked, looking away. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” He wasn’t your Tommy anymore.

“No, you should keep it,”

“It’s okay,” you nod, removing the locket from your person and putting it on the bed. It was the first time you’ve ever removed it and it felt like you were removing a leash. “You own it. You should give it to someone else. Someone that’s…that’s not me,”

“Y/N…love,” he tried but you shook his head. “It always belonged to you.”

“We’re not the same people anymore, Tom. You look at me and-and it’s how everyone else does,” you cried. “Like a whore. I’m selling my body and my future for a life like this. Right? I don’t want to have this anymore,” you said. “We grew apart and we’re older now. We’re not the same people,” You don’t love me anymore.

There was hell and there was a place below hell. It was where he was. How could he be so cruel to make you cry? How could he insinuate that you were all the same? How could you hint that he doesn’t love you anymore?

“I waited for you, Tommy. Waited for you to write back and at first, I felt…sad. Then, angry. You think I’m so disposable. So replaceable, right?” you asked. “I sent you letters every week. You always told me you’d protect me but you couldn’t even send me a letter telling me that you were alright. You couldn’t even protect Johnny!”

Maybe if he told you that it was Polly who intercepted those letters, you wouldn’t be so mad at him. Maybe you wouldn’t think that he’d abandon you so easily. Maybe you’d know that you were the only face that got him out of the tunnels. Maybe you’d know that it was your name that made him feel good. Like your name was some prayer he’s worthy enough to say every time that he felt like he was underground again. But how could he hurt you more than he already did?

“You were the one who replaced me,” Maybe you’d finally know that he loves you and that, if you could have just waited a little bit longer, you’d never have to worry if your hair was out of place.

“There was nothing to replace.”

-

Tommy brews in anger. To Polly, to you, and to himself. He couldn’t tell you that Polly intercepted your letters. He didn’t want to cut your relationship with her too. 

“Fuck!” he roared. The barmaid comes in and asks Tommy if he was okay. He shrugs her off but seems intent on staying.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” she asked. He leans back, uninterested. 

“Sure,”

“Happy or sad?” she asked. 

“Uh, sad,” 

“It’ll break your heart,” she says, smiling softly.

“Already broken,” he muttered. Already broken. 

He sits there, unmoving. To be honest, he didn’t know why he was so mad at you. He was truly, utterly, and irrevocably alone now that you were gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being alone. He prefered it sometimes. Maybe it’s because he always expected for the two of you to be alone together. Like you always were. 

The fear of being unknown to you scares him. You’ve always known him—his whole heart and his whole soul. You’ve always known him but now, you’re gone. You’ll never know him the way you knew him. You were too different now and it rips through him like nothing else. You’ll never be there for him like you did. He’ll never know you like he did once. He could never pinpoint it but he hates how he was never enough for you. If only he could provide, if he could only protect, if only…

Here he thought he’d finally have a wink of sleep after four years. 

-

You were on the phone with your husband after Tommy stormed out in anger last night. You needed to be comforted, to be told that you were right and that everyone else was wrong. It was one of the few luxuries you allowed yourself when you were with Tommy but you were positive that you’ve lost him now.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can always come down there, you know,”

“I know,” you nodded. “I just miss you,” 

“You do?” You could tell that that inflated his ego. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too,”

“Do you think…do you think you can be here for the funeral?” you asked before you could even stop yourself. Why were you bringing him here when Tommy was around? Were you bringing him here out of spite? To make Tommy what? Jealous? But then again, was it a sin to ask for comfort from your husband? Tommy would never understand. He was quick to tell you what he thought of you yesterday. It was the first time he did it but you couldn’t get it out of your head. If to him, you were a whore, then a whore you’d be. 

It was the only thing you were good at anyway. 

“Of course,” he nodded. “This thing with Solomons is just shit work anyway. I’ll be there the day before. Will that be alright?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. Are you really willing to let him inside the fort you’ve built with Tommy? “I lost my mom’s locket today and I…” 

“You did?” he asked. He knew how important that locket was to you. You begged him to not take it off during your wedding. If only he knew. He bought you jewels but you never wore another necklace. “We can get you another one. Something that’s even more beautiful than the one you had.”

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “I love you,” 

“I love you too.”

And you weren’t sure if you were still lying. 

-

Simon arrives at your house sometime in the morning, before the sun rises. It was his first time seeing your house—being in your house. It was a small, shabby home with flowers. Have you always liked flowers? One of the servants opened the door for him and he entered. Poor you. Did you always live like this? 

He spots you reading a book on the couch when you look up at him.

“How was your trip?” You close the book and sit upright. “I hope it wasn’t horrible,”

“I’m here now,” he sits down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ve been on my mind since you left. Is there anything I have to know?”

“I…I talked to Polly,” you confessed. The grip that he has on your waist tightens. “But we only talked about Johnny. She said that the police aren’t doing anything to know who killed him.”

“I see,” 

“But I left after that. I’ve never seen her since,” you said truthfully. “I told her that we couldn’t meet again,”

“Thank you for not breaking my trust,” he said, removing his grip on you. “You know it’s for us, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you nodded. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why were you understanding him more? Are you only agreeing with Simon because you hated Tommy at that moment? What’s the sudden change? 

You were all gathered at Johnny's funeral. Simon was beside you, holding your waist protectively. Beth was a wailing mess by the coffin. They were putting him six feet under. Last night was the last time she’ll ever see Johnny’s physical body again. You were bowing your head down, trying to keep your tears away. Johnny had been the father figure and now, he’s gone too. 

The ceremony ends soon enough with Simon never letting go of your body. The Shelbys have noticed. Simon was basically hounding you so you wouldn’t have to talk to others. 

“I sometimes wonder if she stopped talking to us because she wanted to or if she was forced to,” Arthur said, looking at you and your husband. Ada was looking at Polly. They were the only ones who knew. They both agreed to never tell a soul because of how messy things could be. Tommy would wage a war if it concerned you. “The question is why is she letting him?”

Tommy walks to where you were. He clears his throat to make himself known. He watches your figure become rigid. Simon was looking at him, his hand still on your waist. If he could shoot this prick’s hand for even laying a hand on you—

“I’m Tommy Shelby,” he starts. “I just decided to come by and offer a quick greeting to your wife.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” Simon replied, his voice was strained and you were scared. Terrified. “Y/N didn’t tell me about you. Have you, darling?” There was a threat in his voice.

“Oh,” you nod, licking your lips. Your voice was wavering. “Mr. Shelby i-is someone I knew when I was a child, darling. He left for the war and…and…”

“We haven’t seen each other since,” he finishes.  “I wish we could talk more,” Tommy added, confirming what he already thought. He didn’t spare you a glance and if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. “Mr. Coventry. Y/N,” he bowed, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles. He walks away, leaving Simon’s anger and your anxiety behind him. 

Simon didn’t speak to you on the way back. You tried but he only dismissed you with a cold shoulder. When you arrived home, he dragged you by the arm to the living room. You watched while the servants dispersed to give you some privacy. It was funny how they always pretended that they knew nothing.

“Do you really think I’m fucking stupid?” he roared, his loud voice vibrating the walls of your home. “You talked to Polly Gray but didn’t meet Tommy. At all,”

“You have to believe me, Simon. I never…it’s my first time seeing him again!” you pleaded, scared for Tommy’s life—scared for yours. Your arm hurts but you have bigger problems right now. What was a little bruise anyway? “I didn’t even know if he was still alive,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked. “It’s like everything that you’re saying are…are lies! I gave you everything,” he spits. “I gave you and your friends money. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that fucking brothel fucking some twat who could never afford everything that I’m giving you. Is that what you want? Do you want to go back there?”

“Simon,” you tried. “I swear, I didn’t know he was still alive. Polly never told me. I—“

“Liar!” he says, stepping closer to you. He grasps your chin tightly, your head unmoving at the pressure. “I bought you. Don’t you dare fucking disrespect me. I own you,” 

“Simon, please…” you cried. “I swear to you I didn’t…”

“Shut up,” he spits. “You’re fucking disgusting,”

He shoves you to the floor and you cry. He leaves without looking at you. He didn’t apologise for what he did. It was the first time he showed you what you were to him. A property. You didn’t sleep that night; you were just on the balcony, looking at the docks, wondering what would’ve happened if you had just waited. 

-

The morning comes and you are tired. Simon just woke up and decided to stay with you on the balcony. 

“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for doing that. I promise to never do that again. I was just…so angry because Tommy Shelby came to us. Do you see why you’re not allowed to be here? Why I hate it when you’re in Birmingham? These fucking rats have no respect,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Simon, you said things,” you whispered, looking up at him. Tears stained your cheeks. Everything that he said replayed inside your head over and over.  What right did you have to demand his apology if he owned you? “You…”

Defeated, Simon sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know that I’m doing this for us. I’m sorry,”

You could only nod wordlessly, blinking away the tears before they fall again. You didn’t notice the bruising on your jaw yet. You weren’t at the brothel anymore but up to what extent are you truly free? At the end of the day, you’re still weak. You still have nothing. At the end of the day, buttering him up doesn’t matter.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1912

“One day, we’ll be able to buy those fancy, black cars and drive around London as much as we want.” Tommy said. He was in his work clothes, a greasy white shirt and his shaggy hair falling in different sorts of places. 

“We will?”

“Yes,” he nodded, his shoulder touching yours. You were just about to work when he pulled you away. He asked if you wanted to come with him to The Cut for a little while and you agreed, finding it hard to say no to him. “I’ll get you one and then, I’ll get you a horse.” 

“Don’t forget the house with a big lawn,” you giggled. 

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I’ll buy that first,”

“Would you hate me if things don’t work out the way we want them to?” you asked. “I’m just wondering,”

“Why wouldn’t it? We’re staying together,” Tommy said, casting you a confused look. 

“I mean, you’ll get a wife. I can’t live in the same house as her,” you said. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary problems for the two of you. I want her to be my friend too.”

“I’m not marrying,” he said. “Why should I marry? We come as a pair. Never one without the other. We won’t need anyone else,”

“That would be nice.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re always my main priority. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that yet. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine,”

“And if I’m not?”

“I won’t,”

“How are you going to do all this?” you asked. You always believed in Tommy.

“I’ll do everything,” 

“You’re a man of ambition, Tommy. Did you know that you can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous?”

He ponders. He’ll deal all of his cards and fold if it came to you.

There were a million things you wanted to tell him at that moment. He does, too. He looks at you so…lovingly and so naturally that it doesn’t seem like anything anymore. Tommy really didn’t fear anything, except when it came to you. He’s scared to tell you the truth because he might change the course of things. He’s scared to never fulfil all of his promises to you. He’s scared that he’ll never amount to anything other than a greasy boy that you took care of. 

He doesn’t say any of this, though, so he just smokes slow. 

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“I have to do something about it,” Tommy told his brothers, taking a swig of his Irish whiskey. He was composed but his mind was running at a speed that he couldn’t quite catch up on. Were you happy in your marriage?

“Tom, it’s better if you could just let her go,” Arthur replied. “It’s not my place, hm? But we saw them yesterday. Maybe it’s for the best,”

“It’s not,” Stoic as ever, he looked ahead. 

“It’s a bad idea…” his older brother tried. “You’re fighting against a king. You’re not—“

“Why is everyone telling me that I can’t do anything? Why?” he asked. “I hardly recall asking for your permission, Arthur. You and Polly have been telling me what I can and can’t do.” 

“Tommy, think about it. With the fucking guns and taking on this whole…thing with her. It’s too big. So, just let it go, eh? You’ll get yourself killed,” John added. He knew of Tommy’s affections for you. Hell, he knew what Tommy meant. John discreetly watched you and your husband. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, you couldn’t speak freely without a stutter. It was so different from the Y/N that he used to know but Tommy couldn’t be persuaded. He was living on the edge of life in the war that it didn’t matter to him if he died or not. He’s free from the fear of death; he could do whatever he wanted. 

“I’m a man of ambition. You can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous,”

-

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Tommy feels like the world was caving in. Fuck. He always hated sleeping, no matter how much he craved it. The darkness of his room and his closed eyes reminds him of the darkness of the tunnels. The walls and the tightness of the closed spaces; the unknown waiting on the other side. The lives he lost, the blood that his comrades spilled. He sits up, he hates how he couldn’t sleep because he’s always hearing the gunshots and the bombs in France. He hates being weak. Things were never the same and he so desperately wanted it to be. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. He couldn’t see the faint lamp that burned on his bedside table. The ringing in his ears doesn’t subside. It was just fucking dark. 

He looks over his bedside table and reaches for your picture. You always seemed to calm him no matter where he went. No matter what he does, you always seem to ground him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, taking a swig of his whiskey. As if that would just conjure you. He was sometimes convinced that your picture was an apparition of the time when everything was quieter. When his world had no guns and bombs. When you two were together. He frowns, taking his head in between his hands and cries. 

If only he was stronger. If only he was rich. If only he could fulfil all of the promises he gave you. If only.

-

If there was anything he regretted, it was how angry he was when he went to your old house for your first meeting. He’s been waiting to be graced by your smile for years but he couldn’t control the anger that brewed inside him. He was so guarded after the war. But those guards seem to crumble around you, leaving him defenceless and vulnerable like a child. 

A knock on his door arouses him. It was currently just before the sunrise; that hazy blue period that calms him before everyone else wakes. He checked from his window outside but there was nothing. Another knock comes and he sighs, going downstairs to check. He puts his gun behind him. He opens the door and it reveals you.

You were shaking like a leaf when his eyes landed on your figure. 

“I don’t know…where else to…to go,” you whispered. He goes out and looks around to make sure that no one’s there. When the coast is clear, he takes your hand and guides you to the living room. He was hoping that no one heard anything.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. 

“Just…water, please,” 

“Did you walk all the way?” 

“Yeah,” he hears you say while he pours you a glass. “Sorry for disturbing you,” 

“It’s alright,” he tells you, giving you the glass. 

“Yeah,” you replied, drinking the water to avoid any sort of communication with your old friend. “Tommy?”

“Hm?” he asked, sitting in front of you and it’s so different it hurts. He used to sit beside you, knee to knee. He had to blink multiple times to clear his vision—to make sure that you were actually there. “What brings you here?”

“I…I…” you couldn’t say a single word before you broke into tears. It was then when Tommy actually looked at you, the bruising on your chin, your defeated stance. He trembles in anger but forces himself to let it subside and comfort you. “S-sorry,”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, love,” he whispers, sitting beside you this time and rubbing circles on your back. “You don’t have to talk about it,”

“Would you still…would you still protect me?” you asked and you were aware of how selfish you sounded. “You’re right. I’m a-a whore,” you chuckled, looking away from him. “I know I’m being unfair…marrying Simon and then coming here…”

It appals him for you to think that he’ll ever stop protecting you. It disturbs him for letting you think that way because of one argument. 

Your chin was quivering as you tried to form a coherent sentence. 

“I thought…I thought I was free but he laid a hand on me,” you tried. “Gripped my chin and called me his property,”

You told yourself that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault. 

“All because you talked to me during the funeral,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from the emotions that linger. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that you loved him. 

“Let’s run away,” It’s all his fault. All his fault that he loved you. 

“Tommy…” you whispered, shaking your head. “Did you know…did you know why I stopped talking to you?” you asked him. He didn’t. Maybe the reason why he’s so angry with you was because he didn’t know. “When you were in France, he told me that if I continue any form of communication with the Shelbys…he’ll locate you and your brothers and have the three of you killed.” You reveal to him. “You always said you’ll protect me but I wanted to protect you too.”

Your broken voice was something that he’ll never forget. Your fragile figure was something that he’ll never remove from his brain. You were…miserable. How could you let yourself be miserable for his sake? How could Simon let you cry? How could he break you? You were so strong, the strongest he’s ever known.

“I will kill him,” 

“Tommy, no,” you whimpered. “I’m here to tell you that…that the best way to protect me is to forget about me,”

“You can’t do that to me,” Tommy replied, his voice stern. He was trying so, so hard. “Not when I waited to come home for four years.”

“It’s the best way,” you pleaded. “You can go start a family or…or do something else but if you really want to protect me, you’ll forget about me,” 

You were so defeated, your figure curled to your heart like you were protecting yourself from everyone. Tommy could see the stutter of your body while you tried to control everything.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he tried, blinking the tears away but failing. His resolve was crumbling; popping the joints on his knuckles to ground him. It was then he noticed your nail beds, peeled and crusted with dried blood. You must have been thinking about it for so long. “You’re not giving me a choice here, love,” You must have been hurting.

“He’ll kill you, Tom. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I am the reason why your body’s thrown at The Cut.” you told him. “I let you go once without knowing for sure that you’ll come back alive. I’ll make sure that this time, you are.”

“So that’s it, eh?” he asked. “Your bastard husband threatens my life and you let him control you.” he licks his lips.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” you told him. “That's all I could do. You’re a man…you could have the world. I’m a woman and I can’t have anything unless I make it. This is me making it.” This is me making sure that I’ll never have to think about you. 

You left in the wee hours of the morning and Tommy lets you go without a fight. He thought that he was the one doing the protecting, when you’ve been protecting him all along. You were his most tender wound. Battle scars from France don't compare to the pain he’s feeling in the darkness of the house. Should he run after you? Should he heed your advice? What if he kills Simon? Will you be free then?

“Her husband’s dealing with Alfie Solomons,” he tells everyone during a family meeting. “I’ll deal with Solomons myself,”

“You’re waging a war that is bigger than all of us, Tommy,” Arthur said.

“I’m not asking for approval,” he only replied, his voice was monotonous; suppressing his emotions as much as he could. He swallows. “Information about Y/N’s home life has reached me. She told me that the best way to protect her is to forget about her.” He confessed.

“Well, shit,” Ada replied. “Surely…”

“Surely, I won’t.” he said, voice stern and determined. “I’ll deal all of my cards if I have to. Do you get that?”

“Tommy, it’s a bad idea. She’s right. With the fucking inspector on our throats and Simon Coventry…you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have decided,”

“Then, what’s all of this for, then?”

“Just letting you know.” he says, looking at everyone’s face of disapproval. 

When he exits the Garrison, Polly runs after him. She was determined to let him let you go for your safety. It was a sticky situation that Tommy was putting himself in. A semblance of power doesn’t mean that he’s powerful but he couldn’t seem to understand that. 

“Tommy, do you want to save her because you want to or is it because you have to prove yourself to you?” she asked him, grasping his arm. 

“Polly—“

“Do you love her because you do or do you only think you do because you need her? It’s alright to let her go, Tom. You have to realise that maybe she’s correct,” she reasoned. “The more you move, the more she’s constricted—“ 

“You took her away from me, Polly,” he spits. “How can I not love her when I need her beside me to even get a wink of sleep? Her picture was all I looked at in France. She is the reason why I’m alive—why I’m here. You took her away from me and I am taking her back. Does that look like love to you?” he demanded, shaking her arm away. 

“You want to know what blinds a man as smart as you, Tom? Love,” she says. “You’re making things—“

“So I am blind,” he shrugs. “I vowed to protect her and that is a vow that I’ll take to the grave with me, Pol. You could help or not. It wouldn’t matter either way but you owe it to me to try. At least,” 

A beat passes, Polly doesn’t speak. He nods to excuse himself, walking away as the blind man.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m so glad you’re still here.

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it!

PART 4

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash

[dambaepuff]

LIKE OR LIKE LIKE

☆Pairing: Roomate!Jeongguk x GN!Reader

☆Genre: Non!Idol AU, light angst, fluff, smut, one-shot

☆Warnings: swear words, Sub!JK, Dom!Reader, making out, hand job, fingering (m receiving)

☆Word count: 3k

☆Summary: After Jeongguk’s Valentines date bailed on him, he came home defeated and upset. In your attempt to comfort him things get heated.

☆A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this valentines special!! This is my first time writing smut sooo I’m not sure how great it turned out. Once again, I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

You sat down onto your couch with a huff, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Almost every single channel had a a romance movie playing, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You turned on a streaming service, your irritation only growing when the front page recommended romance shows and movies. Jeongguk, your roommate and crush of three years was out on a date with some girl currently. You were never one to really care about Valentine’s Day, but knowing someone else was sneaking their way into his heart whilst you spent the evening home alone made you despise the holiday’s existence. Typing the title of a movie you’d been meaning to watch for ages now into the search bar, you turned it on and let yourself relaxed into the couch cushions. A couple of minutes in, you heard the door of your apartment unlock.

Craning your neck towards the sound you watched as Jeongguk walked in, the bouquet you had helped him pick out earlier that day loosely gripped in his hand. He sluggishly took off his shoes and jacked, dropping the assortment of flowers onto your kitchen counter. “How’d the date go?” You asked, looking up at him from your seat. “It didn’t go.” He answered in a flat tone. “What?” You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his cryptic answer. “She didn’t show up. Only sent a text like half an hour after we were supposed to meet saying she forgot and made other plans.” He explained as he sat down next to you, looking defeated and tired. A deep frown formed on your lips, feeling sympathetic towards your roommate. You put a hand onto his shoulder, hoping to bring him some form of comfort. “Should we watch cheesy movies and order takeout? We can be alone and date-less together then.” You suggested, trying to cheer him up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sniffled lightly and fully let himself lean back into the couch. Now that his face was closer to yours you realized his eyes were glossy and red, his nose tinted a light pink as if he had been continuously wiping it. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?” You asked, your eyebrows being pulled together by worry. “Well, it’s not really like I wanted to go on that date with her so badly it’s just that,” he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “-it made me feel so… so shit. You know? Like I,” He pursed his lips together, trying his hardest to not let tears escape his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess, it’s affecting my self esteem? I felt like,” He couldn’t keep his tears anymore. The dams broke, tear droplets freely falling off his long lashes now. “I felt like…” A quiet sob stopped him from finishing his sentence. Your hands came up to grab his, running your thumbs over his knuckles in hopes of calming him down. “I felt like a fucking loser!” He finally managed to get out, your heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Hatred filled his dark irises, but not towards his date who bailed, but rather at himself. You pulled him into an embrace, unable to muster up words to console him. He gladly leaned in, gripping your shirt and crying into your chest. You let his warm tears soak through the cloth, not caring about anything other than giving him the comfort he needed so desperately. One of your hands softly stroked through his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. After giving him a moment to cry his heart out you started to quietly mumble reassurances into his ear. “Jeongguk you’re so handsome and kind, maybe it’s for the best she showed her true colors so early on. You deserve so much better. Someone who can give you the respect and love you deserve, someone who will be there for you when no one else is.” You placed a fleeting peck onto the crown of his head, causing him to snuggle further into your chest. The two of you cuddled till he calmed down, letting comfortable silence consume you.

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered against you, the sound coming out muffled. “Hm, about what?” You asked, your hand that had stilled resuming the mindless movement on his back. “Finding someone who’s right for me is so hard,” he said, lifting his head up to look at you. “especially when they’re right in front of me.” He finished his sentence. “Right in front of you?” You tilted your head in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. He tentatively leaned up closer to you, stopping a couple of centimeters away from your face. “Can I do something?” He asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of your face. You only gave a small nod, your heart rate beginning to pick up. His gaze dropped down to your lips, slowly he leaned in closer again, placing his soft lips onto yours. It only lasted a short moment, the kiss being a mere peck, but it made a million butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest, the circulation making your skin heat up.

“Hm, maybe try it again. For good measure.” You whispered feeling bold. The corner of his lip quirked up, he hummed in agreement and closed the gap between you again. This time the kiss lasted longer, his hand snuck up to cup the side of your face as he moved his lips against yours. He began to be more sloppy, opening his mouth more against yours and letting your saliva mix. You gladly let it happen, trying to slip your tongue past his lips. He got the memo and let it slide in, quietly moaning as his tongue pushed against yours. He disconnected your lips to get some air, climbing onto you and straddling your lap. Your hands instinctively went to hold his hips making him put his arms around your neck and resume making out with you. Groaning against his lips the kisses became more messy, teeth and tongues clashing in desperation. He ground his hips down onto yours, searching for friction to aid his hardening cock.

You started trailing kisses down the side of his face, stopping at his jaw to lightly nibble at the soft flesh. He huffed and tangled his fingers into yours hair, giving it a light tug. You continued to place messy kisses down his neck, bitting and sucking at his skin. In response he moaned, more loudly this time. Taking it as a sign to keep going you carried on with bruising his neck. His hips started to speed up, the grinding turning into humping. One of your hands snaked to his lower stomach, slipping it under his shirt and playing with the waistband of his pants. You slid your thumb inside it, gently stroking the flesh right above his cock. He softly whined into your ear, gripping your wrist to try guiding your hand where he needed it most. “Eager now, are we?” You teased and switched your kisses to pecks. “Please, I want you to touch me.” He whispered, trying to hump up against your hand. Deciding to be merciful, you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled out his erect dick. He moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, biting down onto his lip in anticipation. You pulled away from his neck to get a good look at face. Whilst maintaining eye contact you let go of his cock, bringing your hand up you spat into your palm. He only watched you with hooded eyes, shivering at what was to come. Slowly you lathered up his dick, leisurely starting to twist your wrist around it. He lightly thrusted up into your hand, having to keep himself restrained from snapping his hips up like an animal in heat, but to no avail, he couldn’t help himself.

You barely even had to move your hand, he did most of the work by fucking up into it like a hormonal teenager who had never felt intimacy before. Your knuckles would occasionally skim against his lower stomach, making him shudder from the ticklish feeling on his sensitive skin. He whined out your name, his voice cracking as he pathetically rutted up into your fist. In the meantime, your other hand had gotten busy with kneading the flesh of his ass. You had been eyeing the supple flesh since you first met the man, always secretly wondering what kind of noises he’d make as your fingers filled him up to the rim. Gathering up the courage, you decided to ask him if you could finger his ass. “Jeongguk,” You quietly said, trying to get his attention. “Yes?” He replied breathily, slowing his thrusts down. “Can I finger you?” You asked looking up at him. “Fuck.” He felt his balls tense up as his empty hole clenched, the mere question almost making him cum. “Yes. Fuck, please do.” He huskily replied, his hips coming to a stop. “Take your pants off pretty boy.” You instructed as you tapped his hip, signaling for him to get off of you. He obediently came off and started taking off his pants together with his boxers. You got up from the couch and started walking to your room. “I need to go fetch some lube real quick. You can lose the shirt too.” You cheekily winked at him and looked him up and down. The tips of his ears reddened and he nodded dumbly at you.

Pulling your nightstand drawer open, you dug around the cluster or objects in search for the lubricant. Once you found it you quickly made your way back to the living room. On the couch laid Jeongguk in all his glory. Sprawled out with his legs wide open for you, completely naked and ready for you to destroy him. You knelt down between his legs pecking his knee and starting to litter kisses down towards his inner thigh. He shuddered, the chilly air of the living room and the feeling of your lips against his skin too much for him to bare. He lightly arched his back, his nipples hardening from the cold. You massaged his outer thigh as you popped the lid of the lube open with your thumb. “You ready?” You asked to which he hummed in reply. Raising an eyebrow at him you awaited a verbal answer, which he quickly scrambled to give. “Y-yes!” He stammered out. “Good.” You simply replied and started to apply the clear substance onto two of your fingers. “Relax, I can’t do anything if you’re tense.“ You said as you leaned down to give him a tender kiss. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his muscles with an exhale.

Your fingers lightly grazed his rim, testing the waters of his sensitivity. “S’cold.” He mumbled against your lips. “I know baby.” You replied an continued kissing him. Softly you pushed your middle finger against his hole, slowly easing in the tip of your finger. Seeing no signs of discomfort you continued pushing in till you hit the base of your knuckles. He sighed into your mouth, his hand coming up to rest on your bicep. “It it okay? Can I move it?” You questioned. “Mhm! S’okay.” He drowsily replied. You began to move your finger slowly, pumping it in and out of him. Jeongguk squirmed underneath you, letting out soft pants and gasps at the new sensation. Wiggling your finger around inside him, you deemed him ready enough to add another digit. “I’ll add another, okay?” You said as you slid your hand down his chest and towards his stomach. “Yes!” He replied breathlessly. Sliding the finger that was already inside of him almost all the way out, you probed at his entrance gently with the one next to it. They both went in with relative easy, making Jeongguk’s breathing become even more shallow once your knuckles reached the skin of his ass. You started pumping again, the lubricant making squelching noises. Once you were sure he was used to your fingers, you moved the hand which was resting on his stomach to take a hold of his neglected cock. The moan he let out the moment you touched his dick was like music to your ears, making you feel your own arousal grow.

You laid down onto the couch so your head was between his legs now. Nosing at his inner thigh you started to kiss and bite the skin. You trailed the kisses further down, stopping right in front of his cock. You looked up at him, admiring how his abdominal muscles would twitch when you pressed down especially deep inside of him. His head was thrown back, his Adams’s apple bobbing as he desperately tried to swallow down the excess spit forming in his mouth from his continuous moaning. You watched his face closely as you stopped jerking him off, waiting for him to look down at you so he can see you take his cock into your mouth. Just as you expected, he rolled his head, letting it drop forward as he stared down at you. “Why’d you sto-ah!” His question was cut off by his own moan the moment you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He threw his head back again, his hips lifting off of the couch against his will. You wrapped your lips against his tip, lightly sucking whilst your hand jerked him off, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock and lightly bobbing your head. Purposely you drooled onto his cock, watching as the saliva slid down to his balls. With one last lick to his tip, you made your way downwards and began to lick and suck at his balls. He kept on bucking up into you, chasing his high with fervor. “Ah! I think I’m gonna- I think I’m gonna…” He panted, trying to let you know about his approaching orgasm through his whines of pleasure.

You took his cock back into your mouth, moving your head up and down the length in the same rhythm as the fingers which you were still pumping inside of him. With one last drawn out moan his hips spasmed and he came into your throat. The pleasure of his orgasm jolted through his entire body, leaving him shaking and whining at the overwhelming sensation. He lightly pushed you away when he came down from his high, his form going limp underneath you. You swallowed down every drop of cum he had to offer, pulling away from his cock with a wet pop. You sat up onto your knees, looking down at him you admired your work, enjoying seeing him become such a mess for you. You quickly fetched a towel to clean him up and brought him a glass of water which he eagerly gulped down. The moment you laid down next to him, he climbed onto you and snuggled into your chest. “I didn’t do anything for you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled looking up at you. “Nonsense, I’m just happy I could help fix your mood.” You responded and soon the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“You ever smoked cigarettes after having sex?” You ask out of the blue. Jeongguk looks up at you in confusion, letting out a short giggle. “What? Like the band?” He asks, his doe eyes staring up at you. “Yeah, like the band.” You softly smile down at him, moving his bangs away from his forehead. “You wanna go have a cigarette and listen to them?” Your smile spread wider as you proposed the idea. “That sounds kind of nice actually.” He replied and lifted himself off of your chest to sit up. You helped him get dressed and grabbed your cigarettes and both of your jackets before making your way out onto the balcony with him. You put Cigarettes After Sex on shuffle and pull out a cigarette for each of you. Placing one of them into Jeongguk’s mouth you took a lighter out of your pocket. Your thumb slides across the spark wheel twice before you successfully light a flame. The two of you maintained eye contact while you lifted it up to his cigarette, watching him inhale the smoke. You light your own and melted into your seat, enjoying the quiet music playing in the background.

Jeongguk’s eyes remain transfixed on your side profile as you look out towards the distance, completely lost in thought. “Hey, Uhm (Y/N)?” He says before taking another drag of smoke to which you hum in response. “What are we?” The question echoes through your mind, makes a small lump form in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know.” You reply simply, not wanting to look at him in fear that he’d say he only wanted to be friends. After all this time of longing for him and watching him go on those stupid dates, you couldn’t handle being friend-zoned, especially subsequently to finally getting a taste of him. “Whatever you want I guess.” You add on, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. In the corner of your eye you can see his form slightly deflate. “Would you… not want to be with me?” He asked in a meek tone, turning his head toward the opposite direction. Seeing this as your chance to finally tell him how you feel, you let your tongue loose. “I would. Any day in any universe I would. I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met if I’m being honest, I guess I’ve just,” you paused, taking a moment to choose your next words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a fucking moron Jeon Jeongguk. I mean seriously what would make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you? I’ve been way too obvious, I thought you knew I liked you.” The words pour out of you before you can stop them, leaving both of you a bit surprised. “Do you just like me or do you like like me?” He questioned, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Are we in middle school or something?” You grinned at him, teasing his choice of words. “I like like you Jeongguk.”

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Travis Kelce: “I’m tired of always fighting!”

Travis knew tired. There wasn't a day where he didn't come home from practice sore and worse for wear, but eleven years into his career, he had come to love the feeling.

Lately, it felt a lot different. This exhaustion was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was the kind that sunk into your bones and settled there, each muscle aching, his head pounding, a sense of dread in his heart. It had nothing to do with football, and everything to do with the fact that lately, he felt you slipping away with each passing day.

It started off small, a few disagreements here and there, but you always seemed to work it out. Both of you were incredibly headstrong and didn’t know how to back down from a fight, but the love you had for each other always outweighed the need to win. Slowly but surely, the fights became bigger, and the moments of silence became days of silence as the two of you couldn’t find things to say to each other that didn’t start an argument. It didn’t even matter what the fights were about, they were unimportant compared to the fact that your marriage wasn’t working out and no amount of groveling, kicking, and screaming was going to change that.

For the third time this week, he was sleeping in the guest bedroom. It felt unfamiliar and cold, the empty space where you would lay a blaring reminder of your relationship, or lack thereof. Still, he felt that wave of fatigue wash over him, his eyelids heavy as he started to drift off to sleep.

His breath had just started to find a steady rhythm when he heard a large thud across the hall. His eyes shot open as he listened again, hearing a much larger crash that he was sure was coming from your shared bedroom. He followed the path of light teeming from the crack left open at the door.

You were in the closet tearing down any hanger you could get your hands on, piles of clothing laid out on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Travis’ gruff voice startled you, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t want him to see the tear stains running down your cheeks. “Organizing the closet”, you finally uttered out, biting at your bottom lip to stop another crying spell.

“Baby, its 2am. Go back to bed.” You felt his heavy footsteps behind you, so you stepped forward, creating more distance between the two of you. “I’m not tired.” You let out a quiet sigh, but Travis could see your ribcage expand and contract with a shake. “Sorry I woke you.” You went back to the task at hand, pulling all of your coats off their hangers and tossing them to the ground.

“Babe-“

“Just stop, stop calling me that”, you bit out. “Just go back to bed. I’ll try to be quieter.” You quickly wiped the tear that fell from your eye. The pet name used to make your heart swell, but now it just felt condescending. Travis let out a sharp breath before turning out of the room. He made it a couple of steps before he realized that he was doing what he always did- walking away in the name of avoiding conflict, but so far, the only thing it did was make things more difficult. You were still in the same spot when he returned. He watched your shoulders shake as you quietly sobbed, a lump building in his throat.

“Y/N, just stop. We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” You tossed a pile across the room. “Talk about how we can’t stand the sight of each other? How we can’t speak to each other without fighting? I’m tired of always fighting! I’ve had enough, Travis.” Your arms felt heavy like lead, but still you pushed on.

“Y/N, stop!” Travis’ booming voiced echoed in the now empty room. You did as he said, stopping in your tracks, but only for a second. “I can’t stop. I need to keep moving, keep busy, so I can stop thinking about how fuckin’ difficult this has been for one fuckin’ second, okay?”

“Babe, C’mere.”

You couldn’t explain how badly you wanted to run to him, but your feet wouldn’t move. The only thing you seemed to be able to do lately was cry, so you let the tears flow freely, tasting the saltiness of your tears as they pooled in the corner of your mouth. “Baby, please, come here.” When you didn’t move, Travis closed the distance between you quickly, wrapping you up in his arms. He felt the wet spots pool on his shirt as you sobbed against his chest, collapsing into his hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m tired of fighting too”, he whispered into your hair, slowly rocking you back and forth.

“I don’t know what to do, Travis”, you admitted when you could finally take in a full breath. “I know, but we’ll figure out a way to fix this. We’ll do counseling, whatever it takes.” He just let you cry, knowing it was what you needed after all this time. When he felt you begin to settle down, he pulled you in for a tighter hug.

“Baby, look at me.” You slowly lifted your head as Travis cupped your cheeks in his large hands. His calloused fingers felt rough against your cheeks as he wiped away the wetness collected in your lashes.

“No matter what happens, I love you so much. That has never and will never change, okay? I will never give up on us.” You shook your head, taking in a shaky breath. He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, before pulling you into his body again, and for the first time, Travis didn’t feel that dread in his heart.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Can you do 11 from the smut list with Logan? (but the reader is the sub)

!! logan weekend requests are now closed !!

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v

11 : tying them down as a punishment

The tears fall from your eyes freely, your legs tremble as Logan smirks at you from between them. He rolls his tongue over your clit, sending into yet another orgasm. You’ve lost count of how many you’ve had so far, you couldn’t really think all that straight after number four.

You cry out and squeeze your legs around his head as your wrists burn from pulling on them. Their tied up to the bedposts above your head with a scarf, something that you wouldn’t think would irritate them all that much, but apparently after being pulled on for the better part of an hour, still starts to hurt.

“Logan, I- I can’t-” You gasp as he softly presses his pointer finger to your clit.

“You can’t?” He scoffs. “I thought you wanted this?” He taunts you as he runs his fingers over your folds.

He’s telling the truth, after being gone for a triple header you wanted nothing more than for him to make you cum over and over again. You had wanted it so bad that you had broken his one rule. “Don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.” It was easy enough to follow, at least during the first week. The second was harder, and by the third you thought you were going crazy.

It happened while on a phone call with him. Your hand wandered under your sleep shorts while listening to him talk about his day. You were amazed at the fact that even just his voice could get you worked up.

You tried your best to keep quiet, huffing out quick, short breaths as you fell apart on your fingers.

Logan wasn’t stupid, he could tell what you were doing as soon as you started, but he let you have your fun.

“It’s good to know that my voice can get you off baby.” You hear him say through the phone. You’re too stunned to respond. “You know I’ll have to punish you when I get home, right.”

“Yes Lo.” You tell him, shame washing over you as you look down at your sticky fingers.

He seemed surprisingly normal when he came home. He swept you up in his arms, kissing you, telling you how much he missed you. You help him unpack, then cook some dinner together while he tells you about the races.

You almost think he’s forgotten about your punishment, until he pulls the black scarf from one of his drawers.

“You were a bad girl while I was gone. But I understand. You just wanted to cum, so now I’m going to make you cum over and over and over again.” He says as he ties you to the bed.

Now you feel almost numb, like everything is too much and not enough all at once. His finger curl deep inside you coaxing another orgasm out of you while you cry out his name.

Logan licks his fingers clean as he stands up from the bed. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s finished, but feel your heartbeat pick up as he reaches down to unbuckle his belt.

“I’m not done with you yet baby.” He says as he frees his cock and climbs back on top of you.