#idk i feel like i should react more to things but whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rynwritesreid · 2 months

Note

this is my first time doing a request and your work is probably the best i’ve read since i downloaded tumblr

could you maybe do an angst where spencer and reader are fighting over something she did in the field and he yells at her and raises his hand to run it through his hair but she got scared and flinched, maybe if you want to, have her run out and be gone for the rest of the day

i completely understand if this is way to intense or weird but anywyas tysm, happy women’s day🤍!!

A/N: I am so beyond excited to be your first request. Also I am glad you’re enjoying my writing:) don’t worry it’s not too intense or weird for me, I enjoy (idk if that’s weird or not) writing things like this. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you make more requests in the future my love💕

Summary: after making a mistake, or really a lapse in judgment, you and Spencer get into an argument. During the argument, Spencer’s moves some hair out his face, but this action causes you to flinch.

Content: mentions of DV, please do not read if that could trigger you in anyway. Fem!reader. Angst. Arguments. Fluff. Spencer seems like a bit of an dick, but he is very caring towards the end.

Masterlist|requests are open|navigation

You and Spencer didn’t normally fight, you had disagreements sure, but you both would resolve them pretty quickly. But this time, it was different. You had been, as Spencer had so gracefully put it, reckless.

Hotch had asked you to go check out this person’s apartment, there was no reason for anyone to believe that he was actually dangerous, but Hotch just needed to make sure. You had knocked on the door, told him you were FBI, and there was no reply. You tried the doorknob and found it unlocked.

Pushing the door open cautiously, you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. The air was thick with the smell of musty furniture and old books. As you scanned the living room, something caught your eye - a glint of metal on the coffee table. You approached slowly, heart racing, and discovered a small handgun lying next to a half-empty glass of whiskey.

You were sure no one was around, maybe he had just left it there. But before you could properly react to the situation, a noise from the hallway made you freeze in place. The sound of footsteps was approaching, growing louder with every passing second. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no way out of the apartment without being seen. You quickly scanned the room for a place to hide, your heart pounding in your chest.

But you couldn’t find anywhere, and you didn’t have time to call for backup, or to warn the rest of your team, so you did what you believed anyone would have done in this situation and reach for your gun.

You gripped the handle of your gun tightly, your palm slick with sweat. The footsteps were just outside the room now, getting closer and closer. You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come through that doorway.

As the man entered the room, you found yourself shouting out that you were armed and part of the FBI, and if he was carrying any weapons, he should place them on the ground. He didn’t respond, instead he seemed to laugh.

“They are putting little girls in the FBI now, huh?” The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he looked you up and down, a sneer forming on his face. You tightened your grip on the gun, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. "What's a young thing like you doing here all alone?" he taunted, his voice laced with malice.

You stood your ground, trying to keep your composure despite the fear coursing through your veins. "I'm here on official business," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

His laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down your spine. "Official business, huh?" he mocked. "Well, sweetheart, you don’t look very official.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his words intimidate you. You stood tall, meeting his gaze head-on. "I suggest you cooperate and do as I say," you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

The man's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "Oh, I'll cooperate alright," he sneered as he suddenly lunged towards you. Instinct kicked in as you raised your gun, a warning shot fired into the ceiling.

The loud bang echoed through the apartment, a split second before the man froze in his tracks. He stared at you wide-eyed, realizing you meant business. Without missing a beat, you took advantage of his momentary shock and swiftly moved to restrain him.

With practiced ease, you cuffed, read him his rights and waited for the rest of your team to arrive.

You knew as soon as you saw Spencer’s face that he was angry with you, and you also knew that you were about to get into argument with him.

As the team arrived and the situation was under control, Spencer's eyes bore into yours with a mixture of concern and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. He didn't say a word as he observed the scene, taking in the sight of you standing there, gun still in hand, your expression a mask of determination.

Finally, when the suspect was escorted out of the apartment by law enforcement, Spencer turned to you, his voice low but filled with intensity. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos of the moment. "I had to act fast," you began, but Spencer cut you off with a shake of his head.

"That doesn't excuse recklessness," he stated firmly. "You could have put yourself in danger. What if he had been armed?"

“What is he had been? Well, he wasn’t, and I am alive, I am not injured, so why are you bring what if’s up.”

Spencer's jaw clenched; his frustration palpable as he struggled to find the words to convey the gravity of the situation. "Because you put yourself at risk unnecessarily," he replied, his voice tinged with worry. "We're a team, and we rely on each other to make smart decisions in the field. What you did today was impulsive and dangerous."

“Really? We are a team, and yet no one else is shouting at me. And if anyone should be, it should be Hotch.” you shot back, your tone matching his intensity. "I did what I had to do to ensure the safety of everyone involved. If you can't understand that, then maybe you're the one being reckless by not seeing the bigger picture."

Spencer's gaze hardened at your words; his frustration evident as he struggled to contain his emotions. "This isn't about me not seeing the bigger picture," he retorted, his voice edged with disappointment. "It's about you jeopardizing not only your own safety but the safety of the team as well. We rely on each other to make split-second decisions that won't put us in unnecessary danger."

Your jaw clenched at his words, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within you. "I did what I had to do in the moment," you insisted, your eyes locking with his in a battle of wills. "I stand by my actions, Spencer. Sometimes we have to trust our instincts in the field, even if it means taking risks."

Before Spencer could speak again, he raised his hand to move some hair out his face, however, you flinched and moved back. “I’m, uh, sorry Dr Reid. I won’t do that again.”

Spencer’s expression softened at your reaction, but he also seemed confused. See Spencer Knew about your previous relationship and about almost everything you had endured, but he didn’t know everything. But your sheepish expression, and the tears welling up in your eyes were a good indication that he had done something to spark old memories up.

Spencer's features softened further as he registered the look in your eyes, his concern deepening. He took a step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. "I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary, I didn’t mean to startle you," he said softly, his gaze filled with understanding. "You don't have to explain anything if you're not comfortable."

But before you could answer, your fight or flight response took over, and you just ran away. You knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you couldn’t do anything else. Spencer just stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of why you acted that way. You knew he wasn’t actually going to hit you, and he didn’t realise that him raising his hand like that would cause that type of reaction, but it had happened now.

As you ran through the corridors of the apartment building, your heart pounded in your chest, the echoes of your footsteps mingling with the rush of blood in your ears. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed past doors and down stairwells in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming flood of memories that threatened to consume you.

Spencer's voice called out behind you, filled with concern and confusion. "Wait, please," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up to you. But you couldn't stop, couldn't face him in that moment.

You kept running, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as you pushed yourself to go faster, to put more distance between you and Spencer. This seemed to make him give up on chasing you. He knew you needed some space, but he hated the idea of you been by yourself when you were feeling like that.

When Spencer had returned to the rest of the team, JJ asked where you had gone, and he just responded he didn’t know.

Spencer and the rest of the team had returned to the precinct because they did have a job to do after all, they kept texting you to make sure you were okay. Spencer, however, hadn’t stopped calling you, leaving voicemails saying he was sorry.

You kept your phone on silent, not wanting to be disturbed by the continuous notifications and calls. Each voicemail from Spencer tugged at your heart, his concern evident in every word he spoke. As you sat alone in the quiet of your apartment, the weight of the memories that had resurfaced bore down on you with relentless force.

Spencer had stopped calling you, you were unsure as to why, but you just thought he was giving you some more space. But as night fell and the world outside your window turned dark, a sense of loneliness crept in, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional buzz of your phone as messages from Spencer and the team continued to pile up, unanswered.

But that had just become white noise at some point you heard a knock at your door, and you froze. The knock came again, more insistent this time, and a familiar voice called out softly, "It's me, Spencer. Can we talk?"

Your heart leaped into your throat at the sound of his voice, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wanted to open the door and let him in, to seek the comfort and understanding he offered. But another part hesitated, wary of the vulnerability that came with facing the demons of your past.

After a moment of indecision, you made your way to the door and slowly turned the handle, revealing Spencer standing on the other side. His eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and compassion, his expression open and vulnerable.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I didn't mean to trigger any bad memories."

"It's okay, Spencer," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't know. I overreacted, and I'm sorry for running off like that."

Spencer's eyes softened with understanding. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your reaction was completely valid given your past experiences. I should have been more mindful."

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Spencer broke the quietude, his voice tender. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to face it alone."

As you looked into Spencer's eyes, seeing genuine care and concern reflected back at you, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain and fear that still lingered within you, there was also a glimmer of hope kindled by his presence.

"I... I think I'm ready to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy but freeing as they left your lips, carried by a sense of trust in Spencer's sincerity.

Spencer nodded, his expression encouraging as he stepped further into your apartment. "Take your time. I'm here to listen whenever you're ready," he reassured you, his gaze unwavering in its support.

~join my taglist~

~taglist~

@purplepistachi0 @iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee@ms-ks-world@evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalyntgtgfhvgg@krokietino @julliliiia@xohoneybun @pleasantwitchgarden @Theillestvillian3@piperb400@queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @Catsareawesomek@drreidsfavwhxre@Oureternalbond@beth-gallagher22 @firstunmannedflyingdeskset @waywardhunter95 @r-3dlips @keiva1000 @peppersapro @just-a-harmless-patato @miss.daianaa@skulliecadaver-blog @svnfully @amethysssssst@bluepuppethidinginafilingcabinet@lover-of-books-and-tea @indigosamsblog @khxna

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction

653 notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 4 months

Text

click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf that’s it

You look like your mom.

Your father’s admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You don’t dare look at him.

Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. It’s not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming.

Honey, I… I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. They’re heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year.

Me, too, dad.

You’re not sure if you’re lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose.

You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart.

FOUR YEARS LATER

FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Some people believe that any form of assistance is… insulting. Whether it be to them as people or… specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. I’m not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.”

Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes you’re not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. “I think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So… What’s your favorit— “

“My dad died last year.”

Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. “Alright, hun,” Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. “Let’s talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?” You simply shrug.

Dr. Brown nods and tries again. “Were you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.”

Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, “I… I wanted to be. Close.” You whisper. “He wasn’t around like that, though.”

She scribbles and solemnly nods, “Did he work often?” Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks.

“I didn’t think I’d care that he died… He was never around growing up, so… like, whatever.” You grumble lamely.

“What did losing him feel like?”

The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing you’ve grown to loathe, “Like… the world was burnin’.”

“Elaborate.” She pries softly.

Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. “I wasn’t even sad. Just…” You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm.

“Angry. I was angry all the time.” You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. “Just like he was.” You pause when your breath shakes, “I wish I got some of my mom’s traits. My dad’n I are just alike.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater.

“… You’re not like him— “

“I am— “

“You’re not. You’re trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?” She’s stern when she speaks.

You’re stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words.

WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Think about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed… Anything you feel comfortable sharing.” Your eyes stay glued to your therapist’s couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet.

It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didn’t like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with it’s not for you, it’s for me! Sit still! She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldn’t live out was now yours.

Your father wasn’t around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months — sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didn’t pack, a hug he didn’t give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory.

So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen?

You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words you’d never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning?

You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your mom’s in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet.

But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didn’t remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Don’t wanna be late!

You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasn’t where it should’ve been; You couldn’t shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day.

Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapist’s seat. You’re still not used to the sound of your own voice. “It’s… it’s a funny story…” You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapist’s scribbling pen.

Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening?

“Ellie, holy fucking — shit, these look fucking incredible!” Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots she’d taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re…”

“A genius, I know,” Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. It’s almost eleven. “M’almost done— “

“Nope! Not happening!” Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. “You’re not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ain’t stayin’ here ‘til two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.”

Yuki giggles at Saliyah’s scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. They’re not there yet! All she needs is an hour… or three—

“What did I say! —“

“Alright, alright, fuck.” Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching.

The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “Oh, wooow, she’s actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? —“

“Can you stop.” Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. “No!” They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? There’s no way she’s that stubborn.

All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. It’s an early day.

“Alright, bitches!” Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. “I want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arou— “

Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, “Girl… fuck you.” Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She can’t wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle.

Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane… Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldn’t say no. Just when she thought she’d never get on an aircraft out of fear…

The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently.

Days like this keep Ellie humbled… Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked “necessary resources” was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career she’s passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father.

Well… she has most things.

She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. She’s so excited.

It’s a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace.

Meow! Meow!

Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, “Hiii, mama. I’m home.” She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. “You’re heavy, fuck.” The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. There’s soft scuffling from behind her as she sips.

Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over.

“Miss her? Yeah?” She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.

She hopes you’re alright.

“You said that going to his funeral was different from your mom’s. Do you mind elaborating?”

You shrug and scoff. “Shouldn’t everybody feel sad when they parents die?” Dr. Brown mimics you, “Not at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.”

“I was angry.” Your statement is blunt and abrasive.

“Expound.”

“I wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.” You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? “I just… Seein’ all these fuckers I didn’t know talk about how fuckin’… great he was and how missed he’ll be was fuckin’ infuriating. They don’t know shit about that man or the shit he’s done.”

Sympathy washes over Dr. Brown’s pupils. “See, your temper is the reason you’re here. You’re not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, but…” She’s simultaneously stern and empathic, “You do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. You’re perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.”

You instantly know what she’s referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya… Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away.

“I didn’t… know what to do…” You didn’t, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, you’d said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you!

“No one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.” She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. “What I do know is that… you’re fighting grief. You’re choosing not to experience it, and it’s making you lash out on people who don’t deserve it.”

But how does one grieve the person that made their life… unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. It’s unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter who’s present. Your father’s home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night.

Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. You’re still surprised it wasn’t engulfed in flames after his funeral.

“I just…” Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing feels… real anymore.”

“You’re real, baby.” This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. “Your feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone else’s. You have to remember that.”

You’re listening so intently, “What I'd suggest…” You already know what she’s going to say, and you’re petrified. You sag into your seat.

You owe those two girls an apology.

Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and they’re haunting.

“Three.” You whisper.

“Hm?”

“I owe…” A heavy exhale. “Three girls an apology.”

OCTOBER, 2013

Ellie’s officially fifteen. She’d give anything to be home right now.

She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car.

Ellie’s dad held her hand the entire drive. He didn’t comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time.

Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. She’s grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

English concludes and she’s silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand.

Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesn’t fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Where’s that book you always have—

Tyler! The teacher’s voice booms, the class filling with oooh’s, That's enough. Give her stuff back now.

C’mooon, I can’t talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellie’s face burns, swallowing the lump that’s forming in her throat.

How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellie’s things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion.

Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later.

A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!

You turn to Amaya, who’s smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with… hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God.

Hi. You’re really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch?

Ceniyah

… Ceniyah? … Thee Cece? The person you’ve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on!

You turn back to Amaya who’s giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. It’s not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuck—

Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person you’re in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong.

Hi.

You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. You’re going to die. You jump out of your chair and… take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she can’t see your acne scars… and she’s shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married?

H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note… It’s beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies.

Are you kiddin’ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful.

I love you.

Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You don’t think you said that… Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people… do that, and stuff…

She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow.

I’d appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention.

A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs.

Best… day… ever.

PRESENT

Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out.

She’s sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children… ever, but it might not be so bad—

Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOW—

… Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though.

“What’s the matter, mama?” She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. “Hungies?” Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellie’s editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, “What, you wanna try?”

Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble.

She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi… an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam… But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck?

Ellie opens it… and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word.

hi, ellie. i’m not sure how to start this off, but i hope it’s decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance.

you probably don’t remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but… yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.

this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. i’m not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly.

i’m trying to do better. i want to do better, but i can’t unless i express it.

you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you don’t, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, i’d be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if it’s less of a hassle. i see how busy you are.

thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. i’m very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully.

sincerely, someone trying to start fresh.

(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. you’re really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.)

Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head.

You… what the fuck.

Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and she’s spiraling into panic; She can’t unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that she’d never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. She’s grown to be okay without your presence.

The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago.

WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN

“How do you feel now? Be honest.”

“… Still shitty… but alright, I guess.” You’re hoarse when you speak.

“Elaborate. What does alright mean for you?”

You pick at your fingers, “I’m not… I don’t wanna, like, kill myself… if that’s what you’re asking. The ball’s in their court now, I guess. I’m… I’m just alright.” Your shoulders bounce in a shrug.

“Has anyone answered?” Your head shakes in denial. “Don’t let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they don’t, and they’re valid in both options.”

Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, “What?” You ask.

She shrugs, “One person isn’t on your making amends list.”

Your reply is immediate, “Probably for a reason.”

“Do you remember what you told me during our first meeting?”

Irritation boils under your skin. “I see where you’re taking this conversation and I’m not messin’ wit’ it… Respectfully. Next topic, please.”

Her hands raise in surrender, “Ay’, I’m not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.”

“Right.”

“You did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will say— “

“It’s what she deserved.” You say flatly. “She… humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnant— “

“Chile, I’m not tryna hear all that— “

You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your father’s home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye.

What you did after that… you’ll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; She’s dead to you.

Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, “Yes, ma’am?” You say sarcastically.

“Watch that tone,” That look in her eye… she meant that. You’ll be quiet. “She was wrong for what she did, but you ain’t innocent.”

“I’m sorry, but I disagree. That one… she can choke. I don’t care.” Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you don’t care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic.

She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. “… Alright, then.”

On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellie’s been feeling for the past week. The number of times she’s reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but she’s weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break.

She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner… and now she’s tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldn’t hurt.

Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. They’re quite delicious… Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but she’s hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say!

Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the lady’s ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she can’t remember the last time she partied. Sue her!

It’s not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellie’s button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but they’re no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe.

Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girl’s jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes.

“You’re adorable!” Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the woman’s shoulder… and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heart’s pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellie’s ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt.

Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The woman’s gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellie’s nostrils.

“Come to the bathroom with me?” Ellie’s nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and she’s being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain.

Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips

grind forward before she hears, “You ever been tied up?” The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, “N-No,” she whispers.

Her perfect teeth shine, “You wanna be?”

Does she? “I — yeah, I guess?”

“Put your wrists together,” she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, “You gotta name, honey?”

“Ellie… M’Ellie…” The woman’s hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, “What’s yours?” She only receives a shrug. “Whatever you want it to be.” Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her… fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps.

Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellie’s boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, “Gonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?”

Ellie’s vision whites out. Only for a second, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”

Ellie’s sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?” Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry.

“Just — fuck, just one time.”

“Yeah?” She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, “I'm your lucky second?” Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, “Ffuck—“ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the woman’s teeth gritted when she asks, “Steppin’ out on your girl, huh?”

Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, “N— agh, s-shit, wasn’t m’girl—“

“Yeah? She touch you like me?” The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. She’s already so close and she can’t fucking think, “Think m’cummin’—“ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible.

“Can feel it. Tell me when.” But Ellie couldn’t. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellie’s clit and she sobs, practically riding the woman’s face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears she’s going to pass out.

The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the woman’s mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, it’s stronger. The woman’s groaning in her pussy like she’s starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm.

She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellie’s bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesn’t register that she’s whining your name until the woman asks, “Tha’s your girl?” Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.

She’s so loud when she explodes all over this stranger’s face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her… She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day.

When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellie’s thighs, chest wet with her juices.

“Good, honey?”

Ellie blinks like she’s risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellie’s hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellie’s nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured.

She’s winded when she finally speaks, “Um… thanks…” How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?

“No problem…” The woman’s warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellie’s forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point.

Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. “You should text her.”

Ellie’s stomach churns. “… What.”

“The girl that’s not your girl.” That’s the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellie’s heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyah’s, then Yuki’s. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellie’s not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you.

“I think I’m in trouble.” Ellie states mindlessly.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when she’s met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss.

WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“You look bright.”

You feel brighter. Just a little bit. You’ve finally gotten your locs retwisted.

“Amaya texted me back.” Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“Yeah? What’d Ms. Producer say?”

“She, um… She wants to have dinner.”

“Oh? And what’d you say?”

“I said of course and then sobbed until I got here.” Dr. Brown chuckles, “When’s the big meal?”

“In two days. I got a hotel near where she’s at, so… Yeah. Probably won’t see me for a little.”

“Good for you, honey.” She says proudly, “Heard from any others?” Your head shakes. It’s not surprising that Abby and Ellie haven’t reached out to you. They don’t owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma.

“Progress is progress, nonetheless.” Her tone reverts back to stern, “Remember… when you see that girl, don’t expect anything to come from it. She’s going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.”

Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend… if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isn’t foreign to you, but you’re anticipating the worst for your meeting. You’d give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but how’re you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?

You can’t remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop.

When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. You’re not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); It’s a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.

Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you see…

Who is that?

“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart!” An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. “It’s so good to see you!”

What the fuck is going on? “You... You, too, uh… ma’am!” You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?

“Students don’t usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.” Major… Students… Graphic design… Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesn’t. What the fuck is this woman’s name! You feel like a cunt all over again!

“I’d love to catch up if you’re sticking around!”

“Um… yeah, of course.” Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers!

You silently thank the Lord.

“What brings you back to town, honey!” Professor Meyers asks excitedly.

“Um… just missin’ school, I guess.” You lie. Fuck this school.

She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, “Wow. First time I heard that. I didn’t see you at graduation!”

Your chest concaves and your face burns, “I, uh. I didn’t graduate. I dropped out.” Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face.

“Wh— Why?”

You shut down her interrogation, “I just… stuff happened. I couldn’t handle everything all at once.” Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry, honey. Whatever it was… I hope it’s okay, now.”

“Getting through it.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating.

“Y’know… if you’re interested…” Professor Meyers’ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you.

“Some of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.”

Your body burns. “Thank you.”

She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. “This is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if you’d wanna join the little alumni support team.”

You accept her card, “But I’m not… I didn’t graduate— “

“Oh, hush now! If you go to college, you’re an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!” Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. “I gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!”

You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her that you haven’t touched a canvas since your father’s funeral.

You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your father’s closet for suitable attire. You can’t remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself.

You feel out of place standing here with the… upper class. They’re dressed to the nines and it’s incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didn’t you bring a fucking iron?

“How can I help you, miss?”

Your eyes bulge when they lock with the host’s and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, “I— there’s… reservation…”

The host stares at you with utter confusion, “Oh, sure! What’s the name?”

“Um… Amaya— “

“Ms. Robinson?” The host’s eyes fill with glitter, “Oh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way she’s actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldn’t believe— “

Another host interjects, “My apologies, ma’am! She’s a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.” The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, “Would you like a menu?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You won’t be able to keep anything down anyway.

You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass.

Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. There’s two glasses and a bottle of… something on the table.

“Ms. Robinson! Your guest is here!”

Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled

shoes. She’s dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours.

You’re actually not ready to see her. You’re not ready at all.

“You want a glass?”

Amaya’s tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. “N-No thank you.”

She scoffs laughter around the rim, “Shocking.” You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink.

“You said that already.” She states, brown eyes sharp. “Why are you?”

You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, “Because… I — I wasn’t…”

“I don’t hear from you for months,” She spits, “And then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screamin’ at me, tellin’ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself… because I’m selfish and money hungry… Right?”

Angry tears sizzle in Amaya’s eyes as she continues, “And I still come and visit you… only to get a door slammed in my fuckin’ face.”

You’re completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. “I… there’s no excuse for what I did— “

Amaya’s eyes are void, “Why did you do it.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you rush out, desperate. You’re losing her, “He — I was just — I couldn’t control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldn’t stop— “

“Abby called me two days ago.”

You gasp, “S-She did—?”

“She told me she hated you.” Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, “O-Okay.” Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. “She hasn’t, um… never mind.” That’s why she hasn’t reached out, you suppose. Well deserved.

“I don't… hate you, you know that, right?”

You sob, palms in your eyes, “S’okay if you do. I deserve it.”

She shrugs, “I don’t. I’m just very disappointed in you.” You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see someone you considered a sister.

“I’m so sorry, May— “

“M’gonna head out. I’m,” She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I… I don’t hate you.” You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they won’t stop flowing.

It’s difficult, accepting that you’re undeserving. That you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you can’t escape. It’s dark and cold and you’re desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can.

You’re unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldn’t stop glaring at you.

The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you.

Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning.

taggiesss yasss n slayyyy @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl

#in frame ✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #black!reader #black!oc #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

668 notes · View notes

crimsonji · 1 year

Text

୨୧ don’t forget to eat!

" reader accidentally skips their meals, how would their boyfriend react? "

ft. kazuha, heizou, cyno, tighnari, SCARAMOUCHE! x gn!reader (seperate)

cw: mentions of not eating (eat 2 meals a day stay healthy!!!), fluff, wanderer is a little bitch man (i still love him though), not proofread

>> 🍁 kazuha’s musings: inspired by me forgetting to eat/being too lazy to do so lol. also i thought it'd be fun to write for scaramouche! idk if i should refer to him as wanderer in my works since that's the 'present day' version of him now i suppose? if ppl like seeing me write for wanderer i'll add him to my main four

✦ Kaedehara Kazuha

Your health is more important than anything to Kazuha, even when he's far from you, his home, he'll spend late nights looking up at the stars and wishing you're doing well.

The first time he notices this bad habit of yours is whenever he offers you lunch or a small snack, or how when he asks what you've eaten that day, the only response you can give him is a sheepish smile and a scratch of the neck.

On the rare weeks when he is with you, Kazuha takes it upon himself to cook all of your meals. Not like he wouldn't cook for you outside of this reason, but it gave him more incentive to make his dishes extra delicious. Are you picky about certain foods? Kazuha won't add it. Don't enjoy fish? Don't worry, he'll use more vegetables instead. Oh, you like spicy food? Good thing he picked up some spices from his trip to Sumeru.

When you brush him off and say whatever you're working on is seemingly more important than eating, he'll walk up to you from where you're sitting on your desk, wrap your arms around you, and whisper ever-so sweetly into your ear in a way that makes your knees weak.

"Love, it's not healthy to skip meals. Join me for dinner, please?"

Definitely the type of guy to spoon-feed you. When you do get a taste of the food he made, Kazuha smiles whole-heartedly at the way your eyes light up while your tastebuds soak up the flavours. Kazuha mostly admires you enjoying the food more than actually eating.

If you're not eating because you're too engrossed in your work, Kazuha basically forces you to take a break. He's still soft-spoken about it, but firm with you, offering a massage if the stress is getting to your muscles.

"A clear mind leads to better work ethic, how about some tea, darling?"

Brings you a cup of green tea and snacks every few hours when you're busy!!! It feels so domestic, too, Kazuha bringing his lips to your cheek and offering a few words of encouragement before leaving you be.

He'll give you some quick and easy recipes he learned before he leaves to make sure you don't skip your meals again. Besides, Kazuha would be greatly saddened if you continued this habit, please don't make him worry and eat healthy for both of your sakes...

✦ Shikanoin Heizou

Pretty much noticed it right away. He's a detective, after all, and you're his dear partner, it's only right for him to take note of every little detail about you. His job is very important to him, which means he tries to take care of his well-being to be the best he can during work, which includes sneaking off to get a quick bite to eat whenever he can...

Heizou would rope you into these sneaky outings, somehow able to find you wherever you are and invite you to a quick lunch date. And you know how Heizou's specialty dish description mentions that whoever eats it wants to tell the truth? Yeah, he basically does that to you.

"Hmm, you've been skipping your meals, haven't you? Tsk, I can't have my dear partner be doing that, can I?"

He'll lightly chide you about it in a playful tone, yet you're still confused he managed to get it spot-on. He laughs it off when you point it out, just telling you that you mean a lot to him, so he should keep a close eye on your health. (He's so casual about it, but you can still feel how genuine he's being and it makes your chest feel tight)

Heizou can't really say anything about eating healthy... He eats fried food for almost every lunch break. But he thinks that as long as you're eating something at a reasonable time, he'll be satisfied. Heizou will make it a point to take you out for lunch, and even if you're busy he'll just point out the rumbling of your stomach.

"You're not gonna feel good if you don't eat. No worries, it's my treat--now, let's go, my dear partner!"

He really likes taking you out on picnics during your breaks, bringing a small array of street snacks and relaxing with you under a pink sakura tree while admiring the scenery--which to Heizou, is you.

✦ Cyno

Sadly, Cyno is busy and on most days is unable to see you. However, when he does have the time, the first thing he does is to go and see you. He invites you for lunch, and you make an off-handed comment that you haven't had much to eat that day in a lighthearted tone. However, Cyno seemed much more concerned than amused.

"Have you not been eating properly?"

Is what he asks you, amber eyes narrowed with an unwavering gaze directed at you. The vague answer you give doesn't lower his worries, either--it's almost like he's interrogating you, but you can see the concern written all over his face. When you do tell him the truth, he only silently stares at you before sighing to himself.

"Order whatever you like, it's on me."

Most of the time he'll already be off somewhere dealing with his matra duties, but on your desk, you'll see a snack neatly placed on it with a note beside it...

"I'm coming home earlier than usual, I'll make us dinner. Eat this to tie you over. Love, Cyno"

He can't be there all the time to remind you to eat, so he likes leaving notes around your shared home, or sneaking one in your bag in the early mornings before he leaves. You're very thankful that you live with Cyno, both because you can spend at least a bit more time with him and because if he wasn't there, you'd probably forget to eat more often than not.

Obviously, Cyno will sneak in a joke somehow. His jokes always seem to put a smile on your face, even if it's a pitiful one, and he has a joke that seems almost perfect for this situation... One day Cyno had happened to see you around Port Ormos, and he looked almost giddy when he caught your attention. It's actually quite common for you to run into each other like this, Cyno never failing to send you off with a quick kiss.

He offers you a Candied Ajilenakh Nut, and I think you can see where this is going...

"Here, have a Candied Ajilenakh Nut... and I'll ca-shew later... Ah, no, I don't have to leave right now. Did you not get it? So basically--"

He'll ask you if you've eaten that day, and when you say yes he'll give you the cutest look, Cyno's eyes much more softer with the smallest smile on his face. He'll walk up to you and gently pat your head like you're a pet cat, ruffling up your hair in an act of contentment.

As mentioned, he'll try to cook dinner for you. Cyno doesn't think he's the best cook, and he's only perfected a few dishes. He'll give you something that's both nutritious and filling, and Cyno almost looks nervous when he watches you take the first bite, muscles relaxing once he sees you hum in enjoyment.

Don't try to avoid not eating under Cyno's watch, he doesn't care if you supposedly have work to do, your health is more important than some measly pieces of paper.

"I made you dinner."

"Oh, just save my plate! I'm not that hungry--"

Cue Cyno glaring at you

"I-I'll be at the dinner table..."

Cyno smiling "Good."

✦ Tighnari

You should have already expected to receive a long lecture for your bad habit, nothing misses Tighnari's keen ears and eyes. Sure, you were getting a lot of work done, but Tighnari noticed your energy was more easily drained than usual. When he questions you, his ears point downwards and armed crossed unimpressed when you awkwardly admit you haven't made any time to eat.

Cue a twenty-minute lecture on the importance of a nutritious diet and needing food to keep you energized, and how Tighnari's worried that you've been doing this for a while now without his knowledge.

Doesn't matter what you were doing at that moment, he immediately says you two are taking a lunch break and takes you to a quiet part of the forest with freshly made pita pockets in his hand.

He comes off as a little bit curt, but it's just because he's worried. Tighnari gets out of his lecturing mentality once you bite down on the pita pocket, and even though he still has the urge to delve into another lecture; he stops himself and lets you enjoy your food.

"You lummox, don't just skip meals like that. Here, take half of my pita pocket, I insist!"

The next few weeks is the same question from Tighnari: "Have you eaten yet?" He gives you small candies or nutritious plant-based snacks throughout the day, chiding you on actually eating them instead of just storing them away in a bag.

He almost acts like a worried mother towards you; it's a habit of his, Tighnari always looking out for others and especially you. If he's a bit busy that day, he'll ask Collei to drop off some pita pockets for you. They're both very sweet, Collei cheerily encourages you to eat at least two meals a day.

You can see Tighnari's tail swish slightly when he sees you're a bit more energized, indicating that you actually ate something! You feel a bit bad for Tighnari kind of babying you like this, but he really doesn't mind at all. A part of him actually kind of likes giving you snacks or making food for you, it's like an act of service to show his care for you.

"I'm assuming you're getting kind of tired of eating pita pockets for lunch every day, huh? Don't worry, I made something different today."

✦ Wanderer

"...What do you mean you haven't eaten?"

He acts more annoyed than anything when you tell him, eye twitching when you claim that you just "didn't feel hungry." You're just a fragile human, and humans require food to process into energy--why didn't you want to eat?

His annoyance with you is just a mean mask for his real concern. What if you just stopped eating and slowly started getting weaker? No, he can't let that happen. You may be a fragile human, but to the wanderer, you're his fragile human, and he'll be damned if you decide to skip meals.

He'll make an off-handed and snide remark that "Fine, if you wanna starve so badly then I won't stop you." and he'll curtly tell you that the human body requires too much maintenance--even though he's a mechanical puppet.

Please ignore how mean he may sound, Wanderer just doesn't know how to show his genuine care for you--he abandoned Kunikuzushi many years ago. But, if he's Wanderer now, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to act more outwardly... caring, he guesses.

Once his ears hear the low grumble of your stomach, he narrows his eyes at you. What's even stranger to him is that you still insist that you don't need to eat, humans are so odd. He scoffs, walking off to who knows where.

"Stay there, I'll get some firewood."

Soon enough he comes back, quickly setting up a small fire and preparing ingredients without a word. He doesn't miss the way you're staring at him almost in awe, trying to focus on the pot filled with rice quietly bubbling.

"Why do you look so surprised? ...of course I can cook, why couldn't I?"

Much to your surprise, the ochazuke he presents to you looks extremely appetizing--at least you thought so, maybe it's because you were really hungry. You gingerly took a bite, the light flavours of the green tea complimenting well with the plainness of the rice. When you look up to meet eyes with Wanderer, he's grinning slyly knowing you like the dish.

"Hmm, and you looked so reluctant for me to cook. What, did you think I was gonna poison it or something? Idiot, it's not like I wanna kill you, I would have done that when I still had the gnosis."

"Don't think I'm gonna do this for you every time you forget to eat, I'm not a babysitter."

"...What are you gawking at? Go wash the dishes."

7K notes · View notes

luvrxbunny · 5 months

Note

God I feel so dirty requesting this off anon lmao- may I have some titty worship with the moon boys? Any one of them will do, I don't mind :) I hope this request is ok!!!

a/n: im sorry this took so long bb also idk if this is what u wanted I'm sorry i tried!!

hershey's kisses

pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader and Marc Spector x f!reader

summary: You stumble upon a wonderful secret

warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, oral (m receiving), nipple play(?)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: it's called hershey's kisses cus that's what oscar isaacs nipples remind me of also sorry abt the gumdrop thing lmao

Steven Grant - 0.8k

You have him laid out on the couch, whatever movie that was playing is long forgotten about and he’s whining your name beautifully, a little symphony just for your ears as you suck his sensitive bud into your mouth. “Sto- The movie, baby. We-” His head falls back again as you scrape your teeth over the skin gently.

You were just playing with the hem of his shirt when this all started, but Steven had to go and be all squirmy about it so of course you ventured further. You trailed your hand up his abs, listening to how his breathing sped up the closer you got to his pecks. He let out the most satisfying moan when you pinched his nipples between your fingers. So obviously you had to up the sensations. You backed him up until he was laying down for you and being the good boy he is, his legs instantly spread to make room for you between them. You shimmied yourself up his body until his chocolate kisses were level with your eager lips.

His back arched beautifully, pushing his chest further into your lips as he tried to hold his moans in. “Stop it, get-- get off.” You pause for a moment looking up. His fingers are digging into the fabric of the couch as you kiss all over him. Your hand comes up to make sure both nipples are getting enough attention before diverting your gaze to his face.

His eyes are shut tight but you can tell they’re rolled back behind his lids. His hips are thrusting ever so slightly, gaining ghostlike friction for his rapidly hardening cock. You’re sat between his legs but not close enough for him to grind against you and it's the most annoying thing he’s ever experienced. “Please I can’t--” He cuts himself off with another gasp and his hands come to grip your shoulders, a warning of sorts but he does nothing to pull you away. You bite and suck at his nipple like you’re trying to leave a hickey over it.

“More--” His voice is broken, every word coming out as a raspy gasp. You stop your assault and look up at him with a deviously innocent smile. “What, baby?” You ask him with the sweetest voice you can conjure. “What do you need?” You watch his adam’s apple bob as he tries to hold in his whines of frustration.

“I need more.” He sounds like he could cry, so after watching him squirm, you give in. Your hand comes to cup the bulge in his pants and he reacts instantly. A pathetic moan slips from his lips as his hips press themselves into your hand as roughly as he can, shaking and whimpering as he does.

You admire the sight for a bit before bringing your attention back to his nipples, earning yourself a cut of moan of “Oh! F--” His hips stutter against your palm in their pace. His lips are pursed shut, giving you ragged little hums of what his moans should be and you have to bring your other hand up to grab his jaw, force his mouth open to hear them. They come pouring out of his mouth, more debauched than before, they’re barely moans at this point, more like shouts of pleasure.

You feel bad for assaulting him like this. He’s probably never had anyone pay this much attention to his nipples before but they're so soft, smooth, perfect in your mouth, and you get the bonus of hearing his angelic sounds above you, so why would you stop?

You have to pull your mouth away from him within the next minute because one of his hands grabs your wrist that's holding his jaw in a way that's more than a little warning, it's a frantic and desperate grip. You look up instantly, worried that maybe you were gripping him too tightly but when your eyes land on his face you're met with someone you hadn’t even considered.

His eyes are rolled back, deep into his head, his mouth is open wide, his plush lips trembling as he moans silently and his hips bucking gently into your hand as he fills his pants. His eyebrows pull tauter the longer he’s cumming, it’s knocked all the breath from his lungs and his face is turning a bit red. You’ve been entranced with him since you laid your eyes on his beautiful face but now you’re getting a little worried.

You lean into his ear and whisper gently, not wanting to startle him. “Breathe, baby” and thankfully that seems to do the trick, all his groans and whines shoot from his mouth as his eyes come forward and shut tightly, he leans into you for comfort and you instantly wrap all your free limbs around him, and your hand still massaging his spent cock as he shakes in your hold.

Marc Spector - 0.6k

You’ve been on your knees in front of Marc for around fifteen minutes and your knees are starting to hurt. He’s groaning gently above you but it doesn't sound like he's anywhere near close. It sounds like he’s just soaking in the pleasure your mouth is giving him, relishing it, losing himself in it, but the carpet is digging into your skin, and your jaw is getting so sore you're afraid it’ll be stuck open by the time he’s done. So you start roaming your hands around his body, scratching his thighs lightly and feeling them jump. You’re trying to figure out anything you can do to speed up this process.

His sounds get a bit more frequent, a little more breathy as you work your way to his hips, just admiring his body, his smooth, soft skin. Your hands can feel his stomach tensing as you slide up to his chest. His moans have died down a bit, sounding more like they're stuck in his throat as you rub over his body. His hips are beginning to grind further into your mouth, nudging down your throat as you reach his pecs.

His mouth finally opens again and a gasp flies out as your fingers pinch down on his nipples gently. You meant it as a playful little gesture, something he does when he's going down on you but the gasp is telling as to how he feels about the action.

Your thumbs press into his nipples a little roughly to get his hips to buck again. “S- Baby--!” You can hear him struggling above you, choking on air and your eyes open to see his hands clutching the bedsheets like his life depends on it. His cock is twitching more frantically in your mouth the longer you tease his gumdrops.

Marc is losing his mind above you. He’s never ventured over his body like this, whenever he’s getting himself off, all he needs is the thought of you, he doesn’t need all this. But of course, you’d be the one to give it to him. His eyes are shut as tightly as he can, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tries not to melt into your mouth. All his thoughts are clouding, he can’t think about anything aside from how perfectly you're touching him. How when you saw the stress in his face, you instantly got on your knees to make him feel better. Fuck.

He wants to last and relish in the romance of how you’ll serve him but you know him too well. You haven’t stopped assaulting his nipples since you found them. He can feel you please hums over his cock and heat is pooling at the base of his stomach, sliding down and warming his balls as he feels your lips pull into a small smirk.

He can’t help the broken whimper that falls from his lips and his entire body seizes as his dick explodes down your throat. His entire body flashes with heat and all he can see is white. He feels all the hairs on his body stand, alert to every sensation you're giving him. He can hear your moans over his cock, he can imagine that beautiful look of bliss you always have when his balls feed you like this. When he floods your mouth for so long you have no choice but to drink it all, he can feel himself shaking in your grasp, your thumbs still dutifully circling his chest in a way that has him arching into you embarrassingly, trying to prolong the immense pleasure you elicit.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

#marc spector #marc spector moon knight #marc spector smut #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc speactor x fem! reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant imagine #steven grant x fem!reader #moon knight smut

317 notes · View notes

bangtanficsforyou · 9 months

Text

Vérités Cachées (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Summary: You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.

Genre: fluff, mild angst, smut.

Word count: 8K (it was supposed to be a 1K drabble)

Warnings: steamy stuff, or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng p in v s^x, mild d^^ty talk if it counts, s^x out in the wild (against a tree to be very specific) (p.s: it feels so awkward writing it with all the '^' but idk man apparently Tumblr flags it or something otherwise? And I have seen other writers do the same, so yeah)

Based on this request.

Masterlist

If you enjoy my writing consider supporting my patreon!

Faster. Just a little bit faster.

"Stop."

The leaves scrunch underneath your feet as you try to work them as fast as you possibly can.

"Stop!"

You have lost track of how long you have been running. All you know is that your knees feel weak and they are this close to giving out.

But you cannot stop.

"Y/N, stop."

No matter what you do Y/N, do not stop.

Your lungs beg you to take a break and let them have their share of oxygen. Your throat runs dry and the saliva you have been gulping a little too frequently is just not enough anymore. These things should have been enough of a sign for you to realise that even if you willfully don't give up, your body will.

And that is exactly what happens the very next moment.

You feel a sharp pain in your left leg. The muscles cramp in protest and make it impossible for you to keep your pace up. You falter and somehow limp to lean against a tree for support.

Your mind goes to lactic acid and how lack of oxygen can have your muscles doing anaerobic breakdown. Geez, you should have gone to the gym and have been a little more familiar with physical exercises. Maybe then your body wouldn't have burnt out this easily.

You try to move your legs and examine the damage. The good thing is the cramp doesn't seem severe, the discomfort should be gone soon. The bad news is, for the recovery to be fast, you need to take deep breaths and relax for the lactic acid to be washed from your system.

All these calculative thoughts are brought to a stop when you hear footsteps approaching. Shit.

You bend down and take hold of a piece of rock, the only thing available that can be used as a weapon.

"Y/N," a breathy voice reaches your ears and a figure soon comes into sight.

The figure happens to be of someone you know very well. Jungkook's. Your boyfriend.

Which is the absolute worst part.

The man comes closer to you with his eyes locked on yours and you notice the fury in them.

A shiver runs down your spine and you raise the stone in a threatening manner. "You come one step closer and I'll hit you with this."

The man doesn't react in any manner. Almost as if the words don't register, as if he's in a world of his own.

He doesn't stop walking towards you which makes you hold the piece of rock firmly, ready to aim. However, he suddenly is a little too close to you and with one flick of his hand, he manages to throw your so-called weapon to the ground, leaving you defenceless.

You don't even try to hide how terrified you feel like this, all weaponless against something you don't even properly know what it is.

You're about to plead for your life when he speaks.

"Are you okay?"

The voice. Even the voice is an exact replica of Jungkook's. Whatever this man is, he sure as hell is dangerous if he can imitate a person this flawlessly. Lord knows what other tricks he has up his sleeves.

You don't answer his question for you know he could possibly not have any interest in your well-being.

"What are you? Why are you chasing me?"

Something about your shaky voice has a visible effect on him and he puts a little distance between the two of you. It's enough for you to release the breath you were holding but you also don't miss how he keeps a close eye on your movements for any time you try to escape.

"I–I am Jungkook," the man speaks and despite the stutter in his words, he speaks with confidence.

You manage a weak scoff. "As if I'd ever believe that. Do you think I didn't see? You think you can fool me?"

"What did you see?" His senses go full-on alert.

"I know–" you look away from the man in fear when the scene replays in your mind, "–I know you are no ordinary human. You're a beast."

You don't know what happens next, for there's a pause. A pause, that is long enough for you to hope that he's gone. You would have liked to check if your assumptions were right had you not been this scared to open your eyes.

However, you do not have to keep guessing for much longer, for moments later there's a hand being placed under your chin, which slowly and gently guides you to turn your head towards the man.

"Open your eyes."

Initially, you don't oblige. You keep your eyes tightly shut. But as the silence lingers and the hand under your chin refuses to leave, you open your left eye to take a peek.

All you see is the man looking at you with the same intense gaze, something burning bright behind those orbs that intimidates you to no end. Aside from that, you also deduce that he's not in the mood of giving up. He seemingly wants to talk to you or worse, wants to do something to you and is willing to wait for it.

You think it's rather wise to cooperate with him while he's still calm and patient. Maybe that way, you'll be able to fool him and while given the chance, make an escape. That way you will also buy yourself time for your muscles to relax and recover.

You slowly open your eyes, apprehensive of what he might do next.

He only repeats his previous statement. "I need you to believe me when I say, I'm Jungkook. The same Jungkook you have known for so long."

You know you shouldn't argue with him. You're in no position to take the risk of igniting a fire you know you'll not be able to put off. But despite your logical reasoning, you feel deeply irked with this man's audacity to claim he's Jungkook. Just how dare he?

Against, your better judgement, all thoughts of cooperating with the man are forgotten.

"I do not believe you for a second."

"I don't blame you for it. But I need you to give me the time to explain myself," he speaks in the same calm, confident tone. "Stop panicking, I won't cause you any harm–"

"What are you?" You interrupt him, mid-sentence, knowing you need to have some idea of what he is for you to consider his words of not harming you, seriously.

For the first time, he looks away, "I'm a werewolf."

Werewolf. So now you know, what this man is.

You search your brain for all the information that you have ever come across about werewolves. How dangerous are they? Do they eat human flesh? Do they murder people?

The more you come up with questions and their respective answers, you realise that none of these answers are reliable for all you know about werewolves are solely based on fictional books or movies. There's no guarantee that anything these movies and books portray is anything barely similar to the way a real werewolf is.

How can it be anything close to the real thing, when werewolves were supposed to be completely fictional? Heck, you wouldn't have believed it had you not seen it yourself.

You sigh when you realise despite now having the crucial information about him, you literally know nothing. You are still as vulnerable as you were before.

"Can I speak now?"

You look at him and reply with a nod. You may not know how reliable his promise of safety is but as long he's talking, you're safe.

"I don't mean to cause you any harm, I'd never. I understand why you're so scared but let me...let me just explain."

You nod again, urging him to speak.

"Some werewolves, like me, live among humans considering that there isn't much forest left in these areas and if we were to move to rural places, it would cause a problem for the werewolves living there. It also increases the chances of gaining unnecessary attention.

I have always lived quietly and never interacted with humans unless necessary. But I had to join the company because apparently there was a documentary on werewolves being made which had footage of real werewolves. A few of us were assigned the job to stop the documentary from being made available to the public."

As a journalist, if there's one thing you have learned over the years, it's the ability to tell when a person is lying. And somehow according to your analysis, he isn't.

However, you shoot that thought down telling yourself he's not a human. He's a werewolf, lord knows what they can do. You're used to interacting with people who lie, not with supernatural beings.

"If I had to get a hold of the files and clips, I had to interact with people. I had to get friendly with them and had to get as much information as I could. Which is how I started talking to you."

The mention catches your attention.

"I was not supposed to fall for you but I did. I did not realise that at some point I had started talking to you not in order to get information out but because I genuinely wanted to. I looked forward to meeting you, talking to you and spending time with you. I fell for you when I was not supposed to.

Falling was a different thing but dating was a whole other story. I simply, simply did not know how to tell you the truth. When we started dating, I was far too deep. I wanted to call you mine and take you places but at the same time, there was this guilt gnawing at me for hiding my true nature from you.

However, when you said that you were in love with me, that was the day that I decided I would do whatever it takes to protect us. Even if it means not telling you the truth."

The man stops, probably done with what he had to say. However, you find his words extremely suspicious. How can you not? The man you have known and loved for a whole year, suddenly turns out to be a werewolf? As if you wouldn't have caught it sooner had it been the case.

You try to move your leg a little to check the condition of your cramp but you make sure that your movements are subtle so that it doesn't catch his attention. You find a bit of relief when you realise that the majority of the pain has subsided.

"Let's say what you're saying is true, how come I have never caught you before?"

"We werewolves do not shift that much. Irrespective of what TVs and films may have made you believe, we do not turn into a wolf against our wishes on a full moon night. If we do change into a wolf, it's only when we want and choose to do so."

You furrow your brows. "You mean you chose to turn into a wolf today? It wasn't an accident?"

He nods. "I booked a vacation in the middle of a forest because it is comforting for the wolf in me to be here. I wanted to just turn into a wolf and go around for a stroll. Never did I think you'd end up seeing me in the middle of a transformation."

You look away when you realise he's done answering. You need to come up with another question, something, anything to keep him occup–

"You do not believe me."

His words catch you by surprise and you gulp in fear. You cannot let him know that you're not playing whatever game he's playing, who knows it might just make him lose his cool. You can't have that. It's better to play dumb.

"That's not true, I am just trying to piece the puzzle together."

The man scoffs with a small chuckle. "You think I can't tell when you lie? I've known you for a long enough time to be able to do that."

Oh shit.

"I understand that you're in total disbelief. As if learning werewolves exist wasn't enough, you also learnt your... boyfriend is one. That can't be easy."

You still do not believe his words but nod nevertheless.

He gently puts your hands in his and his thumb fiddles with the promise ring that Jungkook had given you.

That's weird. Jungkook used to do that whenever he was nervous and needed to calm down.

No, no, no. Just because he is fiddling with your promise ring doesn't mean he's Jungkook. He can't be.

You withdraw your hand from his and look at him with a determination that you didn't have before, a little annoyed with yourself for considering the possibility that this man might just be Jungkook. "I do not know who you are and what you want from me but I know one thing and that is, you're not Jungkook."

"What can I do to make you believe me?"

You shake your head vigorously. "You cannot be Jungkook. My Jungkook is gentle, sweet, and caring. You seemed so scary, my Jungkook is not like that."

"Please look at me," after your withdrawal from him, he does not choose to make you look at him. He realises that irrespective of how gentle he might have been, you may still be uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, you do look at him even if it's after, what seemed to be a moment of contemplation. "I am so sorry that you had to find out this way. But I promise despite my appearance as a wolf, I am still the same Jungkook you know. There's nothing that you don't know about me."

Something about his eyes makes it impossible for you to look away. Maybe it's just the strong emotion that shines through his orbs but for the first time, you notice that his eyes aren't filled with fury.

Out of both curiosity and anxiety, you keep your eyes fixed on his' to understand what exactly is it he's feeling.

A few moments later, you still keep looking. Not because you can't figure out the emotion being reflected in his orbs but rather because you can and you think it simply cannot be so. You must be seeing it wrong. Because what you see is......fear. A lot of fear. He's terrified.

But that can't be it. Why would a werewolf who's been filled with fury, suddenly be so scared? Unless...unless, he wasn't furious in the first place and it was your fight or flight mode that had made it look like he was furious.

Does that mean he has been terrified from the very beginning?

"What...what do you want from me?" Your question comes from a place of confusion. So far you had been under the assumption that this man wants to harm you. But if that were the case, why is he so scared? Things aren't adding up!

"I just want you to realise that I'm Jungkook."

His words play on repeat in your mind. That's the only thing he's been claiming since the beginning, that he is Jungkook.

"Why would Jungk–No, Jungkook would have told me if he was a werewolf. He would have never kept it hidden."

"Maybe Jungkook was too scared that he'd lose you and you'd stop seeing him with love. That the love and adoration you have for him will turn into fear."

He looks like his whole world is falling apart and he's barely holding on.

Fear. This is the source of his fear. This is exactly what he's been so terrified of.

You frown in a state of confusion that turns out to be painful for you. Could this man really be Jungkook? Is Jungkook, him? Are they the same person?

"Would it be so bad if Jungkook were to be a werewolf?" The question is asked softly, a little too softly for your liking and your head spins as it only confuses you even further for you once again, entertain the possibility.

Jungkook. Your sweet, cute, bunny-eyed Jungkook whom you love so much, is a werewolf? It's absurd because you still can't make peace with the fact that werewolves are real. But if it is the Jungkook you know and have grown to love, would it matter? You don't think so. But it's not a question of whether Jungkook is a werewolf. Right now, it's a question about whether this man, who's a werewolf, is Jungkook.

You calmly go through everything he has said so far. Him, joining the company because he had to stop a documentary from being released, which could threaten the truth about werewolves being released to the common public. You recall how he was when he joined, he was distant, and his conversations looked forced as if he was doing it because he doesn't have any other choice. Or the way he was a little too curious about the itsy bitsy details, that no one else paid mind to. Even the time you had found him going through a series of tapes from the office room. Could it all be because he was trying to gather information about the documentary? Could he be saying the truth?

"What happened to the documentary then, did you get a hold of it?"

The man shakes his head. "As it turns out, no such documentary existed in the first place. It was just a rumour which had gotten out of hand."

You immediately shoot him with another question. "Why then, are you still working in our company?"

He chews on the inside of his cheeks, contemplating if you'd even believe his answer. "Because of you."

Something entirely unexpected happens. Your heart skips a beat. In the midst of all the confusion and fear, your traitor heart skips a beat!

You immediately scold yourself for it. What if he's lying to you? What if he's not actually Jungkook?

But, the way he's looking at you....it's the same way Jungkook looks at you. How can it feel like Jungkook if he's not Jungkook? This man could be lying and pulling stories out of his ass but his eyes? What do they say about eyes being the window to the soul? If so, why does it remind you of Jungkook so much?

You shut your eyes close tightly and ask him a question as your last resort. "Tell me something only Jungkook would know."

It doesn't even take him a second and words come pouring out of his mouth. "You like your noodles a little less boiled because that's the way your mom cooked them. You like it when it rains because the weather comforts you. You enjoy it when I play with your hair because you find it soothing. You haven't talked to your brother for months after that fight even though you really want to. You have a little scar on your thighs from the time–"

"You're Jungkook," you whisper to yourself, finding your walls crumbling and your guard lowering. There's no way anyone except Jungkook would know these things.

Jungkook is hit with a tremendous wave of relief which you do not miss. His body visibly reacts as if a huge bag of stone has been lifted off his shoulders.

"I am Jungkook," he whispers back, repeating your words to confirm what you have just said. As if he cannot believe that he has managed to make you trust him. "I am sorry you had to find out this way,"

"You really are a werewolf? You always have been a werewolf? Every time we have talked, you were a werewolf?"

Your set of questions causes Jungkook to get nervous again and he takes a step back. Now feeling sure that you won't try to run away from him, he only manages a weak nod as an answer to all of your questions.

"Wow," your mouth forms an 'o' as you let all of it sink in. Jungkook is a werewolf. Your Jungkook is a werewolf. "I wish you had told me sooner."

"I was so scared I'd lose you," he mutters, his voice wavering, all the confidence and firmness he was showing before, now gone. It's only now that your previous thoughts are confirmed that he's been this scared from the very beginning and you realise his confidence was merely a facade to calm you down. "You being scared of me is an absolute nightmare."

You don't speak for a moment. Now that you feel like you aren't in danger, you take a few seconds to observe him. He is nervous, that much is obvious. But it's the little details about him that call for your attention. You know how he avoids eye contact when he feels small, you know how he runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek when he feels annoyed with himself and you know how he craves to have some part of his body to be in touch with yours because it grounds him. His clenched fists are a sign enough, that he wants to hold onto you, but is resorting with every fibre of his being.

Looking at him now, you wonder how you had not noticed these things before. How you could, even for a moment, think that he was not Jungkook. It's him, everything about him is Jungkook.

He is Jungkook. Your Jungkook.

You take a step towards him, to reduce the distance he had put between the two of you.

"I think the fact that you're a werewolf hasn't quite sunk in, a part of me still is in disbelief," you place your palms against his cheeks and hold his face gently. "But something in my heart tells me you're my Jungkook and that's all that matters. Werewolf, vampire, human, I don't care."

Jungkook closes his eyes and releases a shaky exhale. "Can I hug you?"

You wrap your arms around him and let your head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat washes away any remaining doubts or anxiety you might have had as you relax in his warmth that is so familiar.

Jungkook goes completely limp in your hold as he too wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. He lets go of all the tension in his body and the both of you stand there in the middle of a forest embracing each other.

You would have liked to stay like that a little longer but a sniffle from Jungkook makes you break the embrace. You look at him to find his eyes misty. Jungkook saves you from asking the reason behind his watery eyes, as he himself tells you.

"I thought you wouldn't believe me and that you'd find me disgusting and unappealing," he confesses. "I didn't know what to do to make you see that I'm the same Jungkook. The way you were scared, scared me."

You run your fingers through his hair, knowing it has a soothing effect on him as well. "When I saw you transforming, I was scared but it was because I never even imagined that it was you. I thought it was some scary supernatural being that wanted to harm me."

"And you're not disgusted to know that I am, in a way, partially a wolf?"

The way his voice sounds so small and unsure pulls at your heartstrings and urges you to comfort him. Placing a soft peck of reassurance, you smile against his lips. "Nah, you're still my cute little baby."

Jungkook looks surprised as he looks at you with wide eyes, not having expected that action from you. You giggle seeing his expression. He's your cute little baby, indeed.

His expression turns into that of shyness and a blush appears on his cheeks. "Could you do that again?"

You laugh and the very next moment kiss him again. Your lips mould against his as you kiss him gently, silently apologising for scaring him like that. You kiss him with passion in hopes that it eases his anxiety and makes him feel reassured that you still love him the same.

Jungkook kisses you with a softness that is desperate and needy at the same time. He needs it to fully relax into the fact that you're here, right in front of him and that you haven't left him. He needs to let it sink that you're kissing him with the same amount of love that you always have, that him being a werewolf, doesn't come in the way of your love.

However, when he feels that reassurance hit him, he pulls you impossibly closer and his kissing starts getting harder. It holds the same amount of desperation, as before but this time Jungkook holds onto you tightly as if he's scared to ever let go of you, again. He feels like he needs to apologise to you, needs to love you better than he did before and most importantly needs to express how incredibly grateful he is for you sticking with him.

He could literally worship you right now.

A brief fleeting thought occurs in his mind as to what were to happen if he were to get down on his knees and make you scream his name in the middle of this forest?

That thought is a tell-tale sign that he should pull away, because with each passing second that your lips remain on his', the thought becomes a little less fleeting.

With a groan that has your heartbeat accelerating, Jungkook pulls away and smiles at you. "We should head back."

Your breathing had just started to get faster, your chest had just started to heave and the wave of excitement that makes goosebumps rise all over your skin, had just started to take over. The prospect of having Jungkook in a way where he doesn't have to hide himself makes you curious and crave that intimacy.

"We could head back a little later, we have time until it gets dark," you suggest lightly with a shrug.

Jungkook looks confused at your suggestion. "What do you want to do staying here?"

"I don't know, maybe we could kiss a little more," you suggest with a shy smile on your face.

"While that does sound nice, I do not think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because I might get greedy and end up wanting to do unspeakable things to you," Jungkook reasons, trying to be the voice of logic.

"Who says I do not want to do that already?"

There are a million questions in Jungkook's mind. Would you be okay with it, when you were so scared moments ago? Would you be comfortable with it? Would you regret it later?

You get on your tiptoes and press a small kiss on his cheek, having noticed the concern on his face. "I want you, trust me."

"Are you sure?"

You nod with a reassuring smile.

The glint that takes over his eyes, makes a shiver run down your spine. It's a look you have seen plenty of times, one that you're extremely familiar with.

However, you sense he's still hesitant. Taking a step closer, you make the first move and kiss him hard. Starting it slow be damned, you want him to know the desire you hold for him.

Anything that might have been holding Jungkook back, disappears. He holds you by your waist and pulls you closer. Groaning into your mouth, he bites into your lower lip before capturing it passionately between his lips to soothe any sting the action might have caused.

Your desire increases and you gently prod his lips with your tongue, eagerly waiting for him to let you in. As soon as he does, you could not be more delighted, something which is made extremely obvious by how excitedly your tongue greets Jungkook's.

There's no battle of dominance. Rather, both of your tongues entangle together as if dancing to their favourite song.

Your body starts to feel hot and you keep feeling the need to have him closer. When you part your mouth from his, it's not because you've run out of air, it's because you need to feel more of him.

An emotion which Jungkook replicates.

"You'd need support," his breathy voice reaches your ears.

"That's what the tree is for," you reply in a tone that's quite similar to that of his.

"The surface is rough, it'd scratch your back," he reminds you of the consequences of having your back against the tree trunk when you'll be naked later.

"Well you could always offer me your blazer," you counter, with a sultry smile.

Fuck.

Having been caught in the middle of turning into a wolf, he had to stop right away. Unfortunately, the fur doesn't disappear immediately. At that point in time, his main priority was not scaring you any further. Hence, Jungkook had grabbed the nearest thing he could find, to put on. Anything that could cover the fur until it disappears. Which so happened to be the black blazer he's now wearing.

The image that comes to his mind as a result of your words, is one which makes him come to the conclusion that the thoughtless choice of the blazer, is one of the best decisions he has ever made. After you, of course. But if he has to put the blazer to good use, he needs to get you naked first.

Kissing your neck with newfound vigour, he holds you firmly against himself as his hands start to wander behind your back to find the zipper that serves as the key to get you out of this dress.

Having found it, he wastes no time dragging the chain down and sliding your dress halfway down your shoulders.

You whimper when the cold air hits your skin, taking you by surprise. He kisses, nibbles and leaves his mark on the newly exposed skin and curses to himself when he realises that you're not wearing a bra. The new discovery entices him to slide the dress even lower so that he can get his mouth on your soft supple breasts.

His entire mouth dries up when your nipples are revealed and he realises how hard they have been all this while, as if just as eager to get sucked as he is to suck them. Wasting no time he puts your left breast in his mouth while playing with the right one with his other hand.

"Fuck," you throw your head back at the new sensation and grab a hold of his hair. It's when he sucks a little harshly, that you look at him with eyes filled with pleasure. You notice the deep frown on his face while he plays with your tits and it does something unspeakable to you, it makes you want to skip everything and just have him inside you.

He gives equal amounts of attention to the other breast and then when he feels satisfied with the work of art he's left, he decides it is time to wander lower.

He slides the dress off further, now exposing your stomach. His palm gently runs across the area and he leaves light kisses on his wake. The sensation makes you sigh for how in contrast they are with his previous demonstrations, which were rather rough and desperate. While these touches are soft and sensual, with a hint of teasing to them.

Finally sliding the dress all the way down, he looks at you with anticipation in his eyes, "Step out of it."

You oblige and step out of the dress that now pools around at your feet.

"The underwear too," Jungkook asks, dying to see you naked.

You smile a little at his words, understanding that he's getting impatient and you thrive in the thrill of what's to come. You hook your fingers around the band of your underwear and tug it down, getting rid of it.

Jungkook's pupils dilate seeing every inch of your skin exposed to his eyes.

He experienced the most vulnerable part of him getting exposed and it made him want to crawl inside a hole and never come out. Anything was better than you being scared of him, being disgusted with him or feeling betrayed by him. But here you are, willingly standing naked, right in the middle of a dense forest with eyes filled with want for him.

The wolf in him feels a deep fire ignite at the sight of you not shying away even though theoretically, anyone could step in at any moment and see the both of you in this compromising position. It assures him that you're not ashamed of him. It makes the beast in him feel accepted.

Although he would like to have you naked like this a little longer, he reminds himself that he needs to put the blazer on you, for you'd need support for the sinful things he wishes to do to you and truth be told, he cannot hold himself back any longer.

Removing the piece of garment, he drapes it on you. Taking a few steps back he curses when he takes in the full view of you in nothing but just a black blazer. His blazer.

You're a tad bit disappointed when Jungkook closes the distance, for you were enjoying the sight of his glistening chest but your disappointment is gone when you realise this allows you to run your hands all over his body.

You and Jungkook feel each other like you both are starved of touch and as if it's the air you need to survive. It's also while Jungkook feels every inch of your skin that he slowly and gradually, corners you against the tree, finally having you the way he wants to.

He litters kisses in a straight line from your neck to your navel and then gets down on his knees. The new position has his face right in front of your sex.

"Please do something," you plead, shivering when his exhale hits your core.

He merely hums, enjoying the sweet smell of your arousal that hits his senses. Using the tip of his thumbs, he gently parts your folds for your wetness to be revealed. "You smell so sweet, sweetheart."

"Do you want me to have a taste?" He continues, now locking eyes with you. A soft whimper from you is all he needs to put his mouth on your nether region.

He doesn't start gently, oh no, he straight away starts drinking all you have to offer as if he's been thirsty for ages. His tongue runs messily all over your insides, sometimes messaging your hole, other times stimulating the bundle of nerves that have you wildly arching your body with pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant repeatedly, the forest being the only audience of your sinful words. As much as you'd like to drag it out and take it slow, you don't think you'd be able to hold yourself from orgasming any longer. It feels like it's only been a minute since Jungkook started eating you out and you're already about to fall over the edge. But can you really be blamed when Jungkook has gone completely wild with his tongue down there? "Shit, I'm about to come."

Jungkook slows down.

His tongue all of a sudden, turns gentle, languidly cleaning up your arousal but somehow still holding the same amount of passion as before.

You're not complaining but the switch of pace has you craving more, because you oh so desperately, need to cum. "I need to cum, Jungkook."

"Not yet, sweetheart, I need your cunt on my mouth for a little longer," he whispers, his words which practically vibrate against your folds.

The words are on the tip of your tongue as to how he could have just started slow and gradually built the pace, rather than snatching away your high right when you were about to hit it. However, you keep the words to yourself when you realise just how much Jungkook is enjoying softly lapping at your essence as if it's his favourite treat. It also doesn't take your body long to forget the stolen high and to start enjoying the slow pace. This time instead of wild loud moans, soft gasps and broken whimpers leave your lips.

You know Jungkook is teasing you, he likes doing that. He likes giving you pleasure in a way, which with time gets a little too much and which has you begging for relief of any sort. It's not like you cannot cum like this, you can. After all, Jungkook is a little too good with his mouth but if you let go this way, the pleasure will be one that will hit you in the form of gentle waves. However, what you crave is a wave that hits you at once like a tsunami.

Hence, you beg. "Don't be gentle. Make me cum. Hard."

Your words are desperate, a plea to Jungkook for you will lose your mind if he doesn't let you have your relief. And that's all Jungkook wanted, for you to beg in a helpless voice. Feeling satisfied, he sucks on your clit harshly. To add to your pleasure he inserts two fingers and pumps them in and out at a slow pace until you get adjusted. Once you seem to have no difficulty with his fingers, he starts a ruthless pace, one which has you seeing stars.

While he fingers you with one hand, his other shimmies up and slides underneath the blazer to play with your tits. He squeezes your tits to his heart's content and pinches your nipples until your eyes roll back.

Your head thrashes wildly and you grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Jungkook has a bit of a dirty mouth. One which you clearly enjoy. And there's so much he wishes to say right now. He wants to tell you how sweet your cunt tastes, how tightly it's clamped around his fingers and what a sight you're from down here. But he cannot afford to not have his mouth on you, while you cum. That'd be such a waste. And if he were to go by the way your hole clenches around his fingers like a fucking vice, you're close. It only motivates him to increase his pace.

That paired with the stimulation he provides on your clit and your tits, has your whole body heating up and the very next moment it all explodes. You cry out loudly, and your grip on his hair tightens even more as the wave hits you like a tsunami, making you lose all control over your senses. All you feel is the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

Jungkook smiles against your cunt at the way you fall apart, thinking to himself, you for sure would have lost your balance had it not been for the tree you lean against.

He helps you ride your high and once you seem to have caught your breath, he places a few more kitten-like kisses before getting up on his feet.

You feel weak but you cannot not kiss him with everything that you have got in you. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips when you're greeted with your essence and it urges you to have a taste of him.

Your hands find their way to his belt and you attempt to unbuckle it. Jungkook chuckles against your mouth, noticing how your hurried actions, instead of getting the job done quickly, lead to you messily fumbling with the belt. Taking matters into his own hands, he stops kissing you for a brief moment to get rid of the belt himself.

"Fuck, thank you," that's all you say before roughly tugging his trousers down.

Your mouth practically salivates at the sight of his hard length that begs to be free from the confinement of his boxers. The dark wet patch against the piece of clothing serves as an invitation for you.

Thankfully, you do not have to put your patience to the test to get rid of his boxers. It's done swiftly without much struggle causing his length to spring out. You immediately have your hands on him. Collecting the precum from the tip, you rub it all over his length.

Jungkook groans right next to your ears, his breathing accelerates the more you run your hands on his cock. "Yes, baby, just like that."

You feel his tip leak more beads of precum and it adds to your desire of having a taste of him. "I need to have you in my mouth."

Jungkook stops you before you can get down on your knees. His lust-filled eyes, spark with a shred of amusement. "You will hurt your knees, baby."

It's only then that you are reminded of the fact that you're in a forest and that you indeed will end up hurting your knees if you were to get down on them on the forest floor.

"Then fuck me," you say with a gruff, a tad bit annoyed that you cannot have what you want, at this very moment.

"That I will," Jungkook chuckles darkly. Saying so, he presses his length against your folds. "Do you know how wet your pussy is?"

"Why don't you do something about it?" You mewl softly, enticing him to just fuck you rough and hard.

"Oh don't worry, darling, you won't be able to walk after this," he promises.

It isn't just his words that affect you, it's also the way he's looking at you. You have noticed there's something more carnal about him today and if you're not wrong it has everything to do with him not having to hide anymore. It's him expressing his need without having to hold anything back, now that he knows he's accepted and loved wholly.

"I'd like that very much." The sultry, seductive tone is intentional for you know that Jungkook plans on teasing you. But you cannot wait any further. You need to have him inside you now and you only wish you can make him as impatient as you. However, Jungkook seems to have understood what you're trying to do. It's not to say that your tactic doesn't work, it does. He starts rubbing himself against you faster but he's not willing to give in, just yet.

You make another attempt by pinching his nipples. In the various occasions that you've been intimate with Jungkook, you've learnt that those two buds are perhaps the most sensitive spot for him.

It's once again proved right when he lets out a low growl and the next thing you know he's pushing his cock inside you. "You couldn't wait a bit longer, could you?"

"When it comes to you, I do have a habit of becoming impatient," your voice comes out hoarse, the pleasure from having his length inside you clouding your senses. You just feel so full.

Jungkook hums in approval and once you give him the green signal, he builds up a slow and steady pace.

"Fuck baby, your cunt is so tight," the words are whispered against your neck, as you feel Jungkook gradually set up a brutal speed.

You tug on his hair harshly to get a grip on reality as your vision starts to blur. You whimper, wail, scream and cry his name repeatedly, all of which fuels Jungkook to go faster and deeper.

He notices the lightheaded look in your eyes and swiftly hooks his arms around your thighs to lift you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and secure your position.

The effects of your previous orgasm hasn't completely faded yet and from this angle, his dick hits the golden spot which makes your high approach faster than you had anticipated.

"Jungkook, I'm gonna cum," the words are broken and breathless.

The new information earns a few slow determined thrusts from him, before he speeds up again. His forehead touches yours and you feel the sweat that has built up on his skin. You notice the way he is so focused on your pleasure, on every moan that escapes your lips and every expression on your face.

It all gets to the point where you can't hold yourself back anymore. Throwing your head back, you reach another high and hold to any part of Jungkook that you can to hold onto your sanity.

"Baby your pussy just got so tight," he speaks in a hushed voice, the fucked out look in your eyes and the essence that he feels on his cock, as an after-effect of your orgasm, now making him chase his high.

"Cum inside me, please," you say in a weak voice, your cunt still convulsing.

"You know I'm a werewolf right?" He queries, with a dark look in his eyes. Receiving a nod from you, he speaks again, "Do you know what that makes you?"

"My mate."

That's the only warning you get before he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The sound of skin slapping makes you dizzy and you feel so desperate to feel him spill inside you. Thankfully, it takes a few more thrusts before he paints your insides with ropes of thick cum.

You both stay in that position, foreheads resting against each other as you breathe heavily, feeling totally spent.

"That was something," you mumble when you seem to have regained enough energy to speak.

"That was intense," Jungkook agrees, removing the strands of hair that had fallen on your face.

"I enjoyed it though," you smile up at him, finding it kind of silly how you ended up getting railed against a tree from running for your life.

As he slowly feels himself coming down from his high, he feels the disbelief resurface again. Did he just fuck you after you found out he's a werewolf? And you just let him and confessed to enjoying it? And are you still here looking up at him with those bright eyes?

"You're unreal," he sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling your sweet scent.

"You're the one who's a werewolf and you are telling me, I am unreal?" Your brows quirk up as you tease him.

"I–It's just unbelievable that you're still here–"

"So a good round of fucking wasn't enough for you to believe that I'm here?" Your words earn a small chuckle from him which soon turns into a warm smile when you place a kiss on his jaw. "There's never gonna be a good enough reason for me to stop loving you, Jungkook."

"I promise I'll never hide anything from you again," his nose gently rubs against yours.

"I hope you don't ever feel the need to," you hum. "But for now, you need to do me a favour and carry me on your back."

"Told you, you won't be able to walk after," he winks, with a proud look.

"That and the fact that I got a cramp due to all that running."

His worry is immediate. "You got a cramp? Why didn't you tell me? Shit, did I hurt you while having sex?"

"Nope, it didn't cause much trouble," you shake your head to ease him. It's the truth, the cramp doesn't seem to have had much of an affect. It's only when you try to stretch you legs, that it causes the slightest of sting.

"Let's head back, I'll massage the area for you, that should help," he comments as he quickly starts collecting the clothes that you two have dropped on the ground without a care.

Once he has his trousers back in place and has collected everything that is needed, he asks you to hold the clothes. Then swiftly, in the blink of an eye, he is picking you up in bridal style. A surprised gasp escapes your lips but it soon turns into giggles when you realise that Jungkook's upper half is still unclothed and you get exclusive access to it on your way back.

"Walk slow, take as much time you need," you quip, your hands slowly and dramatically inching closer to his chest.

He rolls his eyes, pretending to be done with your silly behaviour when in reality, it's one of the things that he so dearly loves about you.

He knows you tend to get sleepy after sex and the only reason you're being this talkative and playful, when your body is probably trying to doze off, is because you want him to be at ease. You know him a little too well and know that in your silence, he will probably overthink again. Its not just your words and touchy hands but it's also this unspoken thoughtful gesture, that makes Jungkook finally relax and let go of the notion that you'll regret or change your views about him.

Oh, how dearly he loves you.

Bless whoever had started the rumour about the documentary. Had it not been for them, he would not have you in his arms right now, making him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Gosh, he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

#jungkook x reader #Werewolf Jungkook #Jungkook smut #Jungkook angst #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook au #Jungkook scenarios #Jungkook ff #Fic: vérités cachées

612 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 2 months

Note

could maybe possibly do a blurb of farleigh being protective of bestfriend!reader like maybe someone was talking shit about her and before felix can even defend her farleighs beating him to it? idk if that makes sense but i love love LOVE your fics you’re SO GOOD at writing felix

this is the kind of thing farleigh would do by accident while drunk and then the reality of the situation would hit him so hard he'd decide to be sober for at least a week 😭

sidenote this was sooo fun to write omg

"Okay so it's--" Lacy (or Lizzie, or maybe even Lyla, Farleigh lost the girl's name at some point between between round 3 and 5) giggles as she squints at the tab. "It's--if we want to do an even split..."

She had been so happy to race to the bar when Felix first brought up leaving and continuing the night elsewhere. As if being the one to physically pick up the tab and hand over cash and cards to the clearly irritated bartender would cement her place, would make her a part of the night's inner workings.

The desperation had been so apparent that when Farleigh nudged your arm, you immediately whispered a sharp, "Stop it." You only react that strongly when you're already fighting for your life to keep your halo shiny.

"Hey." You extend the single syllable, voice hinting at a tipsiness that could explain your boldness. You're not exactly shy, but you tend to let the main group do as they please, content to do whatever as long as Felix is by your side. It's nauseating, but reliable.

"Do you mind if..." You trail off, lifting a hand to gesture towards the receipt. Lacy blinks, giving you a look that Farleigh's gotten used to. A subdued, jealous disdain.

Your ignorance would be endearing if this was some made for TV romcom. But it's not, so even though Farleigh knows that you mean your end of night comments that reek of insecurity because the new girls never like you, he'll still poke fun of you for it.

You let go of Felix's arm, walking forward until you're close enough to Lacy to read over her shoulder. You glance at the receipt, and then at the group. In less than a minute, you're announcing, "47 each."

Farleigh has been around you long enough to no longer be surprised. Tipsy division loses its shock value after awhile, and if Farleigh knows you well enough to no longer think twice about it, Felix definitely has no reason to be impressed. That doesn't stop Felix from beaming at you, expression truly lovesick. It's sweet enough to make Farleigh's stomach ache.

"A genius," Felix breathes, extending his arm as far as he can without falling off his stool, "My girl's a genius."

You try to glare, but there's too much softness in the look. "Am not." A response that could technically apply to the 'my girl' part as much as the 'genius' part. There's a hopeful beat in which the girls that aren't used to competing with you for Felix's attention seem to be waiting for a clarification that never comes.

Farleigh's lingering nausea is slightly alleviated by Lacy's pout. She must think that the praise and Felix's undivided attention should be hers. That they would be, if it wasn't for your interference. The thought feels laughable. Felix would have just as easily paid off the entire tab to avoid a frustrating debate. He isn't complimenting the solution, he's complementing you.

Felix pulls your hand towards you, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. "Next round's to you."

What's left of Lacy's mask of indifference crumbles. She glares briefly before remembering her place.

"Next round's somewhere else." You manage the correction through a soft giggle. "You wanted to go, remember?"

Felix blinks twice before nodding. Farleigh has a feeling that Felix's quick concession is more a result of his cousin's faith in you than his own memory. "Yeah, we're going..."

"To Austen's place, I think." Felix tugs on your arm, his attention more focused on squeezing your hand between both of his than actually figuring out what he's moving the group for. "It's closer to campus, he promised you weed."

Felix nods again, this time the motion a little more assured. He pulls on your arm gently. You laugh. "Lex."

"What?" The question is a halfhearted attempt at feigning innocence. Felix's free hand finds your other forearm. "Come here."

"Wait." Despite your protests, you do nothing to escape his grasp. "I have to--I have to go to the bathroom before we leave."

Felix frowns. Farleigh resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Y'want me to go with you? Show you where it is?"

"I'm okay," you mumble, voice sweet and slow as honey, "Stay here, figure out the cash thing. I'll be right back." Carefully, you untangle yourself from Felix's hold. "You have my purse, right?"

Felix lifts the small bag off his lap, a genuine hint of pride coloring his expression. The two of you get more unbearable by the day. "You need it?"

"No, but you can take out my wallet so no one has to wait for me to get back."

Okay, Farleigh actually has to roll his eyes at that. It's a routine that you insist on, trying to pay even though it's clear that Felix would rather you not even attempt to touch a wallet. That's what makes the least sense about you, Felix lets you get away with not giving him what he wants.

"It'll be settled by the time you get back."

Your eyes narrow at his wording. "That doesn't sound like--"

"Lovie, go before we leave you here."

An empty threat. Felix would sooner lose the group than abandon you for a second. You roll your eyes, but seem to accept defeat. "You're impossible."

Farleigh smiles to himself before you can disappear into the crowd, "Kept woman, are we?"

You flip him off without looking back. The joke is typical. The topic would be cruel if you couldn't afford to keep up, but you're from enough money to sustain your own nightlife. You're not from a wealth that equals the Cattons, but the father you're always hesitant to mention works in finance. Farleigh doesn't have the details, but it's clear that you're comfortable enough to not need Felix's charity. Unlike Oliver.

"Was it just me or was that '47' a little...?"

To Lacy's credit, she's smart enough to realize that openly insulting you would only alienate Felix, so instead of embracing the clumsiness of her friend's comment, she brushes a strand of hair off her shoulder. "She's nice," she hums, "A little loud, but nice."

"Loud as in her voice or what she's wearing?"

Vultures picking at bones, too ravenous to consider tact. They'll attack whatever they can think of in an attempt to cope with the fact that you're the one with Felix wrapped around your finger. Farleigh knows that's all it is, and yet it digs at him.

Your outfits, your uncertainty in certain social situations. Those are all fair shots, fair comments for Farleigh to make.

"Clara," Lacy mumbles, an attempt at virtue signaling.

"No," the patience in Felix's voice seems to drain them of their good humor, "Answer the question. Explain what you meant."

Lacy laughs once, the sound awkward and strained. Her uncertainty is oddly gratifying. "Oh, nothing, really." She tilts her head, eyes innocent yet alluring as she stares at Felix. "She's sweet, really Felix, I like her. She's darling." The last sentence is said the same way one would to describe a puppy. "But she--she's not like us." Lacy takes a step forward. "C'mon Felix, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

"Lacy means," Farleigh's own voice surprises him, "That she's the kind of girl you actually go home with, and Lacy isn't."

Wow. Okay, technically true because you do go home with Felix, it just--accuracy feels like the least important part of what just came out of his mouth. Farleigh can't tell who's more shocked--Lacy and her gaping friend, Felix, or himself. Did he--did he just defend you of all people?

He blinks. You, the voice of reason that's always willing to point out when gossip crosses the line between catty and cruel, who maintains a 4.0 without trying, who paints their nails bright colors, who scrapbooks. That's who Farleigh stood up for?

This could be the rockbottom alcoholics always talk about.

"Lizzie," her friend begins sharply, "I think our--our friend's waving us over."

With that, Lizzie-not-Lacy and her friend abandon their places by the bar in favor of the anonymity of the center of the bar. Farleigh's too distracted by self disgust to note their expressions.

Felix steps towards him awkwardly, eyes unable to meet his. "That was--uh, good of you, mate."

Farleigh lets Felix's praise have its usual affects for a brief moment, embracing the warmth as Felix throws an arm around his shoulders. Then, reality hits Farleigh all over again. One word about this, and you'll be making him a friendship bracelet. "If you tell her about this, I'm telling her about how you didn't shut up about her all of Christmas break."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

370 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 9 months

Text

Bucket List

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: soul shredding, crying so hard, etc.

Request: no but I felt like crying so here ya go. If you have a specific scenario you would like to cry too, please request it. I love off human tears

Summary: her body loved to contract problems. Charles is determined to stay by her side.

Warnings: soul shattering, talks of illness, not proofread because I can’t edit and cry at the same time… I am not that talented

Notes: idk why I did this to myself…

Masterlist

Some people are just naturally drawn to tragedy. Though, for most, it's unwilling. This is the case for Charles Leclerc.

He fell in love in an unexpected way. At the hospital. Falling into her on accident.

It was 2015, he was still a child, in his way out from visiting Jules. He was teary eyed and lost in thought.

Until he fell on top of her. The pills in her hand flying everywhere.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He scrambled back to his feet and helped her up. The two trying to pick everything up.

“It’s okay, really, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

They got everything picked picked up, then they looked at each other. Really looked at each other.

She smiled. “No offense but, you look like shit and I feel like shit. Wanna make it up to me with lunch?”

They spent the rest of the day together. Charles learned their the same age. She wanted to travel. She’s dying.

It was terrible to learn. He didn’t know how to react.

“I’ve accepted it. I want to live before I die.”

His heart knew what he should do, but his mind didn’t want to let her in. Jules was already on the verge of leaving him. Could he do this again? If he was able to help her get closure, maybe he could find closure with Jules. It was a dumb idea. A terrible idea, really.

“Come with me. I travel a lot for racing. We can do whatever you have left in your bucket list.” He blurted before he could think about it more.

She smiled. “Sure.”

They became fast friends. She followed him to every race. Her parents were apprehensive at first, but they saw how much she wanted this and they weren’t going to deny her.

They tried to go as many places as possible with her, but work always caught up with them. The Leclerc’s became her second family.

She was able to help Charles through Jules eventual death. He cried for days. His races were getting increasingly difficult. The pain behind his eyes was evident.

She stayed with him. Comforted him. Made him keep going when he wanted to quit.

It took time, but Charles got there. He kept going. It was because of her.

Charles dragged her around the Paddock. She was know as his best friend. Pierre often teasing the two about it. The French constantly nagging Charles about when he was going to confess to her.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want too. He had fallen in love with her view on life. How she wanted to enjoy every second. They were able to do that together.

He could tell though, her body was steadily getting weaker. Her lungs struggling to to breathe. Yet she didn’t waiver. Her smile was contagious.

He took her to see every monument. She tried every food. They took a ridiculous amount of pictures.

Then it happened again.

Charles didn’t understand why it was him. How he attracted so much death to the people around him.

His father was sick during his formula 2 career. It was difficult for him to get through, yet somehow he came back stronger. She’d helped him with Jules and again with his father. He couldn’t help thinking she was some sort of guardian angel. Sent specifically to him for this reason.

They both broke down when he won that race and dedicated it to his father. Joy and sorrow mixed into their sobs.

Then he kissed her.

When he signed his formula 1 contract, he thought he was dreaming. This notion led to him doing things he wouldn’t normally with the newfound confidence. Including kissing her.

She kissed back.

He’d helped her cross everything off her bucket list; Including falling in love. She’d known for awhile but didn’t want to push anything. They both knew what was coming. They knew her time was limited.

So they made the most of it. Charles took her out on dates whenever he could. They did things that weren’t even on her list. They watched every movie they could think of.

She smiled through it all. The doctors didn’t think she would live this long. The medication she was on was doing better then expected.

Charles didn’t want to waste any time though. Neither of them knew when her time would come. Everyday was a blessing.

When he signed with Ferrari, he knew he wanted to marry her. He would have never made it here without her.

He gave her everything. A proposal on the beach, a wedding that made her feel elated, a caring husband who was there on her hardest days.

She was around the paddock so much that everyone knew her. Everyone wanted to be around her. She was filled with life even though she knew she was knocking on deaths door.

It had been a cloudy day. Rain dripping down the window. She was drinking hot chocolate and reading a book. It was her favorite kind of atmosphere.

She’d been feeling terrible all day. Thankful that Charles had time off for the winter to help her around.

They had friends visiting. Pierre, Lando, and Max had come to stay for the week.

It was crazy to her that Charles was going into his fifth year in F1. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d get to see him through this far. She felt blessed for it.

She felt so exhausted. Yet she still smiled when Charles came over and kissed her head.

Everything was so bright. It felt warm and comforting. Like Charles embrace. She could feel him holding her.

She wiped a tear from him cheek.

“I love you. Don’t forget it.” Then she smiled. Somehow she managed to catch a glimpse of his smile.

Her gaze moved to behind him. She saw Jules and Charles father. They were greeting her.

She knew what was happening. She could stop it.

With the last of her strength, she kissed Charles. Then let herself be embraced by the warmth.

It had been a month. He’d been grieving his loss. Barely talking to anyone. He’d lost his smile.

The funeral was hard. The entire grid had shown up. To mourn her and support him.

It felt like so much time had passed and was frozen simultaneously. He was struggling to take care of himself.

He was angry with life for constantly taking away his loved ones. It wasn’t fair. He wanted more time with them. With her.

Arthur had been staying with him. When he couldn’t, Pierre would. They tried to get him to get out of the house. Nothing they said seemed to help him. They knew it was going to be slow.

Pierre had come into his dark and messy room. Taking a seat at the end of his bed. “I wanted to let you know that they finished the grave stone. We don’t have to go see it today though. Whenever you’re ready.” Then he left.

Charles was ready to go in ten minutes. He looked tired and broken, but he was up. He needed to see her. Something to provide him with closure.

Pierre drove them to the cemetery. Stopping to get her favorite flowers along the way. When he parked the car, he didn’t get out. “I think you should have a minute to talk to her.” Then he pulled out an envelope from his pocket. “She asked me to give this you when you were ready.”

Charles shakily took the envelope and made his way to where she now rest.

It didn’t take him long. He’d spent hours choosing exactly where he wanted her to eternally rest. Close to the river that flowed through the cemetery. Underneath the shade of a large tree.

The words written across her grave made him choke out more sobs.

Y/N Leclerc, loving wife, lover of life, may your smile still be contagious from above the clouds

He gently sets the flowers down on top of the stone. Then he just sits. He doesn’t care in the ground is cold and wet. It feels natural to sit with her,

He opens the letter Pierre handed to him. Scared to read her words. Her handwriting looked a littler rushed. She’d written poetic words of comfort. Love seeped off the page.

She’d made him a bucket list. Things to do after she was gone. And at the very bottom: find someone to smile with.

She looked on at him. Her hand grazing his shoulder. She was glad the letter made him smile despite the tears.

“He’s going to be okay.” Jukes smiled from behind her.

“I know, he’s strong.”

Herve places a hand in his other shoulder. “You taught him well.”

“I think we all did.” She chuckles.

“Thanks for taking care of him all these year when we couldn’t.”

Dear Charlie,

I know my time is running out. I can feel myself getting weaker by the day. I know it’s not fair to you that I have to leave so soon. Regardless, the time I’ve spent with you has been the most amazing thing life could have blessed me with.

Remember that life gives you rough patches so you can appreciate the smiles that much more. Remember that your friends and family love you just as mulch as I do.

Don’t mourn for me, because I’m not gone. You can find me in the memories, the laughs, the tears. I’m with you, always.

I’ve taken the liberty of creating you a new bucket list. You can complete this in your own time, don’t feel rushed to do so. I just want you to remember that there is still life for you to live.

Learn how to cook

Stargaze from the track

Visit every state in America

Win the WDC

Find someone who makes you smile

Love your favorite person,

Y/N

P.S.: I’ll make sure Jules hasn’t been causing trouble in the afterlife

449 notes · View notes

a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 year

Note

heyyyyy idk if you do this sorta thing

if not totally fine but I still wanted to ask

Can I request something like headcannons of how ghost would react if maybe like a German reader met and got along w könig and maybe he would get jealous or possessive or something or just how would that go

take that to mean whatever you want 😈

sorry and thank you again

Jealous Ghost

I'm not one for like toxic possession or toxic jealousy, however there's a good middle ground so I tried.

A little suggestive at the end, jealous!Ghost, probably projecting my own abandonment issues here

It took a while for Ghost to get close with you, but just like Soap you somehow wiggled your way through his walls

You two became friends, sharing a lot of your spare time together

Both of you bonded over your different cultures too but it never really became something that either of you focused on

Soon, Ghost caught feelings and because of that he forced himself to keep them locked up tight no matter how much he wanted you

That was until König showed up

Ghost treated him the same as he always did with others, baseline respect and enough politeness to keep him as a co-worker

Then you met König and things started to change

You talked with him often, bonding over similar cultures and mostly speaking in German to each other

You both brightened up, you started spending time with him too and he couldn't help but think you felt more comfortable around König than Ghost

Ghost started to feel weird whenever he saw you two together, a mixture between sadness and anger, almost betrayal yet he told himself you had no obligation to stay friends with him

He started to pull back from spending time with you, suggesting you should go find König or he was busy

He felt out place when you both hung out and then König showed up

He started to resent König for no other reason than the fact that it felt like he was stealing you from him

Yet, Ghost said nothing to you. If you were happier with König then he had no right to ruin that for you

However, you noticed him pulling back and you were determined to fix whatever happened because you missed him a lot

You finally cornered him after his countless attempt to get you to go away

"What's going on with you?" You demanded as Ghost stared at you.

"I'm busy." He lied and it would've convinced you if you didn't know that he was done with all of his work for the day

"You're avoiding me."

Ghost didn't say anything, knowing that he was caught because you're too smart for him to trick

"Ever since König showed up, you're been acting weird." You said, feeling sad about the fact that your friend was slowly pushing away from you. "Why?"

As much as Ghost wanted to continue to lie to you he had to come to terms with his feelings

"You both have a lot more in common and he makes you happy. Guess I was just letting you both be together." He said and you looked up at him with shock.

Ghost was smart, but you've come to known that he forgets to just use his brain

You liked him too and you had only seen König as a friend

"Idiot." You rolled your eyes and Ghost glared at you. "I like you not him."

"What?" Ghost wasn't sure if he heard right or not until you repeated it. "Oh."

You both stood there for a second, unsure of what to do before you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket

"Are you going to kiss me?" You wondered, hoping he would

He didn't hesitate to and after a long make out session, you broke apart breathless, an idea in your mind

"Make me yours." You whispered in his ear

And he didn't disappoint

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost

813 notes · View notes

tavina-writes · 1 year

Text

I started writing an essay in the tags of a post that was not strictly related to this topic but started getting me thinking and realized I should just. Make my own post about this because I have kind of been sitting on this frustration for a while? And mmmm idk how to feel about this.

(For the record, the post that inspired this is this one.)

I want to make it clear UPFRONT that I am not knocking on ANYONE's interpretations of NHS or about having gender headcanons about a character in general. I think people can headcanon NHS as whichever gender they like because those interpretations are fun and exciting and I like to read about those too.

What I have been getting progressively iffy on, and am not entirely clear on how to express until I came across the above post is the idea that 'NHS is femme-coded because he has femme-coded hobbies' or 'NHS is very gender/gender nonconforming because he likes to paint and doesn't like exercise/practice his saber' or 'NHS is not very masc in comparison to his brother and people in his society put him down/are irritated with him/react to him differently because his gender presentation is more femme.'

And I think what's always kind of boggled me about interpretations like these that I've mentioned above is because...

Hobbies like keeping birds* and painting and calligraphy and poetry** and being well dressed and fashionable*** were strongly masculine coded scholar gentry hobbies for bored rich men**** in historical China. People react to NHS they way they do in text (at least from what I can understand of the social norms of the MDZS jianghu) because NHS is determined to be a particularly foppish dandy and also yknow, actively wailing about his many problems.

So, I think the tldr of this is that: NHS can be interpreted as whatever gender people would like! But his society and his peers and the other characters are not reacting to him in a certain way because he's femme-coded, they're reacting to him that way because he's an irritating asshole and kind of foppish (affectionate)

*keeping birds (as pets and not like, just raptors for hunting) was a rich man's hobby in Ancient China from at least the Zhou dynasty, though which birds were popular as pets (everything from parrots to orioles) differed depending on the dynasty, but the Ming and Qing dynasties were extremely big on pet birds in rich people's houses in particular.

**it is unclear if NHS is particularly good at say, painting or calligraphy OR poetry but the point is that he appears to like these things

***men's fashion has been a wild beast throughout the ages both in the east and the west, and men have done things for fashion like wearing gaudy archer's rings to show off archery skills they didn't have, high heels, Song dynasty men wore flowers in their hair, and my own personal unfavorite: the Qing Dynasty queue.

****the four gentlemanly arts were for example: qin qi shu hua -- playing the qin (music), weiqi (Go if you want to use the Japanese name for the game), shu (calligraphy), and hua (painting). See brief wikipedia summary about the four arts here. There were different things also included in the education of an aristocratic gentleman in pre-imperial China but we have no time to delve into that in this post. HMU for more info if you want it because I love to talk about historical things.

#nie huaisang #meta #my meta #again I'm not trying to say don't headcanon him a certain way #headcanon him whatever way you like!!!!#I too LOVE a good gender exploration #but people canonically react to him the way they do because he's IRRITATING AS FUCK (affectionate)#and not bc his hobbies are gnc #they're actually really gender conforming 😔😔😔

727 notes · View notes

kissohee · 5 months

Note

hiii ! omg i haven’t used tumblr in years and i love love loooove your blog, it’s amazing !!

i was wondering what you could write about in a situation where sohee and y/n are studying for an exam in the library and y/n starts teasing him under the table and IDK YOURE MAGICAL YOULL FIGURE OUT THE REST I LOVE YOU 🩷

sohee x reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 1.7k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! warnings; y/n has no personal boundaries, exhibition, handjob a/n; thank u so so much! lyt! ❣️

When the professor announced that an exam would be held about the current topic you were learning in class, you were in no doubt very nervous. You hadn't exactly understood the topic very well, so you knew if you didn't do anything about it, you were more than likely going to fail. Thankfully there was a classmate of yours who happened to really understand it, and you've heard from so many people that he really likes you too. So you jumped to the opportunity to ask him to help you study.

Which led you to now. Sitting in your schools public library, with books sprawled all over the table you were using. Sohee sat besides you, typing away on his laptop, marking off things you guys need to go over.

"We should probably go over this. Professor said it'll 100% be on the exam." He says, opening one of the books, trying to find the topic in it.

"Sure, whatever you think we should." You couldn't help but admire Sohee from up close. Yes, you've heard about him liking you from everyone but you never really saw anything in him. Until now. And you have no idea if it's because he's helping you or because he is just really cute. In fact, you think he's so cute to the point where you start imagining what he'd be like if you touched him. Probably whiney, might move a lot, or maybe he's just completely unpredictable. And you sure as hell wanted to find out. When he doesn't look, you place your hand on his thigh, pushing off it to stand up and stretch. When you look at him, you see him looking at his thigh, where your hand was, before balling up his hands out of nervousness. "Want to take a break?" He asks, looking up at you as you stretch. "No I'm okay!" You smile at him when he nods, and you sit back down, closer to him than you were before. Which he notices, because you see him take small glances at you through the corner of your eye. Your hand going right back on his thigh, trying to find any way to make it seem like you weren't trying to do anything on purpose, "I like the way your jeans feel.!" You take the opportunity to softly rub his thigh, fingers getting closer to his crotch and he nervously smiles. "What are they made out of?" "Uh," He freezes, "Normal jean material?" He is visibly confused on why you're acting different than you were before. You move your hand so it's near his crotch, taking notice to the way his bread hitched and how he freezes what he was doing. However, he tries very hard not to react in an obvious way. And you just keep it there, which confuses Sohee even more. In the back of his mind, he's praying you don't move your hand anymore than you already have. "Sohee, what about this one?" You pretend to act confused, dragging your hand up to point at the book, your fingers softly making contact with his bulge as you do. His hips shifting slightly from your fingers, a boner growing in his pants. He could almost die right now. You probably didn't even mean to touch him like that, or at least you were acting like you didn't. "Nevermind, I remember it was addressed in that one book." You pretend to look around for it, "Oh right, it's in my backpack." Your backpack, which just so happens to be on the chair next to him, has him quickly going for it. "Here, I'll-" "No it's okay, I got it." He sits back down in defeat and watches as you lean over him, reaching for your backpack. He feels you accidentally rub against him in the process, making him bite his lip quickly to avoid making a sound. When you finally grab your backpack, which felt like eternity to him, you sit back down in your chair. Pretending that nothing happened. Sohee though, was internally panicking. He's sitting in the library, helping the person he really likes.. study, and yet he is sitting here, with a boner. This is the most pathetic he has ever felt in his entire life. So he opted to just covering it with his sweater, and he's never been so thankful for him picking a sweater 2x his size.

However, it was hard to ignore the way he would shift in his chair every 2 seconds because of how uncomfortable he felt. Plus, he liked the feeling he would get of his pants rubbing against him every time he did. "Are you okay?" You ask him, pretending to be oblivious to the mess you started, which almost angered him. "Uh huh." He responded short and quick, trying to avert your attention back onto the stacks of books you guys had but you look at him with furrowed eyebrows instead. You look at his hands, which are in his sweater pocket, helping to pull it over to cover his bulge. "What are you doing?" "Nothing!" He yells quietly, remembering you guys are still in the library. "Let me see!" You place your hand on him again, causing him to jolt. "What?" You move your hand to reach for his sweater but he quickly holds it down. "No!" He says louder than he meant to, and he takes a quick look around to make sure no one was looking. "Sohee," You whine, "It's not a big deal!" "But," his grip on his sweater loosens and his voice gets smaller, "It's embarrasing." You grab his sweater and push it up a little, revealing how hard he was. When you look up at Sohee, he's avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but at you. When you place a hand over his growing cock, he grabs his sweater to cover it again. "Please don't do that." "Sohee," He shakes his head and sits up straight.

"There's people.." He looks around again, as if trying to prove the fact that other people were only a few feet away from you guys. "They won't know." You whisper into his ear, sending shivers down his back. "It must hurt a lot." He nods, his face bright red from embarrassment. "So please let go." The second you say that, he let his hands fall to his side, allowing you to once again lift his sweater. "Pretend you're reading or something so people don't think anything weird." He immedeatly grabs one of the books sitting on the table and starts pretending to skim it. However, he loses his focus the second your hand is placed on his bulge again. And he swears he could see stars when you started moving the palm of your hand in circles on it. His cock is so hard, you swear it could break his zipper open so using his sweater to cover, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out. "You did this on purpose.." He looks at you, his eyes soft. "What.?" You softly rub your thumb against his slit and he holds his hand above yours, hesitant on stopping you. "All the te-teasing." He softly drops the book on the table, giving up on trying to look like he was reading it. His attention fully falling on you. "Yeah," You let your thumb run against his slit again, "But you're not mad, right?" "H-how could I b-be..." He stammers over his words when your hand starts pumping him fully. Allowing him to finally feel the pleasure he's been wanting to for the past 10 minutes.

His head falls back, and he starts shifting his hips to the same pace as your hand. His teeth holding his bottom lip, failing when he lets out a small whimper only you could hear. "You're so cute," you tell him, looking at him with a smile while he's clearly struggling at keeping quiet. When he whimpers again, it's a little louder than before. "Shh, Sohee.." You stop moving your hand, "We're still in public. You don't want to be caught, do you?" "So-sorry..," He bucks his hips up into your hand, asking you to continue. "Please please please..." He almost forgot other people were around you guys, but he couldn't care. He just needs to cum, and if others are watching, then so be it. He lets out more soft pleads until you start moving your hand up and down his cock again. Adding your thumb against his tip every once in a while. His hips lifting up to fuck your hand, and you let him. Wiping off the sweat that falls from his forehead. When he notices that you stopped moving your hand again to let him fuck up into it, he takes his and forces you to move it. He's just using your hand at this point, and he feels himself get closer. "F-fuck please continue...." "Are you close?" He immedeatly responds with quick head nods, his eyes closed shut. The longer you look at him the more you wished you hadn't decided to do this in the library of all places. "You look so..." You trail off, "I really wish I could kiss you right now." When you said that, Sohee felt his heartbeat speed up at a rate he didn't know it could go. He would love to respond, or maybe even kiss you, but he just can't find the strength in him to do either one. "Shit.." He can't believe his about to cum in public, and yet just thinking about that is helping in getting him over the edge. "Y/n... Ahh.... Ah fuck.." He whispers out moans as his hips twitch, you help him ride his high. He feels his cum warm against his skin, watching as your hand comes out from under his sweater, covered in it. When he finally gets ahold of his breathing, he looks around for a tissue of some sort but when he couldn't find one, he takes your hand and cleaned it off using his sweater. He could just throw it in the wash the next time he does landurary. "Let's get out of here." Sohee stands up, adjusting himself. "Why?" You look at him confused when he starts grabbing your stuff. "It's your turn."

i hope this was good! ik these type of fics are written a certain way but i wanted to change things up a bit. 😵‍💫 - 🐠

#𐙚 anonies #𐙚 naakzak #riize smut #sohee smut #sohee x reader #𐙚 riize talk

287 notes · View notes