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#it was a surprise but at the same time it wasn’t
ghoulphile · 2 days
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run rabbit run | c.h/the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 869 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, mildly dubious consent (kinda?), dom!coop, bareback, cum play, degradation kink, biting, pet names (bunny), man-handling, doggystyle, drabble, coop's gotta fuck you full so the ferals can't smell you ➥ summary | "the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time" ➥ notes | do not look @ me rn 🫣 i feel like i've exposed myself too much lol masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
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He found the rabbit among endless dunes of rock and rubble; a frightened, jumpy little beast that required a firm hand to tame, and an even steadier one to control.
And while it would’ve been easier to dump ‘em at Super Duper Mart -- get his caps worth, pounds of flesh for vials of chem -- he took a shine. Now, what exactly it is about you that captured his attention so thoroughly, he can’t be sure (though he could hazard a few guesses).
What he does know is this: if it wasn’t for him, you’d have been killed a million times over by raiders, fiends, and ferals alike. Always finding your way into trouble as soon as his back is turned.
Like now.
So if he’s a little rough with you, it’s only because he had to haul ass half-way across the flooded district when he heard you scream.
Nevermind the hard lurch of his heart, the sensation of his stomach droppin’ to his feet. You were supposed to be safe, holed up in the building he cleared yesterday.
Surprise, surprise; you decided to go poking where you shouldn’t, and now he’s gotta rescue your dumb ass. Skidded around a bombed out building only to find you fighting off a small pack of ferals, their rotted hands scratching at your arms and their teeth gnashing at your face.
Goddamn it.
Same shit, different day.
“What did I fuckin’ say?” he snarls, chapped lips pressed tight against your ear as sharp hip bones rut into the softness of your ass. “You’re dumber than shit sometimes.”
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - hhahh, slow down - didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Your hands scramble for purchase, nail beds aching from how hard you’re digging at the dirt.
Shoved onto the ground, pants sagging around your thighs as a stray rock digs into your cheek, scraping up the tender skin. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”
The Ghoul snorts, delivers a stinging nip to the tip of your ear. Your reedy whine soothes some of the agitation but he’s still bristling, aggression threaded through with tendrils of panic he refuses to acknowledge.
“I highly doubt that.”
You hiccup, knees spreading wide as your back dips - trying to get away, to get closer.
The fat head of his cock keeps hitting your cervix with every stroke, little fissions of pain kissed pleasure racketing up your spine as he stretches you past your limits and fucks you open.
Your gummy walls swollen and raw from the constant friction of his shaft, the rad burns scraping your insides up. Clit aching and so wet you’re dripping, a damp patch of earth beneath you.
“No, promise I’ll be good!” You pant, the scent of sunbaked soil and stagnant water heavy in your nose. “Please, please, please.”
Everything aches, limbs sore from your tussle and pride bruised as sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.
A hand clamps down on your hip so hard bones grind, yanking you back into every punishing thrust. Heavy balls smack against your clit on the in-stroke, stoking the embers of your desire. Your toes curl in your boots.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, bunny.” The Ghoul grabs your elbow with his free hand, tugging you up into his chest so his chin hooks over your shoulder, breath puffing along the side of your cheek. “You just don’ know when ta learn. So I’m gonna have’ta teach you. An’ I’ll do it as many times as it takes, you hear?”
You sniffle, nuzzling the back of your head against his face. “I mean it,” you say. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know there’d be any ferals around. Was just trying to find some more food.”
Groaning, his hips kick forward in a softer grind, still so deep you feel him in your stomach - pussy filled to the brim with cock - but not as harsh as before. As close as you’ll get to an apology until he’s done.
“This is your fault - you got ‘em all riled. Now, we gotta make you smell like me so take your punishment like a good bunny 'fore I decide ta eat you instead.”
And you do, letting him rut into you until he’s satisfied, aching and so swollen by the end of it that he has to bully his way in with every thrust, your pussy clamping down and milking him for all he’s worth.
When he finally does pump you full, you’re dumb and dripping. Limp limbed and sagging into the ground - only held up by the cage of his arms. Thighs shaking and clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat as he wrings every last bit of pleasure out of you.
“Sometimes,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch as his cum oozes out of you in a sticky rush, dripping down your folds, “I think dumb bunnies like you are only good fer one thing.”
You whine when his thumb whispers over your clit, caressing your folds as he gathers up his spend. Gently fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. 
“But that’s all right, I like ‘em a lil dumb.”
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wishlistcharles · 3 days
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secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1
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max verstappen x perez!fem reader
genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 3.1k
song: too sweet - hozier
sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
♡♡♡♡
The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 
It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 
A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 
Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 
Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 
You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.
Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 
A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 
“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”
With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 
Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 
As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 
“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.
“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 
“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.
“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 
“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.
“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 
Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 
“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 
Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”
“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 
“You are really close with them, aren't you?”
“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 
“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.
“Do you want something to drink” he offers
“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 
“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”
Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.
“Is there something on my face?” You laugh
“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”
“Really? How so?” You question
“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 
“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 
“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 
He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 
You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 
Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 
He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 
You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 
“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 
Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 
You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 
“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.
You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 
“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”
That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.
You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 
“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 
You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 
You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.
As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 
Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.
That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.
Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.
The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 
Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 
You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 
You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 
You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 
The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 
Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 
After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 
Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 
Simple. You won't. 
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joonberriess · 2 days
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w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s
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⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo
⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k
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It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.
The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?
Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.
But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.
Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?
You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.
“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.
“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.
“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.
“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.
“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.
It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.
You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”
“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.
You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.
It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.
After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.
It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.
Are they though? I don’t know.
“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”
Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.
“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”
Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.
Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?
Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”
“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.
“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”
Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”
“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.
“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”
Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”
Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”
You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.
Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”
“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”
He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.
“No.”
“y/n, don’t–”
“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.
+
It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.
You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.
“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.
“..y/n?”
“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.
“Where are you?” He softly replies.
“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.
“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”
You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.
“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.
“Yeah..”
“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.
The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.
“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.
Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.
“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.
You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.
“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”
You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.
You just wanted him.
“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.
“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.
“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”
He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”
“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”
“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”
You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”
And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?
“I know.”
“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.
You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”
Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”
“Okay..”
“Okay.”
+
You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.
Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.
It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.
Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.
Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?
There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.
“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”
“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.
“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”
“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.
You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.
“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”
“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.
Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).
It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.
“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”
“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.
“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.
“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”
Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”
“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.
“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.
jk: outside
You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.
“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.
“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.
“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.
“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.
He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.
That’s it.
.
The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.
It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.
You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.
“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.
“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.
You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.
Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.
“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.
He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.
The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.
“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.
You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.
“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.
“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.
Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.
Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.
“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.
Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.
“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.
Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.
You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.
“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.
Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.
“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”
“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.
Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”
You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.
“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.
“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.
“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.
He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..
“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.
He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.
“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.
You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..
“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.
You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.
Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.
+
“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.
Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”
“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—
“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”
Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—
Holy shit.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.
“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.
Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”
“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.
Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.
“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”
Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).
“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”
“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.
“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.
They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.
You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?
“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”
Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.
+
“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.
“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”
“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.
“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.
“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.
Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”
Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”
“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.
Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you’ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.
“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.
“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.
Yes, yes, yes—
“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?
Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”
“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.
You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.
you: come over
You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.
jk: rn?
you: yea, really want to see you
jk: me too.
read.
It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.
After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.
“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.
You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.
“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”
You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.
Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.
You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”
“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.
You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.
“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”
You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.
“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.
Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.
“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”
“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”
“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.
Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.
You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”
Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.
He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.
“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.
Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.
You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.
He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.
Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.
“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.
You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.
“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.
Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.
“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.
“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.
He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.
“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.
Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.
“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.
You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.
He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.
“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”
You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.
“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.
Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.
The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.
“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”
He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”
Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”
“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.
“No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”
It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.
“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.
“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”
It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.
Just you.
“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”
“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”
You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.
When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?
You fucked up, again.
+
Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.
“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”
“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”
They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.
You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.
The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?
‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’
Do it, do it, do it, they chant.
Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”
“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.
“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.
“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.
Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.
“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”
You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.
“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.
“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.
There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.
Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”
“It’s not like that–”
“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.
“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.
“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.
Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”
Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?
It makes you sick to your stomach.
“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.
Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.
All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?
As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.
“y/n–”
“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.
“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”
“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.
He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.
“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.
You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.
“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”
Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”
You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”
“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”
“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.
“Yeah, I guess so..”
He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”
You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.
For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.
+
One year later.
“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”
“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”
You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.
“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.
You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.
“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.
It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.
You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.
There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.
“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.
You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.
Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.
Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.
My love, I won’t wait for your love.
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kingkatsuki · 2 days
Text
One day Bakugou will tell you how he feels about you, but today is not that day.
No but really, why do girls always type the most filth with the straightest faces while the guy on the other end is probably losing his shit😭😂
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“Why do you even bother with this shit?”
You don’t even attempt to shield your phone, it’s nothing that your boss hasn’t seen a million times before. Your face is bored as you swipe through the options, leaning against your desk with your coat and bag on ready to leave the agency for the day as you wait for Bakugou.
To most it was probably peculiar for you to be leaving at the same time as the number two hero, but it had become almost a tradition for you to both grab gyoza at the small ramen bar down the street each Thursday after work. It was a place that Bakugou had found by chance one evening when he stopped a petty villain stealing the cash register off-duty. An act that wasn’t forgotten by the kind owner who offered him free gyoza for life— but he’d always leave his money on the table. The food was good, and the atmosphere quiet, just how he liked it. And you had too the first time he’d invited you after your train home was cancelled.
It almost felt like an unlabelled date night, the two of you laughing over gyoza and asahi away from the stress of the outside world for an hour before he’d walk you to the station and wait for your train before making his way to his platform. A slew of food photos and selfies saved in your phone that could indicate a blossoming relationship if they were posted on your socials, and not saved in your camera roll. And perhaps it could be a date— if Bakugou would ever admit his feelings for you.
“Look at what he said to me the other day,” Your fingers scroll up on your phone screen and Bakugou takes the opportunity to look at the way the light shines off your cheeks, feeling that familiar warmth begin to burn like it always does when he thinks of you, “It was so embarrassing.”
Bakugou squints at the screen, trying to read the text without his glasses as his face swiftly contorts to disgust. He doesn’t need to read the whole message to know the guy is an absolute fucking douchebag—
“He wants to what?!” Bakugou’s blush tickles the tips of his ears as he pulls back to make eye contact with you, “How would you even get in that position?”
“You’d be surprised—” You laugh, light and airy, and it has Bakugou leaning against the side of your desk to stop himself from tumbling forward.
“I refuse to believe that works on anyone.” He snorts as he shrugs his own coat on, switching the light off as you both walk towards the elevator.
“Call it the best of a bad bunch,” You laugh, stepping into the lift as you show him the screen again. This time it’s a conversation that has his throat dry as he immediately focuses on your messages. Just the right amount of innocence piled high with implication as he thought about you texting him like that.
“Guy sounds like a fuckin’ loser,” Bakugou plays it off, jabbing the ground floor button with a little more aggression than necessary as the doors close behind you.
“He seems okay,” You mumble, “He works at Deku’s agency.”
“Definitely a loser then.” He sneers.
“Stop.” You grin at him, and Bakugou has to stop his heart from leaping from his chest from how hard and fast it beats.
“What rank is he?” Bakugou scrunches his nose. He better be at least top twenty before he even thinks about having a chance with someone as perfect as you, and even then that wouldn’t be enough.
“He’s still a sidekick, actually.” You laugh, “I got enough Pro-Hero stress dealing with you.”
“Ya better not be thinking about jumping ship.”
“You know I’d never.” You reply truthfully, “I’m a Dynamight girl til I die.”
Bakugou’s cheeks flushed pink at your admission, heart swelled with pride as he let your words stroke his ego.
“Yeah, ya better be.” Bakugou watched in amusement as you kept a straight face as you texted him back, wondering whether you were keeping the conversation sweet or suggestive. Would you look the same if you were texting him like this? Bored and uninterested as you spewed word after word of crass dialogue. He hoped you’d enjoy it like he would, sending flirty messages that would have him grinning at the screen.
“You’re replying to him wantin’ to eat you out with a straight face.”
“Yeah,” You scoffed, “The best of a bad bunch, I guess. At least he hasn’t asked for any nudes yet.”
Bakugou scrunched his nose in irritation at the thought of anyone getting to see that. The selfish part of him wishing that he could be the one that you’d send those photographs to. Posing in the prettiest mesh and lace as you posed for the camera, or maybe sending him a video of you strewn back against tousled sheets. Fingers buried inside your wet, warm heat as you cried out his name.
“You’re textin’ the wrong people,” He shakes his head, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, “You deserve better.”
“Where am I gonna find better?” You smile over your phone screen towards him, “Especially in this city.”
“I think you’re looking in the wrong places.”
“Wherever I look I just find the same stupid guys.” You sigh, shoving your phone away as you walk towards the exit, giving a smile and wave to the evening security guard as Bakugou nods his head.
Holding the glass door open for you to walk through first, “Yeah, we suck.”
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luveline · 4 hours
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would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 
“No. They gave me tramadol.” 
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 
“You okay?” 
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 
“I’m your Unit Chief.” 
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 
“I’ve been busy.” 
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 
“I wish I did something that sensible.” 
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 
“Not enough.” 
“No, I guess not.” 
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 
“It wasn’t purposeful.” 
“No? That’s good.” 
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 
“Morgan’s a big boy.” 
“As opposed to me.” 
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 
“I don’t like him,” you say. 
“As opposed to me.” 
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 
It’s an obvious lie. 
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 
“You can finally get some rest.” 
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 
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usereddie · 9 hours
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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.
hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.
“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”
Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it. 
“Him being queer?”
“I think he identifies as bisexual.”
“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”
“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”
“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”
He sits. 
Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal. 
A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl. 
But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch. 
“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.” 
“But you knew?” 
“I wasn’t surprised.”
He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him. 
Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel. 
Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is. 
He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t. 
It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—
Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be. 
“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him. 
“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly. 
He swallows. 
“Yeah.”
Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself. 
He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—
Well. 
Buck. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it. 
Buck came out and it uncovered itself. 
Buck is bi. Buck dates men. 
Buck could date him. And he isn’t.
That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck. 
He makes him so fucking happy. 
Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression. 
Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing. 
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly. 
“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”
“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“That’s not my place to tell you.”
“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“Yes.”
Eddie’s exhale is shaky. 
“Yeah. Me, too.” 
368 notes · View notes
foreingersgod · 2 days
Note
Can you write kate Martin x reader that she’s completely whipped by but they get into an argument and Kate says something she didn’t mean?
Wedding Planning . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: kate says something she doesn’t mean and it puts your relationship at risk.
A/N: guys i think this is my favorite kate fic so far
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
it had felt like you’ve known kate for a lifetime, having been together for 5 years. so naturally, when she proposed to you on your anniversary, you could hardly contain your excitement. there were tears, kissing and laughing (and the best engagement sex ever). it was the absolute best night of your life.
since you were a little girl you had dreamed of your wedding. you were obsessed with wedding dresses and falling in love, constantly imaging what your life was going to look like. when you’d play outside you’d make wedding bouquets out of wild flowers, or when you would draw portraits they’d always depict you walking down the isle. now that you were grown and engaged to the love of your life, you couldn’t wait to get started on planning the wedding.
kate, although she was equally ecstatic to get married, wasn’t as keen on wedding planning. she was more laid back with decisions and didn’t have any particular opinions on how she wanted it to look. ‘just as long as you’re happy, babe’ she would say. you didn’t mind all that much, in fact it made your life easier. you had full reign to make your wedding exactly how you had pictured it.
on the downside, it felt like you were doing this all alone when you really wished it was something you two could do together. you just wanted to sit down, after kate came home from practice and you from work, and look through different flowers and centerpieces. you wanted to do cake testings and pick out color schemes. but kate’s answer was always the same when you asked: ‘whatever you like, i like’.
you knew that possibly couldn’t be true. kate was an open book and you knew literally everything about her. there had to be at least one cake flavor she despised or one flower she didn’t like, there’s no way she was fine with anything. sometimes you felt irritated that there weren’t any disagreements about the wedding, she accepted any ideas you threw her way and it really bothered you. planning a wedding, throwing a party in honor of your love for one another, should be about what both of you want.
it had already been months since your engagement and the wedding was rolling around quicker than expected. within days, you became stressed and overwhelmed. there were still so many decisions to make, so many people to call, so many things that still needed to be made perfect. these past few weeks have been incredibly hectic, and to no surprise, you felt isolated and alone. perhaps it was just typical bridal anxiety, or maybe it was the fact that your fiancé wanted nothing to do with helping prepare for your big day.
one late night, around 12 am, you sat on the floor of your shared living room. you had came home late from a night shift at work, waiting up for kate to come home from a night out with the team. with the wedding being so close you decided to spend the extra time tying loose ends and checking things off your to do list. you always waited for kate when she was out late, it was near impossible to sleep without her, so you didn’t mind.
there were folders and binders spread on the coffee table in front of you. little scraps of color samples and inspiration pictures took up every square inch, various phone numbers and addresses also scattered every which way. to any outsider, it’d seem like chaos, but you enjoyed the sweet moments of wedding planning.
not long after you organized the floral section of your wedding binder, you heard the lock of the front door click open. it was followed by the creak of the hinges and heavy footsteps. you looked over from your spot on the ground, seeing kate drop her bag at the door and kick her shoes off. she was tired, you could tell, but still buzzing from hanging out with her teammates.
“hey, baby! you’re home!” you smiled as she approached you. she leant down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before setting down on the couch that you sat against.
“hey,” she was slightly out of breath. she was leaning over your shoulder now, eyeing the mess on the table “wedding stuff? this late?”
“yeah, i wanted to keep myself busy while i waited for you”
“gotcha” with a monotone response, she was already dismissing you and pulling out her phone. she didn’t ask about what you were arranging or what folder you were working on, but instead she was checking instagram?
it made your blood boil slightly, the way that she was completely clueless to anything wedding related.
“want to help me?” you asked, looking back at her “if you’re gonna be up for a little longer, i’d like the help”
“you know me, babe. i’m really not good with that, you’ve got the eye for all of it” she didn’t even bother to make eye contact with you.
“really?” you choked back a scoff, torn between wanting to be mad and confront her or letting the matter roll over.
“what do you mean ‘really’?” now she was paying attention, typical.
“don’t worry about it, let’s just go to to bed” you pushed yourself off the floor, putting on your slippers and heading for the stairs. before you could move, however, kate had grabbed your wrist gently to keep you in place.
“well i am worried,” her face contorted to any angry frown “why are you mad all of the sudden?”
“because kate, you’re pissing me off”
“what the hell did i do?”
you wanted to scream, the emotion starting to build up inside of you. for months you had been annoyed with how she left all the wedding stuff for you to do. how she didn’t even want to be involved in this made you feel like you weren’t doing this wedding to proclaim your love, that you were really just doing it for yourself.
it wasn’t your intention to pick this fight tonight, but oh god did you just want to get it all off your chest.
“i’m pissed because you don’t even want to help with this wedding, kate! you can’t even sit down with me for 5 minutes and help me organize a fucking folder”
“that’s not true i-”
“no it is!” you didn’t even want to hear the bullshit that was bout to spew from her mouth. she remained on the couch, jaw clenched in anger as you cut her off “every time i ask you to do something, you blow me off and leave me to do it by myself! you have no interest in doing any of it with me”
“babe, i’m just not good at that stuff. i thought you wanted to plan this?” she was chewing at the inside of her cheeks now, you could tell she was trying to avoid this conversation.
“with you! i want to plan this with you! but for some reason you want no part in it! i have asked time and time again for a little help in hopes that you’d become interested in it. because in all honesty, kate, i don’t even care about the wedding being perfect. i just want to do it with you! i want you to care and to go to run wedding errands with me, i want you to want to do it with me, but you don’t even give a shit!”
her face started to turn red with annoyance, eyes pressed shut. her large hands covered her face as the ran down her cheeks. she was practically huffing as she sat there listening to you completely hound her for her disinterest.
“you haven’t even asked me about what flowers i decided to go with or shown any fucking interest in my god damn dress. my dress, kate, the part that i’m most excited for. you don’t even care about that and it hurts. and you dont ev-”
“jesus, i don’t care about the fucking wedding, YN!”
she could have just punched you right in the face, it probably would have hurt less than hearing her say that. your heart dropped, noticing how she was seething in rage. jaw still clenched, hands tugging at the roots of her hair, trying to calm herself down.
your eyes welled with tears, body frozen as you tried to process what just happened. she she really not care at all? it didn’t take long for the tears to start spilling, running down your cheeks in heavy cascades. a sob struck your body, you tired to bite your lip to hold it back but it was no use.
“great,” you muttered. she finally looked up at, body softening when she realized what she said “glad i know how you feel”
“baby…” she stood up abruptly, trying to come over to you.
“save it, it’s clear that you don’t care about the wedding” more sobs took over you, it killed kate to see you like this. she was kicking herself internally for even thinking that. why did she say that?
“if it’s really that big of a deal” you stepped back when kate tried to reach for you hand to apologize “then let’s just call the whole thing off”
“YN, no” she begged, tears of her own building up “baby come on, i didn’t mean it, don’t say that”
“why not? i mean you don’t have any interest in it. like at all, not even enough to spend time with me to do it. so let’s just call it”
“i don’t want to call it off” her lips contorted to a frown “i wouldn’t have proposed if i didn’t want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. honey please, i don’t want to call it off”
“you’re not acting like it” is all you could say, you were truly speechless at this point. “why scream at me that you ‘don’t care about the wedding’ when i’m trying to express my feelings to you if you don’t want to call it off”
“because i’m a fucking idiot” her voice wobbled as she began to cry. the pattern of her tears mimicking yours “i don’t know why i said that, it’s not true even in the slightest. i’ve just been so stressed with everything recently and stuff with the wedding has just been so overwhelming, but at the end of the day i just want to marry you, baby. that’s no excuse, i’ll admit that i haven’t been a very good fiancé”
“no you haven’t” you crossed your arms, wiping away some of your tears “i know things are stressful…and i get that, but you don’t even seem interested. like you don’t want to do this with me”
“i do,” another wave of sadness washes over her “i think i’m just scared. things are happening so quick and change makes me nervous…our life is so perfect and i’m worried that i’m gonna fuck it up somehow. whether it’s planning the wedding or being a shitty wife, i feel like im going to fail”
“kate…” you swallowed deeply. it sent another pang to your heart knowing that this is how she felt all along “is that really how you feel? like you’re going to fail?”
she nodded, sniffling as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment. you ran over to her in an instant to pull her into your arms. she collapsed into your body, arms wrapping around your waist, chin sitting atop your shoulder as she cried to you. your hands rubbed her back smoothly, letting her get all of it out.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry that i’ve been so shitty” you could feel your shirt dampen with teardrops “you don’t deserve any of this. i can’t believe i said i don’t care, i never meant it, i swear”
“hey hey hey,” your hand now finding the back of her head, running your fingers through her hair “it’s going to be ok, i get it, we can work past that. but the last thing i want is for you to feel like you’re going to be a shitty wife. baby, i don’t think you could be a bad wife even if you tried”
“you’re just saying that”
“i’m not! i mean it! you’re the love of my life and i think you’re perfect inside and out. i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t accept every part of you. we’ll have ups and downs like everyone does, but that doesn’t mean i don’t still love you and it certainly doesn’t make you a shitty wife”
she released you from the hug when you took ahold of her shoulders. you ran your palms up and down her biceps before moving to her face, fingers grazing her cheekbones.
“it’s going to be ok, alright?” you cracked a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you got up on your tip toes.
“i’m sorry, i love you so much” she pulled you in for a real kiss, this time, lips coming into contact with yours.
“i love you too”
after that night, kate made it her mission to change. she started helping out more, like you had asked, but she was also doing things on her own. kate picked out her suit, called the wedding photographer, and a handful of other things on your list. it was clear to you now that she just needed reassurance. it was going to take sometime to recover from what she had said to you, but you knew none of it was true and it was something you could work past.
you just wanted to marry your girl.
and marry her, you did.
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alexias-putellas · 12 hours
Text
between us (3) // a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
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a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
part one part two
-
you were walking onto the pitch, a few paces behind alexia and jenni when someone jumped on your back. you yelped and stumbled forward, gracefully falling face first onto the grass. the only people who reacted were the younger girls—who weren’t yet used to your clumsiness—and ingrid—who was quick to yank mapi off you and hold out her hand.
she helped you up and you quickly kicked mapi’s ankle before running away from her, laughter falling from your lips as she gave chase. she eventually caught you and wrapped her arms around your waist, swinging you around as ingrid walked over.
“maría please put her down, we have camps soon and i don’t want her to go back to england injured.”
mapi rolled her eyes and lowered you to the ground but her grip never relented. “oh how will we survive without you for months? how will jenni and alexia?”
you squirmed in her grip, not liking the thoughts her words put in your head. she let you go and you scampered off to stand nearer pina and patri but far enough away that you could get lost in your head without interruption.
a frown unconsciously appeared on your face. you worked out the dates in your head and felt your shoulders sag. after flying to england with lucy and keira, it could be two months before you’d see your girlfriends in person again—depending on how well england and spain did in the tournament. and they’d see each other everyday.
what would that mean for your relationship? what if the time they’d have alone made them realise that they preferred their relationship the way it was before you came along?
part of you knew that you were being silly but it was an insecurity you’d been secretly harbouring since the beginning of your relationship, always worrying that one day they’d wake up and decide that it was too crowded.
would you even have girlfriends when you got back from england?
a soft slap to the back of your head brought you back to earth and you looked up to see a slightly concerned alexia already looking down at you. “estás bien?”
“yes,” you nodded, clearing your throat and giving her a small smile. “fine.”
it was clear that she didn’t believe you but she didn’t push. and when the first paired activity of training finally came around, you watched jenni and alexia pair up. with a quiet sigh, you made your way over to leila, thankful that she didn’t already have a partner.
when the second paired activity was called out, you were surprised to see alexia head over to mapi. with a quick glance at jenni, you took the opportunity to jump onto ingrid, missing the way jenni frowned.
“you okay?” ingrid asked you, having noticed your subdued behaviour since your interaction with mapi.
“i’m good.”
you knew that ingrid would have a good inkling as to how you were feeling, she went through it with mapi but it wasn’t the same really. they only had each other. there was no third party to worry about in their relationship.
so you didn’t confide in her like you wanted to. instead you decided to grin and bear it for the rest of the training session.
your girlfriends knew something was wrong with you with the way you avoided their gazes and ducked away when one of them began approaching. but you were great at avoiding people. and you had successfully managed to avoid your girlfriends until jenni caught you—literally.
“amorcito, where are you going?” she asked, the grip around your waist tightening as you tried to wriggle out.
“uh, home.”
“without us?”
you wriggled again. “i’m going out with pina and patri, need’ta go home and get ready.”
technically you weren’t lying. the pair had invited you out, you just hadn’t officially accepted yet, throwing a maybe in their direction when they first asked just before training started.
jenni’s grip loosened and normally you would’ve asked her what was wrong but you took advantage of the opportunity and bolted, throwing yourself onto an unsuspecting patri as you disappeared around the corner.
“i told you,” alexia sang out as jenni turned to look at her. “she is avoiding us, she is not going to tell you anything.”
a rushed hiss caught their attention and they saw ingrid pushing a terrified looking mapi forward. “i think it might be my fault.”
“ay dios mío, what did you do?”
ᡣ𐭩
you entered the apartment later that night, immediately hearing noise from the tv. you kicked off your heels and made your way towards the living room. your body froze as you saw alexia and jenni cuddled up on the sofa.
you were torn.
on the one hand—after a few drinks—all you had been thinking about most of the night was going home to your girlfriends but seeing them like that brought the feelings from training back and you found yourself not knowing what to do.
“hola, amor,” alexia said as you finally walked in. she turned to look at you, resting her chin on jenni’s shoulder. “how was dinner?”
“it was good,” you smiled slightly. “but i’m really tired so i’m gonna go to bed. enjoy the movie.”
with that, you scampered into the bedroom and away from the curious eyes of your girlfriends. you took off your makeup and slipped into a random hoodie you found, quickly dropping onto the bed.
you weren’t lying to alexia. you were tired. but you’d much rather have been cuddled up between your girlfriends than laying in bed alone.
when alexia entered the bedroom, she was genuinely surprised to find you curled up, fast asleep. she frowned and sat next to you, placing her hand on your forehead. you had just come back from an evening with pina and patri. usually that left you full of energy and your girlfriends would have the relentless task of wrangling you into bed so for you to willingly be doing the complete opposite was a bit worrying.
“well you are not sick,” she sighed, brushing her hand over your hair. you squirmed a little, eyes fluttering open. “hola mi vida.”
your face scrunched up and you murmured something unintelligible, reaching up to move her hand onto your face.
“bebita, i need you to stay awake, we need to talk,” she pulled herself away, ignoring your whine and the way you reached for her again. she watched the frown form on your face but you quickly turned away. “bebé, we talked to mapi. we know what she said. why did it make you so sad?”
it was a simple question. had you not been tired and a little tipsy, you would’ve brushed her off and gone back to sleep. but your feelings weren’t simple and you were crying before you could stop yourself.
alexia was quick to pull you up, holding you tight against her chest as your body trembled. she rocked you from side to side, rubbing your back soothingly until your sobs turned into shaky breaths.
“don’t want you to leave me ale.” you whispered, fisting her hoodie in your hands.
“it is not for long,” she whispered back. “we will be together—“
“no, no. leave leave! i don’t want you to leave me.”
before alexia could respond, you were swiftly pulled into jenni’s arms as she placed herself onto the bed. “mi amor why would we leave you?”
“because you were together before me and you’re going to be together all the time at camp, i don’t want you to realise that you love each other more than you love me. i’m going to be alone and you’ll have each other just like before. what if—what if you get used to it again and you don’t want me here anymore?”
neither jenni or alexia could remember the last time they’d seen you look so small and vulnerable. maybe it was your first time at the barcelona training grounds where you’d glued yourself to keira and lucy. maybe it was at the most recent champions league final where you shoved your silver medal into jenni’s bag so you wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.
“cariño that would never happen,” alexia brought her hand up to push your hair away from your face. “we love you too much for that to happen.”
you sniffled, looking between them. “promise?”
“nosotras prometemos.”
whilst you still weren’t completely convinced, there was still a warm feeling in your heart and when jenni laid you down and you ended up in your favourite place—tangled between them—you knew that you’d be alright.
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Text
A Father’s Love?
Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well
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“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”
Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.
Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.
But sometimes it was unavoidable.
“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.
“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”
Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”
“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”
Dean ran a hand over his face.
“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”
Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.
“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.
“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.
“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.
“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.
“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”
Somehow, apathy was even worse.
“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.
“What? You said leave you alone.”
“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.
“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”
“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”
But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.
“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.
“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”
“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.
“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.
“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.
“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”
“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.
“I mean your just a little pest!”
“Stop it! Just go away!”
Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.
“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.
“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.
You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.
“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.
“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”
“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”
That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.
Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.
“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”
You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.
“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.
“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.
“Ok,” he said firmly.
Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.
The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.
You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.
“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”
“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.
“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.
“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.
“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”
“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”
“Fell?” Dean frowned.
You nodded. “In-in the shower.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”
“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”
Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.
“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”
The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.
“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.
“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.
“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”
“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”
“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”
“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.
“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.
“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”
Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.
“I understand.”
You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.
“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”
“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”
Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.
“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”
“Ok Uncle Dean.”
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@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl
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anadiasmount · 16 hours
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u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3
no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: request above!
wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.
you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.
everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.
“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.
“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.
“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.
“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.
you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.
jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”
“hate you? why would i hate you?”
“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.
hate you? that’s impossible.
“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.
“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”
“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.
“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.
“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”
you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.
he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.
jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.
“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.
the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.
your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.
you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.
you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.
you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.
a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?
the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.
“you’re lying to me…”
“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”
“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.
“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”
“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”
“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.
“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.
“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.
“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.
“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.
“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.
two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.
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lilyisclueless · 3 days
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When they realize they're in love - Gojo Satoru
How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. Satoru's turn
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader
Tags: Fluff, that's about it
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He isn’t sure when the two of you got as close as you did. He’s known you for years, being one of the first ones to greet you when you transferred from Kyoto to be a teacher here, and ever since it’s been a gradual growth. It was a steady growth, but so slow that by the time he picked up on the fact the two of you were close friends, his only option was to accept that after years of goofing around and not allowing anyone close, he’s finally made another friend. A serious friend; not just another comrade putting up with him.
That realization happened a few years ago. It was a surprise but he accepted it. Since then the two of you have grown even closer. He’s grown to admire you, and you’re one of the very, very few people that he had any ounce of respect for. It wasn’t like you were incredibly strong, although you definitely could hold your own, so he wasn’t sure why.
Maybe it was the way you understood his ideals, how you wholeheartedly supported them and defended him. When he had told you that he wanted to let the vessel of Sukana live, you immediately agreed to vouch for him. You didn’t question him, didn’t ask if he lost his mind. You didn’t make a face or doubt him. He didn’t have to convince you. When he asked why you were so quick to agree, you smiled up at him and told him that you trusted his judgment completely, and if he was wrong about Itadori; you trusted he would deal with him.
That had left a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest he couldn’t shake off for the next couple days.
Maybe the admiration came from how you took care of the students. You care about them the same way a mother would about their children. You would surprise them with sweets and gifts, always making sure everyone got their favorite. If they needed someone to talk to, you were the one they went to. He’ll never forget the way you broke down when he had to break the news that Itadori had died. That was the first time he held you in his arms, and if he didn’t want to kill the higher-ups before, he certainly did then when he was feeling you fall to pieces between his fingers.
Naturally, he didn’t hide it from you when he woke up. Maybe it was the fear of what happened with a certain someone in the past, but his soul didn’t feel at ease until he saw the way you melted in relief at seeing their student standing again.
Or maybe it was the way you matched his energy. Or the way you can soothe his emotions with ease. Maybe because you could take his jokes, and throw them right back at him. Or how you weren’t afraid to goof off, claiming the world was too bleak to be so serious all the time. Sometimes you would have to rein him back in, but only when he needed it.
There were a lot of reasons for him to respect and admire you, but none of them felt quite right when he asked himself why.
“I know I’m always telling you to shut up, but it’s weird when you actually do it,” you speak up, breaking his line of thoughts. He glances down at you, the two of you walking side by side to find a soda machine. It was rare for the two of you to go out for any other reason than a mission or supervise the kids, but today was the rare exception. He glanced down at your outfit, and he couldn’t help but think you looked cute, but you spoke up again before he could dwell on that, “What’s on your mind?”
His smile twitches, the corner of his lips tugging into a playful smile. He looks away from you, staring straight ahead as he hums in thought at your question. You could barely see his blue eyes peak from over his sunglasses, but you definitely could make out the teasing glint in them.
“I’m just wondering why a girl like you chooses to spend her time with a guy like me.” You felt your cheek grow a little warm, and you’re quick to look away with a nervous chuckle. Where was he going with this? “After all, I’m the strongest and you’re the weakest. How are we supposed to-“
He’s cut off with a small ‘oof’ when you give his shoulder a playful punch, completely throwing him off guard. You hadn’t moved your body to indicate you were planning on trying to hit him, simply swung your arm straight to the side.
He stopped walking then, rubbing at the spot you’d hit him. Not because it hurt, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He could handle a little punch that held no real intent behind it. No, because he was shocked you actually managed to hit him.
He’s allowed you to touch him before of course, so you don’t realize how significant that moment was. Because every time you’ve touched him in the past, he’s allowed it. He’s put his infinity down purposely. This time? You simply skipped through. He felt the moment your hand touched it and simply kept going.
The last person who could ever do that was…
You stopped moving, shuffling to face him with a curious expression on your face. He could still see a hint of red on your cheeks, and you tilted your head to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me I wounded you with that little punch? Who’s the strongest one now?”
He wishes his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt flustered. He forced himself to resume his walking, purposely reaching down and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. As he expected, you immediately start complaining and become distracted trying to put those pretty strands back into place.
His long strides put him a good distance away, and he laughs when you have to jog to catch up. The two of you fall into a playful banter, which eventually trailed off to a comfortable silence.
No wonder it didn’t feel right to say he respected and admired you for all that you do. He respected and admired you because he loves you.
He wonders when he fell in love with you, but he has a feeling it was just like their friendship - so gradual that he’ll never be able to pinpoint it. That’s okay though. He’s tired of taking it slow with you. Soon, he decides, he's going to take you on a date.
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sykostyles · 1 day
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melodies | 1.1
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summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 4.5k
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warnings: fluff, suggestive?, cursing I think
a/n: hi babies! thank you all so much for the love on part one! I'm thrilled you're all enjoying melodies! I can't wait to bring you some more! i'm always working on this story so updates will come as they're completed! <3
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Ellie offered to close for you so you could go home earlier and take your time getting ready. The only thing Harry told you was to dress comfortably. He said he wants to show off his cooking skills instead of someone elses, and this way he can make sure nobody is around that shouldnt be around. 
Lately Harry had been dealing with a problem, but he wasn’t about to be telling you that. He already knew your apprehension towards dating him because of his status, he didn’t want to chance scaring you off before he had a proper chance of making you happy.
Someone had been trying to get close to Harry, trying to learn information and sell it to his number one enemy, Scott Jones; another prominent mafia boss in the area. He wanted Harry’s contacts, warehouses and secrets. Everyone wanted Harry’s contacts. Everyone wanted his status. They wanted the power. Harry had it all. The money, the loyal men, the status, the everything. The only thing he didn’t have, was the girl. But oh did he find one, and oh was he obsessed with her. But she wanted very little to do with him. 
Until now.
He picked you up at six on the dot, nevermind how he got your address. You’ll just have to thank Ellie later. She’s also the one who slipped him your phone number, but she refuses to admit it. 
“You look lovely. I love the matching sweatpants.” Harry grins down at you, taking your hand in his and offering a kiss to your knuckles, just as he did yesterday.
“You told me to wear something comfortable, and it doesn't get much more comfortable than sweatpants and a hoodie.”
“No, no. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out. “I said comfortable, and you–.”
“Calm down, Styles. You didn’t offend me,” you chuckle at his anxiousness. It’s a little surprising to you.
“Oh. I know,” he half laughs. “Are you ready?” you nod in response, and he opens the car door. You don’t miss the line of cars behind his as you get into the front seat.
The drive to Harry’s estate doesnt take super long. A couple of winding roads, a gate with guards, and a long driveway later and you're there.
His kitchen is set up with the best of the best; every tool and gadget you could ever need. “I was thinking we could make something together. Ellie told me your favorite thing to make is pancakes, and those happen to be my specialty,” he says, guiding you into his home. 
Tall black cabinets adorned with gold hardware and a black marble countertop. Everything is so sleek, and elegant and perfect you're almost afraid to exist in the space. But it’s so warm and cozy and inviting at the same time. He’s got candles burning on the counter top and on the coffee table in the living room; which also has black furniture and dark walls. 
“Did she now? What else did she tell you?” you ask, leaning across the kitchen island looking up at him on the other side.
“I guess that will be revealed in due time, my love,” Harry smiles over at you. He pulls the ingredients from the cabinet, and the fridge. “She said to make sure strawberries were involved or to not even bother,” he chuckles softly, placing a carton of fresh berries on the counter. 
“That’s a little dramatic, but strawberries are the best topping for pancakes,” you take the knife as he passes it to you, softly rolling your eyes at his “Careful, it’s sharp.” and you don't miss the way he clenches his jaw when you say “Ok, dad”, in response.
“So, what made you say yes to ‘Mr. Big Mafia man’ after all my months of pining for you?”
“First of all, you were mostly pining for my piano. Second of all, I got some advice telling me to live a little and here I am doing that,” you pop a strawberry into your mouth after cutting the top off.  Harry opens his mouth leaning down next to you, silently asking for a berry. You slice the top off another one, raising it to his lips for him to take. He smiles as he chews it, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time; making your skin heat up in silent anticipation.
“Sweet,” he mumbles, licking his lips after he swallows, “Very.. sweet,” his eyes flicker down to your lips, but he snaps out of it at the sound of you clearing your throat. He clears his in response, “Right, I wanted the piano. But you were the real prize,” he says, trying to regain his composure.
“Just because you heard me sing?” you effortlessly cut the strawberries into slices, setting them to the side as you spoke with him. Harry was on your right, mixing the batter together, plus the dash of cinnamon you threw in–“That’s my secret,”--you blush over at him as he eyes you.
“Nah. I was interested in you before that. Your “playing hard to get” attitude feels like a challenge.”  His words make you scoff. “The singing voice is just a plus.”
“I’m not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. And I think if anything, the last year is evidence of that.” you’re grinning to yourself as you continue your task.
“Sure is,” he mumbles to himself, but loud enough for you to hear, making you grin. “But that’s okay, I like a challenge.” He turns away from the counter, leaning to turn the stove on.
“You certainly are the most persistent person I've ever met.” leaves you in the form of a chuckle. You hate to admit how flattered he make you feel by being so adamant in trying to know you
“I don't know, you were pretty persistent on not letting me take you on a date. And about that piano of yours.” He starts dripping the mix onto the surface, creating perfect circles. 
Of course. 
Insert eye roll here.
“Hey, you agreed to not bring up my piano if i sang for you,” you watch him work effortlessly.
“I agreed to stop trying to buy it. I still intend to tease you about it. Although I would appreciate some help in finding a piano that’s as nice as that one.”
You’re startled by a voice that isn't Harry’s. “Sir, there’s been developments.” Harry’s demeanor changes in front of your eyes. His gaze finds the man near the entrance of the kitchen and immediately hardens.
“I said, no interruptions. Are you aware of what that means?” his tone makes your blood run cold. You’ve never seen him this way before. He’s always been goofy and kind to you, sure he demands his men’s respect and can get them to do whatever he wants with the snap of his fingers, but this is different,
“Y-yes, sir, but this is impo–”
“Enough, Liam. Take it to Niall and Mitch,” Harry demands. “I’ll decide what to do with you later. Now leave us.”
“Yes, Har–Sir. Yes, sir.” the man says, leaving in a rush.
“He’s new if you couldn't tell,” Harry jokes, demeanor switching back in an instant. 
“You don’t have to talk to him like that, you know,” you toss a strawberry into your mouth.
“In my line of work, I do. But let's not focus on that, I know you don’t really care for that side of me and that’s okay.”
“Yes, please just keep me in the dark on all of that,” you chuckle, “I don’t need anything else on my conscience,” your words make him laugh. But you also notice the look of worry laced behind his eyes.
“So does that mean there will be a next time?”
“Mm, too early to tell Mr. Mafia man. But I am enjoying this so far.” you offer him a soft smile.
The two of you continue to move effortlessly throughout his space together, as if you were meant to be a part of it all along. He flashes you that award winning smile any chance he gets. After the pancakes are done and topped with the strawberries, he leads you to his patio where he has a large projector screen set up with a sea of blankets and pillows for you two to sit on. 
“I hear you enjoy the Harry Potter movies, and I happen to be a fan as well. So i figured we could have a little marathon while we got to know each other,”
“Har–” you notice the way his eyes glimmer with a sliver of hope, but that was a mess up,--”Styles, that sounds perfect,” you whisper. His face slightly drops at your correction, but he’s deterred none. Shaking it off, he smiles over at you, helping you take a seat on the blanketed area.
“You strike me as a slytherin with that attitude of yours,” he jokes with you. “I’m a Gryffindor myself.”
“Mm, I would have thought you to be a Hufflepuff,”
“Those are fighting words,” he says as he leans over and grabs a pillow. Swiftly catching on, you immediately grab one as well and strike first; landing a blow to the side of his head. He chuckles, “You’re going to regret that, Birdie,” his threat makes you giggle. 
You burst with laughter as he takes hold of one of your ankles, and pulls you towards him, making you tumble back from the sudden movement; the pillows breaking the short fall from your sitting position. His pillow begins making repeated contact with your upper body, your arms shoot up in an attempt to cover your head. His light blows of the pillow make both of your laughs fill the air.
“God, Styles at–whack–least pretend to–whack–-let me win,” you giggle out.
He pauses his movements for a split second, smiling at you from above deviously. He takes hold of both of your hands in one of his, slightly pulling you into a sitting position.
“No,” and he whacks you again lightly upside your head, sending you backwards into the pillows below again
“Rude,” you huff, making him laugh.
“Had enough?”
“Mhm,” you pout. Putting your hand out, you silently ask for help, but keep hold of your pillow with the other hand. He pulls you to sit, but is surprised to feel your pillow collide with the side of his face, sending him backwards this time. You take the opportunity to straddle his hips, and repeatedly whack him with the pillow. Lightly of course.”How do you like it? Hm?” you tease from above. Harry has that permanent grin all over his face. His hands find your hips, giving them a light squeeze before he switches your positions so he's hovering over you again. You go silent, but have a huge smile etched onto your lips.
“What’s wrong, Birdie?” he gloats, “Got no defense now?” Low laughs fall from his lips as he watches you swallow in anticipation, You look up to his lips, also forming a grin. “Whatcha lookin at? Hm?”
“Do you want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you right now?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment you first told me ‘No’ when I asked to buy your piano, and then even more when you told me to get out of your store.”
“Why haven’t you then?” you ask breathlessly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I wanted you to be comfortable with the idea before I made my move,” he says, connecting your lips together for the first time.
You’ve never felt so comforted yet nervous by someone's touch before. He feels of danger and darkness, but comfort and safety at the same time. He could give you the best of both worlds, if you’d let him of course. Deepening the kiss he feels your hands snake under his shirt, learning the defined muscles across the area. Harry caresses the side of your face in his left hand, bracing himself near your head on the right.
He pulls away, looking at the blown look in your eyes and chuckles softly. “As much as I would love for this to continue, I want to do this right with you and make sure this is really what you want.”
Harry’s admission makes your hardened heart soften just a little bit. “Ever the gentleman, Styles.”
“Still just Styles after that?” he teases.
“The night is not over yet,” you sit up, shoving him backwards.
“Indeed it is not.”
“I can’t believe you’d be offended to be a hufflepuff. Don’t you know they say every Slytherin needs a Hufflepuff?”
Harry ponders for a moment, a look on his face that makes you think he’s actually mulling over a serious thought inside his big ass head. “If you’re guaranteed to be my Slytherin then I'd consider the change.”
“You’d change your Hogwarts house for me?” you look down to your hands sitting in your lap, a grin formed on your lips as you speak.
“I’d try to change the world for you,” Harry whispers. Your head snaps up, looking into his eyes.
“That.. has to be the cheesiest thing i've ever heard on a first date,” you chuckle, making him laugh with you.
“Please, you were eating that up Birdie.” he attempts to play it off.
“Would you really though?”
“Of course,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
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“Any chance we’ll do this again? Or am I banned?” Harry asks, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Giggles leave your lips.
Leaning up, you give him a kiss. “What do you think, Styles?” you whisper. Harry’s skin heats up, his face turning a light tinge of pink
“How about this friday?”
“That’s literally tomorrow,” you chuckle.
“Okay?” he questions, unsure where your worry is coming from. He'll ease all of your worries if you’d let him. He’d give you everything if you’d let him.
So what? He thinks
You pretend to mull it over in your head for a moment, “Okay.” you finally agree.
“Okay?” He seems almost puzzled.
“Okay. But no labels. And nothing extravagant.”
“Okay,” he smiles at you, offering one more kiss and a “See you tomorrow, Birdie.” Harry leaves you standing in the doorway to your apartment, a light blush evident all over your cheeks. 
Heading inside you immediately call Ellie to thank her for being so thorough in telling Harry everything about you. She was adamant she didn't know what you were talking about but said you’re welcome anyways. “Now, about Mitch” you start telling her the details about the double bunned man. 
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A slew of dates followed the first one. He was determined to change your mind about no labels… and about not wanting anything extravagant. Harry wanted to show you the world of opportunities he offered you by saying yes to being his. The second date he took you one was to the restaurant he owned at the marina. Some of the finest dining you’d ever seen. A complete turn around from the pancakes you’d had the night before. When you’d asked him what to wear this time, he’d told you not to worry, that something would show up for you soon. A sleek, black satin dress with a scoop neckline showed up at your store before your date, earning a genuine eye roll from you. 
“I said nothing extravagant, Styles,” you scolded him as you stepped into the car. 
“The smile you’re attempting to hide from me betrays your words, Birdie,” he gloats from his seat next to you. “You look wonderful.”
“Just because I like playing dress up does not mean I'm not mad at you.”
Harry grabs your hand, raising it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back. The gesture never failing to make you blush. “Whatever you say, darling.”
“Sir, Scott Jones has just arrived at the restaurant. Should we change locations?” Suguru questions from the front seat. 
“No, this is my turf…” he begins speaking, his grip on your hand almost feels tighter as the words leave him. “...I won’t be made a fool of in my own establishment.”
“Scott Jones?” you whisper to Harry who’s got a vice grip on his cellphone, typing angrily. Your hand comes to rest on his leg.
The stiffness in Harry’s stature eased at the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch. He wonders just where you’ve been all of his life. Your ability to make the darkness not seem so dark inside his mind makes him feel like there might be a point to all of this.
“He’s just a contact. Nothing for you to worry about, Birdie,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
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Harry loved taking photos. His camera roll was full of his favorite things to look at. Whether it was a nicely decorated room or a view he’d seen on a business trip. But now, his camera roll was full of one thing and one thing only; you. Photos of you from your first date, lying peacefully in the blanket fort with pillows surrounding your serene looking frame. He thought you looked beautiful when you were all dressed up, but he thought you looked your best when you were dressed down. Harry just loved having reminders of your pretty face. 
He had other photos of you; sitting at your piano, or laying in his bed. Photos of you on every date he’d taken you on. So many videos of you singing along with the radio. Any song could come on when he was visiting you and you were able to match the tempo perfectly on the keys. Your voice always sounded sweet like honey in his ears. His favorite photo was the one you took with him, a selfie of you kissing his cheek. He felt like a teenage boy freaking out over his highschool crush when he spent almost an hour just grinning to himself while looking at the picture.
You were still hesitant to say you were fully in a relationship with him, even all these months later. He’d visit you every day in your store, telling you he’d be ready whenever you were. You were it for him, he was just waiting for you to be on the same page. 
Harry smiled down at you laying on his chest. He’d rented a cabana at the beach and planned a day with you just to relax and be with each other. Talking of everything big and small. After you mentioned that you loved being around water, it seemed like every date had a water undertone to it. A dinner date at the marina. A trip to the aquarium. Day dates on his yacht, which often turned into sunset cruises. Multiple beach dates. This beach date started to remind you of Pretty Woman since Harry offered to read your book to you while you rested your eyes.
As he read the words off the page all you could think about was how hard you’d fallen for this man without even being aware of it. You can't even pinpoint when it happened. What you do know is that looking up at him in this moment as he reads your book back to you, you’re head over heels for him. 
“This reminds me of Pretty Woman so much,” you chuckle, sitting up out of his hold.
“When he was reading to her under the tree?” 
“You’ve seen it?” you look at him with shock in your eyes. You’d never have thought in a million years Mr. Mafia man would have seen such a chick flick.
“I hadn't before, but you’ve mentioned it so much I wanted to see what you were referring to,” Harry admitted, closing the book with a thud. He sits up next to you, and caresses the side of your face. Leaning into his touch, you smile softly at him.
“You’re really determined, you know that?” you whisper.
Harry rubs his thumb over the apple of your cheek, eyeing your mouth as he speaks. “Took you long enough to notice,” he places a soft kiss to your lips and feels you smile against his mouth.
“Who knew the big mafia boss had a soft side.” you chuckle, kissing him back.
“Only for you, darling. When are you gonna let me make it official and call you mine?” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.
“I--" you start to think of what to say. You want to try this with him. He’s more than proved himself, but you still have reservations. Mostly because of who, or what he is. His life eats, sleeps and breathes danger. You just want to run your little music store in the middle of downtown. He’s making it easy to forget that life you had planned for yourself.” –I don't know. I’m scared.”
“I know you are, but I'm here when you’re ready.” His fingers thread their way into your hair as he lulls your head to the side and pressing his lips to your neck. “I have a question for you though,” he whispers against the surface. Harry pulls back to gauge your reaction
Your eyes look glazed over and blown out, so he continues. Your hands find his shoulders in an attempt to hold yourself upright on the cabana bed. 
“Well, more of a request,” he hums. “I have an event tomorrow evening I need a date for. Would you be interested in accompanying me?
“Is it something fun?” you pull his head to be level with yours, looking directly at his lips with lust behind your gaze.
“Have I asked you to do anything so far that hasn't been fun?”
“No,” you shake your head at him and kiss him. Pushing him to lay back, your leg hikes up around his hip. “I would love to accompany you to your event tomorrow, Styles.” 
“Still just Styles, huh? Even when you’re trying to get into my trunks?” His teasing words make you retract your touch from his body, fully sitting up again. “Nuh uh, you get back here,” he laughs, pulling you back down with him making you giggle. Harry gives you an onslaught of kisses all over your face, pulling more and more laughs from you; his second favorite thing to hear. He knows all of his favorite sounds will get outranked one day… he just has to wait for that day to come. Harry slides his hands down your sides and digs his fingertips into your sides, making you squeal.
“S-stop! I’m ticklish!” you whine.
“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me want to stop?” He continues his playful assault, laughing along with you. You manage to get one up on him, swinging your leg over his hips so you’re straddling him. Taking hold of his wrists in your hands, you pin them on either side of his head, smirking down at him. “Mm, what’s your plan now, Birdie?” he shows off that million dollar smile. You cover his lips with yours, tasting the salt from the ocean on his skin. Harry offers you a hum of approval at the feeling of your mouth on his, making you smile. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, making you gasp. Letting go of the grip on his wrists, your hands tangle into the chestnut tufts of his hair. Harry cups your jaw with both hands as he pulls you off of him. “We can't,” he whispers against your lips before you’re attaching your lips again. “Birdie,” he says, pulling you off again.
“What?” you ask, a grin plastered on your face. “Why can't we?”
“Well, number one we’re in public,” he motions to all the other couples scattered around the various surrounding cabanas. “And two, Mitch and Niall are not going to be getting an eyeful of what's mine,” he growls, taking your lips with his once more. You groan once he pulls away.
“I never said I was yours,” you tease, letting him sit up with you.
“You’ve always been mine…” he says, caressing the side of your face in one hand, “...ever since I stepped into your store for the first time.”
You clear your throat, “Right, about tomorrow though?”
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Ellie won't let you see the dress you’re wearing; the only thing she’ll tell you is that it's red and beautiful. You decided to close up early since she’d offered to help you get ready. Harry said he was going to take care of everything, but you at least asked if you could get ready yourself. Having strangers mess with your appearance wasn’t at the top of your ideal things to do today list.
Harry told you to be ready by seven, he’d pick you up on the dot. You were sitting in the sink of your bathroom as you put your makeup on, paying extra close attention to the details today. Ellie stands behind you with the curling iron as you two argue over Harry. You’re still adamant on not being ready, but Ellie keeps calling your bluff. 
“Why wont you just let yourself be happy?” Ellie asks as she helps you curl your hair. 
“You date a Mafia boss and tell me you're not terrified at the end of the day,” you chuckle, sweeping your blush brush across your cheeks.
“So you’re telling me you dont like him?”
“That’s not what I said, I said I was scared.”
“So you do like him?” she asks excitedly. 
You do, and that’s what scares you. This was supposed to be just something fun for you. You never envisioned feeling this way. 
You nod slowly, “Probably too much,” the admission feeling like a weight off of your shoulders. “Think I’ll tell him tonight, if it goes as well as I'm hoping it does.” Ellie is bubbling with excitement at your words. She’s probably already planning your wedding.
“You’ve been leading him on for months now, just give in and see where it takes you!”
Ellie was kinda right. But in reality, you don’t owe him anything and you know that. But you do really want to see where this could possibly take you. You already feel so much for this man, but who knows what else could happen.
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Harry picked you up exactly when he said he would, knocking on your door at seven sharp. You open the door, and you’re met with your handsome date for the evening in a black on black suit with a red boutonniere on the left hand side that matches your dress impeccably well.
“You look… wow.”
A light blush forms on your cheeks at his words. “You look pretty wow yourself, Harry.”
He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the silky material of the gloves that stop just below your elbow. “You look fantastic, not just wow.” he smiles at you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I have one more surprise,” he pulls a box from his jacket pocket.
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
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taglist: @freedomfireflies @harrysonlylover @daydreamingofmatilda @triski73 @evie-119
@vamprry @howling-wolf97
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garfunklefield · 2 days
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Adorbs!
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18+ viewer discretion
fem!dom!reader/Megumi Fushiguro/Yuji Itadori Warnings: AGED UP MEGUMI AND YUJI, slight exhibitionism, voyeurism, spit-roasting, creampie, humiliation kink, some dub-con, make out, tongue kissing, gagging, cumshot [face] Word count: 1832 DESC: Two best friends share you in a broom closet
This is a part 2 to So Cute!
REQUESTS and ASKS open!
“Uhhhh what? I didn’t say anything!” Yuji raised two hands, with wide eyes. He had just caught his best friend and some random girl, you, grinding on each other in the math hallway. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do when he first walked up and saw Megumi whimpering into your touch. Any reasonable person would have just walked away and tried to forget about it, but Yuji was a bit of a pervert. He found himself staring, watching, and touching himself. Just a little bit, over his sweatpants. But enough to stain his underwear with loads of precum.
You turned around, your bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hadn’t noticed your outfit, tight skirt, and tighter top. As you crossed your arms, the buttons stretched and he could see your perfectly rounded breasts. “So… You’re just gonna stand there or are we gonna do it?’
Megumi blinked a few times and looked down at you, a fierce blush racing across his temples, “Do what, exactly?” Although his voice was even and calm, Yuji could tell he was completely humiliated. But it didn’t explain why he was still hard. Did he have a humiliation kink too on top of this exhibitionist thing? 
“Well if Yuji wants to join it would be mean not to let him,” you looked up at Megumi and batted your eyelashes a few times. You knew he liked you and that gave your ego a massive boost. All the things you thought he hated, turns out maybe he didn’t. That rush, accompanied by your recent orgasm, made you a bit more confident in your abilities to persuade him. 
The boy frowned and shot his best friend a glare, “I’m not having sex with Yuji.”
“Not him. Me. Both of you fuck me at the same time,” you rolled your eyes, “C’mon! I know a spot!” You strolled up to Yuji and took his hand, turning your head back to look at Megumi. His frown deepened but he still followed you two with no complaints. Yuji couldn’t say much, being stunned by the fact it worked and he was about to fuck you with his best friend. He had to admit it, he’d had thoughts about Megumi in the past, but he never knew how to voice it. This just made it better. He could have his cake and eat it too. 
Megumi couldn’t help but stare at you and Yuji as you walked, your height difference even in those heels, and the way your ass hung out of your skirt. It wasn’t like you were even trying to hide your thong, covering the soaked spot in between your legs. Or your ass, as it jiggled with every step. He found himself salivating at the thought of being able to hold, touch, and fondle it. All of it. The three of you arrived at the spot in question, which was a broom closet. You opened it and motioned for the two of them to follow you inside. Once inside, it was dark and shabby. But, it had enough room for the three of you to stand comfortably. 
The boys expected you to stand in the middle and give yourself to them, so it surprised them when you pushed them both in the middle and cleared your throat. “Go on.” 
“...What?” Megumi blinked a few times, staring from you to Yuji, who was equally as confused. 
“If you want to fuck me I want you two to kiss first,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded in their direction. 
Yuji didn’t have to be told twice, reaching out and pulling his friend in by the waist. His lips found the man’s neck and pressed delicate kisses along his skin, trailing up to his jaw. Megumi stood there for a moment, watching you with a pissed expression. But he was practically melting into his friend's touch, which made you question if he was really pissed or flustered. Soon, Yuji’s mouth trailed up to Megumi’s face, where their lips met. It was soft and sweet, just a few shallow kisses. But the raven-haired boy deepened it within seconds. Their tongues intertwined as they lost themselves in the pleasure, pressing against each other. You couldn’t help but begin to touch yourself over your wet panties. God, they were so hot, needily lapping at each other's mouths for some kind of release. You could see Megumi fighting to keep up with Yuji’s intense kissing, taking over the kiss within seconds.
It didn’t take you long to inch over and begin to run your hand up Megumi’s back. He shivered and turned his head to you, lips swollen from the kiss and eyes half-lidded. You took it as an opportunity and lept to kiss him, bringing him into a dominating kiss. The other boy leaned forward and began to kiss his best friend's neck, making him whine into your mouth. Your hands found his hair and raked through it, gently tugging at the strands to make him moan louder. He tried to pull away and break from it, but you wouldn’t let him. Your stronghold on his lips made him hard, straining against his pants. One of your hands moved down, touching on his clothed boner. You felt it twitch and practically beg to be freed from his jeans. Yuji grabbed your face after a moment and turned it, bringing you into a sloppy make-out. Megumi whimpered and watched the two of you turn and press against each other, molding into one. Your hands tugged on Yuji’s hair and his hands made a home on your ass, pulling up your skirt and fondling you without care. He bit his lip and watched, slowly unbuttoning his own jeans to be freed from the tightness that restricted his cock. 
Yuji pulled down your skirt within seconds then got to work on his sweatpants. For him it was easy, just pulling them down with his underwear in one fell swoop. Then he kicked them off and looked down at his dick, throbbing to be inside you and only you. Megumi whined and turned your attention to him, seeing him pulling down his jeans. You helped him remove them and his boxers, staring at his cock. It was large, just like Yuji’s, although his had less girth to it. Either way, you wanted to suck one and get fucked by the other. 
“I call mouth,” Yuji smiled, moving to stand in front of you. You knelt down and stared face to face with his cock. It was perfect, and leaking just for you. You ran your hand from its tip down the shaft, letting him shudder. Megumi walked behind you and pressed his penis against your ass, groaning at the plush feeling. You were on all four at that point, ready to be face fucked until you choked.
It was gentle at first, letting you get adjusted to the feeling of Megumi’s large dick in your pussy and Yuji’s long cock in your mouth. But the boys were needy, they were needy to cum in and on you. Yuji was the first to start fucking you hard, grabbing your hair and thrusting his hips like there was no tomorrow. He was just as whiney as his friend, who grabbed your fat hips and fucked into your sweet cunt quickly. You could barely moan, you could barely breathe, all you could do was take it like a little slut. Then you started gagging when his tip touched the back of your throat. But you liked it, god, you loved it. 
“Mm.. f-fuck.. Yo-you’re so… t…tight,” Megumi exhaled, leaning back to relish in your pussy. You were perfect, warm, and sloppy just for him. Tight as he thrust into your juices, and comforting. He wanted to fuck you for hours on end until he couldn’t feel his penis anymore. Yuji felt almost the same about your perfect little mouth. It was just wide enough to fit his dick in there, with room for him to reach the back of your throat. You were warm and wet, slobbering all up his shaft uncontrollably. He didn’t give you room to breathe or get situated, just pushing himself in to get his high. 
They were both close and they just started. You were the perfect little fuck toy for both of them, taking it and loving it. Your pussy squeezed and clenched when you were close, and when you did end up coming you were so loud and pathetic. You choked and gagged as you came onto Megumi’s long dick, taking it so well. Just the sight was enough to send Yuji over the edge, but he didn’t want to cum in your mouth. He pulled out a few seconds before and grabbed your chin, tilting your head up. Your tongue hung out lazily as you stared at his head, pulsating as he began to stroke his length. 
“Close your.. Mm- eyes,” he muttered, stroking himself quicker and quicker until he splattered all over your pretty little face. You opened your mouth wider to catch it, letting it sprinkle on your forehead and down your nose. You had never had your face decorated like this, it was so strange. Warm and hot, sticking onto your skin and making you somewhat regret being a cumslut. Yuji wiped some cum off your eyelid and lightly cooed, mumbling about how pretty you looked covered in his sperm. 
You couldn’t really hear him, still getting fucked from behind. Megumi didn’t stop, he was so close to finishing he couldn’t. He wanted to fill you up and fuck it right back into your battered little cunt. You gasped and let your eyes flutter open, staring up at Yuji so needily, whining. You wanted his cock right back in your mouth, didn’t you? You wanted to suck and lick along the sides and gag as he mouth fucked you. Instead, though, Yuji knelt down and grabbed your face, bringing you into a wet kiss. You couldn’t complain, this felt just as good. Megumi whimpered and slammed his hips into your ass a few more times, as you realized he was cumming. It felt just as sticky and warm as getting a load shot on your face did. You gasped and arched your back, feeling him pump you full of his aching seed. You wanted him to keep going and thrust into you, but he slowly came to a stop. 
He was panting wildly behind you, squeezing your skin as he came down, “..Guys..” Megumi cleared his throat and leaned over, tapping your head to pull you from the kiss. 
Yuji glanced over at him, “What?”
“Hm?” You looked at Megumi with a dazed expression, half hearing him and half being fucked so dumb you couldn’t. 
“Can we, uh,” he looked away, a bit of an annoyed expression appearing on his face, “All date?” 
Yuji blinked a few times, “Like a throuple?”
“Yes, like a throuple, idiot.” 
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lustylita · 2 days
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After it all happened.
Angst/ Open ending.
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Idea is by me, but with the help of the amazing @nyx-umbrakinesis 's beautiful writing skills, I present this angsty idea!
Go give her love omg!
_______________________________________________
The extermination had ended... time had passed and the devastation left behind had been mended... mostly, the hotel had been rebuilt, Sir Pentious had been mourned and memorialised, and you... you found yourself actually beginning to be able to process what had happened.
The trauma still fresh, but day by day it's symptoms becoming more manageable. It was in this more awakened state... (as you focused more on the problems of the others around you rather than your own,) you noticed one glaringly out of sorts issue – Alastor.
He was behaving like everything was fine, like the battle had never occurred, like everyone around him hadn’t suffered either – something was off... Was it denial? You could tell something wasn’t right, his trademark smile was slightly strained, his face looking more contorted and uncomfortable than usual, and his posture constantly stiff, as though ready to fight (or flee) at a moments notice, on top of all of that he spent so much more time cooped up in his radio tower, you barely saw him as he whiled away hours upon hours away from the company others, behind the locked door of his safe space for it to be a coincidence.
You simmer on this information, and agonise for a few weeks, observing just to make sure you weren’t imagining things – even though highly unlikely – you also waited to see if he would open up to anyone, share why he’s been acting like Quasimodo in his bell tower.
However, to absolutely no-ones surprise, he did in fact not do that, (even though everyone was in the same boat, all of you suffering some form of injury or trauma).
So, with a determined air, and confident gait, you ventured up to his radio broadcast station. Footsteps echoing slightly on the wooden floorboards as you ascend the stairs, breathing labouring, legs aching from the ascent.
You knew Alastor didn’t like anyone intruding upon the sanctity of his precious room, and wouldn’t appreciate this gesture of goodwill, preferring to interact with others in the common areas when he was free, but given his new proclivity for hiding away he hadn’t really given you any other choice, since he’s never present in the public areas of the hotel anymore.
Arriving at the heavy door, teetering back and forth on your heels and toes nervously for a moment, you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves.
You reach up with a sure hand and knock loudly on his door and wait. You heard rustling of scattered papers and the clang of something sturdy being knocked over in haste, and fumbling as he clearly tried to correct the error.
In this it became evident to you that your suspicions were correct, he was indeed hiding, or withholding, something of significance, you blinked several times snapping out of your thoughts when the door squeaked as it swifly opened.
“Ah, hello little one! To what do I owe this visit!” Alastor says with an exaggerated flair, his smile tensed, and his eye twitched looking more manic than you’ve seen from your observation of him this whole week.
Before you could get any words out however, he continued as though filled with effervescent bubbles, really overemphasising every movement and word, his smile looked like a wide crack in a porcelain plate, “Do come in, my dear, my broadcast won’t begin for another hour, I have plenty of time for a special guest,” He guided you inside, a hand ghosting on the small of your back, almost forcefully,
“Come on, in, in,” his voice sounded unnerving.
You took this as the opportune moment to confront him, so after taking another nervous breath and taking note of a bead of sweat travelling down his forehead.
“Alastor, I know you don’t like divulging your feelings, and that’s all well and good... But I do feel like opening up could be cathartic for you... To put it bluntly, ever since the extermination you’ve been acting strange – more so than usual. Alastor everyone’s beginning to notice, it’s getting more and more obvious with every day that goes by. You’re withdrawn, you don’t torment Husk nearly as much as you used to, even Charlie and Niffty can’t get your attention, and you literally set Vaggie on fire last week,” You nervously twirled the ring on your index finger around and around (a nervous tick) as you watched his whole body freeze.
“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re insinuating, my dear.” his voice sounding strained as he dismissed your theories.
Just as you’d predicted. However his nonchalant attitude about the situation was anything but, with the way he looked at you with a rigid grin, and stiff posture all but confirmed everything.
And you knew... you knew, that if you pushed slightly, put pressure on the raw emotion you would get at least some form of an answer. So without any self preservation.
“Alastor please.” Sounding exhausted, “You know I’m not ignorant, I thought it would be better if I came to you first about this, or would you rather it were Charlie who came to see you in this state? I think this solution to be the lesser of two evils, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your brow raised as you tried to rationalise with him, in contrast his brow began to furrow in irritation, his ears even pulled back, and you could swear you almost heard a growl, “I would prefer if all of you left me well enough alone. If I wanted assistance, I would ask. Quite the probing busybodies you lot are, leave me be.”
He stalked over to his desk, his boots making a dull thud, almost stomping, before huffing and taking a seat in his chair heavily, all while still regarding you intimidatingly with displeased narrowed crimson eyes, his grin still unchanged.
With an agitated huff of your own, you slowly approach Alastor again, “Us? Busybodies? Says the man who relishes every opportunity to intrude into people’s personal space, get in peoples faces for the sheer entertainment of it all. God forbid the people who have spent months with you getting to know you, enjoying your company actually care about you Alastor!”
Angrily pacing before him, your hands gesturing wildly in your temper, “so why don’t you please just enlighten me on what’s wrong, at least then I can stop Charlie from coming up here and dealing with you in this state, and then maybe I can let you go back to whatever it is you’re doing in here all day everyday, become a hermit for all I care, just tell me and then I can leave, I want to actually enjoy my afternoon.”
You knew goading him was risky, but he really knew how to push your buttons, having now paused before his chair again leaving but a few inches between you as you puff like an angered wildebeest.
You observe him, his expression darkened, but as he looked up at you, you saw it again, the same facade, cracking him again, making your heart lurch, he laughed at you condescendingly.
Rolling his eyes, Alastor looks back to you coldly, “Absolutely, nothing is wrong with me.” His voice becoming more scratchy as the radio effect worsens, suddenly he’s towering over you.
Hoping intimidation would be enough to deter you he continues, patronising you, “I’m not a weak little demon like you dear, I don’t need someone to hold my hand, or help take me for a walk, or talk about my feelings in a nice little share circle.” His grin became dangerous.
“I’m an overlord, one of the most feared in all of hell, I am quite capable of dealing with my own issues, not that I have any. I don’t need you or anyone else in this tacky hotel to think you could possibly make any impact on me when you’re all just such pathetic little failures, I can’t believe you of all demons think that I care, well allow me to disabuse you of this notion. I don’t and never will, and if yo-“
Alastor watches with manic glee as your eyes quickly harden with rage and your shoulders begin to twitch bunching up with unbridled rage, as you react faster than you can think, your arm coiling back, with full intention of giving a well deserved slap to the contentious lanky shit, however, before your hand could move barely an inch, Alastor fast as lightning grabs your wrist.
Now also enraged at your impudence, Alastor menacingly backs you up, until you find yourself pressed against the red cold glass window overlooking the exterior of the hotel, his grip on your wrist bruising and tinged with pain, as he leans down towards your ear. Uttering in a low angry growl, his breath tickling your ear.
“Would you care to try that again, dear?”
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scoonsalicious · 1 day
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2.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, pick-mes, internalized misogyny.
Word Count: 2.7k
Previously On...: You asked Bucky to dance.
A/N: Guys, I know it's moving fast, but next part is smut <3
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As soon as the opening bars of the saxophone began, Bucky found himself feeling at ease. It wasn’t exactly like the big band tunes he used to cut it up to back in the day, but the beat was similar, and the horns were familiar. He was delighted to find the rhythm of the song was perfect for the Lindy Hop, and in no time, he was moving Major along the floor like he would have if he’d met her in 1943. 
And the look on her face as he spun her, twisted her in his arms? It was fucking priceless. Major’s smile was huge, her laugh infectious, and in no time at all, Bucky found himself laughing, too. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with a dame. 
He was surprised to find himself thinking of Major in those terms, as a dame. Yeah, he’d dated since he’d woken up from cryo for the last time, even had a couple of relationships that never seemed to go anywhere, but those had all been with girls, occasionally women. Not a single one of them had made him feel the same electric rush he’d felt in his youth; not the way he’d felt dancing with Major tonight, and that made her a dame. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
The song was over far too soon for Bucky’s liking, and even though the next one was one he didn’t know how to move to, he found he didn’t want to let go of her, didn’t want to move off the floor.
“That was great,” he said, slightly panting from the dancing and laughing. “What was that?”
“Bleachers,” Major said. “Modern Girl. They’re one of my favorite bands. I’m so glad you liked it.”
“I loved it,” Bucky smiled. “I haven’t danced like that in nearly a century. It felt fucking amazing; thank you.” 
Major ducked her face behind her hair, bashful at his thanks, and Bucky thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “Are all their songs like that?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted, “but they’re still fantastic.”
“I’ll give them a listen, then,” he said, “if you like them so much.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, blushing. God. How Bucky wanted to bite the apples of her cheeks!
“I want to,” he said, earnestly. Without a thought, he found himself reaching up to tuck a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to even be talking to her, let alone having gotten to share a dance.
“What?” Major asked, sounding self conscious, and Bucky realized he’d been staring at her for a little longer than was probably considered politely normal.
“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” he told her honestly, and was rewarded when she ducked her face down again. He tucked his hand under her chin and tilted her head back up so she was looking at him. “What?” he asked with a soft smile. “Is that so hard to believe?”
Major chuckled softly. “No,” she said. “I guess… I’m just not used to getting compliments.”
“Well, that’s a damned shame,” Bucky tsked. “You should be getting them multiple times a day.”
She licked her lips. She looked so fucking kissable, he thought. “I was in a relationship for a long time,” Major told him. “Got a lot more insults than compliments, unfortunately, toward the end. Guess I just got accustomed to them.”
Bucky frowned, having a hard time believing any straight man with eyes and blood in his cock would ever consider insulting her. “Your ex-boyfriend sounds like a dumbass piece of shit,” he offered.
Major shrugged. “Ex-husband, actually.”
That took Bucky aback. “Oh,” he said. “Shit. I’m sorry–”
“No, it’s okay,” she rushed to reassure him. “I married young and dumb. Military housing is a big perk, you know.” Bucky nodded. “It was… nice for a few years, but between the stress of deployments, and the fact I was getting promoted more often than he was… we weren’t happy for a while.”
“How long since you split?” he asked. He was nervous– based on what he’d experienced of Major so far, he saw her as someone he could really end up liking, and he didn’t want to come trampling in if she wasn’t emotionally ready. The idea of just being a rebound to her didn’t sit well with him. At all.
“Oh, like, five years ago,” Major said, waving her hand as if dismissing her entire marriage. “He cheated on me during his last deployment. Cliche, I know, but I ended up being grateful for it. It was the kick in the ass I needed to finally get out of a dead relationship. In fact, I fueled all the anger I felt at him into building the first WarZone. So, in a weird, roundabout way, I have him to thank for where I am today. Just think; if he had been able to keep his dick in his pants, we might not be standing here right now.”
Bucky laughed at that, and he suddenly found himself wanting to send her ex a thank you card. “Do you still see him?” he asked. 
“Not if I can help it,” Major told him, an upward tic to her lips. “We still have some mutual friends, and I’m fond of his mother, so we run into each other socially, here and there, a couple of times a year. I don’t look forward to seeing him or anything like that, but I stopped caring enough to let it really bother me a long time ago.”
“That seems like a pretty healthy outlook to have,” Bucky offered.
“It took a lot of work to get to this point,” she laughed. “I mean, why’d you think I had to start a rage room, of all things, to help me deal?”
Bucky laughed, and as he did so, he realized he was still holding both of her hands in his; neither of them had made a move to pull away from one another since the dance ended. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, looking up from where the two of them were joined.
“Yeah,” she said, offering him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “I’d like that.”
They both returned to the booth a few minutes later, Bucky with a beer and Major with another frozen margarita. In their absence, Peter, Thor, and Wanda had left, leaving just Bucky and Major, Nat, Steve, Sam, and Lily. 
“They wanted me to tell you goodbye, and that they loved meeting you,” Nat told Major as she and Bucky both sat back down. “They wish they could have stayed, but Thor and Wanda have an early mission tomorrow, and Peter’s got a school project. You and Barnes seemed to be having a deep discussion, so they didn’t want to interrupt.”
“I’m sorry to have missed them,” Major said, “but hopefully I’ll see them again?” She looked to Nat with a question on her face.
“Of course you will,” Bucky said before Nat could reply. “You think I’m– er, we’re gonna let you get away from us that easily?”
“Oh, Bucky,” Lily said, reaching for his arm. “Did you get me a drink from the bar, love?”
Bucky frowned. It was their usual routine to get the other a refill each time one of them went to the bar, but he’d been so smitten by Major’s presence, he’d entirely forgotten. “No, Lil, I’m sorry,” he said, knowing she’d rightfully start pouting.
“You can share mine with me, if you’d like,” Major offered, holding out her margarita. “I’ve probably already had enough alcohol for one night.”
“Ew, gross,” Lily said, sneering at the proffered drink. “I don’t touch that fruity shit. They’re just so… girly.” She spat out the word like it was an insult. “I mean, if you can’t take beer or straight up liquor, what’s the point of even drinking?” She leaned over and picked up Bucky’s beer. “I’ll just share with Jamie. You don’t mind, right, love?” Smiling, she took a long swig before placing the bottle down in front of him.
“Well, since my drink’s been commandeered,” Bucky said, looking to Major with big, soulful puppy dog eyes, “will you share yours with me?”
��Of course,” she said, handing him her glass. Bucky took a sip.
“Oh, shit,” he moaned, then leaned down to take a larger swig; it was tastier than he’d ever imagined, not to mention her lips had been on the glass, just where his were now. “Lil, you’re missing out! This fruity shit is delicious! Thanks, doll!” 
“I’m just curious,” Major started, seemingly apprehensive, as though she were wondering if she should say what she was actually thinking, “why you say ‘girly’ like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with being a girl?”
Nat raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Bucky was sure he heard Sam cough “oh shit” into his fist. 
Lily rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with being a girl, obviously,” she said. “But, like, you have to admit, all the stuff that’s catered to women is just so… stupid, childish. No self-respecting, serious person is into all that kind of stuff. It’s weak.” She shook her head. “No, if it comes down between being a girl and being a badass, I’m going to choose badass every day of the week.”
“Uh oh,” Major said, leaning back and giving Lily a scrutinizing look. “Sounds to me like the misogyny is coming from inside the house.”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Lily asked, planting both hands on the table. “Lil, calm down,” Bucky said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure Major didn’t mean anything insulting by it.”
“I said,” Major reiterated slowly, “that the misogyny is coming from inside the house. You’re acting as though anything that’s considered inherently feminine is less than anything masculine. And when you look to build yourself up by bringing other women down by rejecting femininity, that’s internalized misogyny.”
“How dare you?” Lily seethed. “You don’t fucking know a thing about me! Bucky, tell her I’m not like that!”
“If I made an error in judgment, I apologize,” Major said, before Bucky could come to Lily’s defense. Though, if he really thought about it, Major had a point– Lily always did seem to irrationally hate anything she deemed girly. “I’m simply responding to the implications of your own words.” Major took a sip of her margarita and smacked her lips. “I mean, I like girly things. I like makeup and dressing up and fruity drinks, but I’ve also been in combat. I’ve fought in a war. I’m both girly and a badass. So is Nat. The two can co-exist, and neither one has to be better than the other.”
“You are now officially my best friend,” Natasha said, looking at Major with wonderment and a newfound respect. “Finally, someone else who actually gets it!”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Lily said, standing up and walking off without waiting for a response from anyone.
“I like you, New Girl,” Sam said, holding out his fist for Major to bump, which she did with an embarrassed smile. “I want you around all the damn time.” 
She turned to Bucky. “I’m sorry if I made your friend upset,” she said, “but after all those years of dealing with the shit that comes from being a woman with authority in the military, misogyny of any kind is a giant no go for me; particularly when it’s from another woman. We should all be propping each other up, not trying to tear one another down.”
“No, I completely understand. She was out of line,” Bucky said. She had been. There was no excuse for that kind of behavior, and if an old fogey from the ‘40s like him could realize that, she should have, too. “I’ll talk to her about it.”
Major smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the way he responded, and Bucky felt his heart swell. He was overcome with the idea that he wanted to make her happy all the time. Slow down! He told himself. You’ve only just met her!
Major glanced down at her watch, her expression falling. “Shit,” she said, picking up her leather jacket. “It’s getting late. I should probably head back if I’m going to catch the last train back into the city tonight.” She slid out of the booth and put her jacket on. “It was so great meeting you guys,” she said. “Please tell Lily again that I apologize if what I said offended her. Nat, thanks so much for the invite; I had a great time.” She leaned in to hug the redhead. “I’ll see you on Tuesday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Nat said, smiling. “I’m so glad you made it out; get home safe, yeah?”
Major nodded. “Will do. Goodnight” She looked back as she started to walk away, catching Bucky’s eye one last time, and his heart dropped in his chest; he didn’t want to– couldn’t– let her walk out of his life just yet.
“Major,” he said, standing up and sliding out of the booth to join her. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride back to your place? It’s late, and the train’s not the safest this time of night.”
He heard Nat, Sam, and Steve all cough-laugh into their hands in the booth behind them, but didn’t pay them any mind. “That’s so sweet of you,” Major said, “but I would feel awful for inconveniencing you like that.”
Bucky shook his head. “No inconvenience at all, I swear,” he told her. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t genuinely want to.”
Major chewed on her lip for a moment, considering his offer. “Okay,” she said eventually. “Yeah, you can give me a ride home.” Bucky thought his heart was going to soar out of his chest.
“While that’s real chivalrous of you and all, Bucket,” Sam said, “what are you gonna do about Lily? You drove her here. How you expect her to get home if you’re taking New Girl?”
Bucky turned and flashed Sam a Look. “Since you’re all going back to the Compound,” he said, “it shouldn’t be a problem for the three of you to drop her off at home on the way, right?” he asked pointedly. Come on, Sam, he thought, trying to silently communicate to his friend with his eyes. You said you’d be my wingman here!
Sam and Nat exchanged an annoyed look while Steve just looked resigned. “Yeah, alright,” Sam said after a minute. “We’ll make sure McIntyre gets home safe and sound. But you owe me one for this.”
Bucky put his hand to the small of Major’s back and led her out of the bar, waving to Steve, Nat and Sam as they went. His fingers brushed gently against hers as he led her to where he parked his motorcycle.
“Oh,” Major said. “I didn’t realize we’d be taking a bike.”
Bucky frowned. “Is that a problem? I can drive up to the Compound and get a car if–”
“No,” she smiled at him. “This is great. I haven’t been on a motorcycle in ages.”
Bucky unlocked the helmets and took his extra one, gently placing it on Major’s head and adjusting the straps so it was nice and snug. “There you go,” he said with a grin. He hopped onto the bike and waited for her to get on behind him. “Where’re we headed, doll?” he asked, typing the address of her SoHo condo into his GPS once she’d given it to him.
Once she’d gotten situated on the back of the bike, Major wrapped her arms around Bucky’s middle, and he immediately felt all his blood drain to his cock at her touch. “Uh, make sure you hold on tight,” he said, barely managing to choke out the words over the effect she was having on him. She squeezed him a little bit harder in acknowledgement, and Bucky knew that he was in for it.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 days
Text
Pt. 3
Again, the timing is icky but pretty much everything about it is icky.
——
Bruce wondered when Talia al Ghul would stop upheaving his life.
He loves Damian, but one surprise child was a lot, considering the cult deprogramming they’d had to do.
A second, older, surprise child? That was a bit overkill.
At least this time, the conception was consensual.
Bruce cradled his head in his hands, still-gloved fingers gripping onto sweat-soaked hair. The glow of the bat computer shone on his lone figure, sat huddled before endless screens of investigations and the unraveling threads of Bruce’s sanity.
How was he to cope with the knowledge that a child- his child, like Dick and Damian and Tim and Jason and- suffered so at the man he thought he had beaten so soundly?
It was his fault, Bruce thought, that Ra’s al Ghul tortured his… Bruce’s… daughter so brutally. It was no doubt, a way to assuage his anger at Bruce’s denial of being his heir.
His mistakes always came back to haunt him, but it never laid its furious eyes and hands on his own person. No, when Bruce made mistakes, his loved ones paid for it.
He tried his best, pushed harder as Batman, in penance. But this… his unknown daughter, trapped in the shadows of the league where it is cold and cruel and brutally painful…
How could he repent for the sin of letting his daughter suffer and chained at the hands of Ra’s al Ghul? How could he show her that the shadows could be kind? That he would rather break his own spine and get lost in the time stream again before he could even fathom hurting her? He found himself stuck in the same loop of thoughts that plagued him when Damian first came into his orbit.
The screens turned black, and Oracle’s call sign flashed onto the dark pixels.
“Oracle. I hadn’t finished looking at the cases.”
“Go to sleep, Bruce.”
“No, there is still work to be-” his voice, dipping into the growl, died a quick death when Barbara cut him off.
“Your daughter is coming tomorrow. So, unless you want to look like a disheveled grease racoon when you meet her, go shower and get some actual sleep.”
Bruce paused, feeling oddly offended. His eye bags weren’t that bad.
Bruce caught sight of his reflection in one of the blacked out monitors.
…Nevermind.
He sighed. “…Thank you, Barbara.”
“Anytime, Bruce. I’m always here to kick your ass into gear.”
Bruce huffed, but obligingly got up to change and shower. Alfred silently appeared at the elevators, polished shoes tapping against the stone floor as he raised an imperious eyebrow at Bruce.
“I see Miss Barbara has managed to persuade you to retire at an hour common to regular man, Master Bruce.”
“Ah, yes, she… did.” Bruce felt the urge to apologize, because if Alfred’s up because of him, it’ll wear down harsher on the older man’s health. If there was one thing he took seriously, it would be the health of his loved ones. “Sorry, Alfred. I’ll head up to bed soon.”
“See to it that you do, Master Bruce. I will warm dinner that you had missed by many hours and bring it to your room.”
Bruce lingered as the butler turned around and began making his way back to the main house.
Alfred paused and turned around once more. “If I may offer you some advice?”
“Please. Always.”
Alfred sniffed delicately, most definitely thinking of the times Bruce decided not to take his very well reasoned and seasoned advice. “You have done well with Young Master Damian.”
“Most of that was Dick,” Bruce interrupted, man enough to admit that he wasn’t a present or a particularly good father figure before his jaunt through time and space. Alfred shot him a chiding look, reprimanding him for interrupting. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Perhaps, but you have put in effort towards all of your children in a way that I have yet to see since Master Jason had… gone.”
“I’ll never make that period of time up to Tim.” Bruce whispered. Another thing he was guilty of. Tim still avoided some spaces in the manor, even when Bruce had-
“That is because you sit here, wallowing in your guilt,” Alfred returned. He added a belated “Master Bruce,” and it sounded like ‘you utter buffoon.’
“But…”
“You must take the first step, Master Bruce.”
“What if she hates me? What if I’m not ready- what if I can’t help her?”
“You will try. She deserves that, at the very least. You must try. Even if you are not ready for the day, Master Bruce, it can not always be night.”
“… You’re right.” Bruce straightened his shoulders. Time doesn’t wait. He, of all people, knew that.
“You will find that I am hardly ever wrong.” Alfred primly rested his hands atop each other.
“Thank you, Alfred.”
“Of course. It was also meant literally, Master Bruce, for the sun shall try its best to peek out of Gotham’s smog in approximately three hours and fourteen minutes.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Bruce grouched.
——
Her mother gave her a slow, cautious hug, akin to approaching a wild animal.
She huffed, and pulled her mother into a crushing hug. She allowed herself, for the first time in a long time, to linger and cling onto her mother’s shirt. Another tendency that Ra’s had thought he’d beaten out of her.
“Be careful,” the reincarnation whispered.
“You as well, my beloved daughter.”
‘You do not have to remind me that I am beloved, mother. I know.’
Talia al Ghul tucked a strand of the reincarnation’s curled hair behind her ear. “No, I do not believe that you do. But that is… my own fault. I will tell you and remind you that you are beloved to me as long as I can. I have two decades of it to make up to you, habibti.”
The flight attendant- a League operative- returned from placing her bags onto the private plane.
——
A sleek car made its way up Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. She’d declined the offer to pick her up from the airport. She had wanted a vehicle of her own, and some time before she met every one else. No doubt, knowing what she knew of her brother and Bruce Wayne, not to mention the little photographer, they were most likely tracing her path to Wayne manor obsessively.
She tapped her nails on the wheel as she drove towards her brother. Brothers. And… Bruce Wayne. On one hand, she’s kept them safe. On the other, she’d sacrificed years of getting to know them. It was odd, to feel this intensely awkward and nervous after years of intense hatred or apathy sprinkled by the the occasional love and fondness for Damian and her mother.
“Hmmm.” She hummed, slight smile spreading a bit more as the sound came out without pain. Two weeks, and the novelty of freedom had not worn off. She thinks that it would never wear off. She cherished it.
The gate had opened without needing a code, so they most definitely knew she was here. It’s a good thing she had prepared gifts in advance. Dodging Gothamites as they drove and jaywalked had been a rather unforeseen ordeal that she was not looking forward to repeating.
She rolled to a smooth stop at the front doors, giving the intricately carved oak doors a passing glance. She huffed a laugh as she saw Damian, flanked by Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth, staring proudly outside at the front door. They’re anticipatory of her arrival. Warmth spread through her heart, and for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t the heat of rage.
She opened the doors with a quiet click and hiss, stepping out onto the heated paved driveway, and closed the door. At the steps, the two older men had frozen but Damian had come walking quickly towards her.
“Damian,” she whispered as he came near her, suffusing as much fondness as she could into his name. Her little brother all but sprinted towards her, screeching to a stop in front of her with excited eyes.
“Welcome to Wayne Manor, ukhti.” He said formally. Her eyes softened and she pulled him into a hug.
(yā waṭawāṭī alṣṣḡīr is the phonetic spelling.) ("وطواطي الصغير" is the actual spelling. I think.)
“I have missed you, ya wat-wat alssgirr,” she whispered. The familiar endearment, “my little bat,” rung warmly like a warm crease ruffling his hair. The silks of her clothes and the ever present warm sand and candle scent wrapped around him like a hug… like the hug she was currently giving him.
(Her clothes were in blues and silvers. It suited her, she who had been forced in green and golds and cuts of black.)
“I still can not believe you all but told me who father was and I still could not figure it out until mother told me.”
She pulled back. ‘Damian, you were five.’
“I have little doubt you were smarter at my age, ukhti, so do not lie to me.” Damian grumbled. Nevertheless, he stepped back.
‘No, you were smarter.’
And to her, he was. It’s not like Damian had the edge she did, and he wasn’t the one trapped for twenty something years. She had foolishly thought that Ra’s wouldn’t dare to harm her too much, seeing as she was his blood, but Damian knew from day 1. She made sure he did. If she was half as smart as Damian, she would have bent her knee and obeyed, no matter how she felt about killing. She would have taken warning Ra’s issued and soaked in the poisonous praise to bide her time to escape. She could not- she did not- do what Damian found effortless, and paid the price for it.
“Unlikely,” Damian said, turning around fully, but she could see the tips of her brother’s ears burning. Ah, perhaps she had been to stingy with compliments if he was shy hearing a mild one, sincere as it might have been. “This is Alfred Pennyworth. He is the butler, and an integral part of the family.”
Damian glanced at her, taking in her suddenly impassive face, and nods. Good. His attitude towards Pennyworth when he first arrived was… mildly shameful. His ukhti was smart enough to know that and therefore he won the argument.
On her part, the reincarnation followed along like she hadn’t mildly stalked this family for decades. It was nice to see excitement rearing on her brother’s face. It was rare in the league and Gotham’s gloom had ironically cheered him up far more than the suns of desserts ever did. She nodded at Alfred Pennyworth, who had admirably recovered from his earlier shock.
“And this is… Bruce Wayne. Our father.”
She tucked a strand of curled hair back, impassive blue eyes meeting her… father’s.
She offered him a short nod.
——
“My word,” Alfred Pennyworth muttered as his charge’s (his son’s) daughter step out of the car. Her steps were silent, graceful, and lighter than a gazelle.
The way she moved, even as she hugged young master Damian, whispered of leashed lethality and treacherous waters. She moved like if grace had a form and Alfred was willing to bet his entire career that not an iota of air got close to her without her knowledge of it, and it reminded the aging man of the young Miss Cassandra. He knew then, that she could have pretended to be unassuming and that he would have had a hard time equating her with danger. That she showed them her potential for death was a sign of trust.
But it was not the way she claimed death as her own name that caught the former spy’s attention.
No.
It was her blue eyes and the way they ever so slightly crinkled fondly as she laid eyes upon her younger brother. It was the way her hair, curled in a nostalgic style, that curtained her face as she spoke to the young Wayne heir, though he could not hear her voice. It was the way that she tucked Damian against her side, protective but encouraging.
It was the way that she, despite Talia al Ghul’s features, resembled his dearest friend, Martha Wayne, in her every movement.
Alfred Pennyworth felt like he was decades younger, standing before Martha as she fondly tucked Bruce against her side and successfully needled Thomas into going to see Bruce’s favorite movie.
It felt like he had his best friend once more, just a little.
From the way Master Bruce stared, it seemed as though he thought the same.
Alfred straightened when young master Damian introduced him. He was the Wayne Family Butler. And she was definitely a Wayne.
Master Bruce stood there like a lout as his daughter greeted him. Alfred shot him a scathing look- he had taught Master Bruce much better manners than to gape, the nerve!- before smoothly directing the attention away. His hands moved as he spoke.
“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss-”
She made a sharp motion to cut him off and signed something. Alfred might be a tad rusty in Arabic sign language (like he and the rest of the family hadn’t spent the last two weeks frantically memorizing and brushing up on their sign language) but he knew a name sign when he saw one.
“al Ghul.” Damian recognized. He did not use regular Arabic Sign Language with her often, vastly preferring their own established sign, but that did not mean he slacked. “You may call her al-Ghul.”
‘Or nothing at all,’ Damian’s sister signed. She looked at him like she was waiting. A test, Alfred realized.
Alfred pushed the slight twinge of disheartening disappointment away. He had wanted to call her Miss Wayne, to perhaps indulge in a bit of nostalgia for a while longer. But he shan’t do it at the expense of his charge.
“Miss al Ghul,” he continued, not missing a beat, imitating the name sign with pin point accuracy. She lifted her chin. Alfred sighed in relief. He passed. And now, perhaps he should revive Ra’s al Ghul and have a nice, entirely civil conversation about Miss al Ghul’s expectation that her wishes would go ignored.
Alfred will bring his shotguns and most likely would abandon pretenses as soon as that old goat got into his crosshairs. Old as he might be, he was still a very good shot, and civility was reserved for those with honor.
“Please head inside. I am sure young master Damian would love to guide you on a tour,” Alfred continued like he didn’t think of violent second deaths for Ra’s al Ghul. “Perhaps Master Bruce will join you, if you are amendable, once he has managed to stop imitating the rather life like form of a smooth brained sloth.”
Alfred congratulated himself on the small crinkle of humor that graced Miss al Ghul’s otherwise expressionless face. Well, expressionless to those that did not know where to look. Fortunately, Alfred and the rest of the family were used to stoic caveman micro expressions, courtesy of Bruce, and therefore it would not be much of a problem.
“I will bring your bags up to your room.”
She scrutinized him and then dipped her head.
‘Be careful. There are dangerous things in there.’
“I assure you the utmost privacy in regards to your belongings,” Alfred said.
“Pennyworth will not peruse your belongings, ukhti. He has more honor and respect than that.”
Alfred would like to interrogate Talia al Ghul to see who he must introduce some lead to, that clearly disrespected Miss al Ghul’s privacy like so. But for now, he will bask in the warmth of young master Damian’s implicit trust.
Miss al Ghul nodded. She opened the trunk of the car- the interior of which Alfred could now perceive to be entirely customized and of extremely quality material. She handed the keys and gave him access to her luggage. Then, placing her hand at young master Damian’s shoulder, followed the young master into the halls where she ought to have been raised. Or, at the very least, ought to have taken a step in at least once before today.
Master Bruce lingered at the doorway, torn between following the siblings and helping Alfred with the luggage (read: running away.)
“The daylight is wasting, Master Bruce.”
Master Bruce skittered in behind them like a newborn colt, wobbling and anxious.
Well, it’s time for Alfred to do his job. There was only a single duffle bag.
Hm. He’ll have to tell Master Bruce to take her out for necessities. He hardly doubted that a single bag could last her very long. And Alfred Pennyworth was hellbent on convincing his granddaughter to stay, may the gods have mercy on whichever poor soul that tried to convince her otherwise for he won’t.
——
She followed Damian as he led her deeper within the walls of a home she knew by heart from afar. She was like the little photographer in that way. Bruce Wayne trailed behind them like a particularly awkward ghoul, and she found it amusing to equate this turtle necked man was the illustrious Dark Knight. How dangerous.
“This is the first parlor. It is for guests of the… regular persuasion.”
Ah, for the civilians. She nodded.
“Ah, the silverware was selected by Alfred.” Bruce interjected, gesturing to the display silverware by the door. Their cabinets were intricate without taking away from the paintings upon the delicate ceramic.
She looked at him, wondering why he was following before giving up and nodding. It was his house.
(Bruce, for his part, felt like his daughter had laid judgement upon him… and found him lacking.)
‘It is… adequate.’ She sighed to Damian. Damian tutted.
“It’s fine to say quaint, sister. It could hardly compare to the palace.”
Bruce jolted, plans for converting the manor into a palace already in the making.
No, he couldn’t. Alfred would murder him with his favorite dish.
‘I like it, even if it is smaller.’
“….you do?”
‘You are happy here. It is warm to you. I like it.’ She repeated.
Damian latched onto her sleeve. “I- I shall show you my art. And then introduce you to the rest of the bumbling fools we have for brothers-”
She tilted her head. Bruce paused as well when Damian’s words cut off.
“If… you want them as brothers. It would be… helpful, to integrate.”
She waited.
“But… I am the first. Your blood. And-”
‘I will make room in my heart for them, if you wish it. I already know some of them.’ She allowed a small smile to show. ‘But that does not mean you will ever lose your place, little bat.’
Damian felt extremely thankful that father had not managed to pick up their version of sign language yet.
“Well… as long as you’re aware.” He marched further into the manor. She followed, once more, a look of fond indulgence gleaming in her eyes.
——
She stood in front of a painting her younger brother had done.
‘I made it two weeks ago,’ he’d told her, fingers curled into her palm.
It was green. She hated green. And gold. And ominous. Rage. Harsh, bold strokes and spots where the texture of the canvas were either globbed over or painfully showing through.
Her hands traced the single stroke of blue amidst the turbulence of green.
She tucked Damian against her side and realized that perhaps he understood after all, what it felt like. Perhaps not all of it, but enough.
——
“Here is your room, ukhti.” Damian stood watch as his sister scanned the room. She quickly removed three listening devices as Damian sighed.
‘You’ve gotten better.’ She crossed the room and plucked the listening bug from its place on the door frame.
“Clearly not good enough.” Damian huffed. “But I have beaten your knife game record. What do you think of the room?”
His sister rolled her eyes and handed him a blade she pulled from somewhere on her person.
An implicit challenge.
“No cutting your fingers off, please.” Father interceded.
“Begone, father. We are doing sibling bonding, something I remember you insisting that I participate in.”
Damian shut the door on his stupefied face, matching his sister’s sharp smirk as he splayed his hand on the dresser and raised the blade.
——
Alfred walked in with a covered plate and paused at the sight of the dresser.
Then, he looked on as Damian sat at the desk, rapidly signing to his sister in their own version of the language as said sister pulled out an entire wardrobe and a half to fill in the walk-in closet.
Alfred made a note to study some more magic.
“Miss al-Ghul. I bring you a snack that young master Damian made and to inform you that the others will be arrive en masse, within an hour.” Alfred paused. “Might I interest you in a mat before the two of you decide to… take a gander at furniture redecoration in the future?”
“Of course, Pennyworth. Apologies.”
“I’ll try to make sure they won’t overwhelm you. They can be a lot, at once.” Bruce said from the doorway. Miss al Ghul glanced at him and dipped her head in thanks. Her eyes wandered right back to the dessert.
Alfred made another note.
‘You made this for me?’ She asked, switching to standard.
Damian grumbled. “Do not eat it. I could not get the spice quite right, no matter how many variations…”
‘I am sure it will be good.’ She took the plate from Alfred’s hand and uncovered it.
They all had the fortune of witnessing a true, genuine wide eyed smile from a stoic face.
Alfred inhaled sharply. He had thought Master Bruce and young master Damian had inherited Thomas’ dimples. But she had inherited his entire smile.
‘Bstilla!’ She turned to Damian. ‘My favorite! You made this?’
“I know that. I am not incompetent as to not notice when you snuck three of them from the palace kitchens. You must give me the recipe from the cooks. I could not get it to taste like the spices they used. I even imported spices!”
Miss al-Ghul, like she had forgotten he and Master Bruce were there, stabbed a fork into the pie and put it into her mouth.
“Ukhti! Don’t- do not eat that! Spit it out! The pastry is too thick and-”
She held up her hand. ‘It’s good. I know what it is missing.’
She strode to her magic bag and pulled out a bottle.
She sprinkled flakes on top and offered a forkful of b’stilla to the young master who, shockingly, did not insist on his own utensil.
His expression lightened. “This is it. What is it? You know of the chefs’ methods?”
She sprinkled the mysterious spice on the food. ‘You’ve never eaten anything the chefs have made. I made your food by hand to prevent assassinations and inoculate you against toxins. Also, this is poison.’
Alfred stiffened.
“It’s what?!” Bruce spoke up, rushing into the room, finally to try and look Damian over.
‘It is fine. He has been immune since he was three.’
Miss al Ghul placed a piece of poisoned b’stilla in her mouth and ate. Young master Damian batted his father off, saying that poison inoculation was hardly a surprise. What was a surprise, though, was something else.
“That is- you- you’re the one who made my meals?” Young Master Damian demanded, looking guilty. “But- I- why did you not tell me? I made all of those demands in the middle of the night- what about the time I sent back the knafe fifteen times?”
She nodded.
“Why would you- why did you not tell me?”
‘You knew what grandfather thought of women. And besides, it was the only time I was allowed sweets. He did not want me to ruin my figure as it would lower my marketability.’
Alfred itched for his gun.
“You are not a commodity,” Master Bruce stated, intense as he tended to be. Miss al Ghul blinked at him.
‘… I am aware. But… thank you.’
“Ah. Yes. Of course.” And there went the emotionally intelligent Master Bruce. May he rest in peace until the next time he decides to make an appearance.
“I believe today is a chocolate chip cookie day, do you not, young master Damian?”
“Yes, Pennyworth, I believe it is.”
‘I have never tried it before.’
“You will love it. Pennyworth’s cookies are the best in the world, as is expected.”
Alfred watched as young master Damian tugged his sister out and marveled. The sides of his grandson they rarely get to see was so easily pulled out by his older sister.
——
Y’all I wanted to write her meeting the siblings but Alfred came out of no where and went haha nope feel the angst of a man who lost his best friend and had to raise her vigilante child.
Alfred, seeing Bruce put on the bat cowl for the first time: martha, why have you forsaken me
——
Me: what would baby assassins play as a binding game?
Me, remembering my past as a kid: I Spy, but with trackers and bugs. oh wait… THE KNIFE GOES CHOP CHOP CHOP
——
Also, I think B’stilla was food meant only for royalty and was probably rooted in slavery, so I thought it would be a meaningful nod to her position of privilege and how she are like a king but was treated as a… bed warmer and a slave. Yeah. If anyone knowledgeable on food history wants to school me on b’stilla, feel free to do so. I did like, a cursory research at best.
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