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#my nose hurts from blowing it so much as well
celticwoman · 1 year
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when will it end!!!!!!!!!!
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ask-chivist · 8 months
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I would say 'not to overshare', but this is tumblr. It's what we do here, right?
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httpsserene · 3 months
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Lando smut driveroom after hia dnf🫠🫠
𝐝𝐧𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬
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summary: what goes down in their driver’s room with you after a dnf. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. hurt/comfort (in a way). sexual propositions. angry sex (implied). depressed charles. mercedes f1 team slander. sir kink. periods. face-sitting, vaginal sex, masturbation, voyeurism, blowjobs, cunnilingus, shower sex (light or implied). pairing: the grid x fem!reader (1,4,16,44,55,81) genre: drabbles.
from serene: river baby, this one’s for you xxx we all know what inspired this one lmao !!! oh, i will not be doing extended fics for any of these, they are just quick drabbles as a little writing exercise for me! (okay, okay, okay, fine i’ll finish toasty part two i promise it'll be released soon)
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𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐱 #𝟏
You’ve never found Max’s skill for talking endlessly annoying or draining. In fact, you can recall telling him that hearing him eagerly explain about racing or other topics that interest him is attractive, multiple times. However, you’re not sure if you can withstand much more of him rambling through a retelling of every single lap he raced before he had to retire, looking for any possible point where he could’ve done something different to prevent it. 
The two of you are sitting on his small couch, pressed side to side, and you’re offering small nods of agreement and hums of understanding during his pauses between words that echo in the small private room. His helmet was shoved in a random cubby, his balaclava draped on top of it but, he hasn’t made any other progress in taking off his race gear. His gloves are still covering his hands as he fiddles with the straps around his wrists, his race suit and boots still properly secured, the smell of sweat and gasoline–the scent of man alluring to your nose–the heat of his body radiating against your side instigating the warmth that floods your cheeks, and the sound of his lisp curling seductively around his speech prompting less than pure thoughts as your heart flutters and thighs press together.
Max is unaware of the sudden twist in your thoughts as he verbally attempts to calculate just exactly where he could’ve improved his outcome, his voice rumbly with an undertone of displeasure, when you cut him off.
“Let me make it better,” you offer.
The Dutch driver cocks his head at you, his expression confused and humored, “How can you make my DNF better? I do not think you can go back in time and—”
“No, Max,” you interrupt, teeth tugging at your bottom lip gently, “Let me sit on your face.”
Visibly, you see his breath catch and eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response, tongue flicking out to dampen his lips as he thinks—before his pupils blow large, and he swallows audibly.
“Oh,” Max starts, finally tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the floor, then moving to undo the strap of his race suit, “That would make it better.”
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𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 #𝟒
He’s pacing the small length of the room angrily, ranting about his retirement loudly enough that you know it’s seeping through the thin walls. You stare at him with a slightly concerned gaze, getting slightly annoyed as his race suit tied low on his hips threatens to smack you in the face every time he turns around. 
You’re well aware that Lando is quick to anger and brood as he freely makes everyone aware of where the blame needs to be placed. But, the dark and unyielding look in his eyes leads you to believe that he’ll be a little too real to the press today and you would hate to have to deal with a simultaneously enraged and ashamed Lando once he realizes what he said. Then, you’ll have to comfort him as he overthinks his words and doom scrolls through Twitter to see what people are saying about him. You would like to sleep tonight, so you can’t have him embarrass himself today. Thankfully, Lando’s a man, a very simple man at his core. 
You stand up from the couch and pull off his hoodie that you stole. Lando continues to rage and pace, not aware of your movement. You undo the buttons of your shirt, shrugging it off to stand in your bra and jeans. Lando doesn’t notice your state of undress until he spins around to find you topless and shimmying your jeans down your hips.
“Um,” Lando stutters, eyes fixed on your tits, “Why are your clothes off?”
“Get over here and fuck your anger out,” you command, “So when you talk to the press, you don’t say the stupid shit you're telling me now.”
Lando mumbles and pouts offended as he scrambles to lose his race suit, “‘s not stupid shit.”
You roll your eyes and reach out to tug him forward strongly, humming as the length of his body knocks against yours, easily stuffing your hand down his fireproofs and kissing on the meat of his neck, “mhm–I’m sure it isn’t.”
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𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 #𝟏𝟔
The room is silent as Charles blankly stares at the wall, you’re not sure if he is aware of your hand comfortingly scratching along his back. He only offered words of exhaustion and depression as he slipped quietly into his room and curled next to you as he dissociated from his retirement.
You’ve tried everything. You cooed soothingly, you complained about the result, and you even loudly expressed how terrible you think the car and Ferrari are and he didn’t say a single word. He simply continued to stare at the wall, his suit and helmet still on, visor down, and expression unreadable. Anxiously, you shifted next to him, not used to experiencing Charles this out of it. And suddenly, the idea came to you. Breaking the silence, you suggested giving him head to relieve his stress. Charles said no. Your brow furrowed perplexed at his denial; he’s never rejected a blowjob before. You took it one step further and offered to let him fuck it out of you (you were previously adamant on the “no sex in the driver’s room” rule because sound carries), and you were sure the Monegasque was about to say yes before he shook his head violently like he was forcibly removing the thought, and mumbled something along the lines of, “I don’t deserve it.” 
That is something you will not let slide. Charles doesn’t need to punish himself after he’s already out of the race, but if he won’t allow himself to indulge in you, you’ll strongly encourage him to.
“Okay, Charlie,” you whisper, “If you’re sure.”
He doesn’t zone back in until he hears your whimpers seep into the air, snapping his head to look at you. He finds you with one hand tugging at your nipple and your other hand shoved under your skirt—from the movement, he can guess that you’re two fingers deep. You hear Charles choke audibly and you can’t help but toss your head back and giggle, the laughter turning into a moan of pleasure as your fingers pass over a sensitive spot.
“I-I think–merde,” Charles cuts himself off as he stares at your show, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
The helmet stays on.
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𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 #𝟒𝟒
You’re unsure if Lewis is even mad about his retirement. The man seems mentally deranged as he laughs gleefully about ending his race early. Understandably, he is complaining about the bottoming of the car and the hell it’s wreaking on his back–so, maybe the joy is justifiable, your man is…older.
The thing is, Lewis switches from rambling about his back pain to complaining about Mercedes and repeating how he can’t wait for a change in scenery at Ferrari. In the Mercedes motorhome. Loudly. You know he’s doing it on purpose based on the vengeful look in his eyes. He recalls almost every single moment the team dismissed his critiques and suggestions, every single moment they didn’t appear at his podiums, every single moment they thought he wouldn’t leave, every single moment they took him for granted. And, Lewis is more than welcome to express his grievances—but you would still like him to leave on good terms as Toto did promise you a custom G-Wagon (not that Lewis can’t get you one himself; you would just hate to see him ruin his connections).
Lewis also can’t help being hot. He sits comfortably splayed out on his couch, a towel tied loosely on his hips from his shower, chest bare as beads of water fall downwards and get caught in the maze of his toned abdomen, his tattoos become art pieces as you appreciate the sight fully. He continues to partake in his amusing one-man conversation as he clasps his chain around his neck—and you break.
“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing, surprised at your own words, “...sir?”
Lewis pauses, raising an eyebrow at you from where you’re leaning on the room door. 
“Well, I don’t know why you’re still standing over there if that’s what you want. Kneel.”
The sound of your knees hitting the floor sings in the air, “Yes, sir.”
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𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢, 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 #𝟖𝟏
Oscar’s already sequestered himself away in his room before you were able to intercept him on his way. The mechanics are lowly gossiping about how mad he was when he pulled himself out of the car and they watch after you in fear as you make your way to your boyfriend.
Oscar? Mad? He’d never take it out on you, there’s no reason for the mechanics to be worried. Except when you enter the room, the vibes are peculiar. Oscar’s calmly folding his race suit, boots tucked away into their proper place, standing in just his fireproofs—they compliment his body well, extremely well. He turns to look at you and there’s a smile on his face as if he hasn’t retired from a race. He opens his arms for a hug, and you hesitate for a moment before fulfilling his request. His arms wrap around you warmly and he nuzzles his face into your hair, pulling back briefly to press a kiss on your forehead before tightening his embrace. It feels more like he’s comforting you than you’re comforting him. He walks the two of you backward to his couch and pulls you down to sit on his lap. 
Somehow, Oscar brightens more, “Hi, baby,” he grins, hands moving to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.
“Uhh, I’m sorry about your race?” Your tone of voice is unsure.
“Oh,” he laughs dismissively, “It happens sometimes–it was listed in the job description.” His right hand slips underneath your shirt as he speaks, moving calmly to tug the cups of your bra down underneath your chest, squeezing lightly at the plush weight in his hand. 
You’re convinced he’s severely concussed, but it doesn’t stop you from arching towards him, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, “Ummm— ‘s there a-anything I can do to help?”
Oscar’s hand draws out of your shirt and halts the grind of your hips in a flash, he coos at you, “Aw, that’s so sweet of you to offer…let me fuck your tits—please?”
What were you going to do, tell him no?
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𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 #𝟓𝟓
You’re going to slam your head on the corner of the sink and hope it knocks you out. You’ll do it if means the sounds of Carlos’ whining stop. He forcibly pulled you up on the counter of the sink and told you to stay put as he showered so he could talk it out to you.
Naively, you thought the sound of the shower running would muffle his words and you were wrong. On any other day, you would be fine to support him through his complaints but your period is due to start in a couple of days and the irritation and sore muscles are already affecting you. Originally, you were eager to watch Carlos shower—that’s a sight plenty of women and men alike would kill you for. Then, the glass fogged with steam depriving you of something to ogle. And, if there’s one thing a woman is experiencing besides pain, sensitivity, and anger before her period, it’s being horny. You rationalize your thought process as you get undressed; Carlos gets some stress relief and you get to hear moans and grunts of pleasure instead of his huffing, grumbling, and whining. 
You slide the glass door open and closed as you step in the shower, completely bare except for the necklaces, earrings, and anklet with the #55 charm he gifted you randomly, “Carlos, por favor, be quiet.”
The Spanish man’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, frozen in the middle of his motion of scrubbing soap along his arm, “¿Qué?”
You roll your eyes, tugging the soapy cloth out of his hand and setting it on the shower shelf, “There’s better things you could be doing with your mouth.”
Carlos blinks, returning to the present and sinking to his knees in the too-small shower. 
He stares up at you with his big, sweet, lust-drenched, brown eyes, his hair a mess from the spray of the shower, and his voice cracking as he speaks, “Yes, definitely.”
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© httpsserene2024
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
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Zayne: Morning Afterglow
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Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, 2k words, no plot (just a lazy morning), gentle (?) sex, Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, sensual love making. AFAB!reader, Reader may or may not be the mc.
Author's note: how do you write gentle sex exactly???? request made by anon!
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A big hand roamed the expanse of your back, tasting its warmth.
For a second, the touch disappeared, changing to a single finger. Carefully, it traced every dip and crevice formed by your position as you lay on your side—your spine, the dip in your shoulder blades, the folds of your love handles, and your Venus dimples.
You held your breath at the thought of Zayne doing it. He's been doing this the whole week. Whenever you were distracted by something, his hand would always come into contact with your body, touching it for his own amusement. It wasn't even intimate or erotic; it was just plain eccentric and out of character.
"Are you that interested in my body? How scandalous of you, Dr. Zayne!" You exclaimed, over-exaggerating your tone.
To your words, he merely responded with a blink and a stare before turning away from you. You were perplexed. Who wouldn't be?! Is this his way of getting accustomed to touching you?
"I know you're awake," Zayne whispered, his lips just behind your ears. You shiver at the lowness of his voice and stiffen as his hand lands on your hips. "Why are you holding your breath?"
"I was woken up to you touching me," you replied back. It's not that you were complaining about it, but it felt… nice. Even if there was no malice to his touch, it sent a small jolt of electrical shock from your back to everywhere. "But good morning."
Zayne's lips touched the nape of your neck, placing a light kiss. His hand, which was on your hip, traced carefully from your waist up to your shoulder. You can't help but crave a kiss, so you slightly turn behind you and meet his face. "Are you still sore from last night?" he gently asked, giving another peck on the forehead.
You shook your head from side to side.
"Good," he whispered, accompanied by a kiss on the nose. Zayne tugged off the plain white duvet that was the only thing covering your naked body. That took you off guard. "May I?" he asked, and you finally rolled to his side of the bed, revealing yourself in all your naked glory. Hickey-riddled neck and collarbones, your stomach, your pinkish thighs, and your supple breasts. He basked in the sight of you riddled with his love marks.
"What's gotten you so eager this morning?" you asked, but he did not respond. He simply pulled you closer and finally laid a kiss on your lips. You had to blink thrice before giving in to his all-too-gentle kiss—a stark contrast to the harsh, hungry kisses he was gnawing out of you last night.
You opened your lips and let his tongue enter, pushing and sliding against yours while shallow whimpers escaped your mouth. You could still taste the sweetness of the chocolate from last night. His hand didn't lay dormant; it stroked and touched everything it came across before landing on your nipples.
"Mhm?" you let out when his cold fingertips brushed the peak of your breasts. You arched your chest out even further in the hopes of coming into contact with his fingers again. Your breasts were more sensitive that morning, probably due to Zayne's rough suckling and kneading. The light hue had turned more reddish, and it seemed like they were almost swollen, yet they didn't hurt at all.
You and your lover pulled away from the kiss, a silver thread connecting both of your tongues. Zayne adored the redness of your ears and your low-lidded eyes; you were in a trance as well, certainly in the mood for much more.
He got on his elbows and lowered his face onto your left breast, blowing on it. You flinched at the cold air, making you grab a fistful of his black locks. You glared at him, and he grinned. He opened his mouth and gently lapped at your breast. The other hand found its way to the right and flicked on the nipple at the same time his tongue struck up.
"Ah…" Your back lifted slightly, but the rest of Zayne's body was pressing you down. Despite it not hurting, he was still gentle with his actions. He sucked lightly, swirling his tongue and teasing the bud. You enjoyed the efforts of his mouth and fingers, letting out a sequence of weak moans.
Every movement was like a small electric spark from your chest down to your womanhood.
You can't help but let out ragged breaths as your heart beat strongly against your chest. You attempted to calm yourself down by staring at the ceiling, yet Zayne playfully bit your nipple and pinched the other. You thrust your hips against his stomach and let out a loud, unguarded moan.
You could feel something hardening and rubbing against your own thigh, but you couldn't really care less because your lover showered your torso with so many kisses. He left trails and trails of them all over, worshipping your body like a devoted believer. He went lower and lower, and his mouth stopped right at your entrance.
Zayne paused, eyeing every mark he left. He then eyed your womanhood, gazing at it with slight hunger.
The warmth of Zayne's body had disappeared from your own, and the cold wind of the air conditioner took its place. There came the slight embarrassment on your face—he was staring for too long, even if there was nothing to look at down there.
You instinctively closed your thighs shut, but it was soon a futile attempt as Zayne's hands held them open. "Don't close your legs, Honey." Zayne could see the blush on your cheeks, and you couldn't do anything other than lay your head back and wait. For dear life, you grabbed one of Zayne's pillows and pressed it over your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Partially, it was because you were shy, but deep down, you did it because you wanted to feel the sensation even more.
You waited. The minute seemed like an hour, but then finally, finally, you could feel your lover's mouth. You swallowed your saliva and spread your legs a little wider. Zayne kissed the inners of your thighs and gave you a generous, fluid-coated lick, lathering your pussy. You throbbed as his hot tongue brushed on the lips of your womanhood.
"Mhhm," you let out. His finger briefly disappeared from your thighs, but then you suddenly felt yourself being opened. You pressed the pillow harder on your eyes to cope with the embarrassment you felt at being wide open. It wasn't your first time with Zayne, and it's not uncommon for him to do this, but every time, you can't help but feel the shame.
Your hips squirmed at the cold air, but at the same time, you throbbed, feeling a slimy fluid drip out of your hole. "Zayne…" you called in the hopes that he could hurry it up. The surgeon's green eyes flickered up to you, but he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Why were you covering your face with the pillow?
Swiftly, he yanked it away from you and discarded it to the floor. And while you were in the midst of complaining, his tongue nudged your clit. Slowly, you could feel Zayne's tongue move side to side, firmly and quickly, wasting no time to prepare you. "Ah! Ah! Zayne!" you screamed, hips bucking higher to add more pressure to his face. He wrapped his hands around your thigh while your hand was still in his hair.
He continued eating you out, holding you in the same position all the while he got drunk off of the lewd noises that came from your mouth. You were ebbing at the sensation. Your sex organ was clenching and relaxing at the pleasurable sensations coming from your clit. "Ah—Zayne, I'm—" You couldn't continue your words.
The moment you locked eyes with Zayne, a gentle heat radiated from your core.
The muscles in your legs tightened, and your back arched. A familiar, wonderful tingle erupted out of your vagina. You felt yourself burst, the uninterrupted pleasure prolonged by Zayne's continuous lapping. He held on to you and focused on your reactions, adoring how you whimpered out of pleasure.
You basked momentarily in the bliss that your body had experienced, ignoring your lover, who quietly disappeared from between your legs. You closed your eyes for a moment.
You didn't know what it was you experienced, but it was certainly new—an orgasm that wasn't hard, yet it was a satisfactory one. You stared at the ceiling, a portion of your energy depleted from the early morning activities. Your lids grew heavy, and the cool breeze was nice against the skin, but before you could even doze off, a hand wrapped itself around your calves.
"Eh?" one of your legs had been hung above Zayne's shoulder, and when you glanced to look, there he was again in between your legs. Zayne's cock stood upright, rock solid, like it was ready to burst.
"Can…I put it in?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on your ankle. His ears were deep red, and his eyes were almost pleading. Who could say no to him? You nodded, and Zayne aligned himself with your entrance.
The high and sensitivity from your orgasm were still there, but you were still eager to move on. You marveled at Zayne's well-toned torso, seeing it move as he thrust his hip forward, careful not to hurt you. The stretch didn't hurt; if anything, it felt good. He pushed himself in further, stopping every now and then because your insides were throbbing.
Your insides squeezed his cock in an irregular rhythm, and it felt good. It was hot inside you, and he was craving more, but it felt like It was the right moment to bask in this sensation. Zayne began to lightly move his hips, giving you shallow thrusts. He held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a bit while his other hand was guiding his hip.
Heavy breaths escaped from his lips. He was trying his best to hold back, but he couldn't help but let out a few mewls. It felt good inside you. Maddeningly good, yet uncannily, there was no urge to go rougher. He wanted to take his sweet time.
His shallow thrusts went deeper and deeper until you were practically being rocked against him. Your skin rubbed against the sheets while your insides felt like they were being repeatedly stretched, filled one moment and empty the next. Your vision was turning white, flickering with every movement.
Zayne's pace was becoming faster and faster, and it was evident that he was moving to please himself even more. His girth was perfect, managing to add just the right amount of pressure to your favorite spot while his tip kept kissing and touching your cervix. He relished how you were sucking him in, not wanting to let go.
He kept his pace for a little while longer, but then he changed his position, lifting the other leg and pushing himself right over you. He dipped his hips into your opening. "Deep…" you panted. "Zayne—you're so deep…" He kept on doing it until you could practically hear both of your skins making slapping noises.
The series of noises grew louder and louder until Zayne wasn't holding back his relished moans, the guttural noises turning you on even more. He lowered his head to your ear and nibbled lightly while he pushed open your fingers, intertwining them together. "Cumming…mhm!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting, getting sloppier until Zayne buried himself, his everything, into yours.
You let out a choked cry, and Zayne let out a quivering moan in return, his abs and body stiffening as you felt spurts of white hit against your inner flesh. It was hot—and filling you up.
He thrust a little bit more, eager to prolong his ejaculation, but soon after, his body wilted onto yours.
"Honey," you cried, tapping his sweat-riddled back. Your lover was still breathing heavily, a little fuzzy over his climax. "You're heavy…" you whispered in his ear. While he kept himself inside you, as more seconds passed, you felt him go a little softer, with his breathing balanced out. When you turned your head, merely centimeters apart from his—he was fast asleep.
"A lazy day it is," You thought, falling asleep while being crushed underneath your lover's weight.
It was a peaceful morning in your residence.
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Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.
Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
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yuukiiqwq · 6 months
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Our Blue Spring: Gojo Satoru x Reader
Time stopped for you that day. That day where all four of you are laughing together, the sun brightly shining, the wind gently blowing, the sky a beautiful blue, where all of you believed everything was going to be alright.
Tags/Warning: Fem!reader, Teen!Gojo, Reader is a jujutsu sorcerer, Fluff, Gojo in love, Gojo in denial, One-Shot
˚✧˚. Wc: 2.5k ˚✧˚.
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"Shoko! I need help!" Satoru burst through Shoko's door. "I think I'm dying!"
Shoko turned around to face Satoru. She did not want to deal with his childish antics right now. It was 8am in the morning, and she was surviving on less than 2 hours of sleep.
"Gojo Satoru. I haven't had my morning coffee yet. Do not talk to me until I have my coffee. I am not ready for whatever thing you have to say."
Satoru put his hand on his chest and whined dramatically– "You wound me Shoko! I could be dying right now, and all you care about is coffee!"
"Please do. It would save everyone from your annoyance," Shoko sighs.
"I am not annoyi–"
"Just tell me why you think your dying when you're perfectly fine."
"Well–" Satoru quickly plopped down on Shoko's chair and leaned his head back. "Lately, my heart had been beating super fast and–"
"Out of nowhere?" Shoko interrupted.
"Well, no but–"
"So around someone?"
"Technically, yes, but will you–"
"Around who?"
Satoru huffed angrily and crossed his arm. "Will you let me finish first! It's like I'm being ignored here!"
Shoko ignored his comment and continued– "Around wh–"
"Nuh, uh! Let me finish talking first!" Satoru immediately interrupted. "So, as I was saying before, I was rudely interrupted."
Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment because Satoru always rudely interrupted people when they're talking.
"Lately, my heart always beat super fast around her, and my eyes always follow her around. I always want to see her smile and see her happy. Whenever I see her sad or hurt–" Satoru grasped his shirt tightly where his heart was and looked down– "My chest hurts. It feels like someone ripped my heart out, which is impossible since I'm the strongest!"
Shoko had an expression of shock before it turned into amusement.
"And who is this girl?"
"Y/N! She must have cursed me, right? She must be envious of how strong I am despite her always denying it! Shoko! Diagnose me! I'm sure I'm dying!"
Shoko couldn't help but laugh at this predicament.
"Why are you laughing?" Satoru pouted. "I'm dying, and you're laughing at me."
Shoko eyes sparkled in amusement and mischief.
"You're diagnosed with love."
"What?"
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"Suguruuuuu!"
"No, Satoru. I don't want to listen to you complain about your crush for the 50th time today."
"I don't like her! I just–you know!" Satoru whined and made some weird hand gestures.
"Satoru. I swear to God, I will summon a curse right now to eat you. Ever since that day where Shoko diagnose you with love, you only talked about her, complained about how much you like her, how she doesn't pay enough attention to you and then denies it the very next second." Suguru sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can already feel an upcoming headache from this conversation.
"I don't like her!" Satoru whines again. "I don't like her just because my eyes follow wherever she goes. I just want to be close to her at all time! It's not my fault my heart and soul desires hers. It's not like I want her to be mine or anything! I don't like her like that."
"Satoru. You're contradicting yourself in every sentence."
"Excuse me? I am not!" He crosses his arms and starts to sulk.
"Are you guys fighting again?"
They both turned around to see you and Shoko carrying drinks.
"They're probably were being the idiot they are. Always fighting about the stupidest things." Shoko sighs and puts down the drinks on the table. "And they're the ones who made us go out and buy them drinks. I should be the one beating them up."
"Satoru was complaining about his crush again. This is like the 50th time today." Suguru grabs the newly brought coffee from the table. "Even coffee won't save me from this catastrophe."
"Geez Satoru, poor Suguru having to go through all that," you laughed. "When are you going to tell us who got you all whipped up?"
All three of them stared at you. Like stared at you.
"Why are you guys staring at me? I'm sure all three of us want to know who he likes since all he talks about is her."
"It's nothing to worry your pretty head about," Satoru says as he grabs his coma-inducing drink.
"You wouldn't understand since you're so oblivious to such obvious hints," Shoko said as she sat down and grabbed her coffee. "He's absolutely smitten by her, and the girl is completely oblivious."
This immediately causes Satoru to complain – "Excuse you! I do not give out obvious hints, and I absolutely am not smitten! I do not like her like that!"
What you didn’t notice during this time was how he kept sneaking quick glances at you. It's not like he can help it! You obviously had some dust on you, and it was bothering him!
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"Why is she with Nanami!? I'm so much cooler than Nanami!" Satoru glares at you who is busy talking to Nanami. "Why isn't she spending time with me!"
At this moment, all Suguru wanted to do was to dump Satoru into the trash can. Shut the lid and hope that the garbage man takes him far away. Not that it will help since Satoru could teleport.
"For the love of everything nice, Satoru just confesses that you're in love with her. Stop being in denial. I'm going to lose my mind listening to you complain every day about the same thing."
Satoru huffed– "It's not love!"
"Satoru, listen. What if someone comes up to her and takes her away from you? What are you going to do?"
"That's such an easy question!" Satoru laughed. "I can use reversal red on them, duh! Even their ashes won't remain!"
"What if she likes them too? Or what happens when we lose her all together? You know being a sorcerer is dangerous," Suguru sighed.
That immediately stopped Satoru from laughing. The smile immediately wiped away from his face, and the light in his eyes dimmed. The expression on Satoru's face was fear? Uneasiness? For once, Suguru couldn't tell what expression was on Satoru's face. He couldn't figure out what he was feeling.
"Satoru?"
No response.
"Satoru," Suguru shaked his shoulder. "Satoru."
Saroru snapped out of his daze. A smile immediately reappeared on his face, and his eyes light up once more.
"Hm? What did you say, Suguru? You bored me so much with your rambling that I dazed off~"
"Satoru–"
Before Suguru can reply– "Satoru! Suguru!"
Both of them look toward the sound of your voice. You were dragging Nanami toward them.
"Ah, finally bored of just talking to Nanami?" Satoru laughed as he walked up to meet you halfway. He then put his arms around Nanami. "Nanami is quite boring compared to me after all~"
You stared at him and then frowned. "Satoru."
"Hm?" He hummed as he tilt his head to face you.
"What's wrong? You're acting stran–"
"Nothing is wrong," he immediately interrupted you, smiling brightly. "You're imagining things. Everything is fine, right Suguru?"
Your frown deepen. Something wasn't right.
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Satoru felt like using reverse red. For all he knows, all he can see is red. Today was the day of the goodwill event, and there was this guy from Kyoto Tech who's putting his hands all over you. He felt like something was clawing his chest open. Sure, there is a rule of no killing, but surely they'll understand that his hand slipped, right? He just wanted to get rid of that weird feeling in his chest.
He then felt someone's hand on his shoulder.
"Jealousy is an ugly look, Satoru. You're going to stare a hole into that guy."
"I'm not jealous, Suguru. That guy just looks so annoying! He's annoying me by existing! I just think my hand is slipping, which might cause me to accidently use reversal red."
Suguru shakes his head in amusement.
"Whatever you say, Satoru. But she doesn't need rescuing Satoru," Suguru said as he pointed toward your direction. "Look."
They watched you as you elbowed the guy in the guts. The guy crumbled onto the floor, and you leaned down and said something to him before you noticed both of them. You immediately smiled and came up to them.
Suguru laughed as he ruffled your hair– "Ouch. That looks like it hurts a lot."
"He deserved it," you huffed. "He was annoying and being a disgusting pervert."
"Surely I can reverse red him, right? I mean, it's not like anyone will notice him gone–"
"Absolutely not, Satoru!" You quickly turned to look at him. "The rule of this event is absolutely no killing even if he's a creep!"
Satoru looked you in the eyes and then whined– "Fineeeee. No killing! Maybe a few broken bones or–"
"Satoru!"
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The sun was setting, and when the goodwill event ended, the guy from earlier has seen much better days. He was covered in bruises, broken bones, and a few fractures. But it's ok! He's just an NPC that no one would care about, as Satoru claimed.
"See, I didn't kill him!" Satoru exclaimed as he waited for you to compliment him.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Good job, I guess."
"You guess?? How rude! I defended your honor!" Satoru complained.
"You saw me elbowing his gut this morning, Satoru," you replied, which led to Satoru to look away and sulk.
You laughed at his behavior before saying– "The sunset is beautiful today."
Satoru looked back up but not at the sunset. He looked at you. The way the light kissed your skin made you look beautiful. He felt his breath get taken away by your beauty. You were always beautiful to him. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.
"Yeah. Absolutely beautiful."
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After the goodwill event passed, Satoru was acting weird. Yeah, he's normally weird, but this was a whole different weird. Lately, he always seems to be in a daze thinking about something.
Today, you guys decided to go to the park to hang out, but Satoru was even more unusually quiet.
"Satoru! Earth to Satoru!" You called as you wave your hand over his face.
"Huh?" Satoru snapped out of his daze. "What's happening?"
"Shoko and Suguru went to buy some popsicles. You didn't answer them, so they said they'll make sure not to get you anything," you shaked your head and sighed. "We called you multiple times, but you didn't answer. What's on your mind lately? I'm worried about you."
Satoru bit the bottom of his lips and got up from the swing. He pushed you to sit down on the swing and held the chain with his hands.
"Satoru?" You tilted your head to the side in confusion.
He took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes.
"I have something to say. I think I'm in love."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Satoru quickly continued.
"Don't say anything until I finish."
You closed your mouth and nodded. Satoru's cheek was dusted in a shade of light pink. You couldn't help but think about how cute he looked in this moment.
"You remember asking who I was 'whipped' up for? The one I always complain to Suguru about?"
You slowly nodded your head.
"It's you. It's always been you. My heart always beat uncontrollably fast around you. All my thoughts are consumed by you and only you. I want you to be happy. I want you to smile. I never want to see you hurt. I don't ever want to see you sad. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what life would be like without you and... it's hard to imagine. I feel like there's this hole in my chest when I imagine what life would have been like without you. Maybe I have been denying my feelings for a long time despite knowing that I was in love."
You notice how Satoru was trembling. He was scared.
"I'm scared. I'm scared of these new and weird feelings in my chest. I'm scared of love. I'm scared of the changes it will bring. I'm scared of the pain of losing you because I love you. I'm scared to lose you. I'm scared to imagine my life without you. But I want you to be mine. I love you. I love you so much that I feel like dying without you. Will you please date me? Go on a date with me? Let me court you? Be my girlfriend? Let me call you mine? Please?"
You were beyond surprised. You didn’t expect him to confess to you out of everyone. You definitely didn’t expect him to pour out all his feelings either. But it was a pleasant surprise. You couldn’t help but smile gently at Satoru.
"Satoru." You said as you cupped his face.
He looks at you, eyes gleaming with anticipation and fear.
"I'll date you."
The second you said those three words, Satoru eyes light up with happiness.
"Really?" He asked as he took your hands off his cheek and into his own.
"Really."
Satoru immediately pulled you up from the swing, lifted you up, and spinned you around. He couldn't help but feel relieved that you agreed to date him. He felt extremely happy. He felt like he had the world in his hands, and in a way, he did. Because you are his world.
"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he laughed.
You couldn't help but laugh along with him. After all, he had the brightest smile on his face right now. He was radiating pure happiness. He gently put you back down onto the ground and leaned down towards you.
"I want to kiss you. May I? Or am I moving too fast?"
You smiled, leaned in, and wrapped your arms around his neck– "You may."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. When he leaned down and your lips gently connected, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. A feeling of warmth spread across your body. It was like everything was perfect. Like it was meant to be. It felt just right.
When your lips parted, both of your cheeks were dusted with a shade of pink. You stared in each other's eyes for a moment before both of you crack a smile.
"About flipping time."
Both of you jumped and turned around to see Shoko and Suguru. Their eyes were sparkling, and they had a smirk on their face.
"You guys–" you started as you carried a massive blush on your face. "How long have you been there?"
"The whole time," Shoko laughed as she shook her head.
You looked down and then noticed that they hadn't brought any popsicles like they said they were going to.
"Man," Satoru whined and nuzzled against you. "You guys totally set this up, didn't you?"
A moment of silence passed before you let out a laugh. Your laugh caused Satoru to start laughing as well. Which ended up with all four of you standing there laughing.
In your mind right now, time stopped. All four of you together, the sun brightly shining, the wind gently blowing, the sky a beautiful blue, where all of you believed everything was going to be alright.
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Author's note: I struggled a lot with deciding the ending... I wanted it to be a happy ending, but I also originally planned for a sad ending. After going back and forth for a while, I decided a happy ending with a tiny hint of angst. 🩵
1K notes · View notes
miirohs · 3 months
Text
sore wa hanabi [k.s]
pairing: Ken Sato x GN!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: n/a an: this was inspired by hanabi by ikimonogakari and motospeed 24 by bibi, i fucking love those songs so much UGH. pls ignore the plot holes i was tired and it was like 12 when i started!!! i love writing chat
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The last of the sunlight rippled across the water, a slow breeze blowing past you on the steps of the house, watching as the city seemed to come alive.
The sounds of a motorcycle in the distance distracted you, head shooting up from your knees as Professor Sato limped out of the front door, gently setting down his walking stick as he sat next to you.
“He’s coming back home then?”
It wasn’t really a question, rather a statement.
“I believe so. He was out for interviews almost all day.”
He didn’t respond, digging into the pocket of his khaki vest, pulling out a worn flyer and handing it to you.
“What is this?” You asked, gently unfolding the colorful paper.
“It was a fireworks festival. I’m sure they still hold them yearly around here, and Emiko took Kenji often when he was younger. I’ve seen it myself from the apartments sometimes, and they’re a sight to see.” He explained softly, smiling into the distance as your eyes flitted over the contents.
“I see, but what exactly-”
“I think you should go see them, you and Kenji need some alone time as well,” He didn’t let you finish, poking your leg with his walking stick, “Plus, it would be good for me and Mina because we need to get more data on Emi, and Ken won’t let us do that without breath down my shoulders about us hurting her.” 
You could barely respond as he got up, limping his way back to the door without further explanation. “But Ken is going to want to see Emi and-”
“Me and Mina can take care of her if anything happens. If the boy troubles you about that, tell him I told you he was to do so. He may be Ultraman now, but I'm still his father!” He cackled, shaking his head affectionately as he closed the door gently.
The light was gone now, but you could hear the sound of his bike getting closer, rubbing your arms to regain your warmth as you waited. Soon enough, Ken appeared against the twilight sky, silhouette illuminated by the headlights of his parked bike.
“Hey baby, what are you doing out here?” he greeted, tone filled with a mixture of exhaustion and relief upon seeing you.
“The weather was nice out, and the view was gorgeous.” You responded, turning to him as he sat down next to you. “The view is gorgeous from inside too,” He joked, intertwining a hand into yours, “I don’t get why you wanna sit out here, it’s cold and you don’t even have a jacket on.”
You clutched the paper in your other, taking a deep breath in. You had no reason not to, it could be a good surprise.
“You know, i was thinking we haven’t had a proper date night since we moved here and-”
“We had a movie night though!” Ken chimed in, staring at you, confused. It was like he couldn’t see where you were going with it. “Yes, we had a movie night honey, but it was interrupted every ten minutes by the loud baby we happen to be taking care of, remember?” You said, exasperated. 
“I would baby, but what about Emi?” 
“Your dad and Mina can take care of her. He said you’d trouble me about it, and that I should tell you that he insists.” You tilted your head towards the city.
Ken chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like him honestly, but where do you wanna go? You gotta have something planned if you’re insisting on dragging me out.”
“I was thinking we could ride through the city, I'm pretty sure the seaside looks gorgeous at night.” You could barely hold back your smile as he wrinkled his nose, it was almost like you could see the gears turning in his head.
The exhaustion almost seemed to leave his face, a smile taking its place. “Alright, you win. Go get your jacket and meet me out here in… five?” You nodded, getting up from your spot.
“Five minutes,” you repeated to yourself softly, heading inside to grab your jacket. The excitement was building as you folded up the paper, gently hiding it in your pocket as you grabbed your helmet.
He was already near the motorcycle, leaned over the dashboard as you approached him, barely able to contain the excitement.
“I think you remember how to ride a bike, right baby?” You nodded, allowing him to put your helmet on for you, securing it till you felt comfortable. “Of course. I’m ready when you are.”
Ken winked, helping you onto the bike before climbing on himself. The engine roared to life and you wrapped your arms around his waist, adrenaline running through your veins as you started down the path. The wind was fast, seawater blowing into your face as you both skirted across the water.
​​The city was a blur of nightlights as you weaved through the streets, laughs of delight leaving your mouth as you turned and sped down the straights. The neon signs and billboards created a colorful mosaic, a dazzling display of light. 
Ken glanced back at you briefly, shouting something at you, a wide smile on his face as he pressed down on the accelerator.
“This feels so familiar, what are you doing to make this happen baby?!” You pressed your face into his face, barely hiding the grin on your face as you shouted back. “A magician never tells Ji!” 
You slowed near the city limits, allowing for you to nudge him in the direction you wanted to go. The city faded into quieter roads, riding on the outskirts of the city, the smell of the sea intermingling with the scent of his perfume. The waves crashed against the seawall, spraying you with water.
You looked up, narrowed eyes growing wide as bright lights went off in the sky.
“There, look!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the rush of wind and the distant explosions of the fireworks. You squeezed Ken’s waist, taking one hand off to point up at the sky.
He followed your hand, relaxing in awe as he watched the colorful display unfold above you. It wasn’t long until you found a place to park, Ken eagerly pulling you off the motorcycle, running down to the beach with you in hand.
“Sup- Whoa, surprise Ji!” You laughed as you both stumbled, pulling closer to the source of the lights. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath your feet as you stood on the shore, fireworks exploding in a variety of colors.
Greens, pinks and golds colored the sky, painting the dark with bangs of light, fizzling out just as quickly as they came up.
“Your mom used to bring you here before you moved, didn’t she?” You looked at him, the light reflecting in his glassy eyes, softened by nostalgia.
"Yeah, she did. How did you know?"
“I’ve heard a thing or two about your trips.” You commented to the side, allowing him to lead you aimlessly, "I thought you might like to revisit those memories." You squeezed his hand as he paused once more, turning to look at you.
“She used to call them something else- hanabi. It was the Japanese word for fireworks, I think.” He brought up a hand, wiping his eye on his free arm.
“That sounds beautiful,” You turned to him, floating closer and closer every second.
There was nothing more to be said, holding his hand with as much affection as you could, fireworks exploding somewhere in the background. The light illuminated the sharpness of his features, and you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Ken. 
His lips met yours, soft yet firm. The fireworks seemed to pause for that brief moment, allowing you to be trapped in the bubble you’d made for yourselves. Ken's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if he was never going to let go.
en rested his forehead against yours as you pulled apart. His eyes scanned yours, as if trying to capture every detail of the moment to memory.
"I've missed this," Ken murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled away.
“No kidding, we should do this more often shouldn’t we?” You giggled, running your finger down the ridges of his nose, booping the tip.
Ken nodded quietly, allowing you to lean in closer once more. "Definitely. It's moments like these that make life more bearable."
You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The last of the embers faded into the sky, pieces of your heart drifting off with them as you watched Ken.
"Let's come back here again," Ken suggested softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "Definitely," you agreed. You could get used to it.
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evie-sturns · 24 days
Text
upset - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: after a terrible day, your best friend chris, always knows how to cheer you up.
contains: flufffff, crying, comforting, teasing, bestfriend!chris, flirty friendship.
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my hands shake as i speak on the phone to my boyfriend, well ex boyfriend.
ive been dating noah for the past year, everything had been perfect until today.
he called me 5 minutes ago with no warning, then broke up with me. it was so blunt, he had no emotion to his voice at all.
now i'm left desperately talking to noah on the phone.
"i- i dont understand.. it doesn't make sense noah? c'mon..?" my voice quivers, clutching the phone up to my ear,
"it'll be fine, just move on f'me yeah?" noah speaks, he almost sounds bored.
"why? what is- what's your reason!?" i raise my voice, holding back tears.
"just don't fuck with you anymore sweetheart, i'm sorry." noah says with a small laugh before hanging up.
im in such a state of shock i can't even fully process this.
my first instenct is to call my bestfriend, chris.
"chris! chris please come over right now." i practically burst into sobs as soon i speak, i hear a small gasp from his end before shuffling.
"yeah- yeah! i'm coming right now, ill only be a minute." chris speaks, his voice soft as though hes trying to calm me.
"thank you." i whimper into the phone before hanging up.
---
i hear two soft knocks at my bedroom door, followed by chris's voice.
"can i come in?" he asks, gently twisting my door knob before walking into my bedroom.
im sat cross legged on my bed,
"oh sweetheart." chris sighs, walking over to me and sitting down on the matress infront of me.
"can i have a hug.." i cry,
chris wraps his large arms around me, pulling me to his body.
"whats happing y/n.." chris whispers into my hair, his hand reaching up and stroking my back.
"n-n-noah- noah broke up with me!" i stammer out between hiccups.
i physically feel chris tense, his grip on me tightening slightly.
"im so sorry," chris sighs into my ear, i bury my face into his shoulder.
"he didnt even- even give a warning and he was so mean about it chris!" i choke out,
chris just nods, letting me speak.
"i hate him! i hate him so much!" i cry, my voice breaking.
"i know you do, you hate him don't ya?" chris says softly, stroking my hair.
"i do!" i sob,
"i know it hurts sweetie, i'm right here." chris mutters,
i slowly pull away from his shoulder,
chris gives me a sorry smile, his eyes roaming my face, which is a total wreck.
i have snot running down my face, which chris seems to take amusment to.
he grabs a tissue from my bedside table and holds it up to my nose.
"big blow for me?" chris speaks, then instanltly slams a hand over his mouth with a small 'sorry.'
i crack a small smile,
chris pinches the tissue to my nose, "blow blow blowww"
i pathetically blow my nose into the tissue,
"good girlllll, that’s right." chris smiles,
“let’s get you ready for bed okay? try sleep it off yeah?” chris suggests, staring into my eyes.
i nod, wiping my nose.
he lifts me up off the bed, i flail my legs as i clutch onto his shoulders.
“if you drop me i swear to god!” i attempt to raise my strained voice.
“i’m not gonna drop ‘ya sweet girl.” chris says taking me into the bathroom,
he sets me down on my feet infront of the sink,
i stare at my red, mascara-stained face. only causing more tears to start up,
chris instantly grabs my chin, “shh- shh.” he whispers
“let’s wash your face okay? don’t worry about noah, i promise if he could hurt you this much so easily there’s no point in being upset over him.”
i nod at him,
chris rubs my back, running the cold water.
he stands behind me, slowly tipping my head fowards under the stream of the tap.
he cups water in his hands and brings it up to my face, gently washing away the mascara.
“that feels better doesn’t it.” chris smiles gently, drying my face with his shirt.
i nod, wiping my puffy eyes.
he guides me out into the bedroom,
i slowly shimmy towards him with my arms open, pulling him into a tight hug.
he rubs my back as i bury my face into his shoulder, “you know i love you so much, i’m so sorry he hurt you, you don’t deserve any of it.” chris sighs,
i nod shakily,
“he didn’t know what to do with such a pretty girl like you, i’m sure of it.” chris speaks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
i don’t let him go, holding him tight.
“i know it’s hurting so so much right now, but it’ll get better.” chris says,
i slowly pull away from his chest,
“y-you’re my bestfriend chris, i love you.” i sniff, my voice cracking as i bury my face back into him.
he laughs lightly, “i love you too,”
“are you sleepy?” chris asks, rubbing my back.
i shake my head, “just sad.” i say with a frown.
“do you want to do something to distract you?” chris asks,
i nod, wiping my nose with the back of my hand
“you wanna bake?” he asks,
baking has always been my favourite thing ever, chris knows that.
i nod my head frantically,
he scoops me up off my feet and starts to run down the hallway,
i scream with a loud laugh, clutching him tight, “CHRIS!!”
he grins widely, running me into the kitchen and setting me down on the counter top.
“we’re making cookies i don’t care what you say.” chris chuckles, grabbing out ingredients.
he sets down most of the right ingredients, and grabs a bowl
“not that bowl!! that’s my vomit bowl!” i laugh,
he grimaces with a smile, “stinkyyy”
he pulls out a new bowl and puts it in my lap,
he turns back around and grabs butter, throwing it onto the counter beside me.
i go silent,
suddenly i burst into tears, again.
chris’s eyebrows instantly furrow, he grabs my shoulders, “hey- hey-“ he speaks softly
“i’m sorry- noah- noah used to use that butter to butter my toast every morning.” i sob,
chris picks up the butter,
abruptly chris hurls it across the room into the trash can, with impressive aim.
“then we won’t use butter!” he smiles, wiping my eyes with his buttery fingers.
i crack a smile, before laughing loudly.
he grins proudly at my smile, “there she is!”
i cover my face with my hands as i laugh, “don’t look at me!!”
“i want to look at youuu.” chris smiles, peeling my hands away from my face
i smile at him, “let’s just make the cookies.”
he nods, “good plan.”
he starts to put oil and brown sugar into the bowl,
“oil?” i question,
“i mean it’s basically butter.” he replies,
“fair enough.” i laugh, pouring in the sugar with no measurements whatsoever.
“okay, now flour.” chris says, he grabs the flour back and holds it up to my nose
“sniff it.” he smiles,
i furrow my eyebrows and sniff it,
chris suddenly presses both sides of the back together, causing flour to puff up all over my face.
i gasp, my whole face white, “chris!!!”
he erupts into laughter, bringing his hands up and dusting it off my face.
i’m in total shock before giggling along with him, peeling open my eyes
“you are such a moron!” i laugh, grabbing a handful of flour and slamming it onto his cheeks gently.
he goes to reach for more flour, but i grab his wrist.
he gives me a small pout, clearly trying to hold back a grin.
“okay- cookies!” i smile, pouring the flour into the cookie dough
he mixes it with a wooden spoon, before dumping in half the bag of chocolate chips.
“dude we should just make one massive cookie.” chris states,
i roll my eyes, “chris.”
“pllllleeeaseee.” he grins,
“fine.” i scoff, chris claps.
he grabs all the cookie dough in his two hands and plops it on a baking tray, before punching it several times to flatten it.
“okay- so just put it in for 10 minutes.” i say, chris nods, humming to himself as he pushes the baking tray into the oven.
he shuts the oven door and walks back over to me,
“feeling better?” chris asks, placing a hand on my knee as i sit on the counter.
i nod, “i really am, thank you chris.”
he smiles, “i’m glad, i hate seeing you so upset.”
i wrap my arms around him again, giving him a hug.
-
a couple minutes have passed, chris goes to check on the cookie.
he opens the oven and his jaw drops, a small laugh escaping his mouth.
“bro- it’s like spread across the whole thing.”
chris says, pulling it out of the oven and showing me.
i giggle, “maybe cause we used oil and didn’t measure a single thing”
he pulls a bit off of it and plops it into my mouth.
i grimace, “it tastes funny.”
he tries a bit aswell, “what!! it’s good!”
“it’s gross!!”
“okay, i’ll keep it to myself then.” chris says with a sassy tone
“um.. do you think you could maybe stay over tonight- i mean you don’t have to but i don’t know.” i ramble,
chris smiles, “you wanna have a sleepover with me!!” he claps
i scoff, “yeah.”
he helps me off the countertop onto my feet, grabbing my hand and leading me back to my bedroom.
he sorts through my closet and pulls out a pyjama pair, throwing them at me.
i shake my head with a frown, my eyes watering again.
he pauses,
i start to cry again for the 100th time today,
“that was noah’s pair he bought me.” i sniff,
chris wipes his face, “i’m so sorry.” he groans,
he picks me up, i bury my face into his shoulder.
“no more tears please.” he sighs, wiping my eyes.
i nod, “i’m just sensitive.”
“i know you are, let’s get you into your favourite pyjamas then, how’s that sound?” chris speaks softly.
i nod, chris carry’s me over to my closet and opens my pyjama drawer, letting me pick one.
i pull out a pink pair, my hand shaking.
chris walks me over to the bed and sits me down on the edge,
he crouches down beside me, pulling my jeans off down my legs.
he grabs my pyjama shorts and tugs them up me, a concentrated look on his face.
he tugs off my shirt gently, his cold fingertips grazing over my skin.
he pulls on the baby tee, “how’s that?” he asks,
i sniff, “thank you..”
he turns off the main light and crawls into bed beside me.
he tugs up the sheets over us, pulling me closer to him.
i rest my head on his arm,
chris suddenly lets out a snort, covering his mouth with his hand.
“what’s funny?” i ask with a confused smile,
“just having flashbacks to you with that damn flour all over your face.”
-
@downbad4reid
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@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72
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fizzysound · 2 years
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related to my previous reblog but :/
#seen an old friend today who I haven't seen in years#she acted like it was really great to see me because it's been too long since we seen each other last etc etc#and it was really nice seeing her. we used to be pretty good friends#but then I was sitting on the bus afterwards and idk what to call the emotion but I had to try so hard not to cry#and I've never really felt this way about her before. just about friends in general in a kinda vague way that I didn't examine too closely#but. she was one of my closest friends up until she (along with others) slowly abandoned me#just before one of the worst times I've ever experienced in my life. and I had to go through it all completely isolated from all my friends#I've never blamed her before but something about how she was so genuinely happy to see me today. it just hurt#we haven't seen each other in years because You started excluding me from things. stopped inviting me along to things#and now you show me years later that you don't even realise this??#*realise how much she unknowingly hurt me I mean#that's possibly the part that's making this hurt so much rn actually#now that I'm writing it out#also probably because I never let myself think about it too much before#idk. just having that experience today and then seeing that post as well.. I don't like it#saying I tried hard not to cry makes it sound like I was successful. I wasn't#I had to disguise drying my eyes by pretending to blow my nose#I'm not gonna cry on the *bus*#I'll probably delete this later. kinda just needed to write it out
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tim-shii · 5 months
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a/n: my beau, the love of my life 🫂 little smth before i go to war (finals is in two days) ,, AAAAAA i love aven so much hes so precious hes so dear to me MY BELOVED !! hes canonically a messy sleeper 😋 hes so silly bf oml
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aventurine looks so ethereal right now. well, he’s always been beautiful. but in this light? with how the beams from the sun highlights his features, aventurine looks gorgeous.
he’s sleeping soundly, too. pajama shirt nearly unbuttoned because of how much he twist and turn in his sleep. blonde locks messily sprawled over the pillow and his forehead. he’s so endearing. it takes everything in you just to not wake him with a shower of aggressive kisses all over his pretty face.
usually, you’ll let him sleep in. however, today’s itinerary is quite full and busy so a few more minutes of sleep will indeed hurt.
“wake up, sleeping beauty.” you sit on the edge of the bed hovering over him, your pointer finger repeatedly poking his cheek. when he doesn’t move an inch, you gently blow air in his ear. grinning widely once he shudders. slowly after that, aventurine flutters open his eyes. squinting at the morning light, blindly patting around for your hand.
“g’morning.” he murmurs, arms snaking around your waist, pulling you close. aventurine nuzzles in your neck, his lips leaving short kisses on your skin. an attempt to coax you back to bed.
“good morni— no, no. you need to get up.” you hold his face and pull him away from your personal bubble. his cheeks are squished against your palms, you have the urge to sink your teeth into them. “it’s robin’s concert today and we promised to come over for her album release lunch party.”
“you promised her.”
“and you are my official plus one to everything.” you bite one of his cheeks and aventurine lets you. he loves you too much to deny you of anything. he also really loves affection from you so this situation is more beneficial for him than for you.
“so i’m just a pretty thing for you to flaunt around?” he turns his head in your hold in order to land a kiss on your inner wrist, his gaze affectionate and soft as they bore into you.
“my pretty lover whose presence i always want around? yes, you are.” finally, you lean down to kiss him. aventurine sighs at the feeling of your lips on his. he can taste the coffee you must’ve had before you went to wake him up.
“okay, enough.” you pull away. instantly, he frowns like a child whose candy got stolen. he tries to chase after you but a hard bite on his nose is enough to make him back down (he sends you a glare though). “get up. we still have to pick up veritas on the way.”
“he’s a grown man. he can drive himself there.”
“apparently, he was grading papers until 4am. he is in no condition to drive, baby.” you walk away from him after a last kiss on his lips. aventurine groans, annoyed that his sleep got interrupted and he felt like your kisses weren’t enough. he needs more than five kisses to fully function in a day. he pats around the bed for his phone, arm lazily hitting the pillows scattered around the bed.
as he clicks on the power button, his jaw drops in disbelief. you.. how could you….
“it’s five in the morning! why— it’s still too early!”
“you kicked me off the bed! it’s payback!”
“you’re such a menace, oh my god.”
“love you, baby! come down! breakfast is waiting.”
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
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chaoticbardlady99 · 9 months
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Pinkie Promise? (Astarion x F! reader) MDNI 18+
Author note- this is specifically for @spitfireunhinged who wrote a beautiful little post with a concept that I adored. I hope I did it justice and you enjoy!
CW- NSFW, mentions of SA
Synopsis- You tell Astarion that you don’t think sex is as good as people say it is. Astarion is determined to prove you wrong.
*not my pic. Please let me know if it is yours so I can give credit
I rewrote this like 7 times. This draft is lightly edited, but I couldn’t wait to post it!
Part 2: I Triple Dog Dare You
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Astarion had heard the phrase “pinky promise” before. It was usually between Leon and Victoria before Leon left for a hunt. She always made Leon pinkie promise that he would come home and Leon always swore it- his pinkie hooked with hers.
The whole thing made Astarion vomit, but he thought it was just a “them” thing since he had never heard it before.
Then you used it on him and he had hurt your feelings terribly. He had called you a child and then proceeded to mock you.
You had just smiled at him sweetly like you usually do, apologized for invading his space, and for crossing his boundaries.
When Astarion had come by an hour or two later to drop off a book he ‘borrowed’ (it was his book, but he wanted an excuse to talk to you again), he heard you sniffling and asking Karlach if you were a child. You were so upset by his judgment because you like him as a person and thought the two of you were friends. Karlach said that some people just aren’t capable of being nice.
Astarion found you after Karlach went to sleep and pinkie promised to never call you a child again (and that he doesn’t think you are a child).
Suddenly, it was your thing and it slowly became more enduring as time went on. A part of him was envious if Karlach or Gale offered you the gesture first and you would give them one of your breathtaking smiles. He wishes he could initiate it, but it feels far too intimate to him. Asking someone to promise him something? Perish the thought! No one can truly be trusted. Well- maybe you can be trusted.
Astarion doesn’t know when he became so infatuated with you and your existence. Maybe it was that first night at camp when the two of you got to know each other a little bit better. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were struggling to adjust to the new environment. You asked him lots of questions that he honestly had struggled to answer, but you were actually interested in him- not just his body.
Astarion was beginning to crave your presence and he despised sharing it with anyone else. One time he even went as far as making you pinkie promise you wouldn’t kiss Gale when he had called you over. You had scoffed and said that is ridiculous because “Gale would not kiss you ever, yuck!” , but did it anyway.
Low and behold- Gale did not get his kiss. He’s tried since, but you have rejected his advances. Astarion likes to think it’s because you like him more- want him more.
So maybe that’s why he was quick to drag you away from the Tiefling party after you had made your rounds- not wanting to watch you be with another person a second longer. You let him take your hand and you giggle as he chastises you for taking so long to talk to everyone else.
“How dare my self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ spend so much time not in my presence!” Astarion melodramatically states, “I am hurt, Darling. I thought we had something special.”
You blow air out of your mouth with an eye roll and smile at him.
“Well of course we do,” you say matter of factly, “but I also knew the minute I went to talk to you that I wouldn’t talk to anyone else.
“I’m the fearless leader!” You say with emphasis, “Leader of the Freakshow- welcome one and all to the most traumatized individuals alive!”
Astarion’s chest bursts with laughter, “how very on the nose of you, my Dear.”
“I must keep all of us humble, my Sweet,” you say boldly.
He tsks at you and twirls you around, “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to steal my lines- that is going to cost you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Certainly.”
“Name your price.”
Astarion pauses- right now doesn’t feel like the moment to go full throttle. He has more work to do.
“I need time to think,” he says lewdly, “there are so many things I could ask for, after all.”
You hum in agreement and smile at him coyly.
Maybe it’s because you are the first person he has actively sought out since he has been released from Cazador’s grasp.
Astarion guides you to a spot in the meadow he had found earlier. Well- actually he had followed Gale to it earlier- Astarion just found an even better spot like 10 yards away.
Gale had stupidly announced to Wyll around the campfire that he was going to ask to spend time with you alone tonight.
There was immediately not a chance in hells that that was going to happen. Gale found a nice spot in the forest- Astarion found a better one. Gale brought a blanket and wine? Pfft, Astarion can do that.
You stop in front of the blanket and wine before you look at him- a nice blush running up your neck.
“Is this for-?” You seem surprised.
Which Astarion finds very interesting considering you are from Noble society- shouldn’t you be used to being courted? Astarion is almost certain you’d have at least a hundred suitors.
“For you?” He smiles charmingly, “well of course, only the best for you, my Dear.”
You duck your head and you blush even harder. Astarion guides you to sit with him. You both drink the wine and talk. You ask him questions about himself and he asks plenty about you.
Astarion isn’t sure when the conversation turns into talking about sex- that had always been the original intention of the conversation.
“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”
“Pardon?”
You shrug your shoulders and slightly slur the sentence again with emphasis.
“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”
Astarion is shocked to his core. You flirt back and forth with him as if you’ve bedded at least a couple men.
“You’ve never?”
“No.”
“How?”
You look at him with a puzzled expression. You are staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.
Hypocrite. You’re the one spewing none sense!
“How?” You state incredulously, “you have looked at me right?”
Oh yes and I’ve imagined fucking you until you are screaming my name, but that’s beside the point I suppose.
“I’m nothing much to look at. I’m always the friend- never the girlfriend or the lover or whatever!” You emphasize with your hands, “no one has ever felt that way about me and if they have- they’ve never gone for it so I assume it’s just not that much fun.”
Astarion feels like he’s dying all over again. That was your assumption? Not that you might be horrifically oblivious because he’s only tried to to get in your pants several times. One time he quite literally asked you to come to his bed that night and you showed up with a book.
“Darling,” Astarion’s exasperation obvious, “I’ve been trying to have sex with you for a couple weeks now. Probably even more than that at this point.”
You stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
“You,” you stammer, “you want to? With me? No way.”
You laugh nervously, “you are beautiful and intelligent and-“
“No, no way.”
Astarion raises an eyebrow at you and smiles seductively. Your lips part slightly as he pushes you on your back and parts your legs with his knee.
Your arms automatically wrap around his neck- your pupils blown wide with lust. Astarion kisses to the left and right of your lips- grinning when he hears your huff in frustration.
“You sure do keen a lot for someone who doesn’t think sex could possibly be ‘that good’, Darling,” Astarion coos, you tighten your lips in embarrassment.
Astarion rolls his eyes at you and cups your face while putting his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You hum with pleasure and peer at him through hooded eye lids. Astarion feels his cock strain against his pants
“So, my Dear,” Astarion drawls, “do you want me to fuck you? Would you like to see all the bliss you are missing out on?”
You nod eagerly and Astarion presses his thigh against your growing heat. You whine around his thumb and you run your tongue against his skin.
Fuck.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks hotly.
You nod- Astarion can smell your arousal and feel it seeping through both of your pants.
“Pinkie promise?” He says teasingly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to hold out his pinkie.
You hook your pinkie with his and whisper, “pinkie promise.”
Astarion pulls you in for a mind numbing kiss- caressing your lips with his until you are keeping up with his pace. He feels your arms around his neck pull him in deeper.
Your kiss against his lips is sweet and intoxicating- for a second he completely forgets about the purpose of the evening. Astarion could sit here and just kiss you like this until the sun comes up.
Your breathing hitches and Astarion watches as you desperately try to find release by riding his thigh- your movements erratic and wanting. The sounds you are making fill him with excitement and for the first time in a while- he’s actually eager to be inside someone.
He realizes your moaning has become muffled all of a sudden and he looks up to find you covering your mouth- your cheeks and ears are bright red while you pant with arousal.
Astarion laces his fingers through yours and holds your hands down on either side of your head- your pupils are blown wide from lust. The galloping of your heart is like music to his ears.
“Oh no,” he whispers seductively, “do not keep those delicious moans of yours from me, Darling. You promised to be good, remember?”
“Y-yes,” you say between heavy breaths- this time you are the one to surprise him by closing the space between the two of you with a needy kiss.
Astarion unlaces his fingers from yours as he begins unlacing your trousers- quickly discarding them to reveal your soaked underclothes. He growls involuntarily as the smell of your arousal hits the back of his throat- you smell incredible.
Astarion could leave it at just taking your pants off for now, but Gods does he want to see more and if you are willing to let him, then he is not going to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch and kiss every inch of your body.
Your shirt is next and you don’t even fight it- helping him get the article of clothing off and helping him discard his shirt as well. Astarion stops and looks down upon your naked form.
“Gods you are exquisite,” Astarion says as he begins to kiss down your naval, “open your legs for me, Darling.”
He leaves tiny love bites as he goes- wanting to make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to. You are a whimpering mess underneath his touch as he presses his fingers to your clothed clit- teasing you slowly.
“Asta-“
You are cut off by your own sounds of pleasure leaving your throat as he slips your underwear off- slowly pushing one finger into you while playing with your clit using his tongue. A string of curse words leaves your mouth as he begins to pick up the pace with his fingers and basks in the way pleasure looks on your face, how your body is writhing for him, and the tumbling praises for him echo through the clearing.
He rolls your sensitive nub between his teeth and he has to hold your hips down as you keen underneath his touch. Astarion adds a second finger- still meeting some resistance, but you aren’t stopping him, in fact- you are giving him complete access using your tadpole right now (intentionally or not) and he can feel how desperate you are to feel fuller. Then he adds the second fingers and the euphoria that rings through your body goes straight to his groan. Astarion can feel his cock straining against his pants as he brings you over the edge with his fingers and mouth- your sweet pleasure dripping down his chin and his fingers. He languidly cleans his fingers off with his mouth, humming in delight while making eye contact with you.
Your eyes are half lidded and glassy- your mouth is slightly parted open. He leans forward and leaves a chaste kiss on them and begins unlacing his own pants- slipping them off and throwing them to the side- his underwear quickly following.
Astarion lines himself up with your entrance- your orgasm coating the head of his cock and he has to fight the urge to slam into you right away. He lines himself up with your entrance- teasing you. You look more nervous now than lustful and Astarion feels his gaze soften. He hovers over you and caresses the side of your face with his thumb. The last thing he wants is to start with you in the wrong headspace.
"Wrap your legs around my waist."
You obediently comply- your back slightly arching and your pert nipples are touching his chest. You sigh in arousal at the contact.
“This may hurt a little,” he says, “we can stop whenever or however much you need- we can stop completely and try again another time even.
“But do you want me to continue?”
You smile up at him with relief and nod coyly.
“I trust you, but please go slow,” you whisper.
Astarion feels a tightness in his chest when you look up at him. Your eyes are so vulnerable and of all the people you’ve decided to trust you chose him. Astarion is fighting not to dissociate- wanting to give you his full attention.
Astarion slowly begins to push inside you. You cry out and clutch at his shoulders- taking a sharp breath as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. Astarion has to fight the want- no need to go faster- you are so damn tight and Astarion is almost wondering if he should have done more foreplay.
He rocks in and out of you- making sure to check on your facial expressions. There are tears pricking your eyes, but your look of discomfort is becoming more and more euphoric as he keeps rolling his hips into you gently.
“Hells darling,” Astarion manages to moan out through clenched teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”
You whimper at his praise and Astarion lifts you up by the hips so he can get a better angle. He thrusts a minuscule harder this time and the whimper that leaves your mouth is making him feel positively feral.
“Astarion,” you whine, “ple- please I need more.”
You definitely don’t have to tell him twice. Astarion snaps himself up into you at a faster pass- your keening only encouraging him to go faster- both of you moaning and gasping while clawing at each other. For the first time in the last 200 years- Astarion does not want to stop. Despite the feelings that are always there, this may be the only time he’s actually experienced bliss while being with someone.
"Such a good little pup, aren't you?"
You clench around him at his words, you beg him to fuck you harder, and he drops your hips back to the ground before putting his face into the crook of your neck- kissing and praising you as you ride out your high.
“You were such a good girl for me,” he breathes into your air, “thank you.”
Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging his lips to yours. If he needed air, the kiss would have suffocated him from how intense and wanting it was- the air between the both of you feels alive and Astarion barely registers that he’s finishing inside you until he’s collapsed on top of you- his head resting on your chest as it races in time with your breathing.
“That was amazing,” you say breathlessly and Astarion can’t help but laugh.
“I told you so.”
You plafully slap his arm and laugh- the sound filling his body with comfort. He can hear your heart beat begin to slow down and your breathing becomes deeper.
“Thank you Astarion,” you say sleepily, dozing off with your hands teasing his curls, “not just for this- for everything. I feel worth something when I’m with you.”
You yawn and Astarion tries to focus on the sound instead of the twisting guilt in his stomach. He cares for you too and that might be where he fucked up.
Your breathing quickly evens out and he is drowning in the smell of sex and rose water- a scent he heavily associates with you. Astarion stays there with his head on top of your chest- trying to get his bearings together. That was like no other sexual encounter he has experienced before- it was blissful- so why the hell is he about to have the melt down of the century?
“Shit,” you jolt awake, accidentally pushing Astarion off you- your eyes are still glassy “sorry I should probably not just fall asleep here- I’m sure you want to get back to your tent…”
Astarion pulls you back down and against his chest as if it’s exactly where you belong. The idea of you leaving right now makes his soul twist painfully. No, he needs you to stay. Existing is easier with you around- it has been since he met you on the beach.
“Stay,” he whispers, “please.”
There is a pause and he worries he may have overstepped his bounds. You look up at him with sleepy, kind eyes. If peace were to have a face- it would be yours.
“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” You smile at him sweetly.
The word leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, “pinkie promise?”
You give him the biggest, toothiest grin he has ever seen. Astarion is certain you may be the single most beautiful person he’s ever met.
You take his pinky in yours and then place a soft kiss against his cold lips.
As you pull away, you whisper against his mouth, “I pinky promise.”
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
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James Potter x half-blood fem!reader
Summary: You comfort your darling boyfriend after an overwhelming sight at your muggle grandparents' house.
Genre: hurt and comfort, fluffy, blurb
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of hunting, taxidermy animal head, crying, Jamie is sensitive <3
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
You were beyond pissed at your parents.
You had told your mom, hoping she'd understand considering she was also raised in a sheltered pure-blood family, that James was sensitive and that he didn't have many experiences with muggles or muggle culture.
It hadn't crossed your mind to mention that your boyfriend was an animagus, or that he could turn into a stag, because why would you? You hadn't seen your muggle grandparents in a while, and you would have never imagined the new decor in their living room to be a taxidermy stag head in their living room!
Your grandparents don't even hunt!
"What's up his ass?" your oldest cousin asks smugly. He's standing next to you as he blows smoke from the corner of his mouth and he holds up his cigarette to his lips.
Your family had watched with pure confusion as your poor boyfriend sprinted outside, his complexion pale and his eyes watery. 
You cover your mouth, coughing from the smoke as you swat the air and your cheeks burn from embarrassment and anger. 
Without answering your cousin, you run to the entrance and shrug on your coat, grabbing James's as well. It's early October and it's chilly outside, you don't want James to catch a cold.
You slip on your boots and leap into the backyard, calling out for your boyfriend. "James!? Where are you?" you sound distraught as you look around for him frantically. 
You sprint into the woods behind the house, wondering if perhaps he'd disappeared there. When you see a shadow sitting in the grass not far into the trees, your heart breaks. 
"Oh, Jamie," you whisper and walk up to him. 
You kneel and drape his coat over his shoulders. Carefully, you sit next to him, holding him. "I'm so sorry. If I had known then I would have never—" you start, soothing a hand up and down his arms but your sentence quickly dies when James leans his head into your lap and you see tears roll down his reddened cheeks. 
"His eyes were so lifeless," he mutters, his voice broken. 
"I know, baby. I'm so sorry," you try and soothe, chewing on your lip. James moves his arms around you and sniffs a little. He sounds so weirdly vulnerable in your arms and it's so different from the James you usually see. 
Always so sure of himself. Always so brave. 
This reminds you of the few times you'd seen your boyfriend cry, but somehow this was still different. This time his tears made your chest hurt because you are partially to blame.
"I knew muggles have those in their houses sometimes. I mean, wizards and witches do too I think—I just didn't think I would see one," James continues and squeezes his eyes shut, "It just looked so dead." 
You smooth a hand in James's curls and press a kiss to his forehead. "I'm so sorry," you say, "I told them not to ruin this for me. I told them and they didn't listen. They don't even hunt, James. I don't know why they had that—"
James sniffs, sitting up, and wipes his hand under his nose. "It's okay, I'm being a baby. It isn't your fault and I don't think any less of your family."
You shake your head and cup his cheeks. "No, no, you're not a baby. You're a sweet, sensitive boy, and that's one of the reasons I love you so so much."
James chuckles and pushes some hair behind your ear, "So, you don't only love me for all my manly rugged charm?" he jokes, leaning his forehead on yours. 
You laugh. "Not only, no," you tease and look into his eyes. 
"Can I kiss you?" you ask. 
James's smile finally widens and he nods, letting you kiss his lips. It's sweet and calming and the only sounds around you are your lips on his and the birds in the trees. 
He pulls away and licks his lips, tasting the remnants of your cherry lip gloss. "Can we stay here for a moment longer before I do the inevitable walk of shame back to your house?" 
You caress his cheek. "We can stay here as long as you'd like. I don't wanna go back in there and face them all either."
And so, you and James stay outside until the sky turns pink and dim and you hear your parents concerned shouts of your name in the distance.
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igbylicious · 3 months
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marked [jwy x reader]
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pairing: Wooyoung x gn afab reader (briefly feat. Yunho & background poly ot8)
rating: 18+
genre: smut, fluff, werewolf AU, found family
summary: Wooyoung is the newest member of your pack, and under tonight’s full moon you will claim him as your mate. (OR: Wooyoung knots for the very first time and you fuck him through it 👀)
wc: 8.1k
warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom alpha reader, reader is physically stronger than Wooyoung, predator / prey play, knotting, breeding kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex, creampies, stomach bulge / cum inflation, biting & marking (w/ light blood mention), cunnilingus, face-sitting, cum eating, reader has a mild possessive streak, implied m x m, Wooyoung is called ‘good boy’ & ‘pup’, a sprinkling of hurt / comfort
a/n: @wooyoungisbaby asked me if i would turn Wooyoung into a werewolf & then i blacked out and suddenly there were 8k of words on my screen ฅV•̀ᴥ•́Vฅ
a/n²: idk how to put this in the warnings but werewolves have an estrous reproductive cycle in this fic, and there is an off-hand mention that the reader is not currently fertile. just to balance out my own ‘love breeding kink, squicked by pregnancy’ conundrum ^^
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Sunlight trickles through the cherry trees overhead, a light canopy of pastel pinks looking down on you and Wooyoung. The gentle sunlight warms you with the glow of spring, a blossom swirling down the breeze to land right on Wooyoung’s nose.
He barely even notices, too busy fussing in your embrace. You’re curled up against his back, and your arms have him pulled into your chest, legs tangled together. There is a blooming tapestry of red marks on his neck; gentle indents of your teeth, slow bruises sucked into his delicate skin.
You blow the cherry blossom off his nose with a giggle, and the pink petal flutters down into the grass, luscious green brimming with white and yellow daisies. The flowers give off a pleasantly sweet waft but you are not interested in floral aromas, only in the alluring scent radiating from Wooyoung’s heated body.
You burrow your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep as Wooyoung whines in your hold.
“Easy, pup,” you coo at him, and lightly pinch his waist in warning. “Don’t want to wear yourself out before tonight, do you?”
“I won’t, I won’t,” he says, wiggling in your arms. He hisses when your teeth sink into the tender skin of his neck again, the noise morphing into a breathy, pitched moan as you lap at the bite. “Just wanna play…”
You giggle at his protests; Wooyoung is easily the most rambunctious pup you have ever dealt with.
Sometimes you find it most effective to fuck the misbehaviour out of him, to burn off all his frenzied energy as you ride him — or to make him wear himself out on your cunt, your fingers tightly wrapped in his hair as you hold him down, his mouth eager to please.
But sometimes, that feels like just a bit too much of a reward for his mischievous ways.
For those moments, you prefer your current strategy; to force Wooyoung into a cuddle, spooning him as you playfully gnaw on his neck and shoulder. If you hold him down long enough, his endless squirming will tire him out just the same as any other method. Wooyoung might be energetic — but he is a young pup, turned only four weeks ago, whereas you are a born wolf, and he cannot stand up against your superior strength.
It’s hard to believe he has been in your life for barely a year; Wooyoung was all alone in the world when you stumbled on him during a hunt; a lonely, pitiful creature with no-one else to turn to. Your wolf had demanded for you to grant him protection and you listened, never led astray by your canine instincts. You brought him into the pack, where your mates welcomed him with open arms.
At first, it was just a visit; so he could catch his breath, rest up and decide what to do next. But when Wooyoung decided to extend his stay indefinitely, he soon decided he wanted to be turned as well.
(If there’s one thing you quickly learned about Wooyoung, it’s that he never does things halfway. It was you and your mates who talked him into waiting for a while, until he was absolutely sure, but Wooyoung never wavered.)
You were the one to do the honours, pinning him down under the light of the full moon, your seven mates surrounding you in a wide circle. Wooyoung had seen you in wolf form before; he’d even napped while curled up against your huge lycan body, engulfed in dark fur — but it was never like this, never with your jaws snapping right in his face, clawed paws heavy on his chest as your scorching breaths fell down on his vulnerable, tiny figure. You were careful not to crush him, of course, but he needed to keep still; no matter how willing he was, a human’s instinct runs deep when a predator’s maw closes around their weak flesh.
Wooyoung was not immune to those instincts, and your chest ached when he cried out in pain at your bite. His hands pushed uselessly against your head, but you are strong even for a wolf; and the limited capacities of his fragile human body stood no chance against you at the height of your power, basking in moonlight.
You had lapped at his wound afterwards, easing him through his shakes as your saliva mixed with his blood, broken skin mending under your raspy tongue into a darkened scar as the first seed of his transformation took hold.
For four weeks now, Wooyoung’s body has been changing under the surface. It comes with restless agitation, giving him more energy and stamina than he knows what to do with, yet the process is also exhausting; a slow adjustment to his heightened senses, stronger muscles, an increased sensitivity to the presence of others — your presence especially, as the one who turned him.
And tonight is an important stage in Wooyoung’s lycan life; the next full moon. His first complete transformation, catalysed by the moon’s bright luminescence.
The reshaping of his human body into a wolf is a symbolic milestone, but it will also unlock Wooyoung’s full potential, allowing him to grow into his full strength. With time, he will even learn to transform regardless of the night sky — though only few werewolves are powerful enough to deny a full moon.
(You are, but you see little reason to ever deny the celestial body that has given you so much.)
Now, lazing in the sun together, you lap at the scar you left on Wooyoung’s skin that night. All your other bites always heal rapidly but this one lingers, and always will. You are eager for tonight, when you get to add a second permanent mark to him. To imprint on him as your mate.
Your neck and shoulders are already littered with the seven bites of your other mates, binding their spirits to yours, but there is always room for one more; especially if that one more is your Wooyoung, your playful, mischievous pup whose sensitive heart bursts with love and easy affection.
Of course, you have laid with Wooyoung long before tonight — as have your other mates. You always needed to treat Wooyoung like glass, knowing how easily you could break him; but Wooyoung never made it easy to hold back.
Loneliness had carved a deep, dry well in his chest cavity; never realising the depths of his emptiness until you and your mates submerged him in a lake of care and devotion, replenishing his marred soul. Hungrily, Wooyoung had taken anything that you felt safe to give him, while he freely gave back all he had.
These past four weeks, you have tested his limits together, watched how they stretched further and further as Wooyoung slowly grows into his powers — and tonight, you won’t have to hold back any longer.
“Wanna play…” Wooyoung whines again, and you follow his gaze to San and Mingi, who are laughing and rough-housing by the edge of the nearby brook, just down a gentle slope of grassland.
You hesitate, not wanting to let go of Wooyoung. But… are you still holding onto him just to keep him well-behaved? Long years of sharing your mates have taught you to recognise a possessive streak when you feel one, and the resistance against releasing Wooyoung from your arms feels awfully familiar.
Maybe it’s nothing but greed; your urge to trap Wooyoung in your arms, to flood yourself in his scent, to keep his neck littered with your bites.
You had found Wooyoung, you had turned him, and a primal instinct calls out from deep within you, to always remind the others that you claimed him for his first full moon.
But from somewhere deep underneath the possessive wolf, you know very well that it would do Wooyoung good to stay bonded with your other mates — his future mates. They will respect your claim.
You tip Wooyoung’s chin, lightly pecking his lips. “Promise to save some energy for me, my sweet pup,” you smile at him, and loosen your grip.
Wooyoung perks up when you release him from your hold — but instead of immediately bolting off to San and Mingi, he turns around in your arms to dive in for a deep, heated kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip, repaying your bites with one of his own. You yelp in surprise at his sudden passion, and Wooyoung giggles at the undignified noise, his laugh bright and filled with adoration.
“I will,” he breathes between kisses. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” His lips brush against your neck and shoulders, against the seven marks that he will join tonight. “Wanna be with you. So badly.”
“But first you wanna play,” you tease him, and lightly push him away, before your possessive nature takes over and you can never let him go ever again. “Go. They’re waiting for you. Just like I will.”
Wooyoung presses one final kiss to your neck, then lets himself be pushed away and joins San and Mingi. You watch them with an odd mingle of jealousy and joy; joy to see Wooyoung’s happiness with your other mates, jealous to see them without you.
It is a familiar maze to navigate; you are no stranger to possessive urges, yet you also feel blessed beyond measure that your mates love each other as much as they love you. The two feelings are in conflict yet forever intertwined; they are less two sides of the same coin, and more the sides of the same mobius strip; inherently connected, endlessly feeding into one another.
However, you are broken out of your musings by a gentle breeze from behind you. It brings a familiar scent that effortlessly tears the mobius strip in half, halting its flow through your emotions.
You turn around to see Yunho standing underneath one of the cherry trees, a few blossoms sticking to his dark hair and a faint smile on his face as he observes how the good-natured wrestling between San, Mingi and Wooyoung has turned into a rowdy cuddle pile. Yunho notices you looking at him, and he gives you a slow nod, eyes twinkling. You reach out a hand, beckoning him closer, and his smile deepens.
Yunho’s long fingers wrap around yours, never letting go as he sits down next to you in the grass. Immediately you take advantage of his proximity, wiggling yourself between his legs to curl up against his warm chest.
Yunho chuckles at your need for touch, loosely putting his arms around your waist. It’s a stark contrast to how you held Wooyoung earlier; Yunho does not fear the loss of you, resting in the tempered confidence from years of devotion. His mark on your neck is the oldest, and your eyes flutter shut as you luxuriate in the comfort of his scent, like earthy woods and petrichor. You didn’t realise just how badly you missed the grounding familiarity of him until right this second, and you sigh out in bliss, leaning deeper into him.
For just a moment, you let go of your possessive jealousy over Wooyoung — but Yunho does not.
“Gotta admit, didn’t think I’d see you separated from Wooyoung’s side anytime this month. Especially not today,” he chuckles, rubbing a lazy hand over your waist.
A self-conscious warmth flushes under your skin. Yunho does always see you clearest. “I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”
“No more than last time,” he says, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest. “Or any time before. Remember Hongjoong? Yeosang? We practically had to drag you off of them to give those poor guys some peace and quiet.”
“I was taking care of them!” you huff, even if you know Yunho’s right.
“And you’re taking good care of Wooyoung now,” Yunho says, and he presses a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m not saying it’s bad — I’m so happy that we have Wooyoung now, really,” he murmurs, gathering you a little closer in his arms. “But… I did miss you these last weeks. Especially knowing there won’t be a hunt tonight…”
“Oh? You think you would’ve been the one to catch me?” you tease Yunho, poking his chest. “Confident, aren’t we!”
“Think I would’ve had a good shot,” Yunho says, grin widening.
A faint heat sparks inside you at his easy confidence, bringing back memories of how he earned that confidence over and over again. “I missed you too,” you admit, feeling apologetic. You had promised to lead your mates on a chase under the full moon again soon; but through your refusal to share Wooyoung with the others, you also stopped sharing yourself. “We will make up for time after Wooyoung has settled, I swear.”
“I know we will,” Yunho hums. “For now, keep taking care of our Wooyoung first. The pup needs you to get through tonight.”
You glance up at Wooyoung — but the first thing you see is San, who is face-down in the grass, yelping as Mingi and Wooyoung playfully got him pinned down; Wooyoung’s teeth are locked around San’s bicep while Mingi laughs, nipping at his mark on San’s neck.
“…Or maybe San is the one who needs you?” Yunho says, cocking his head at the chaos in front of him.
San laughs helplessly, resigned to his fate, until he realises they are being watched. He wheezes out a weak “help!” as he reaches out to you and Yunho, a desperate dimple poking at his cheek.
Yunho muffles a laugh with his hand, and gives you a sideways grin. “I’ll get Mingi, you handle Wooyoung?”
You grin back at Yunho. “Oh, I’ll handle him alright.”
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The day’s warmth has cooled in the hours of dusk, but there is nothing to cool the blood pulsing through your veins, running hot with canine hunger. The wolf inside you is utterly transfixed on Wooyoung; your senses are growing ever more keen as the moon bathes you in her light, and the scent of Wooyoung is almost overwhelming now. His sweetness permeates the air so thick that you can taste him on your tongue; his excitement, his impatience, his need to be taken and claimed by his alpha. By you.
Wooyoung turns his head, eyes glittering darkly as they meet yours, an agitated energy crackling around him.
This is all new to him, you remind yourself. He does not know what to do with all these untamed impulses that pound against his chest and growl in the back of his head. You will teach him, show him exactly how to control the wolf, and how to let it run free. You will show him everything.
And Wooyoung may be a predator now, but you shall devour him all the same.
You stand together at the forest’s edge, but your gaze lingers on Wooyoung’s exposed collarbones, already contemplating where to leave your mating bite. Right next to the mark of when you turned him? Or do you want to cover as many different parts of him as you can? Both options are tempting in their own ways.
For now, you simply cup the back of Wooyoung’s head and pull him close so you can kiss your first mark on him. “Remember the clearing we picked out?” you murmur, tongue darting out over the old scar tissue. “Let’s make a race of it. You get there before I do, I’ll have a nice surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” Wooyoung says, his eyes shining with eager curiosity. “You’re on.”
Without warning, he bolts deeper into the forest, giving himself a generous head’s start as he leaves you behind. Your most rambunctious pup, for sure.
You grin, pleased at the challenge he gives you.
Just to give him fairer odds, you wait a little longer. You breathe in deeply as you pull the lingering scent of Wooyoung into your lungs, and clench your muscles, feeling your lupine power in just a simple contraction. You can still hear him in the distance, twigs breaking underfoot, the rustling of the underbrush. He is getting farther now, embracing his newfound agility; perhaps even thinking he stands a chance. You lick your lips at the thought, knowing how misguided it would be… then you leap into motion, starting your pursuit.
The wolf revels in this opportunity to show off its full power, and you dart through the woods with nimble swiftness. A faint cloud-cover hangs in the sky above, but the moon still pierces through to provide ample light. You do not need it, not with your keen senses guiding you; but for Wooyoung the illumination will surely be helpful to try and beat you to the clearing.
You can smell Wooyoung’s excitement in the air; you can hear him pant for breath as he pushes his body to new limits, fevered blood rushing through him with every pump of his heart, and his eagerness to outrun you feeds right into your own thrill of the chase.
Because for you, it’s not about whether Wooyoung beats you to the clearing.
For you, it’s about the hunt.
You are not as skilled a tracker as your other mates, but you don’t need to be. You know exactly where Wooyoung is going, and he is not subtle in making his way.
It does not take you long to catch up with Wooyoung, spurred on by your need to pounce on him, to finally claim what is rightfully yours. Wooyoung does not notice your presence immediately; he may be empowered by the moon same as you, but he is not as practised at making use of his gifts.
But when he does catch sight of you, your sudden proximity goads Wooyoung’s competitive spirit to new heights, completely unaware of the fact that he is not a competitor; he is prey. You revel in his innocent, breathless laugh, the lively spark in his eyes — eyes that widen when you lunge, right at him.
There is no real force behind your tackle, just playfully grabbing onto him to fall into a tumble together — then immediately release him. Wooyoung scrambles back on his feet, staring at you with wide eyes, his heart slamming against his rib-cage. His hair is in disarray, leafs and twigs stuck in the longish strands, a light scratch across his cheek.
“What was that?” he blurts out; miffed, but not entirely displeased. His scent easily gives that away.
“Better keep running, young pup,” you warn him, a light growl edging into your voice, lips curving to expose sharpened teeth.
Something about your grin causes a skip in Wooyoung’s pulse as he finally realises the true nature of your game. His human instincts have not yet faded entirely, a small bump of fear in his throat — but it is mere background noise in the heady waft of arousal that you catch in the air. Wooyoung is excited.
However, he is also not ready to submit to you, his rebellious spirit still burning strong. “Then you better keep up, old-timer,” he says, grinning right back at you.
He gives you no chance to respond to his taunt, dashing off through the woods again. Already Wooyoung is getting faster than before, and for a moment you indulge him again, letting him believe he is pulling ahead. The clearing is nearby; you can see it in the distance, cloud-cover pulling away to bathe the area in radiant moonlight, setting the forest aglow.
Wooyoung laughs in triumph at the sight; it is cute how confident he is of victory… but not cute enough to let him have it.
Again, you tackle him to the ground — and this time, you do not give Wooyoung an easy escape. He yipes, struggling on pure impulse as you wrestle him down, rolling over the rough forest until you pin down his arms and come to a stop, right on a soft patch of moss.
He whines and instinctively tries to throw you off him, but your grip on him is too tight. He stills when you drape yourself over him, breath scorching against his neck. The vein beneath your lips throbs.
“Surprise,” you whisper, and latch onto his throat.
Wooyoung cries out, back arching as he scrambles to grab onto your shoulders, hips jerking upward. He is hard against your thigh.
You draw a shuddering breath at how he squirms against your hold, exuding dizzying arousal from his pores. Already Wooyoung’s nails begin to elongate into claws, digging through your clothes to scrape at your shoulders. You giggle at his lack of control, allowing your teeth to sharpen as you nip at his jugular.
“Not so fast, my sweetling,” you say, trailing your mouth up to his jaw. “No need to rush. Let’s have some fun first.”
He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he trembles, the beast within encroaching on his lucidity. “D-don’t know if I can—”
“You can,” you growl lowly, yanking his arms down to force them against the ground. “You will listen to your alpha, pup, and it’s not your time yet.”
Wooyoung whimpers in submission, tilting his head back as the wolf retreats with its tail tucked between its legs. You lap at the exposed skin of his neck to soothe the harshness of your reprimand, but it needed to be done.
Wooyoung is such an energetic pup; better he burns some of that energy now, to make his transformation easier to control. It’ll be hard enough on him as it is, and you will do anything within your power to smoothen the process.
Just lucky for you that the best way to help Wooyoung, is exactly what your own wolf calls out for; demanding for you to ravish Wooyoung until not an inch of his skin has gone untouched, to mark him as your own. To have him sink deep inside your waiting cunt, and take everything he has to give.
You press your mouth against his in a starved kiss, tongue delving past his willing lips as you pull and tear at his clothes, encouraging him to do the same with yours. Your fingers glide over Wooyoung’s chest, his stomach, his thighs, every part of him you can reach; never stopping the slow roll of your hips into his, hot mouth swallowing every moan wrested from Wooyoung’s throat by your aggressive worship.
His muffled keening makes your blood sing, but it is not enough, not nearly enough to sate you. You tear your lips away from his and Wooyoung whines at the loss, his moans free and loud and delectable.
Your wolf growls sweetly, pleased at Wooyoung’s shameless need for you, and for a moment you simply revel in his existence, his pretty noises, the pitiful way he writhes underneath you. You admire how his tanned skin glows under the moonlight, stars dancing in the reflection of his wide, dark eyes as he stares up at you in desperate reverence.
“Hmgh, w-want— want—” he babbles, a shimmer of unshed tears joining the vibrant constellation in his eyes.
You can’t help but marvel at how fortunate you are, to have found another beautiful mate to add to your devoted family. Your fingers play over his sharp jawline, his striking features merging together into such a pretty face. The face of someone who is so generous with his love and his mischief; using both to take care of his loved ones in all the ways they need — but first needing to be tamed himself.
“Hm? What do you want, Wooyoungie?” you purr at him, pushing away the tattered remains of clothes. His cock is hot and aching against your folds, but you don’t take him inside just yet. “Behave, and I might just give it to you.”
Wooyoung makes a tearful noise, grabbing at your waist and ass with sharpened claws. “Want you,” he whines, and you hiss at how his nails scrape at your skin. He tries not to scratch at you, but Wooyoung does not know his own body right now, struggling to comprehend both his limits and full capabilities. “Please, please, need you, it— it’s too much, I can’t—”
A thin sheen of sweat sets his skin further aglow, and his addled pleas slip deep between your ribs, appealing to the softer side of your wolf — with success. Because you are not only a predator; as an alpha, you are a caretaker as well.
And, looking at your sweet pup, whose lucidity is rapidly slipping through his clawed hands, who is frenzied and disoriented from what’s happening to him; perhaps ‘behave’ is too cruel a demand to make of him right now.
Gently you peel his hands off of you, and lift them to your lips to nip at his knuckles. “Breathe, my good boy, deep breaths,” you soothe him, rolling your hips a little firmer against his cock, giving him much-needed friction. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”
Wooyoung tries to follow instructions, drawing hitched breaths — but he chokes on a wretched groan when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and guide him as you sink down with a blissful sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your body is pliant for him, enveloping him in wet heat, and Wooyoung gasps with sharp, staccato moans as his hips jerk, body trembling. He claws at the moss underneath, leaving deeply etched trails in the dirt.
There is a subtle elongation in his joints, the faint crackling of bones and muscle shifting underneath skin as his veins grow more prominent. You bare your teeth, snarling lowly at his wolf to back off, but you know it won’t allow itself to be repressed for much longer. It’s almost time.
You rest your hands on Wooyoung’s chest to give yourself leverage, and start to move.
Wooyoung’s whines grow more animalistic by the second as you ride him hard and fast. He bucks up to meet your every thrust, pouring all his aggression into the slam of his hips. Your cunt twitches around his cock as he hits deep inside, a pleased growl rumbling inside your chest.
The forest is quiet around you, nothing but a soft rush of wind and rustling leafs; its inhabitants know better than to come near two wolves in their moon’s heat. Nothing except the sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin, of raspy moans and pleased snarls.
The heady smell of sweat and arousal mingles with the freshness of the woods, gentle moss and sweet blossoms. Slick leaks down your thighs and onto Wooyoung’s pelvis, and your own instincts become harder and harder to ignore with Wooyoung laying right there underneath you, flushed and splayed out over the forest ground with the vulnerable column of his neck beckoning for your attention. It’s too early for that, but still you drape yourself over him, slating your mouth over his in something that can’t decide whether it’s a bite or a kiss.
Wooyoung groans against your lips, so tightly wired he might snap at any moment. He is beyond desperate for a quick release of tension and you do your best to provide, relentless as you hump into his lap. His cock drags against your clit with every swerve of your hips, your thoughts becoming hazier with every spike of heat Wooyoung sends through you.
Unable to help yourself, your lips trail to his shoulder; the one unmarred by your other bite from turning him. You lap at the skin, exploratory grazes of your teeth as you kiss and suckle at Wooyoung until this side of his neck is completely reddened with bruises and faint teethmarks.
Wooyoung whimpers and snarls, his clawed hands back on your waist as he convulses underneath, the mounting pleasure just as overwhelming as his primal instincts. His skin is feverish, same as yours, sweat-slicked bodies coiled around one another, muscles rippling under the moonlight with brutal stamina.
Suddenly Wooyoung’s noises rise in pitch, and you can feel it before he can even slur the words out, tongue lolling in his mouth.
“F-fuck, it’s— It’s happening— I’m— I— mngh, ahh—”
He swells inside you and Wooyoung stutters out a broken cry when, for the first time in his life, his knot grows.
His jaw falls slack, voice stuck in his throat and tears brimming on his lashes. You tighten around him, hips forced to a halt by the swollen tissue at the base of Wooyoung’s cock, keeping him locked inside you as he shudders and floods your throbbing walls with white heat.
It’s enough to send you over the edge with him, his knot stretching you out and pressing just right against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your vision whites out with a roar of static as your wolf slips out just a little further, and you sink your sharp teeth into soft flesh, breaking skin as you finally claim what is rightfully yours.
Wooyoung spasms underneath you, his arms trembling as he scrambles to hold onto you, every contraction of your walls draining him further.
Mindlessly, you mouth at the bleeding wound, uncaring of the metallic taste on your tongue as you encourage the skin to knit together into a scarred mark that will never fade. Your head is empty; all you know is to lap at Wooyoung’s tender neck, to grind into him with your limited movement, every instinct crying out to chase down your pleasure, demanding for Wooyoung to surrender all he has to you.
The predatorial haze takes over, and you don’t snap out of it until you taste a faint whiff of distress in Wooyoung’s whimpers.
“Ngh, ‘s too much— Ah, ahhhh, Alpha…” he calls weakly for you, his instincts in conflict with itself; the wolf needs to buck into you until his knot softens and he has nothing left to give — but those final remnants of the human still linger, desperate and overwhelmed by his own body’s hunger.
His distress shakes you out of your daze, leaving you to feel oddly unsatisfied and untethered. The mating is not yet finished; Wooyoung’s spirit tugs at yours but it is one-sided, incomplete. You are incomplete.
But you push your discomfort aside, knowing it is only temporary. You have been through this before; Wooyoung hasn’t. He needs you to be strong, to guide him.
You run a clawed hand through his hair and press a soft kiss on his swiftly healing mark. The bleeding has stopped already. “Do you trust me, sweet pup?” you ask, trying to sound gentle despite the roughened edge in your voice.
“Y-yeah,” Wooyoung sniffles, turning his head so he can nuzzle at your palm.
“You can do this, I know you can,” you reassure him, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Been doing so well, my good boy, need you to be strong for me just a little longer.”
He nods shakily. “Oh-okay, hmnh, I trust you…”
Affection bubbles warmly in your chest, watching how Wooyoung tries to blink away his tears. Despite himself, he can’t stop his shallow rutting up into your cunt; his wolf knows he has yet more to give, won’t let him rest until he has spilled all his seed in your womb, safely stuffed inside by his knot.
There is no stopping this, and so you take him through it, as gentle as your canine impulses will allow; leading his confused body to pleasure with your hands and your mouth on his body, wherever you can reach, wherever makes him feel good.
Wooyoung follows easily, and soon his gasps and whimpers are sweet to your ears again; his body no longer confused. You stop holding back, sucking at his throat and clenching around his cock until he cums again, and again, sobbing and writhing in sublime torment as he generously fills you up, your stomach starting to distend from the sheer volume of his cum.
The shift inside him is gradual. His lupine side slowly grows louder, more demanding, until it is powerful enough to endure the onslaught on his senses. Wooyoung’s whimpers turn to low growls, gritted teeth sharpening into fangs, and a jolt of excitement sears through you.
It is time to bare your neck to him.
You tightly wrap yourself around Wooyoung and overturn the two of you, landing on your back so Wooyoung is on top of you, your legs locked around his waist with him still buried deep inside your wet cunt. Wooyoung yipes, disoriented by the sudden change, but groans deeply when you tangle a hand through his hair, yanking him to where you need him.
Wooyoung shudders as he breathes you in, mouthing at your neck and shoulders, tongue lavishing at the seven marks already there like he can taste your mates (his future mates) through them. He never stops his shallow, clumsy rutting, grinding his pelvis hard into your clit, his knot pressed against your walls.
Your breath hollows at the constant friction, panting at how he tongues your skin, honing in on his chosen spot. Your hand tightens in his hair, pressure building in your stuffed belly.
“Do it,” you rasp, voice hoarse from exertion and your own impending transformation. “Almost there, my pup. Do it, claim me.”
Wooyoung needs no further encouragement, budding fangs sinking into your shoulder, right next to Yeosang’s mark. Euphoric pain bursts through you as he bites down, still humping mindlessly in pursuit of more, more.
You mewl as tension coils and sings through you, every sensation intensified in the heat of the joining. Entangled in body and spirit, fierce desire spilling over into one another as the mating ritual is completed with a forceful rush of ecstasy. You clench around Wooyoung as the heat washes over you, clamping down on his thick knot with a ragged moan. Wooyoung snarls into your shoulder when your walls tighten around his cock, shuddering with yet another release as you pull him into freefall with you, a weightless plunge into searing pleasure.
Wooyoung trembles above you, his body shaking violently as he twitches and spills ever deeper inside your cunt. Humming with gratification, you press his hand against the swell of your stomach, to let him feel how he has filled you up. Wooyoung groans, careful not to dig his claws into your belly, still shaking.
His fangs finally detach from your injured flesh — and he immediately collapses on top of you, worn out from the mating and from cumming inside you so many countless times.
You breathe hard, putting your arms around Wooyoung’s collapsed body. For a moment you think he has passed out completely… but then you feel his raspy tongue on your skin, tiredly lapping at the fresh bite on your shoulder to try and encourage the wound to close up and heal into his mark, binding you together. Your body does not really need Wooyoung’s help, your innate regenerative powers more practised than his own, but you still burst with fondness at his care; pushing through his exhaustion to tend to you.
(You truly are so very lucky, to have found this mate.)
Wooyoung can’t possibly have much more left in him; but his wolf is not done with him yet. You can tell clearly from his scent and, more significantly, from the way his knot has not begun to soften yet.
Your lycan instincts roar at you to keep fucking Wooyoung, to drain him completely empty so he can breed you — but you repay his kindness, tending to him first.
Carefully, you gather Wooyoung in your arms, lifting him as you get up on your feet. He whines, his trapped cock twitching tiredly at the change in position. You are a little shaky from your own exhaustion, from holding your instincts down, but Wooyoung feels light as a feather under the power of the full moon.
You carry him to a sheltered spot right at the base of a cherry tree, where blossoms slowly flutter to the ground in a gentle breeze. There you find slight cover from the moonlight, and you know he can transform here with as much comfort as is possible.
Still careful, you lay Wooyoung down to straddle him again. He is whimpering, thick tears glistening on his cheeks, and a sweet satisfaction rumbles in your chest at the sight. You bend down and indulge in the taste of his flushed, salty skin with sweeping strokes of your tongue, the wet muscle slowly elongating as the full moon’s peak draws closer.
You don’t have much time left, so you slowly continue the shallow roll of your hips, mouth trailing down his neck to suck soothingly at his fresh mark. Your hands run up and down his chest, clawed fingers lightly scratching over his dark nipples.
“We’re not done yet, my sweet,” you hum in his ear, nipping at the lobe. “Gonna take all you have to give, make you stuff me full until I’m leaking around your knot, until I’m well and bred. Wouldn’t that be perfect, hm? My little pup giving me pups of his own.”
Your estrous cycle is not in its fertile phase right now, but that makes the thought of carrying Wooyoung’s litter no less sweet. How he would dote on his little ones, spoiling them rotten when he’s not busy trying to fuck more into your womb.
The thought stirs you up as much as it does Wooyoung; he snarls through his cries, bucking his hips in a futile attempt to flip you back over. You growl back at him in challenge, daring him to try. Making him waste all his excess energy as you ride him for a few final spurts of his seed until he cums dry inside you.
Wooyoung still whines and squirms, but it’s getting weaker and weaker, and his cock finally softens. It won’t be long before his knot follows, and you shower his teary face with tender kisses during the wait. You squeeze around him just one more time, unable to resist teasing a last whine out of your new mate.
He is completely worn out, just as you intended, moaning hoarsely when his knot gradually softens, a translucent trickle escaping past it onto Wooyoung’s lap. He makes a noise between relief and regret when you let his cock slip out, grabbing at your hips to keep you close.
Fur is starting to stand on his knuckles, and you huff in amusement when you realise he is pulling your hips forward while wiggling down himself, trying to get your thighs in his face.
“Greedy pup, haven’t I tired you out enough?” you lovingly chide him, pinching his cheek. You had anticipated for increased stamina, but his vigour goes beyond your expectations; you can only imagine what waits for you as he grows and settles into his full powers in the months to come.
Wooyoung grates out a low whine, an inhuman noise while the beast encroaches further onto his mind and body. “H-hungry…”
It can do no harm, you suppose, and you are never one to tell Wooyoung ‘no’ when he wants to sate his appetites on your cunt. So you indulge, allowing him to nuzzle at your soft thighs, smearing his cheeks with sticky arousal.
Tiredly he laps at your juices and the steady trickle of seed leaking from your cunt, his hand pressed on your belly. The bulge is less prominent without his cock and knot stuffing you full, but there is still a faint swell of his cum, amplifying the curve of your stomach.
You growl lightly at the lazy swipes of his tongue, leaving tingles of pleasure in its wake that are just enough to stir arousal but not enough to lead to a final release. Your own hunger snakes its eager tendrils through your veins, and you tangle a hand in Wooyoung’s hair to steer him, his mouth on your weeping hole and nose on your swollen clit.
He groans at your unspoken demand, fingers digging into your thighs as he slurps noisily and lets you use him freely for your needs. His tongue grows thicker as it elongates inside your velvet heat, and your grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightens with a sharp moan at the coarser texture against your walls, plunging as deep as it can reach.
You shudder and snarl, eyes squeezed shut in the chase for another high, closing in on your quarry with ease. Heat spikes in your core and fresh slick gushes onto Wooyoung’s long tongue as your thighs clench around him, like jaws snapping around their prey.
Panting hard, you ride it out against Wooyoung’s eager face, nudging his nose against your clit — but then the full moon reaches her highest point in the night sky, and Wooyoung cannot deny her any longer, even if you tried to keep him in line. But you don’t try, instead heeding the moon’s call same as him.
You shake off the unsteadiness from your orgasm best you can, and lift yourself off Wooyoung’s face to turn him around onto his elbows and knees, from where he claws at the moss and dirt around him, carving deep gashes into the dirt as his muscles and bones stretch and reshape themselves with loud, visceral noises.
Wooyoung is completely exhausted, so fucked out that he has barely any strength to fight the transformation; no human resistance left in him to make the process more painful and drawn out. Still, you hastily shift into your own wolf form, changes rippling through your body with a swift smoothness from countless moons of experience. It comes as natural to you as breathing, the enormous hulking mass of your canine body as familiar as your human shape.
You use your massive bulk to tower over Wooyoung, mounting his convulsing body to keep him restrained. Your maw gently but firmly closes around the nape of Wooyoung’s neck to calm him, partially shifted and covered with dark fur.
He spits out yowls and other animalistic noises as he changes underneath your, scrambling for purchase as hands and feet make place for clumsy paws. Wooyoung’s body swells in size, pushing against your larger form, but you stay firmly mounted until Wooyoung has completely slipped into his wolf and his shakes have subsided, slowly quieting down.
A hush falls over the forest in the wake of Wooyoung’s very first transformation.
Even you find yourself struck with awe as you clamber off of him, recognising the honour of being his witness. His crumpled form still breathes heavily, and you nudge your muzzle at his chest to help him upright, steadying him on his four legs.
Your sharp eyes take in his appearance with wonderment and admiration. Wooyoung is slightly undersized for a wolf, but with strong limbs and a beautiful shining coat, dark with conspicuous streaks of grey across the lines of his canine face. His eyes are a striking gold, long tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looks back at you with what you recognise to be a grin.
He yelps playfully and without further warning, roils back and pounces at you.
The following scuffle is embarrassingly short; he whines when you pin him yet again, but the sound is pleased, like he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. You huff a rumbling laugh of sorts and bend down to drag your tongue over his snout, overwhelmed with affection for your boisterous pup — no, wolf.
You throw your head back, and a deep howl echoes through the forest. Wooyoung joins you in a lupine duet, and it is not long before your other mates respond to the call with their own voices from elsewhere in the woods, knowing they have been summoned.
Mere minutes pass until they find you in the clearing, small groups of twos and three emerging from the cover of the forest.
You watch how they approach Wooyoung and sniff at each other; your mates are meeting Wooyoung for the first time all over again, while Wooyoung perceives them in greater depth, enriched by his wolf’s perspective.
Wooyoung basks in the attention, ears perked up and tail wagging adorably; your pup may have grown into a wolf, but he is not quite a predator yet. Seonghwa takes the last turn to reacquaint himself with Wooyoung, and immediately tries to groom his future mate, nipping at his fur — but Wooyoung has no patience to keep still, his energy renewed and bursting at the seams from his metamorphosis.
He slips away from Seonghwa and decides to test his newfound powers again with another playful pounce — targeting Jongho this time. Jongho, among the very strongest in the pack, predictably snorts and bucks Wooyoung off him with ease, retaliating within the blink of an eye.
Just like that, you and your mates spent the night together with playfights and chases, with long peaceful interludes where you are curled up against each other in a large pile of paws and fangs and fur, napping and grooming one another. You do not nap however, tireless under the moon and from the exhilaration of your new connection to Wooyoung, who whines affectionately as you lick at his face and lock your jaws gently around his muzzle.
As the night draws to a close, you lead Wooyoung away from your other mates, who seem to instinctively understand your needs. They let you have this one last selfish impulse, to keep Wooyoung for yourself again when he changes back.
You lay pressed together in the grass at the edge of the forest, blossoms scattered around you, watching the sun come up in the distance after the moon has shied away.
The transformation back to one’s human side is much easier, especially after a fulfilling night like this. The wolves have been sated, willing to rest until they are called upon again. It’s not long before Wooyoung’s naked human form rests next to you, half draped over your own body as he nuzzles at the fresh mark on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“Are you alright, my pup?” you hum at him, gently carding your fingers through his dishevelled hair. Your skin tingles at the press of his lips against his bite.
“‘M not a pup anymore,” he mumbles against your shoulder, childishly petulant but, strictly speaking, not wrong either.
You breathe out a laugh at his grousing. “Of course, you big strong wolf,” you tease him, “but you are still my good boy, right?”
Wooyoung raises his head, dark eyes glittering in the budding sunlight with an unexpected solemnity in his expression. “Always,” he says, and rubs his nose against yours. “That’s what this means, right? I never have to leave now?”
You swallow down a sudden lump in your throat, resolving yourself to never stop pouring your care and affection into the deep well of Wooyoung’s heart. To make sure he never feels the need to ask that question ever again.
“You could have stayed no matter what. This pack is your home now, whether you are our mate or not,” you press on him, foreheads touching, “…but no, you never have to leave.”
Wooyoung’s worry fades at your reassurance — and makes way for a crooked grin as he cheekily bites his lip at you. “Would you hunt me down if I tried?”
With a good-natured growl, you flip Wooyoung onto his back and sit on his thighs, hands pushing his shoulders down. “Every single time,” you rasp. “We all would, all eight of us. You’d never stand a chance.”
Wooyoung draws a shaky breath, and you are amused to feel him twitch against your cunt. Seriously?
“All eight of you,” he sighs out, almost wistfully. “Doesn’t feel real yet, that you are my mate now. Tonight… tonight was just… yeah. Wish it never ended.” He tiredly grins up at you. “And I got seven more times waiting for me.”
He giggles, clearly not complaining about the prospect, and cranes his neck to reach up for a light kiss. You meet his lips halfway, deepening the kiss with just a touch of possessiveness at the mention of the other mating rituals.
It’s that inherent contradiction once again; even if your possessive streak is fading now that your mating bite clearly stands out against Wooyoung’s skin, a faint echo still rings through you, urging you to keep him to yourself — but you also revel at the prospect of witnessing how Wooyoung accumulates seven other marks next to yours, tightening his bonds into your family until you are one great whole.
It’s the latter emotion that asserts its dominance right now, your wolf humming contently at the thought of you and your family engulfing Wooyoung with such fierce devotion that he will always know that he belongs.
“Seven times,” you promise him in a hush, pecking his lips again, “and then a lifetime more to come.”
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
You asked for doctor remus request and here is am 😅 This is a fully self indulgent request as i’m sick rn and i’m all alone and i have to still do everything and take care of everything and i just want doctor remmy to put me on bed rest and just dote on me and make me soup and hug me when i cry like a baby because i always turn into such a mess and just want to be cared for??? Hope you have a great night/day lovely!! 💕
Hope you have a great day/night as well!
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 631 words
You’d both been sure your supply of cough drops would last you through the night, but Remus is beginning to lose faith. It breaks his heart hearing you try to quiet yourself, your back convulsing as you press your face into your pillow. You’d tried to sleep on the couch, then when that didn’t work tried to get him to sleep on the couch, but Remus won’t be separate from you. It doesn’t matter to him how late the both of you are kept awake. He’s already called in for tomorrow anyway, just like he did for today. 
“Do you want some tea?” he asks. 
“No, thanks,” you manage, coughing around every syllable. 
He hums his understanding and sets a hand on your back, moving it up and down your spine in a motion he hopes will console you. Heat radiates from your skin, still not enough to really worry him but enough that he’s sure you’re feeling muddled and exhausted. You hadn’t slept much last night either. 
At his touch you curl in on yourself as if pained, and the noise that escapes you sounds so broken Remus sits up. Though the light coming in through the window is dim, he can see the dejection etched into the lines of your expression and the shiny wetness of your eyes. 
A low sound slips from the back of his throat. Remus slides his hand up to your shoulder, drilling his thumb in small circles over your collarbone. “What is it, honey, is your head still bothering you?” 
His sympathy worsens your crying, which worsens the coughing. Remus waits for the fit to pass, thumb moving over your skin all the while. 
“Yeah,” you say once you can manage. “Everything hurts. I’m so tired of this, Rem. I want to sleep, and I just—” Furiously, you take a tissue from the nightstand, blowing your nose. “I just want my fucking ears to pop.” 
Remus could almost laugh at the way the curse hiccups out of you, if you didn’t sound so pitiful. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You turn over to face him, and he cups your face in the basin of his palm. When you close your eyes, he strokes the skin beneath with his thumb. His poor girl, so desperate for comfort. He wishes terribly this was one of the ailments he could just banish in a day. “You should start to feel better soon.” 
Remus realized your cold had turned into a sinus infection after it suddenly got worse when it was supposed to be getting better. He got you on antibiotics that same day, but unfortunately they don’t work quickly enough to save you the misery of the early stages. You’ve been plagued with the cough, a blocked up nose, and a relentless headache since yesterday morning. 
The good news is, sinus infections aren’t contagious. 
Remus gives you a kiss. Your lips are warm and slightly chapped, and you taste like the soup he’d made you for dinner. He knows he can’t convey all his love and caring through the press of his mouth, but he tries anyway. 
“Do you want me to warm up the flannel for your sinuses again?” he asks.
You sniffle, looking guilty. “I don’t want you to have to get up.” 
“I’m up,” Remus says, kissing a salty tear off your cheek before sitting upright. “Sure you don’t want some tea, dove? I’ll be in the kitchen anyways, and it can cool while you lay with the flannel.” 
“Yes, please,” you murmur. You reach up a hand out of the covers, and he takes it as he rounds the bed, squeezing obligingly. “Thank you, Rem.” 
“Don’t mention it,” he tells you. 
In the end, you’re not awake long enough to drink your tea. 
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youaresimplylovely · 5 months
Note
Lando Norris x really sick reader please!!! (Self indulgent I think I’m close to death rn 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏)
My Poor Baby
Pairings: Lando Norris x Sick!Reader Summary: Lando takes care of his sick girl <3 Words: 417 Proofread!! A/N: love this so much!! Hope you get well soon and for requests, im accepting them and they are open!! So keep them coming!! Alsooo, dividers are designed by me <3
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"Baby?" Lando called you out, taking his coat off and hanging it in the coat racket next to the front door.
"Baby? Where are you?" He reiterated with concern in his voice, his eyes sharply looking all around the downstairs trying to find you. Eventually, he decided to check upstairs. Maybe you were there. He hoped. He opens the door of your bedroom to see you all huddled up with the blankets, stuffed toys, and the endless pile of tissues on the floor.
His heart shattered seeing you all sick, his eyes were full of concern. Approaching you softly as he sits next to you on the bed. He pulls you in for a tight hug, he knew he shouldn't be doing that but his baby was sick. He didn't care if he did too.
You pout seeing your boyfriend hug you, a loud sneeze comes out of you but you didn't sneeze exactly right on his face. "Nooo i'm gonna get you sick." You say in your clearly congested voice.
Immediately pulling away from the hug as you sneeze somewhere that wasn't close to Lando. You groan, taking another tissue to clear out your stuffy nose, throwing the used tissue on the pile of used tissues. You look at Lando with puppy eyes, you were so ill that you were on the verge of tears.
You pout, burying your face on his chest while you sob relentlessly even if you knew that you weren't supposed to get close to him. "I feel awful Lan!" You really did, everything hurt. Your head, your whole body, your nose from all the blowing you did.
"I know baby, i know, I'm here." He coos, wrapping his arms around you again.
"I'll go make you your favorite noodle soup and i'll feed you. We can cuddle and stay in bed all day and watch our favorite tv show. Is that good for you baby?" He hums softly, grabbing a tissue to help you blow your nose.
You sniffle, smiling happy at your boyfriend being so caring. You blow your nose in the tissue. You were gonna cry again but you didn't instead you hugged him tighter. "I love you." you mumble, burying your face on his neck.
"I love you more my poor baby but you won't be so poor now because you have me and i will take good care of you. Even if it means getting myself sick too." He smiles softly, planting a kiss on your forehead.
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slytherinshua · 5 months
Text
TEARS AND WARMTH
genre. hurt/comfort. warnings. reader cries a lot. mention of a fight. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 804. request. requested by anon: can you write a fic of myung jaehyun where reader and him had a little argument and now reader was in his lap hugging him and crying like a baby in his chest a/n. usually i don't finish requests this fast but i saw it and i was just immediately like :( cause jaehyun is so </3 and i said i was out of my bonedo fic streak but apparently not i just love them and they deserve so many more fics than they have :(
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You hated fighting with your boyfriend more than anything, but it was impossible to have a completely conflict-free relationship. Arguments were rare, but one had arisen earlier that day over Jaehyun never being able to answer the phone because of work. It was small, and, in hindsight, much less important than it had felt in the moment. Emotions were still high, and you had retreated to your room while Jaehyun was still downstairs, probably finding something to eat.
You felt most guilty about arguing with him as soon as he walked through the door. He hadn’t even had a chance to eat dinner before, which probably worsened the outcome of the argument. He was more irritable when hungry, and you had been stewing over your hurt feelings about the missed calls all day. It exploded in a way which you had never meant originally, and while you had apologised pretty quickly, you had yet to say anything else to him. The fight was still technically unresolved, and left hanging in the air.
You had missed Jaehyun terribly all day, and you wanted nothing more than to feel safe in his arms again, but the worry that he was still annoyed at you lingered in the air as you drew back your hand from the door handle. Still, you could hear him humming from the kitchen, so that meant he was in a better mood, right?
You crept down the stairs, peering your head into the room where your boyfriend was finishing the dishes. He turned around after drying his hands, finally spotting you in the doorway. 
“Baby,” The words spilled from his mouth like a habit, and it made your heart clench in your chest and tears start to prick at your waterline. You hated fighting with him. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted earlier.” He said quietly, noticing your teary eyes as he got closer to you.
“I’m not mad at you, I promise.” He reassured, already being able to guess what you were most worried about. He led you to the couch and sat down, pulling you down onto his lap gently after he was settled. By now the tears had made their way down your cheeks, staining your skin in streaks.
Looking at Jaehyun’s face and the way his eyes were staring into yours with so much worry and regret and love made you cry harder. You sank into his chest, sobs racking your body.
You bunched his hoodie in your fists, pulling him closer even though he was already as close as possible. He held you tightly, heart aching with every broken whimper that left your throat. He let you cry as long as you needed to, starting to feel emotional about the fight as well. He cried as easily as you did— or even more, but he tried to keep composed. It wouldn’t be helpful to anyone if both of you were emotional wrecks. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He mumbled, kissing your ear softly, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He reached over to the side table where a tissue box sat as best as he could, grabbing a few for you to wipe your tears and blow your nose now that your sobs had died down.
You cleaned up a bit shyly, hiding your face back in his shoulder as soon as possible. You weren’t embarrassed to show your face to him, but you longed to be as close to him as humanly possible for as long as you could. With the way he was holding you— strong arms wrapped around your back, stroking it soothingly while the scent of his cologne reached your nose and calmed your senses— you felt as if you could easily fall asleep. He rested his cheek on top of your head, finding a way to be even closer to you.
“Jae,” You whispered, your voice muffled by his hoodie. He hummed, his warm breath hitting your head before a kiss was placed over the same spot. 
“I hate fighting with you.” You mumbled, a frown etched on your face.
“I know, baby. I hate it too.” He agreed. “Can I see your face? Wanna give you a kiss.” 
You lifted your head just slightly, enough to blink your eyes open and see your boyfriend’s fond smile. He connected your lips, making sure the kiss was as gentle and loving as possible. It was slow and warm, and you never wanted it to end. If you had your way, you would kiss Jaehyun for the entire day; but you neither had the time, nor the breath for such a feat. So you had to be content with the long overdue kiss he gave you now, with no intention of leaving the warmth of his hold for the rest of the night.
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cowgurrrl · 5 months
Text
Roll The Bones
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Author’s note: I wrote this in the midst of a flare up so please enjoy and be gentle with your disabled friends <3
Summary: A bad pain day with Joel [1.5k]
Warnings: descriptions of injuries and subsequent chronic pain, medical settings and discussion, I think that’s it??
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When Joel finds you, you're in a pitiful state. Your arm is folded over your face, covering your eyes even though the blinds are closed and the room is dark. Your right leg is peeking out from under the bundle of blankets and quilt, elevated with a lukewarm towel surrounding the swelling kneecap. The room smells like the salve someone in the town makes that's supposed to alleviate your pain. So far, it's just given you a headache. Your entire body throbs with pain and frustration. It shouldn't be like this, you think ruefully. I shouldn't feel like this. 
Joel lightly pads over to your bedside— his footsteps quiet now that he's discarded his boots by the front door— and perches next to you. His hand finds a home on your afflicted knee and carefully maneuvers his thumb over the tendons to help with the pain. You shift the arm covering your face to reach for him, and he smiles. 
"There she is," he murmurs as you take him in. His hair is long and a little unruly in the back, but you think it makes him look soft and domestic. He's shed his work jacket and heavier clothes downstairs and is clad in his soft, well-worn-in flannel. He smells like pine and leather. You want to wrap yourself in his warmth but settle for having him nearby. "Ellie told me you were havin' a rough day." He says. It doesn't surprise you that she did, even though you promised her you were fine and didn't need him. It's become rare that she doesn't update him daily on your health.
About a year ago, you were on patrol with Tommy when a Runner came out of nowhere and charged at your horse. She startled and bucked you off before you could regain control of the reins. The Runner was dead before you could hit the ground, and your horse would be recovered within the day, but the damage was done. You broke your leg in two places and dislocated your knee, in addition to a low-level concussion and cuts on your face and arms. When you came back into Jackson on Tommy's horse, half-conscious, bloody, and delirious with pain, Joel was horrified, Ellie even more so.
You were in the hospital for a month as they used what they could to put you in something akin to a cast and reset the bones. Joel and Ellie took turns being guards at your bed, monitoring what they gave you, when, and how much, and how your healing process was going. They were there with you every day, learning the tips and tricks to support you and keeping you sane as you stared at the white walls. 
Six months, the doctor said. Six months is all it would take to be back to normal as long as you did everything you were supposed to. Things have gotten better slower than you would like, but they have gotten better. You have really good days where you don't feel anything other than slight twinges when you move your leg in a weird way. Those days, it's hard to remember that you broke it in the first place. But other days, like today, you can feel every muscle in your leg tightening as stiff pain rockets up and down your body. You thought you could persevere enough to go to the store with Ellie, but your body obviously had other plans.
"My leg gave out on me when I was coming down the stairs. Pretty sure I made the whole house shake when I fell." You explain, and his eyebrows knit together in phantom pain as his thumb works your muscle. 
"You hurt anythin'?" He asks. "Other than your pride?" You blow air out of your nose in a half-laugh and shake your head. 
"Just some bruises," you say. He finds a tender spot in your knee that makes you hiss and ball up your fists, but he doesn't let up until the muscle releases. It's what he's supposed to do: break up the scar tissue, relax the muscles, and hope for the best. It still hurts like a bitch, and it'll hurt more in the morning. He mumbles apologies under his breath and kisses you to try and distract you, but your brain's been running wild for hours. "I went so long without any pain." You finally say, breaking the reverie and collapsing the unwanted space your pain often creates. 
"You've been takin' on a lot these past few weeks. It doesn't surprise me somethin' would flare up." It's an honest assessment. He warned you this would happen, but you ignored him. You thought you knew your body better. You wanted to know your body better. The returning thought and the gentle hand on your knee turn your tongue into sandpaper, and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. Despite the low light in the room, Joel catches it and makes a sympathetic noise. 
"Hey, talk to me." He says softly, shifting his hand from your knee to your face to catch a few stray tears. You shake your head and try and fail to form the words. Joel is patient. He always is, but he shouldn't have to be. 
"I'm so tired of being like this." You whisper, hating the feel of the words on your tongue and hating the sound of them even more. Joel gives you a confused look and pushes your hair out of your face. 
"Bein' like what?"
"Sick," you choke out. Now that the dam is broken, there's no stopping the bitter rush of words from leaving you. "We took her across the country and got rid of anyone who even looked at her wrong. Now, I can't even get on a horse without hurting. And I do all the stupid fucking things the doctor tells me to do. I do the exercises and take the medicine and everything, and nothing is making it better, and I'm so tired." 
"Why didn't you tell me that?" 
"Because I didn't want you to think I'm broken." It's a thought you've harbored since you were laid up in the hospital, unable to even walk to the bathroom without help, but this is the first time you've expressed it. You secretly hoped if you just didn't say anything about it, maybe Joel wouldn't notice. It's a stupid idea, given that your entire lives have changed since the accident. You just didn't want to get thrown away like all the other broken things in this world. Joel takes a deep breath and gazes at you. 
"Honey, you aren't broken. Not even close to it," he says. You want to counter him, but the weight of your emotion is too heavy on your chest. "I wanna know if somethin' is hurtin' you cause when you hurt, I hurt, okay? You're not a burden or somethin' to fix. You just… need a little extra care right now, and that's okay. I wanna take care of you."
"What if it's like this forever?" You ask, and he shakes his head. 
"It won't be."
"But, what if it is?" More tears fill your eyes as you await his answer. He didn't fall in love with this version of you. You don't know if you could blame him if he never does. But with enough ease and love to take your breath away, Joel kisses your forehead, right where your temple smacked against the cold ground. He kisses your forehead and the white scars littering your cheeks before finally shifting to kiss the knee propped up on pillows and hope. He doesn't flinch at the swelling or the angry spasms. He treats them with care and attention. He treats them as another part of you. 
"Takin' care of you has never and will never be on the list of worst things imaginable. Your health is not a sacrifice or a burden on me. If it's like this forever, we'll adapt, but I know you. I know how hard you're workin' to get better. I know we'll find a way to live with this," he says. "But I need you to talk to me when things aren't workin'. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's helpin' and what's not, okay?" You swallow around the lump in your throat and nod. 
"Okay." 
"Okay," he echoes. "I'm gonna get you an appointment with Dr. Lutton and see if we can't get you on a new treatment plan first thing tomorrow mornin'. Is there anythin' I can do for you until then?" He asks, fully prepared to go to the edge of the earth if you asked him to. 
"Can you lay with me?" You ask, and he smiles. 
"Of course, baby." He mumbles. He kisses your knee one more time before shuffling to wrap you in his arms. The warmth from his body helps relieve some of your tension and pain, and he kneads calming circles over your shoulders and back. Your focus shifts from the pain in your leg to the song he's humming, the vibrations in his chest a welcome distraction. The pain doesn't go away entirely— you doubt it ever will— but you rest your weary body against his and sleep, finding wholeness in his acceptance of your loss. 
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