#that make you realize that your childhood is running out and fast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nezuscribe · 4 months

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

summary: once childhood friends with the crown prince, you find yourself in a troubled situation when he calls for you to help him around with his daily duties as the king to be. he seems to have forgotten everything, forgotten who you even were. but as the palace's most loyal servant there's only so many things that you can tolerate, including the prince.

warnings: 18+ mdni, slight angst misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, minor panic attack/overall anxiety (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo is a certified munch

word count: 14.1k (sorry)

note: i can only write gojo in a royal setting now so that’s that. i really liked writing this fic so comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

jjk masterlist

it all started with that night.

when the air was biting, cold and harsh. the moon offered so little of her light as you ran across the open foyer, feeling your tear stained cheeks more than you had back in the ballroom as you could barely feel your heartbeat, not stopping until you were out of the grand double doors, running as fast as you could through the gardens until you were sure everything and everybody was far behind you.

you continued for a little more, finding yourself at the foot of the rose gardens, your chest heaving up and down, sweat dotting your forehead. you were sure the rouge that you had so carefully dotted onto yourself was ruined now, but that was the least of your worries.

you place a hand on your chest, catching your breath, looking behind you to make sure that nobody had followed you outside. most nights, such as ones like this, you enjoyed the freckles of stars above you, but now, all that filled your mind were the events of moments ago.

the staring, the judgment.

“is everything all right?”

your head snaps around, your eyes wide in shock as you find a man standing behind you, a careful feet away so as to not startle you even more than he already had. you couldn't make out his face in the darkness, but with your blurry vision, you doubt you could make out your own reflection.

you nod feverishly, trying for a smile that was shaking and quivering as you turn away for a second, patting your cheeks dry as you try out for a weak laugh.

“yes, t-thank you,” your voice cracks, your lips trembling and your breathing heavy. your uniform and apron was sticking tightly to your skin and everything seemed as if it was tilted on an axis. you felt like the world was spinning in the opposite direction, and had it not been for the strong hands behind you that steadied you upwards, you were sure you would’ve fallen down.

“miss, are you sure everythings alright? surely i can call for a-” the man stops when you shake your head quickly, just realizing how much trouble you were going to be in if your superior ever saw you missing from your post.

“no, thank you, i, i have to go,” you try to stand up again but stumble, grateful that he still had a steady hand on your elbow, “i apologize, i don’t know why i’m so dizzy.” you say, holding your head in your hands, trying to ease your temple with the thumping it was doing.

“would it perhaps be because you ran through the entire courtyard in a matter of seconds?” his voice is low yet teasing, and you should be embarrassed and mortified that somebody saw you, but you feel beside yourself tonight and laugh, nodding along.

“perhaps,” there’s a small smile on your face, but the gentleman chuckles along, helping you stand comfortably, making sure you didn’t need him until he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t topple over.

“are you not enjoying the festivities?” he remains a good distance away from you, though you’re glad he’s given you some space.

you swallow thickly, rubbing at your eyes and cheeks to rid them of the tears but they just seem to be non-stop.

“the festivities aren’t the problem,” you sniffle, hiccuping as you laugh wetly, “i just seem to be too sensitive for the likes of them.” you say the last word with some weight.

you thought that after all these years, after all the times you proved you’re more than your lineage, somebody always manages to bring it up.

he doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, the only sound that you can hear is your shuddered breathing.

“take in a deep breath,” his words are soft, but your head snaps up, confused.

“it’s a breathing exercise,” he explains further, gently, “one in, one out,” he places a sturdy hand on your back, one that was too close for if a chaperon were to ever see you in such a compromising position you would be ruined, “we’ll do it together, i’ll count.”

your eyes are squeezed shut, but you mimic your breathing to his rhythmic breathes, your mouth open as small puffs of air fill your collapsing lungs. it takes a while for this sort of breathing pattern to take effect, but it helps you to calm down a bit. your nerves are still erratic, but it’s better than before.

“there you go,” his voice is soothing, calming, something you’ve never heard before, something you’ve never known you’ve needed.

there’s a few beats of silence, your eyes squeezed shut until you finally open them again to get a good look of who this stranger was.

“i have to thank you…” you trail off, your breath catching harshly in your throat when you're met with those familiar eyes, the same ones you see in the paintings you are set to clean each and every day, the same ones that look at yo with childish joy when he used to chase you around the courtyard when you were children. the infamous white hair, a tale telling of his lineage, and the countless medallions on his suit.

you don’t know what to do, and you take a tentative step back. all the feelings of fear, of embarrassment, of dread coming rushing back, but ten times worse.

“sato…y-your highness, i,” you stagger backwards, “i…” you’re at a loss for words, your breaths coming out erratic again.

he reaches his hand out for you to take again, his brows furrowed in confusion with you sudden change of emotions, growing into even more confusion when he gets a better look at you, memories rushing back at the strange familiarity of your face, but you don’t know as you scrunch your uniform between your fingers, muttering some unintelligible words under your breath as you bow hurriedly, brushing past him as you speedily make your way back to the palace, breaking about every protocol you have been taught since your first day there,

blissfully unaware of just how much your life was about to change.

—

the life of a palace maid is a bustling one, full of daily duties that fill your time from the moment you wake up to the moment you put your head down to rest. dusting the staircases, making sure the royal portraits are in tip-top shape, and, of course, tending to any of the needs the royals themselves need.

you were lucky in your position, not too close to the top where any slight mess up could be your undoing, but far up where you could enjoy the more tedious and rewarding of tasks that others, such as the kitchen workers or the stables servants, may not have the luxury of having. you count your lucky stars every day that you’re not stuck cleaning fru-fru’s (the king's prized horse) droppings.

“there really are no breaks,” lydia muttered under her breath, folding the freshly cleaned linen sheets as you gave her a look from under your lashes, warning her to be careful with her words, never too sure of how alone you two could be, “what? it’s just the truth.”

you snort, not disagreeing with her because it was the truth. there had been royal balls upon endless balls, countless gala’s and feasts for the past couple of months. the prince was finally rumored ready to take on a wife, and all the eligible bachelors and their mamas have flocked to the scene, ready to become part of the gojo family.

the last one had been all but two weeks ago, the same one where…you couldn’t think of it too much, glad that nobody else was there to witness your trivial breakdown. all except the prince, of course, but you hadn’t been beheaded yet so you never mentioned it to anybody.

but, despite the last social gathering being so recent, another one was about to take place in a week. everybody could feel their hands splitting raw at the thought of cleaning the palace once again, but it was all in a day's work.

“though i must say, you always seem to find a way to entertain yourself through all these surely grueling events,” you tease, a knowing look in your eyes as an unmistakable blush takes over her cheeks.

“well!” she exclaimed, laughing under her breath as she fanned herself with her gloved hand, picking up another sheet to fold, “if a young man displayed his notable affections towards me, i would only be mad not to entertain them.”

“you’re such a flirt,” you giggle, careful to keep your voices quiet so that nobody would come and break the two of you up. you were fortunate enough to spend most of your time with your closest friend, but if anybody ever got a whiff of just how much the two of you enjoyed folding bed sheets or tidying up the king's study.

“there have been countless events, and yet, there is no wife,” she says this more as a statement rather than anything, “do you think it’s because the prince is cruel?”

she was right about this, too. it was more often than not when lydia was wrong.

it had been a couple months of trying to set the prince up with his rightful match. women from corners of the earth, places you’ve never heard of, have found their ways to these balls and galas. of course, the palace did all they could to quell the rumors on why it was taking their beloved prince so long to find a wife, and yet, they could do so much. the rumors were beginning to grow, and none in his favor.

you laugh uncomfortably, hoping that nobody could hear the two of you in this closet.

“the prince? cruel?” you shrug, feigning indifference.

he wasn't cruel when you met him.

and he never was crue all those years agol, or at least from what you could recall.

because before there was lydia, there was satoru.

so many years ago, you and the prince were childhood friends. he somehow introduced himself one of the days you were cleaning the castle, your uniform still so large seeing how it was made for a teenager and you were yet to reach six, so you were swallowed by it. but he didn't seem to care much about who you were, rather the fact that he was able to find somebody around his age, happy to have a friend that didn’t have to practice fencing with.

the two of you were close, as close as a prince and a young maid can get.

you never had a semblance of a normal childhood, but for those few years that you had known him, he offered you some normality that you would've never expected from the crown prince. at nights, when the two of you would meet up in a spare closet, he’d unravel a satchel full of bread and sweets, things he had stolen from his dinner table, knowing that your meals were often far smaller than his.

he didn’t seem to forget you, even as he grew in his adolescence. he’d still find you wherever you were, a bright smile on his face as you gave yourself a quick break, running around the gardens with him as you squealed, trying not to get caught by him as he tried to push you down into the river nearby.

but, you tended to be more level-headed than him, and easily foresaw the day that came when his advisors found out he had been befriending the servant girl, more specifically the daughter of the town courtesan, and before you knew it, you had been swept away, promised to never mingle with him again. they couldn’t strip you bare of your position at the palace, knowing that you worked for far less than others asked for and longer than most did, but they changed your place, your rooms, and you barely saw him again. he soon forgot, and you counted yourself lucky that you were still able to have a memory to latch on to.

“or perhaps he’s unlikely to even take a wife. he may prefer his time spent with multiple women, if you get what i mean,” she continues, your thought coming back into focus as you suddenly realize what she just said, swatting her with one of the towels while saying such an unbecoming thing about her prince.

“or maybe he’s taking his time,” you give her a pointed look for being so crass, “he might be holding out for a love match.” you say, your gaze focused on your nimble fingers as you fold the sheets as if it were second nature, your body moving faster than your mind was.

she snorts, rolling her eyes at your romantics.

“you can’t-” she goes to say something but is crudely cut off by the doors behind the two of you swinging open.

your necks snap around as you are instant to stand, bowing deeply to whoever it is that walks in, looking up only after a brief pause.

a part of you tenses upon seeing the housekeeper, miss lottie, entering in. her graying hairs were pulled back in a tight bun, the uniform that all the maids wore ironed to perfection. though she may not be as in her youth as she once was, her face was void of wrinkles, a feat, considering her position.

two men who you had never seen before walking in behind her, standing on either side as she motions for the both of you to introduce yourselves. lydia bows once again, saying her name, and you do the same.

“these are the last of my girls, gentlemen,” she starts with a sigh, massaging her temple, missing the confused look you and lydia shared as she offered no explanation for what was happening, “these are the only other maids in my department that wear this uniform.”

the two guards look at you and lydia top and down, their eyes racking over your features, your postures, your faces. you felt sweat prickling at the back of your neck, your hands growing clammy as your mouth dried.

surely, it can’t be.

“her,” one of the guards raised his gloved hand to you.

“her?” lydia cries out loud, earning a disapproving look from miss lottie, but the old woman seems to be just as confused as you and lydia.

“come with us,” the other one says, opening the door further, not seeming to care about your stupified state as you grip onto lydia’s wrist as tightly as you could.

you couldn’t speak, couldn't breath. you felt like you did that night, the same dreadful feeling that filled your veins and your lungs, keeping you from taking in the air you so desperately needed.

“gentlemen,” lydia takes a step forward, trying to shield you with her body, “i’m sure whatever it is you’re after, she,” she points her head over to you, “is certainly not it.”

this is it, you tell yourself, they’ve finally tracked you down.

the two guards don’t pay her any mind, don’t even address nor speak to her as they push her aside, wrenching your hands away from her as they try to move you forward, trying to move you away.

“miss lydia, please,” miss lottie almost seems to beg, has her brows furrowed in puzzlement as to what was happening, her mouth agape as she watches them take you away.

you feel your mind go hazy, your vision turning blurry as you dumbly follow the guards out of the room, the muted shouts of your friends growing softer and softer behind you as you walk through the halls you[‘ve been walking through for nearly your entire life,

not knowing if it would be your last.

—

the three of you walk for a while, and it doesn't help that nauseous and sinking feeling that you have growing in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around, your cheeks heating up in an uncomfortable flush when you caught the glances the others servants and maids gave, the way they began instantly whispering behind their gloved hands or one another as to what could be happening.

you quickly looked down, watching your steps. if you weren't ruined after whatever this was, the gossip that was to circulate about you surely would.

they lead you up a spiral staircase, through the east wing, and after some time, the walls and the floors begin to grow unfamiliar to you. these are the places that even you weren’t authorized to clean, places that only the most trusted and known people were allowed to be.

you peek around through the corners of your eyes, trying to take it all in one last time. there is more gold encrusted into the painting, the wall decorum, the ceiling. it’s more grand than you even thought the palace could be, and had it not been for your doomed fate, you would’ve tried to savor it more.

the guards in front of you suddenly stop in front of a door, and you almost bump into one of them had you not stopped yourself milliseconds before.

one of the guards raised his fist, knocking once, letting his hands fall behind his back.

you wait with baited breath until you hear a muffled, “come in,” from behind the door, and the other guard turns the knob, the door swinging wide open.

the two men come in before you do, their bodies hiding the view. you stay outside, your hands shaking, waiting until further instruction.

the guards are speaking to the person inside, their voice mixing with each other in your muddled head, and you feel your eyes begin to wet. all of your hard work, all the sacrifices you’ve made along the way, every sleepless night devoted to securing your rank and your future were now going up in flames.

“why didn’t you tell her to come in?” the first voice grows a little louder, “come in, miss,” he calls out, and you take in a deep, shaky breath.

you take a slow, tentative step inside, and then another one. your feet pad in quietly, your head ducked down in respect but also because you couldn't have these people seeing you like this, it was mortifying as it was.

you bow, knowing that you were in the presence of royalty from just the atmosphere of the room alone. you go down as low as you can, almost kissing the floor with your nose.

“you men can go now,” the voice, an all too familiar one, says.

you hear their heavy footsteps behind you, the door shutting with a thud.

“you can stand,” the prince says, his voice less loud and commanding.

you slowly rise, still keeping your head down, your eyes meeting a desk, some papers, and when you finally look up, the prince.

his smile quickly drops when he sees your face, quickly moving away from his seat as he rounds the table, making his way over to you as you quickly wipe away at your tears. it was breaking your etiquette protocol for how you were to act if you were to ever come face to face with royalty, but you don’t see any point in acting in such a way when this is somehow quite similar to your first encounter.

“are you hurt?” he quickly asks, standing a foot away from you, his eyes darting around your body as you quickly shake your head, sniffing as you stand as perfectly still as you could.

“were my guards rough with you?” he looks behind himself at the door, “i will have a word with them immediately-”

but you shake your head again, swallowing thickly as you dip your head down once, going to speak.

“it was not the guards, your highness,” you feel like time is stopping as he stares intently at you, “i just have an apathy for being too emotional at times.” you try to joke, but with the way your heart was beating so loudly and erratically, it drowned out any humor you may have been trying for.

“is it perhaps because you’ve been called to the prince's study with no reason or explanation?” he jokes, his eyes look at you from beneath his long lashes and you laugh wetly.

“perhaps,” you accept the handkerchief he gives you with a small thank you.

you wipe at your tears, quickly composing yourself with taking a couple of more steady breaths, and you were glad that the prince was at least giving you this time to look a little more presentable until he sentenced you to your punishment.

“right, well,” he claps his hands together, a small smile on his face as he inches backwards until he’s able to sit on his desk, not caring for the slue of papers underneath, “i’m glad i was finally able to find you.”

find you?

you don’t say anything, your eyes taking him in for the first time, and for the first time, the rumors were correct.

he was positively gorgeous.

the veil of night hid a lot of his features, leaving only the more pronounced things for you to see. not only that, but you had been sworn to keep away from him, the last time you were really able to see him was years ago.

but now, illuminated under the light from the large windows to the side of him, you can see him as clearly as you possibly could. his eyes were striking and stark, a blue that you could only get if you looked at the sea and saw all the colors mixing around together. his lips were plump and pink. his jaw was sturdy, but that could’ve been said along with the rest of his body, no longer looking like the lanky little boy that you were used to envisioning. though he donned a simple white button up, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing just how strong he was. everything about him exuded radiance, the spectacularity that only comes with being the crown prince.

you try to focus yourself again, and try not to melt under the way he noticed you staring too hard, his smile turning into something far more teasing.

he wets his lips, sitting up a little bit straight, pushing himself off the table just a bit so that he could be closer to you.

“my name is satoru,” he extends his hand outward, and you stare at it.

oh, a part of you sinks, he doesn't remember you.

“shake, please” he says as if reading your mind, “my hand isn’t infected with a fungal disease if that’s what you’re worried about.”

you quickly nod, feeling sheepish as your hands slowly raise from where they were resting on your crumpled apron, fingers gently and barely there as they glide against his palm until your hand is enclosed in his, fingers curling around his as you shake.

his palm is soft, unlike yours which had grown rough and riddles with scratches and cuts from over the years. he shakes firmly yet gently, not too harsh unlike the other men whose hands you’ve shaken before, making it somewhat a point to not only bruise your skin but to show off their strength as you look at them with a sneer.

you don’t let go until he does, not wanting to seem rude or improper, and your hands quickly fall back down to your sides. you’re aware of the stains of food and dirt on your white apron, the way it is held together through stitches and intricate sewing. it’s a stark difference to what he’s wearing, even if simple, but the quiet opulence is what differentiates the two of you so easily.

he waits patiently and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for your name. you said it quickly, your eyes darting to him as you bow your head again.

“as i said,” he continued, his head turning as he looked out the window, taking in the scenery, “i have been trying my best to find you ever since, well, i’m sure you remember.”

“i was told by…miss marla scott, is it?” he asks, and you nod, miss lottie, “that you are one of, if not, her best girls.”

you nod again, not knowing what to do. he was going on about this as if all those years ago were a figment of your imagination, as if your childhoods weren’t linked together the way you recall them being. that could be for the best though, seeing how you could be in trouble if anyone were to remember.

“i’ve recently had to do away with some of my valets, they didn’t meet my expectations.” he scratches his jaw, looking back at you, his eyes simmering as you look at him from beneath your lashes.

“i would like for you to be my maid.” he finally said, his fingers playing with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth as it caught and reflected the sunlight.

there’s a beat of silence, a moment in which the two of you just look at each other.

you almost laughed in shock, your brows shooting upwards in surprise, hands interlinking themselves as they rested on your queasy stomach.

“p-pardon,” you swallow dryly, “pardon me?”

he waves it off, his eyes playful, obviously understanding that you weren’t expecting this and he runs a hand through his arctic hair. you intently watch his every movement, waiting for him to burst out into laughter and to say that this was all one big joke, one meant to set you up into a trap.

“you’d have to make my bed every day, make sure my room is clean. my office,” he motions to the room around the two of you, “as well. anywhere i am, you are. i’m not a particularly messy person, but i like the assurance a maid provides.”

��your highness,” you breathe deeply through your nose, a puff of air coming out as you smile shortly, “i am more than honored, but i’m not sure i’ve been trained the way a personal maid has been trained. i would hate to disappoint you,” you chose your words carefully, but he waves it all off with his gloved hand.

“you will be taught. after all, you are the best, are you not?” his eyes crease around the edges, waiting for you to simply nod once again, and you do, slowly.

“but, your highness, i…” you trail off, failing silent and running out of words as you find yourself sputtering under his gaze. you’re usually one who’s easily composed, your back straight and shoulders pressed backwards, but you feel it all slipping away.

“why me? i surely couldn’t have made a favorable impression the first time we met, your highness.”

he looks at you for a moment, brief, fleeting.

“you’re human, it happens,” he simply says, his eyes flickering a different shade, “my mother always tells me that we forget to exhaust the capabilities that connect us together,” he rubs in between his brows, soothing the crease, not going any further into his explanation when he looks up at you, his smile debonair, “now, do you accept?”

you suck in a breath.

one nod.

yes.

—-

you were quickly swept away from your normal routine of things to become the princes maid, something that you could barely even get out once lydia was able to ask you about what had happened. you can remember the looks you received after walking to your new quarters, a private room for the first time in your life, by the people who judged you the first time around, feeling a little victorious with your single back packed with the three changes of clothes you owned.

you spent days going over what was to be expected of you, and it all felt like it was a joke.

it was too simple, too easy of a job with an even simpler explanation from the prince as to why you were even here.

“his highness wakes up early, so you will need to be up before he is,” one of the ladies who was briskly walking around the princes caves explained rapidly, “and his nighttime schedule is, well, hectic, which means you will have to be with him until he goes to sleep.”

you blink, trying to get that all in as you take mental notes of everything you are being taught.

“and during the day? where should i be?”

she looked up at you as if you were an idiot, as if that was the most obvious question you could’ve asked.

“by his side, of course, you are to ensure his highness is always comfortable. your role is beyond making his bed or simply cleaning up after him. it’s making sure that our prince is at ease when he is to one day become our king.”

you never thought you would be standing behind the door of the prince's chambers, waiting for him to wake up, but your life always seemed to have a different plan waiting for you than what you’d expect.

it’s better than you’d expect it to have been, too. at first, it was difficult getting used to the prince and his way of doing things. he would act rash sometimes, acting without thinking of the consequences. he was playful, he loved laughing. there were times when you’d be standing a good distance away from him when he’d be having dinner with families of women who were there to marry him, diplomats that talked just to bore it would seem, and you’d catch his wandering eye, suppressing a smile that seemed to quirk up on his face as well.

it wasn’t long before you found yourself speaking more freely around him, keeping some of the pleasantries, but regarding him more as a friend, just as you would with lydia.

he would often spend hours away in his study just talking, telling you about his daily outings and the struggles he was having with finding a wife. whenever you offered your thoughts or opinions he listened thoughtfully, his gaze heavy and caring.

though he may not have remembered your ancient friendship, you did, and an old part of you feels like it’s coming back after all those years. the naive part that was just happy to have a person to talk to, somebody that wouldn’t look at you in disgust or pity.

but you bring your focus back to now, listening intently, waiting to hear the bed sheets ruffle and the floorboards to creak as he makes his way out of his bed.

after a couple of weeks of doing this you’ve become somewhat familiar with the prince's way of doing things, and just as you thought he was going to sleep in, you hear the bedsheets ruffle with movement.

“your highness?” you call quietly, “may i come in?”

there’s a loud yawn, something unintelligible, and then you hear the go ahead for you to go.

you slowly open the door, making sure not to be loud as you bow politely, closing the door before you as you set the tray of cold water and fruits down on the nightstand near his bed.

the prince prefers to eat something before he breaks his fast in front of his family and the watchful eyes of the palace, enjoying these small moments he has with himself.

“good morning your highness,” you greet, lighting the candle as you look behind your shoulder to see the prince groggily running at his eyes, yawning once again as he waves tiredly to you.

why he chooses to wake up before the sun is even in the sky is beyond you, but you would be mad to question the choices of the prince. unfortunately, he seems to be waking up even earlier than the times you were told, so every morning you find yourself getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure you’re up before he is.

“did you sleep well?” you walk around the bed, setting down some fresh sheets and clothes for him to pick out, opening the curtains as you watch the sun just barely peek out from the horizon.

“well enough,” his voice is deep, filled with sleep, and you're glad your back is momentarily turned so that he couldn’t see the way a smile threatened to poke its way on your face.

“i’m glad to hear,” you turn around, catching him briefly taking a swing of water, savoring its coolness, and you try not to look too long at the droplets that roll down his chin, splattering on his thigh, “would you like me to go through your events set for the day?”

he glances at you from over his cup, blinking as he wordlessly tells you to continue.

“today, you are to meet with the king's advisors after you break your fast, but i doubt they should take too long. at noon, you have a lunch meeting set with the lady dower and her daughter,” you quote from memory, “and afterwards we are to swiftly get you ready for tonight's ball.”

he groans loudly, opposing this, and you smirk, your eyes trained on him as he sets his water down, sniffing as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head. you feel like a fiend, with the way you quickly avert your gaze from his toned stomach, the happy trail of hair that leads…

your eyes shoot up at him, glad that his were still screwed shut, another yawn escaping his lips as he leans his head side to side, cracking his neck.

“i’ve already met with the lady dower,” he almost whines, his nose wrinkling at the thought, “what do they want this time?”

“a ring, probably,” you mutter under your breath, but he hears, a chuckle falling past his lips as he nods along, tsking as he shrugs. he obviously doesn’t want the dower girl to be his wife, and you could only feel sorry for how tense the meetings going to be.

he picks up a cube of melon, popping it in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste. he offers the bowl to you, just as he’s always done, but you politely decline, just as you’ve always done. you may have become friendly with the prince, but there is still some semblance of protocol that you’ll force yourself to follow.

“is this chocolate?” he pipes up, looking at the tray a bit more closely, holding up the little sweet to the light.

“you’ve mentioned how much you like them, and the kitchen has been making a plethora of them for the ball, so i thought i should snag you some before they're all gone.” you explain, and he turns it around, shooting you a thankful, genuine smile. he sets it down, most likely saving it until the very last moment.

“will you be there? tonight?” he asks, filling up his glass with water once again.

“not down there with you, your highness-”

“how many times have i told you to drop the titles?” he chides playfully, cutting you off as you sigh deeply through your nose. you’re terrified of calling him by his name too many times in private, and slipping up in public, knowing just how bad it would turn out for you if that were to happen.

“not down there with you, gojo,” you say his last name with extra weight, just a little bit of sass, and he rolls his eyes, “i am to help out elsewhere.”

he nods in understanding.

“could you be down there?” he picks up a piece of watermelon, fashioned into a sphere, eating it as you sputter, brows furrowing in slight confusion as you open your mouth, shut it, and then open it again to speak.

“unless i am serving, i would not be allowed,” you explain, following behind him as he moves away from the bed, quickly making the messed up sheets as he makes room for you. you’re supposed to wait until he’s out of the room, but in your growing friendship with the prince, you find it amusing the way he flutters away.

he makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and you look behind your shoulder to see him deep in thought.

“i’ll find a way.”

“what-”

“i’ll see you later,” he exits his room, shutting himself in his bathroom as the other servants are their, waiting with his bath drawn, leaving you there to gape in silence.

—-

gojo somehow stuck to his word, finding a way for you to be near him by the time the ball arrived.

you felt overwhelmed, your senses were going hardwire at the sheer size of everything. it was one thing to be part of setting up the decorations, or to view it from afar behind a pillar, but to be part of it was something totally different.

there had been a couple balls since you first started your new position, but this happened to be the first one that you had gotten clearance for. of course, you weren’t a part of the crowd, hidden somewhere in the midst of servants and servers, but you were nearer than you’ve ever been.

they even dress you up in more fashionable servant clothes, knowing that if you were to wear your tattered uniform it would easily give it away that you weren’t one of them. you didn’t have a job for the evening other than to make sure that the prince was comfortable, so you tried everything you could not to let him out of your sight.

you found yourself searching for lydia in the crowd, but she had told you that she’d be in the kitchens, having to help out with the food they’d be sending out, and so you doubted you would be able to catch a glimpse of her amongst all the chaos that is hidden to their eyes.

the prince, despite your best efforts, kept getting drowned in by the sea of people and ball gowns. every time he twirled a girl around for a dance he was hidden by a wave of colorful fabrics, and you’d have to squint to see his white hair peeking out.

you tapped your fingers on the railing you were leaning against, trying to soak it all in while you had the chance. you had heard of the royal balls and just how extravagant they truly could be, but you never thought you’d have the chance to see one in its entirety.

“i don’t believe we’ve met,”

your head snaps to your left, eyes widening in surprise at the stranger that had somehow slithered their way next to you without noticing.

“i apologize, i didn't mean to scare you,” the man says with an apologetic laugh. you huff out a small sound, shaking your head as you bow your body a little bit, watching as he bows his head in turn.

“no apology necessary, uh, mister…?” you pause, realizing that you actually haven’t even seen his face before, let alone heard of his name.

“fushiguro,” he finishes for you, the scar on his lip quirking upwards as he settles himself on teh railing, looking down at the scene below you as he shoots you a small look, “but i’d prefer it if you’d call me toji.”

you duck your head down, smiling as you repeat your name, feeling heat pricks at the back of your neck. he’s certainly handsome, and most likely higher ranked in title with the expensive material he fills out well.

you’ve seen him around, most likely from afar. his face is familiar, and you’re sure that he’s had to have at least another one of these balls considering the fact that he’s given up mixing with the ton.

he surely has to note that what you’re wearing is on par with what the other servants and maids are, but he doesn't choose to comment.

“i’ve started a little bet with myself,” he says, his voice deep and gruff. you take a second to look him over thoroughly, noting the way his hair is messy and looks undone, black as the night. his eyes shimmer green, but turn more olive toned in the light, and he has a smile exudes an air of confidence, “would you like you partake in it?”

you smile, looking at him from the side.

“i thought they taught you better manners than to introduce yourself with a bet when you first meet a lady.”

he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes glint.

“thought i already told you my name?” he’s smooth with it, and you’re not used to this.

you don’t say anything for a second, your chest moving as you take in a necessary gulp of air. you normally try not to think too much in gojo’s flirtatious personality, because he seems to be like that with everybody he’s ever met. but this is new.

“see,” he leans in, your arms touching as you both lean a bit over the railing, and he’s lower this voice to a whisper so that nobody else can hear, “i bet that our little prince is setting his eyes on the young lady in the red dress, but i also bet that he may be mulling over the one in the green shawl.” his fingers slyly point to the two of them, and you crane your neck a bit, standing on your toes as you try to get a better look. the man, toji, isn’t incorrect in his observations. gojo has danced with miss corden almost three times at this point, and another two with miss ahura, but you remember that he only favored these two more because they tended not to step on his shoes when dancing. you suppress your smile, choosing to indulge him in his little bet.

“i say miss ahura has a better chance,” you say and he watches as gojo twirls her around on the dance floor, “her family is far more affluent and i hear that she has riches beyond comprehension in persia.”

“are you saying our prince is covetous? the sacrilege,” his voice is full of mirth and you hide your little giggle behind a gloved hand, your elbows lightly hitting his as you keep your eyes trained down below.

the waltz comes to an end, the violinists lifting their instrument off from their shoulders as they prepare for the next piece, the ladies and gentlemens who had just danced bowing to each other as they separate.

you watch for gojo, watch as he moves to the end of the floor, accepting the drink one of his companions had waiting for him as he delves into conversation. he takes a sip, nodding along to whatever it is that is being muttered in his ear.

he looks up for a second, his eyes scanning around for something. he’s careful not to attract attention to this fact, but you see him scan the entire room, the different floors, his eyes squinting as he tries to narrow his vision. he looks around for a couple more seconds, looking and looking until he finds you.

a brief and quick smile takes over his face when he finally sees your face, your own lips tugging upwards as you give him a small wave. his eyes fall to the man besides you, his smile falling as well, and toji grunts.

“are you familiar with the prince?” he asks, obviously catching this, and you gnaw on your lips in apprehension, confusion.

“barely,” you mutter, not giving him too many details, watching as gojo looks away just as quickly, as if he had never seen you and you swallow thickly, wondering what brought on his sudden change in emotions.

or why he even looked for you in the first place.

“barely doesn’t warrant the prince looking for you,” toji whispers in your ear, “‘think you know him a little better than you give yourself credit for.”

—

after the ball, gojo didn’t speak much to you when the two of you were back in his chambers.

he tended to get tired out by the end of balls, but you found yourself lonely without the endless stories he came to you with, the way he’d relive some of the events just as he was going to bed so that he wouldn’t forget them in the morning.

but he was strangely quiet right now, didn’t say anything as you helped him shrug off his coat, hanging it up in his closet as you bite your cheek, feeling some odd tension radiate off of him, something you’ve never felt before.

“did you enjoy the ball?” you asked, standing near his bed as he shuffles around, kicking off his boots as he scrunches his nose in distaste.

“it was like any other,” he says plainly, yanking his tie off as you grab it from his wordlessly, folding it up so that it wouldn’t crease.

“did you like dancing with miss ahura?” you don’t know what’s going on, why he seems so rigid, “she looked beautiful, did she not?”

he shrugs passively, not answering as he rummages around his drawers, dropping down his cufflinks in a pile with the rest of his gold ones, not knowing that a single pair of them would most likely feed you for a year.

“would you like a midnight snack? i saved some truffles for you,” you dig into your pockets, bringing some out that you had snagged from the desserts table and had wrapped in a napkin, something akin to what he used to bring you all those years ago, waiting eagerly all night to show him, “these even have some gold on them, i’ve never seen-”

“i have chefs at my disposal,” he mutters as he unbuttons his shirt, “i don’t need truffles covered in lint.”

your smile fell at the bite in his voice, the way it seemed to grip it’s claws around your lungs, squeezing the air out of them. you silently pocket the napkin.

“of course…i apologize,” there's a bitter taste in the back of your throat, catching his eyes momentarily. you see the way they shift, how his mouth parts open, and then he shuts them again.

you can feel his stare as you shove your other hand back into your other dress pocket, this one with a miniature tart that you had so carefully tried to preserve throughout the evening from breaking, and feel a heavy weight settle on your chest.

“i have your bath ready,” you point to the bathroom, ducking your head down as you bow, “i will see you in the morning, your highness.”

you left quickly, feeling foolish as you trekked down the stairs to your own room, feeling your heart slow down as you shut your door, shedding off the wretched costume that had you feeling as if you were something worthwhile for once.

—-

for a while after that night, the two of you share brief conversations, sentences kept to a minimum as you bring back the cordiality that you had begun to shed off for a while. if he noticed it, he didn’t comment on it. after some days passed, and days turned into a week and a half, he barely even looked at you, and you took it as a sign that he had tired out of the small friendship and was looking elsewhere for momentary entertainment.

tonight, you found yourself standing in the corner of his office, eyes darting around as you waited in heavy silence as his quill scratched on the parchment beneath him, dipping it in ink every now and then as he mumbled unintelligible words under his breath.

his head rests in his hands, throwing his head back in frustration at whatever it is the document is telling him.

his head falls down, his eyes slowly opening as he looks up at you.

your brow raised slightly in questioning.

“i need you,” he says, eyes widening slightly at his slip up, “i-i need your help.” he clears his throat harshly.

he ushers to the papers in front of him, and you inhale deeply, making your way from the corner that you’ve hidden yourself in as you cross the room, your steps careful as you round to his table, standing at the edge as you stay quiet.

“here,” he bites out, “come here.” he needs you next to him, and you have to control the urge to roll your eyes as you move, shuffling so that you were standing near his chair, looking down at the piece of paper that he’s been mulling over for the better half of an hour.

you look at it, mouth parting open as your brows scrunch up as you focus, trying to ignore the way his eyes were burning into the side of your face.

“i don’t understand, your highness,” you finally say, leaning away from him, “what am i supposed to be looking at?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling as he sets the paper down, leaning back in the chair.

“it’s a letter of inheritance, who gets what after the father dies,” he explains, “but the signatures don’t match up. does it seem forged to you?”

you look again, looking at the two signatures laid next to each other, the way the letters curved, which ones swooped, tilting your head, trying to see it from a different angle. the more you looked at it, the more disingenuous the signatures seemed.

“they might be,” you briefly look at him, his stare burning if you look too long, “but i’m not sure, your highness.”

his face hardens for a second, and you move away, going back to the end of the table as you bow, taking your leave to the back of the room until he speaks again. you pause, looking over your shoulder to him.

“care to look again? i have a feeling that you have a knack for schemes.” his lips are pulled back in a smile that doesn't meet his eyes, miles away from the usual smile you see from him, and if not for the benign expression, his words surely made you stumble.

“excuse me?” you bite back quickly, your nose flaring as he scoffs, shaking his head as if he expected this reaction.

“you’re shameless with it, aren’t you?” he’s alluding to something, and it’s driving you crazy. all the stares you’ve shared this past week, the silent exchange of aggravated words that grow only in size the more the two of you simmer. even when you were young, your arguments were resolved quickly.

“with what?” you snap, the accusations he’s throwing at you with no reasoning swarming your mind, clouding your judgment, your way of carrying yourself as you throw all etiquette out the window.

“i can only wonder what ploys fushiguro played out for you, but i wonder even more which ones tempted you the most?”

your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you make a sound in the back of your throat, one of shock, one of clear surprise. was all of his unspoken anger because of…him? the man you met during the ball? surely it can’t be.

you gape, the candle flickering away in the same beats your heart was going at, illuminating his stone cold face as he stands up from his chair, moving slowly to where you were. you try to stand tall, but you can’t match up to his height.

“you,” your jaw clenches, eyes searching his to see if he was joking, “you’ve been treating me like i’m, i’m,” you stutter, your chest constricting, “the shit you wipe off your shoe because you think i’m scheming with s-some man i met for the first time?”

his expression flickers for a second, as if suddenly realizing what he was saying.

“as if you don’t know who he is,” he collects himself, a sneer making its way on his face, “as if you don’t know what they’ve done to us-”

“i don’t!” you cut him off, a shocked laugh escaping your lips, “i don’t know who he is! i just thought he was being friendly!”

gojo pauses, his eyes searching yours for any traces of lies

“come on,” he scoffs, “you know how the zenin family-”

“who, who’s the zenin family?” you exclaim, watching in real time as the facade and things he’s been convincing himself of aren’t true.

“the,” he stutters, his face scrunching up in confusion, “the zenin…? how do you not know…?”

“because i’m a maid!” you shout, not caring if others behind the door could hear you yelling at their prince, “because i’ve spent my entire life working here! i keep my head down and i do what i’m told, a-and i keep to myself. forgive me for not knowing about your royal affairs, your highness!”

he’s rendered silent, lips pulled into a thin line.

“but you only care about yourself, right? the sacred prince who had everything given to him his entire life,” you continue, feeling your own pent up frustrations spewing out. you know that you’re going to lose everything after this anyways, so you don’t care about the repercussions now. you can’t bring it in yourself to care.

“you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with some unidentifiable emotion as you roll your eyes.

“i don’t? tell me, do you even remember me?” you hate that you’re losing touch of sensibility and making it personal, personal about your own feelings and how your mind can’t wrap around the fact that he simply forgot who you were or how much he affected you, “or are your cares about the people who work for you so fleeting that you barely know our names? is my replacement coming in a week, two weeks?”

“stop,” he bites out, his eyes dark, a storming brewing on the endless sea they offer, “you don’t know-”

“what i’m taking about…right?” you finish for him, “because i’m just the simple maid who you took in as your toy because you wanted to poke and prod around at her and see if she cries again? see if you could fix something for once-”

“stop,” his voice is different, and your hairs stand up because it’s not his. it’s lower in pitch, deep, commanding. you shut your mouth, fingers flying upwards, but it’s too late, you’ve said too much, and there’s no going back. this is it, you’ve finally sealed your fate.

his head falls down for a second, licking his lips as he looks at you with a look that freezes your blood. it’s not like him, and you know that this was it.

“get out,” he mutters.

“i…” you take a step back.

“get out,” his voice is thick, nostrils flaring, cheeks red with underlying emotions that are threatening to leave, “get out and never come back.”

your eyes shine with tears, tears that you refuse to shed, tears that you don’t know are for what, but you nod once, your lips trembling as you bow down to him, your last shred of respect, and turn for the door, shutting it as you run down the corridor, run for the only thing you think can save you in the moment, and don’t look back.

—

the wind is biting and unforgiving on your skin as you ride through the night.

you lean forward on the horse, hoping it can go faster as it sprints through the open field, your eyes watering as you shout for it to go.

you packed what you could, wrote your note to lydia and escaped through the stables, glad to know that louis was guarding the horses tonight, glad to know that he often drank himself to sleep.

you knew you were in too deep. you had crossed the crown prince, your ending surely wasn’t going to be good. and so call it what you will, cowardice, fear, survival, or just something you seem to have down to your roots, but you fled. you took a horse and went as far as you could, looking over your shoulder every other minute to see if anybody was running after you.

they would at some time realize that one of their horses was missing, as well as the prince's personal maid, and easily connect the dots.

it was late, and you were glad that the night was offering you the darkness and protection you needed. you could hear thunder rumbling a distance away, the clouds looking even more irate than they usually do. rain, you noted, even more protection that you desperately needed.

“please,” you plead, with what you don’t know, “please, hurry.”

the horse, as if understanding you, seems to pick up its pace, going even faster than before. your cheeks are freezing, your hands going numb from both the cold but from holding onto the reins with all your might, and the sad excuse of a cloak you have on for both warmth and concealing your face, does nothing for its intended purposes. it’s flimsy and the hood is swept by the wind, and you sniffle, tears wetting your chin as you try to compose yourself for just a bit more.

you feel an ounce of joy when you see the yellow twinge of lights from the valley below, the small town that you once used to live in coming more into focus, and feel some sense of happiness. you would camp there for the night and leave at dawn, going east, north, anywhere away from here.

or at least that was your plan until you hear the thump of hooves from behind you.

your heart drops, head whipping around as you see another horse coming in from behind you. you can’t see the rider, but you suspect more are behind them. they’re shouting something, but with the wind roaring in your ears you can’t hear anything. you turn around, whipping the reins again, leaning even more forward as let out a sound of desperation.

it’s a race to survive now, something that you won't do if you lose it, and you feel your body turning into ice, everything is going too fast.

the rider behind you is gaining speed, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they finally catch up to you. in a split moment you try to evade them, twisting the reins of your horse in one direction, not seeing the bush that was in front of you.

in another moment you’re up in the air, losing all of your feelings as you're thrown down with a harsh thud.

in the next moment, things going to black, your lids flickering as you try to stay awake, one of the last things you see being the blurry face of the rider,

and those eyes that you think about every night.

—

the next time you open your eyes it’s to a bright light.

you ground, rubbing at your face as your mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, your head ringing as you attempt to sit up, only to feel strong hands gently pushing you down.

there’s a voice, somebody speaking, but it’s all mushy in your brain, words melting together as you shake your head, trying to get the blinding light away from you. the voice grows a little bit closer, a little more clearer, and after a couple of seconds you’re able to make out what the person is saying.

“please rest, i’ll get the doctor,” the voice is familiar, and you reach out with slow fingers, trying to grab onto something, anything.

“n-no,” you murmur, your voice slurring, “no doctor.”

“you need a doctor,” the voice says firmly, “wait here.”

“no,” you say again, a little stronger, and the person stops moving, “s-stay…please,”

your fingers reach out, trying to latch onto a piece of their clothing, and instead find their hand. it’s warm, soft, and it quickly closes around your cold one, trying to warm it up.

you know this hand, know this voice.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and wonder if your voice is even something that can be heard by the human ear with the way it sounds foreign even to you, “i’m, i’m sorry about everything. about what i said.”

his hold on your hand grows tighter, his thumb moving up and down on the back of it in a soothing back as his other hands run across your forehead.

“no,” he simply says, “you don’t-”

“but i said-”

“everything that should’ve been said,” gojo finishes quickly, “but i need to go get you a doctor, check if you don’t have a concussion or worse. he checked for…other things,” he swallows thickly, not able to say what terrible words the town physician told him when they brought you into the small inn, the words that turned his skin transparent and nearly ripped the heart right out his chest, “see if you’re doing okay.”

“i don’t have a concussion,” you tell him him, finally able to blink without shooting lights and on your final squint you finally see him, sitting right next to you, his hair disheveled and face clammy, “i’ve had concussions and this isn’t a concussion.”

his brows furrow but you wave it off, sitting up so that you could rest on the head board behind you, not letting go of his hands. you’re not even sure he would let you if you wanted to, with the way he was grasping on as if his life depended on it.

you groggily rub at your face, glad that the thumping in your head is dying down, gracefully accepting the glass of water he offers you. you chug it down, feeling the droplets wet the chemise you’re wearing, but can’t find it in you to care.

you look around the room, wondering if you might actually have a concussion because you’ve never been here before, and it certainly doesn’t look like it’s part of the palace.

“we’re at an inn,” he explains as if reading your mind, “it’s the closest place i could find.”

you nod wordlessly, looking away from him because it feels raw, the emotions, the events from before, everything.

he senses your disposition and his hold on your hand loosens for a brief, flickering second. you hate the feeling.

“i shouldn’t have assumed,” he whispers, your eyes still focused on the patterns on the bed sheet, not knowing what would happen if you looked at him, “i shouldn’t have thought any of it. i just saw you and saw him and…it got in my head. it got a hold of me and for that, i’m sorry.”

your fingers curl into his hand.

“but, i, um,” he stammered, stuttering the way he used to when he was a little boy, something they surely worked on seeing how it rarely came out anymore, “i wanted you to know that i do remember.”

your head snaps up, the bed creaking at your sudden movement, your mouth slightly open in surprise.

“what?” your question is breathless, akin to the boyish, nervous, and small smile on his face. just like he used to smile when you chased him up a tree, telling him to get down or else you’d be in big trouble as if he were your responsibility.

“you used to wear a uniform that was so huge, you’d trip whenever you’d walk. you loved the fruit pies i’d bring, but you hated the ones with the pine nuts. you’d always call me ‘toru because you couldn’t say your s’s properly and you made me a doll with some fabric you found around the rooms.”

his thumb rubs on your pulse point, a melancholy smile on his face.

“you named him fru-fru,” your voice is barely above a murmur, “and you kept him on your-”

“nightstand,” he nods, “but i had to move him to my study because he was getting too fragile, i couldn’t move him too much.”

you wipe at your cheeks, sniffing as you feel a strange warmth fill your chest, filling an emptiness you didn’t know was there. his eyes shimmer, wet with tears threatening to spill, and for the first time since you met him that night, you feel like you’ve never been closer to somebody than you are now, souls interlinked together, twisting and turned as they grew with time.

all the emotions you’ve been latching onto or forcing down are coming up at once and you feel overwhelmed, not knowing how to handle them together.

“why…why did you act like you didn't know me?” you finally ask, wiping at your chin with the palm of your hand as you sniffle, “why are you telling me all this now?”

“because all this time i thought you had grown to hate me,” he mutters, “you just stopped speaking to me one day and no matter what i tried to do you never responded. i sent you letters and i visited your quarters and i even went to that scary lady,” you laugh wetly, knowing that he was referring to your old head-maid, the one that terrified him as a kid, “but they all acted as if you had forgotten about me. at some point i convinced myself that you left but when i saw you running across that field i just knew, i knew it was you.”

you shake your head, the tears coming on even harder. all those years when you had to act passive, act as if you didn't know him just so that you wouldn’t lose or jeopardize your position or life, pretending that the one friend that made your days that much brighter was a passing thought to you.

he leans in a bit, wiping at your cheeks gently with his thumb as you lean into his hand, watching as you quickly wipes at his own reddened cheeks, brows scrunching up together as you whimper.

“they f-found out,” you choke, “about us. and they knew who i w-was and who my mom was and they told me to never speak to you again,” your words come out broken, “and i left little piece of my clothes outside your door at night, ones with drawings or things i thought you’d know but every morning they would be gone. i,” you cry, your voice sputtering as you crawl closer to him, into his open arms, “i could never forget you,” your voice cracks, muffled by his chest, “you were the only f-friend i had,” he pulls you in tighter, his arms around you encaging you in a warmth that you so desperately needed. his chin rests atop your head, and you can see the way he struggles to get his own breaths out, the tears that he struggles to hide.

“don’t cry,” he pleads, begs, holding onto the last scrap of composure he had left, hating hearing your cries or seeing your tears, “please, please don’t cry,” he pulls himself away from you slightly to look at your face, to dry your cheeks as you hiccup, “you’re killing me tonight, you know that right?”

you try to laugh though it comes off as a snort, savoring the way his fingers trace your face, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, the corners of your eyes, trying to savor every bit of you as if they’ve been starved for an eternity.

“tried to run after you after what i said…” he can’t find it in himself to repeat his wretched words, “only to find you gone. you have no idea how much of a mad man i was, ordering everybody to turn each stone inside out until they found you. then that stupid stable boy kept yelling out that a horse was gone and i thought surely you wouldn’t be foolish enough to run away, ‘specially not when a storm was coming but…”

“i ran away when a storm was coming,” you finish for him with a quiet chuckle, feeling your body heating up at the way he broke into an instant smile when he heard the sound. if only you knew the things he’d do to hear it again, to see you happy would be his three wishes if he was ever asked.

“and you were going fast,” he traces your cheekbone, his words filling the large and empty room, “so, so fast. and when you fell?” he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, setting it on his heart as you feel it thumping quickly underneath your palm, “was about to take you to the doctor and tell him to give you this,” his fingers curl above yours, his forehead resting on yours, your noses breaths away from each other, “it didn’t matter to me anymore, it doesn’t work right without you.”

you feel lightheaded like you need him more than you need oxygen, your eyes falling onto his lips, not knowing that he was mirroring your exact same motions, the two of you working in tandem like a machine and its little bolts, not working without the other.

“would it perhaps be because you can’t live without the chocolates i sneak in for you?” you try to joke but it falls flat in your head, but he still huffs out a laugh, nose nudging yours as you lean in impossibly closer.

“perhaps,” he answers, his face lit by the single candle behind the two of you, “but it could also perhaps be because i love you so fucking much.”

and you whine, tired of waiting, moving the single bit you needed to connect your lips together and fall forward on his lap, your hands shooting up to his shoulders to use as much needed stability.

he groans, a sound from the back of his throat, from deep within him, his hands moving up to hold onto your waist as you move into him, kissing him with such fervor that you felt like you were going to die without feeling his lips on you.

it was so messy, the way your teeth clash against and noses bumped against each other, but it was what you so desperately needed. he was moving fast, his lips kissing against the corners of your mouth, down you chin as they found your neck, his smile growing as you throw your head back, fingering digging into his white strands as you tried to pull him in even closer.

you let out breathless sounds, sounds that you never knew you could make, but it seems to spur him on, planting wet and sloppy kisses on the column of your neck as she sucked, marking you up so that later people would know that you were his and his alone.

“gojo, i,” your eyes screw shut at the feeling of him, “feels so good,” you say breathlessly, moving closer up on his lap, feeling his hands tug at the flimsy chemise you have on, fingers slowly tugging it down, giving you time to push him off if you wanted to.

he looks up at you, his eyes needy, desperate, just as yours, and you nod, needing him to not stop.

he continues, pulling it down so that you're bare before him, nipples pebbling in the cold air as you go to cover up, suddenly realizing just what is happening, feeling shy, never like this in front of anyone before.

“we can stop,” he muttered against your lips, pressing a small peck to them, “we don’t have to do this now, we have all the time in the world,” he teases as he tugs your chemise up but you grab his wrist, stopping him as you shake your head.

“no,” you tug it down a little bit, “i’ve just,” you take in a deep breath, “just never done this before.”

he chuckles, eyes flashing darkly for just a quick second as he kisses along your jaw, leaving your skin shining in the limited light.

“good,” he murmurs, “‘cause i think i’d have to exercise my grandfather's way of handling people if somebody else saw you like this.” you laugh shortly, tugging sharply on some of his hairs as he looks up at you, eyes full of devotion that you’ve only dreamed about.

“beheading people for just seeing my tits?” you’re more crass than he is in some places, a sign of the different language you’ve heard growing up in the circumstances you’ve had, but he doesn’t care, likes it in fact.

“i’d burn down villages if anyone saw these,” he cups them in his hands, thumb flickering over your nipples as you suddenly arch into him, head falling back, “you’re so perfect,” he whispers into your skin, his lips hovering on the slope of your breasts as he takes time to admire your chest, “so beautiful,” you would’ve smacked him if not for the way he took one in his mouth, leaving you no time to think of anything else as a moan escapes your lips, the first of its kind.

“damn you gojo,” you moan, hearing his chuckle vibrate through your tits as his sucks on your nipple, tugging it with your teeth as you feel your stomach heat up, growing more and more wet as you buck up on his thigh, “you t-talk too much,” you shudder, eyes rolling back when he presses his flat tongue on your areola, his other hand massaging your other tit until he switches, leaving it glistening his his spit.

“yeah? then where do you want this mouth, hm?” he looks up at you with his eager eyes, just wanting to please you, and you feel like you’re becoming an addict, your cunt growing more and more wet as riding his thigh proves to not satiate the hunger.

“d-down,” you can’t think clearly, “please, need you so bad.”

“where?” he plays with you, pressing his hand against your stomach, “here?”

you shake your head, feeling needy and not in the mood to play around, not knowing where your sudden surge in confidence was coming from as you grab his wrist, leading it down to your cunt as you hide your face in his neck, whining.

“h-here, ‘toru, need you here,” he throws his head back, a sound coming from somewhere in his chest as his name falls from your glossy with spit lips, tugging the ends of your chemise up to your stomach as he stares at your bare pussy.

he pushes you back gently to lie on the bed, nestling between your legs as he savors the sight.

you cover your face with your hands, hearing him laugh at your expense, keeping your thighs spread wide open with his hands as he presses tantalizing kisses on the insides of them, each one closer and closer to the unbearable heat.

“wait,” you mutter, confused as to what he was doing, watching the way he snapped up, worried eyes finding your confused ones, following your stare down to his growing bulge.

“i thought…?” all the stories lydia would tell you didn’t start this way, usually beginning his the man pulling his dick out and being done in a couple of minutes, “do you not…?”

satoru breathes easy, laughing as he shakes his head, resting on his haunches as his palm rubs against your soft thighs. he looks so pretty like this, with his hair going haywire, some of it in his face, some of it messily pushed back. there’s a pink flush to hit face, his lips plump and shinning with spit.

“trust me, you have no idea how bad i want to feel you,” his eyes are so dark that you wonder if they’re even blue, “but i’m not going to do it in your condition. i don’t want to hurt you any more-”

“but,” you whine but he shakes his head, pinching your soft skin as you wince, hitting him with your knee as he rolls his eyes.

“i promise you’re going to like this,” he rubs softly against where he pinched you, smoothing the skin over, “do you trust me?”

“yes,” you mutter, watching as he breaks into a smile, “better not disappoint me though.”

“fuck, you’re such a minx,” he groans, spreading your lips open with his pointer finger, his dick aching at the sight of the string of arousal that connects them together, at the clear shine and wetness from just how much you needed him, “you’re actually going to be the death of me.”

“then hurry u-up ‘toru,” you say, “don’t die on me now,” your fingers were cutely curling in his hair, and he’d be an insane lunatic if he made you beg any more than you have, diving in as if you were actually his last meal before he died.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream, the feeling unlike anything. he sucked on your clit, moving up and down from your cunt, wanting to taste your saccharine wetness on his tongue to back up. he was so messy, so loud, and you felt like you were going to overheat, felt like everything was fogging your vision.

it felt so good. too good. his tongue dived in and out of you in a way that had you gripping his hand and the sheets under you, your leg around around his shoulders as you bucked into his open mouth, your wetness smearing all of his lips and chin as he ate you like a man starved for years.

“o-oh my god,” you mewl out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his long, swift fingers slowly pushing into you, his lips still sucking on your clit as you felt like you were actually entering heaven.

“not god,” his voice is muffled, “just ‘toru.” you would have laughed if you could, your smile instantly dropping when his finger pumps in and out.

your toes curl, leg around his shoulder pulling him in closer if that was even possible. if he were to die right now he’d had the giddiest smile on his face, happy to have you dancing around on his tongue.

everything about this was shameless and you wondered if all your good deeds were finally catching up to you.

you don’t even care if the people sleeping next to you, above you, under you, or even at this inn could hear you, because when he put in his middle finger you screamed, back arching off the bed.

“so good, fuck, ‘toru, i,” you could even form a complete sentence, “feel so good,”

“yeah?” you nod feverishly, “fuck, you taste amazing, love this so much, love you so much,” he’s babbling with his words too, his nose sometimes accidentally rubbing against your clit, bringing you all the much more pleasure.

sometimes when you look down to see him you moan helplessly, your chest heaving at the way he’d rut mindlessly into the bed, his dick hard and swollen and achy from eating you out, about the burst from just your scent alone.

your stomach tightens and you feel an unfamiliar thing deep in the pit of your body, growing taut with each swipe, each like, each kiss he would give you. it made your moans more breathy, your words less understandable, and you felt like you were slowly going to go insane, losing all sense of reality.

“‘toru, i, i don’t know,” you’re sputtering, nails raking into his hair, your free hand grabbing onto your tits, the bed sheet, his shoulders, anything to help you ground you back down to earth, “i feel, f-fuck, oh my god, i,”

“you got this sweetheart,” he encouraged you, his words honeyed, “come on, let go for me, you can do it,” his thumb which had found its way to your clit was speeding up, his tongue and fingers taking turns as they pounded into you.

you felt that rope getting together and tiger, about to snap at any moment as you whined, tears escaping from the corners of your eyes as your lips huffed out puffs of air.

“i, f-fuck, i’m ‘gonna, oh…” you whine out loud, the line snapping, your orgasm crashing through you as your mouth falls slack.

it was mind numbing, the way everything went white, the way you tightened around his fingers which were slowing down. you creamed around him, leaving his skin shiny with your release, your pussy still pulsing seconds after as you try to catch your breath, still seeing white behind your lids as your tits move up and down with each haggard breath.

he presses on last kiss to your fluttering clit, hands massaging your quivering thighs as you slowly yet surely come back down to reality, each second passing bringing you back down with him.

“good?” he teases, his smile coy as you cover your eyes with one arm, lightly pushing him with the other.

“fine,” you mutter, peeking over to see him positively glowing, a stupidly large smile on his face when he sees you finally looking at him, pressing the fattest kiss to your lips as you squeal, eyes fluttering for a second as you taste yourself on him, parting your lips mindlessly to let his tongue slither in.

you whined against his lips, fingers curling around the collar of his open tunic, pulling him closer to your naked body, feeling your tits press up against his chest, everything so perfect that you wondered if you were dreaming.

“wait,” he muttered, pulling away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together as you sit uop a little, you brows scrunched in confusion as you watch him sit up from the bed, walking over to the vanity as he rumages around the drawers for something.

he pulls out a small cloth, holding it up in victory as he grins, walking over to your nightstand as he wets it with soem water, crawling back into bed as he settles back in the middle of your thighs, gently pulling them apart as he starts cleaning you.

it’s all so intimate and so loving. you feel like melting watching his focused gaze, careful to be soft and slow, knowing that you’re a little stretched out, and pat it as best he could, cleaning around your thighs as well, throwing the cloth to the side as he climbs back up to you, pressing a loving kiss to your temple.

you shrug the rest of the chemise off, riddled with your essence and sweat, and pull the covers up, feeling the sudden chill now that satoru’s no longer eating you out like both your lives depended on it, and a silence falls over the room.

“is this a bad time to tell you about my horse laundering scheme with fushiguro?” you ask, your eyes shining mischievously as satoru whines, hiding his face in your chest as he pulls you closer to his body.

“you’re so evil,” he says against your skin.

you laugh, the sound going straight to his heart, his smile hidden.

but you fall silent and when you don’t speak he looks up, his eyes searching yours.

“what now?” you whisper, your fingers carding through his hair, feeling its softness, “i don’t…” you trail off, biting your lip as every other emotion that you had tucked away comes crawling back.

his finger finds its way to the middle of your browning, easing the crease that was forming.

“now you become my wife…if you would like to, of course…”

you search his eyes to see if he’s joking, but you only see honest sincerity in that sea of blue, his cheeks pink as he blushed.

“really?” you can barely say it without a giddy smile making its way on your face, one that he glows brightly at. if only he could bottle it, save it for when the universe collapsed and was in need of light.

“really,” he promises, holding you tightly to him, not wanting to ever let you go again, needing you next to him so that he could make sure his heart was working, to make sure that he was actually alive and that this wasn’t all a dream.

“i’ve loved you since the moment i saw you, ‘toru,” you whisper, nodding off to sleep as a yawn escapes your mouth.

“is that because i used to try to swoon you with food?” he whispers, his drowsy eyes finding yours as you sleepily giggle, kissing the tip of his nose as you curl into his heat, a smile on your face when you say the last words before you finally head off into sleep.

“perhaps.”

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euthymiya · 3 months

Text

part of me (is part of you) — ft. todoroki touya

you realize for the first time, when touya brings you home to his mother, just how much he looks like her. he realizes for the first time, when he brings you home to his mother, just how much he doesn’t look like his father

before you read: fem reader ; non quirk au + canon divergence (enji is in JAIL) ; established relationship ; touya has tattoos instead of burns (he has one burn scar on his back, though) ; rei lives in a peaceful little home of her own like she deserves ; mentions of fuyumi, natsuo, and shouto ; hints at child and domestic abuse (canon enji core) ; food as a love language

“Keep your schedule free this Friday.”

Touya doesn’t ask, just tells you like he expects it to happen. You roll your eyes, sparing him a glance as he scrolls through his phone sprawled on your couch.

“And if I’m already busy?”

“Then get un-busy,” he grumbles. Then, after a moment of consideration, adds: “you’ll enjoy it, anyway.”

“Why? Are you taking me on a fancy date?” You grin, walking over and giving his head a playful shove. He glares up at you, but lifts his head wordlessly, long enough to let you sit before he lets it fall onto your lap.

“No,” he huffs. “Keep dreaming.”

“You say that,” you tease, poking his cheek as he clicks his teeth, “but you always end up taking me.”

“Not anymore,” he swats your hand away. He pretends to go back to scrolling through his phone, but you can tell he’s not paying attention. Not with how fast his thumb swipes, too quickly to register anything on his screen.

“So what’re we doing?”

“You’ll see.”

“C’mon, Touya,” you flick his forehead, making him grunt unhappily, “you have to tell me. How else will I dress appropriately?”

“Just be yourself.”

“What if my true self is dressing up like a hooker?”

“Well, I’ll appreciate it,” he glances up, giving you a cheeky grin, “my mom might not.”

You pause.

He casually goes back to scrolling through his phone, still not really paying attention like he tries to pretend he his.

“Your mom?”

“The woman who popped me out, that’s the one.”

“We’re meeting her?”

“Well, she’s been nagging about it nonstop,” he sighs, “she wants you to meet the rest of my little siblings eventually, too. There’s no way out of it.”

He sounds irritated by the idea. Unhappy enough that your hand tangles into his hair soothingly, threading through the white strands as his lips curl into a puckered frown.

Touya doesn’t talk about his family. Not much, anyway. Sometimes he gives you short, clipped details about his childhood. Just the fond memories—the ones he hardly looks back on like they’re few and far in between.

Me and my brother Natsuo used to fight over those, he’ll tell you sometimes, when you open a bag of candy.

You sound like my sister, he’ll snort when you cry over his feet on the coffee table.

He has another younger brother too. Shoto, he slurs the name one night, drunk and too far gone to realize what he’s saying, y’know he used to be my dad’s favorite? Before the old man got himself locked up. Man, that brat gets on my nerves.

“You don’t sound too excited,” you murmur softly, running a finger along the bridge of his nose. He shrugs, refusing to look up and meet your gaze.

“S’whatever. Was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s just my mom this time around, anyway—shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I could get sick,” you offer, “from…from sushi you brought me.”

“Why does it have to be my fault,” he snorts, face breaking into a small grin, “I bring you nice things.”

“You do,” you giggle, nodding. “Then…oh! I could twist my ankle falling down the steps. Right on our way there—such a tragedy,” you huff theatrically.

“I like your bright ideas, doll,” he shakes his head, eyes glinting with amusement, “but we might as well get it over with. I already promised her.”

“You sure?” You cup his cheek, staring down at him as he finally looks up at him. Two teal, pretty little eyes staring from your lap. You’ve never gotten a face to match them too, one to show you where they come from.

He grabs your hand, fiddling with your fingers as he mumbles a quiet, “yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you nod. And then, because you can’t ignore those eyes, you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead.

He relaxes at that, grins as he murmurs, “and then we can fuck on my childhood bed, too.”

“No, Touya. Absolutely not.”

——————————

The drive to Touya’s childhood home takes a good hour. It’s not his first home—he tells you that in the car. His mother moved him and his siblings not long after his father’s trial.

She couldn’t stand being in those walls, he’d mumbled, starting his car, neither could I. The paint was ugly.

I didn’t realize you had an eye for interior design so young, you’d teased. That got a laugh out of him—enough to ease the tension in his shoulders as he drapes a hand on your thigh and starts driving.

You trace the tattoos littering the back of his hand on the way there, finger gentle and light as it maps out the ink on his skin and earns hums of approval from him every now and then.

“We’re here,” he says blandly when he finally parks. “It isn’t much. My mom couldn’t afford something as nice as the one my old man—”

“It’s nice,” you smile sweetly. You mean it. You stare at it with an awed expression as you murmur, “looks cozy.”

Touya pauses, staring at you for a moment before he lets out a shaky breath.

He can’t help but pull you into a kiss—abrupt and hard as his hand cups the back of your head and pulls you against him. “You’re something else,” he mumbles between kisses along your mouth, “you know that?”

“Are you crazy?” You gasp. You still kiss him back, regardless, making him smile smugly into you.

“Why?”

“Your mom might see through the window,” you whisper into his lips, earning a chuckle from him.

“Do you always have to worry?”

“Someone has to,” you hum, rolling your eyes as you finally pull away. You glance at the mirror to make sure your lipgloss isn’t too damaged. (It is. It’s all over Touya’s lips as evidence, too). “You’re not exactly the brightest mind.”

“Well good thing I have you to think for me so I don’t have to,” he says with a wink, sliding out of his door as he does a little jog to reach yours.

You giggle, watching as he opens your door for you and offers you a hand. “Please join me, milady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you beam, taking his hand and stepping out.

Touya spent the better half of his life brooding. Bitter. Something of a cynical guy who hated every happy couple he’d witnessed, wondered why it was like that for them and not him. Not his family. Not his parents. Maybe, if his asshole father had decided to be the husband the old man should’ve been, then he wouldn’t have to dread the idea of you meeting his family.

It feels too real this way. Feels like he has to relive it all just so you can know about it—you deserve to know about it, know about him. And you will. Someday, at least. He doesn’t know if he can handle it right now.

But you seem content with what he gives you, never asking for more than what he offers you little by little. It’s nice. It feels like maybe, in some twisted stroke of luck, maybe he can be a happy couple he used to hate so much, be so jealous of, be so bitter about.

And maybe he could be the husband his father should have been—for you.

But that’s for later. Right now, he has his mother to worry about as you both approach the front door.

“She can be a bit much,” he pauses and murmurs, “just so you know.”

“I think every guy says that about their mom,” you hum.

“You meet a lot of guys and their moms?” He asks offended, giving you a curled pout as you snort.

“No,” you roll your eyes, “quit pouting.”

“M’not pout—”

“Touya,” a voice calls softly before a woman much shorter than him is opening the door and grabbing his cheeks, pulling him down to inspect him.

“Hi mom,” he sighs, letting her study his face before she finally nods approvingly.

“You’ve been eating enough?”

“Yes.”

“Drinking enough water?”

“Yes.”

“Sleeping at normal hours?”

“Yes.”

“No more cigarettes? I mean it.”

“Yes,” he sighs in exasperation, ears burning a slight red. “No more cigarettes.”

“Good,” she nods—and then she looks over at you.

She looks just like him, you think. White hair. Soft, round face. Those pretty lashes you’re so jealous of. The only difference is that she’s missing those beautiful, warm teal eyes of his. Hers are cooler, an icy gray that makes her eyes look sharper compared to Touya’s.

He must have his father’s eyes, you think—it must be why he never looks in the mirror for too long.

“Oh,” she breathes, cupping your own cheeks, “it’s so lovely to meet you—Touya talks so much about you.”

“No I don’t,” he grumbles. “Never mentioned her.”

“Don’t listen to him,” she laughs, admiring you as she holds your face, “he’s very fond of you.”

“Am not,” he huffs. “I don’t even like her that much.”

“I’m sure,” you giggle—his face is turned to the side, the small pieces of his dignity left barely holding him together as he tries to hide his reddened cheeks from you.

His mother ushers you in, hand guiding you on the small of your back as you walk through the small hall into the living room.

It’s as cozy inside as it looks from the outside. Touya’s mother has taken great care to make this house a home. (Rei, she introduces herself. Call me Rei). You suppose it makes sense. Their first house was so far from a home, so desolate of the safeness and comfort it should have had. You don’t know the details—Touya can never talk about it long enough to offer too many.

You’ve stringed together the gist of it through the small details, though.

My old man’s in jail. Gets out sometime next year, I think, he’d said vaguely at the start of your relationship. You didn’t ask any further questions, just squeezing his hand in yours. He squeezed back with a thick swallow.

My mom couldn’t look me in the eyes for years at one point. They reminded her too much of him, he’d said on the first birthday you spent with him. He returned from the other room after a phone call with his mother, eyes hazy and distant as he recalls that small detail of his past. You kissed him extra hard that night.

Got that from my old man, he’d smiled dryly one night, when you’d traced a small burn scar running across his back, pissed him off over something. Don’t remember what. You kissed his scar that night as he slept with his back towards you, curled in your arms.

So much of Touya is foreign to you. So much is not. So much of him is kept locked away to keep him protected so no one who should love him can hurt him again.

This house, however is cozy. Homely. Safe. There are pictures everywhere. That’s the first thing you notice—Touya as a baby, as a toddler, as a young child. Touya on a bike. Touya on the swings. Touya in a pool. Touya grumpy at his high school graduation sandwiched between his two brothers, his sister beaming at the side.

His siblings are everywhere too, of course, but your eyes seem to only find him. He looks happy, you think, despite the less than happy start to his childhood. He looks happy in the few moments stolen by the camera, framed for his mother to look back on.

“You were so tiny,” you giggle, “not much has changed.”

He raises an eyebrow with an amused scoff, shaking his head as he murmurs, “not what you said the other night.”

It’s out of earshot for his mother—or so he thinks. She slaps his shoulder hard enough with a disapproving frown to make him hiss and hold a hand up in surrender.

“Touya,” she scolds, “watch that mouth of yours.”

“Jeez,” he says through a low, petulant grumble, “fine.”

“You let me know if he gives you any trouble,” Rei gives you an apologetic look. You laugh, ruffling your boyfriend’s hair as he clicks his teeth and crosses his arms.

“He’s not much trouble, actually,” you murmur gently, “I think he’s pretty great.”

He softens, face burning with a flush of pink as he looks down at his feet and grunts something under his breath. It sounds something suspiciously close to what a sap, earning an eye roll from you.

But his mother beams—eyes crinkled at the edges as she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the dinner table. There’s plates filled with your favorite dishes, home cooked and piping hot. It makes you realize Touya must have told his mother beforehand: the things you like, the things you don’t. Maybe more.

You lean up, kissing his jaw.

“What was that for?” He mumbles, watching his mother grab plates.

“Because I love you, of course,” you whisper. “I need a reason?”

“You love me, huh? Enough to consider my proposal about my bed?”

“Not that much,” you snort.

He pouts, fighting back a grin as he huffs, “you’re a stick in the mud. Love you too.”

You don’t know much about Touya’s childhood. Bits and parts of the ugliest moments are vaguely familiar to you, shattered pieces of a mosaic you can’t get a full picture of. But you smile at Rei—it feels like grabbing a smooth, unshattered piece and filling in the holes for him, filling in the gaps of love he missed out on.

You take a seat, right beside Touya, watching as his mother insists on plating your food for you. Somehow, despite it being your first time here, it feels like coming home.

This might be considered ooc idk but I write touya and rei how I want idc this is real to me in a non quirk au

#writing tag #touya x reader #dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #touya x you #dabi x you #bnha x you #mha x you #touya fluff #dabi fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff

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rottiens · 2 months

Text

PREY┊RYOMEN SUKUNA

tags. (18+). read part one here (optional), fem reader (she/her), mutual pinning, childhood friends to lovers, modern au, primal play, marking (biting), unprotected sex, he cums inside, breeding kink, lowkey exhibitionism, praising, pet names (bunny, puppy, sweet girl, good girl), spit as lubricant, clit slapping, aftercare. — wc: 2.8K

In the darkness of the forest any sound in the distance is heard as Sukuna. Your mind plays tricks on you and turns the sound of your breathing into footsteps and the distant bustle of people into voices.

Out of the corner of your eye you think you see a shadow moving around. Without leaving your hiding place you cling to the trunk of the gigantic tree and peek around the sides to check that no one is really there.

You swallow saliva to eliminate the dryness that fear has caused but you find your mouth dry and your throat uncomfortably tight and, when you pay attention to your back, you realize that the world is silent for a brief moment to allow you to hear a branch breaking under the weight of a predator.

Sukuna is nearby, he was running or walking behind you and was going to catch you if it weren't for the dry leaves that give him away. You flee from your hiding place like a slippery rabbit, being careless in your steps and alerting your pursuer to where you are headed, you run in a straight line, hitting branches and small bushes that cross your path. You no longer cared about being discreet, he is close and you need to put distance between you as fast as you can.

As you move deeper into the large trees their canopies cover the sky more and more. You realize you are so far away from the city that you barely hear the festival which makes you feel uneasy and fearful.

You could give up and let him win, yet there is an insistence inside you that pinches you to keep running regardless of the discomfort of your non-running shoes.

"Do you want to keep running, little bunny?" you suddenly hear from behind a tree, you look in all directions in the gloom and your eyesight tires as you try to search for a body in the dim presence of light.

Sukuna could be anywhere.

"I can smell you, you know?" his deep voice is an echo in the abyss of darkness. So you cling to the tree, your nails digging into the wood trying to hold on to something tangible to help you stay in the present, to pay attention to your senses and focus. Though you didn't understand what he meant by what he had said. "I can smell you..." he repeats, closer this time and it's as if you feel his presence above you like a suffocating thick aura, you're frozen in that moment. "Your fear, your excitement. I'm going to find you and it's okay, you can admit you want me to catch you, I know you're anxious to know what will happen when I do..."

It was only a matter of time before he caught up with you, you knew it, you hear his voice closer and closer so your survival instincts lead you to the last logical reason for that moment: you have to climb the tree.

"Why don't you be a good girl and come out? You're making it so easy for me."

You hear his words before you can feel him, blowing hot air on the back of your neck as his claws drag you away from the tree pulling at your waist. You scream trying to struggle against him but any tantrum you can muster becomes insignificant in his presence, his stronger arms cover yours and your kicking feet are suspended in the air and in one sudden movement you both fall to the ground.

Your body kisses the earth with little delicacy in a rumble, you don't feel the sting of the stones from the amount of adrenaline coursing through your blood as Sukuna continues to sink his weight on you. There are branches and leaves in your hair and caught in your clothes (now dirty with mud), after a while of struggling in vain you convince yourself that he really has you. Just like when you were children, just like when you struggled until you had no strength and Sukuna only teased you... he re-enacts the scene.

Your hands are trapped painfully on your lower back as he pulls his body closer to you, his face lowered to your neck, his voice hoarse and broken from the chase mixed with adrenaline.

"Gotcha," he teases.

You swallow your pride and drop your face to the ground to rest, your cheek sinking thanks to the tiny stones and at the same time you are grateful for the coolness they bring which manages to soothe your burning a little.

"What do you want?" You were referring to his prize.

Sukuna's throat makes a sound you can only categorize as a growl. He almost sounds like an animal, while you close your eyes and enjoy the sting of his grip on your wrists.

Sukuna struggles to be sincere or hold back, alternately squeezing and releasing your hands to release pressure, he swallows before responding.

"I want to mark you. That's my prize."

"Mark me?" You repeat the words, confused. Choosing to ignore what his words really denote.

You are aware that this is not what you would do with any of your friends. By this point you would have stood up, you would have shaken the leaves out of your pants and laughed at the scream you gave when he caught you however this was not what you wanted, you needed to know what his limit was, what yours was.

"I want to bite you. Mark my teeth into your skin, I want people to ask you about it and tell them what a sore loser you are."

Sukuna snorts hotly at your neck, a puff of air exhaling self-control (which hangs by a thread). You force yourself not to thrust your hips into him and instead you give him your throat like the good loser you are. You tilt your neck sideways, showing him the soft skin to mark.

"Tell me if I'm being too rough," Sukuna manages to mumble, before closing his eyes and sinking his teeth into the area in the middle of your shoulder and neck without wasting any time.

You groan involuntarily at the sensation, he pushes his hips hard against you dragging your body a little under his weight. It's the first time you realize he is enjoying this as much as you are.

It's at that point you wish you had your hands free to pull on his pink strands and push him into you.

"Harder," you ask as you realize he wasn't biting you, his mouth was hovering above your skin, showing you only the feel of his teeth.

You swear you can hear him curse with the next growl that vibrates his vocal cords and without wasting any time he digs his teeth into you until it hurts, you gasp, being absolutely certain that it would leave a mark that would remain on your skin for about two, three more days.

The area that has been bitten burns, you feel it throbbing under the tender kisses he gives your injured skin and it is as if he is trying to make it feel better.

Your pants become uncomfortable, as does the posture of your hands which begin to feel ants scurrying around them and uncomfortable as your sticky panties sink annoyingly into your slit with every involuntary movement of your thighs or hips.

His lips are soft with each new kiss, carrying butterflies in your stomach and a little lower each time you feel the piercing in his lip tingle on your skin. Sukuna occasionally uses his tongue in swirls until the burning sensation is less intense than the flares that seem to burn your skin.

Sukuna pushes against you again, his erection restrained against the tight jeans feels annoying. I'd like to rip them into a thousand pieces, I'd like to rip your shirt into a thousand pieces, is all he thinks about— marking your collarbones and following the stroke across your breasts and tender nipples.

Your bodies begin to rock against each other, at first it could be interpreted as him fixing the grip of your wrists on your back but soon the friction doesn't feel so innocent. Sukuna is increasingly rubbing harder and harder, a little more needy while you on the other hand find yourself playing along by raising your hips in search of feeling something more.

However the pleasure is static, Sukuna realizes this will go nowhere when his cock starts to ache and frustration makes him moan.

"I need to take you," Sukuna speaks, finally breaking the silence.

"Do it." You reply almost immediately in a raspy voice, choking on another inhale.

He seems to regain that confident, assured personality you seemed to have forgotten, very caught up in the moment. Sukuna chuckles.

"Here? In the forest? Are you sure?"

No, you weren't. You were in the middle of nowhere, darkness surrounding you from every corner not knowing who might be lurking from afar but if he didn't touch you you were sure you were going to explode and his heat, the hardness of his body pressing against yours, his defined abdomen sweaty, sticking to your back and the hardness of his cock in your ass were all that mattered now.

"Yes," you say dryly, catching a moan between your teeth and lower lip.

"Ask me."

"Take me. Fuck me, I— I couldn't be more sure."

Sukuna doesn't make you beg anymore. He just needed to hear you be sure you wanted this as much as he did.

Then he lets go of your hands finally which take a moment to realize they are free and that there is blood running in them again to bring them to each side of your trembling body. His languid fingers are on the button of your pants pulling it halfway down along with your panties and almost immediately you feel his fingers plunge into the wetness of your pussy.

You both moan in unison. Three of his fingers explore the expanse of your folds up and down as you raise your hips to give him more access to your core and your face gets a little more lost inside the stones that now feel almost non-existent, any pain is overtaken by pleasure.

His rough fingers stumble over your clit and play with it for a while, back and forth and up and down with a flat hand until your arousal spills down your thighs and makes a mess that manages to be heard like a wet echo in the abyss of silence.

"Can you hear that?" Sukuna asks lewdly, more to himself really. With his free hand he spreads your ass cheek apart to get a better view of the poor sight the moon was giving him of your pussy. "Hm?" He again insists and not content with the amount of lubrication naturally produced by your body, he spits directly into your pussy taking you by surprise. "I'm going to put them inside..." he warns you, almost without giving you time to process his words, two fingers find themselves forcing their way inside you, scissoring inside your tight hole until you feel it relax enough to take a third. "Fuck. You're so tight."

You wanted to reproach him that it was because his fingers were too thick and maybe it was because he was fucking you with three of them but the words were cut into little pieces as you felt your orgasm hit you without warning.

Your body jerks under his expert touch as his fingers continue to massage you through the waves of pleasure and his free hand pampers your back up and down.

You moan as you feel his fingers leave you, your painfully empty and sensitive pussy waits patiently as Sukuna undoes his belt and jeans down to his thighs. You hear him unzip and fix his posture behind your back. You were ready, waiting with your heart beating fast for him when he takes your hand and pulls it behind you in his direction, you stutter his name.

"Put it in." Sukuna commands. You say his name again, each syllable melting in your parched throat. Each time you call his name it seems as if a stream of pleasure hits your clit. Your fingers curl around the shaft and immediately you feel it throbbing. At that moment you hate being in the dark because you want to see him, to see his expression, to see his cock slowly slide into you and stretch you. "Put my cock in, sweet girl. There you go," he praises you sweetly, a contrast to the person he was a couple of minutes ago.

The fat head stretches your hole tentatively as Sukuna spits a second time. With another thrust from you and with the help of your hips moving back he slides easily and slowly into you, allowing you to appreciate every inch until Sukuna bottoms out and you let him go to fix your posture on the bed of rocks and leave him while he begins to pound you.

His hips are heavy every time he thrusts inside you, pounding your ass intensely as his fingers aimlessly snake up your thighs until he reaches your plump and sensitive clit, Sukuna nips it between his knuckles then slaps it a couple of times laughing when he hears you moan and finally stimulating it in circles.

Sukuna crawls along the length of your back to press his body to yours, his mouth is on top of his bite where he leaves a kiss before murmuring in your ear, "Can I cum inside?" your body responds physically, your swollen nipples inside your t-shirt ache, your pussy squeezes around his heavy dick. "Are you going to let me mark this pussy too? As part of my prize, hm?" You stammer an intelligible reply to what he grumpily responds by patting your tender clit to get your attention. "Focus. You want my cum in your pussy? You want me to breed you? But you have to be a good girl and take every last drop... It's a yes or no question, puppy. Use your words."

"Yes, please! Yes."

How could you tell him that was all you could think about? That it was all you could think about since you realized you were in love with him? Even though you didn't have to say it now, Sukuna knew. So your few words were enough to make him understand that you needed this as much as he did. So within a few more thrusts you feel him jerking inside you, choking his grunts into your neck as he massages your clit helping you climax soon after.

Breathless and gasping for air, his cum sliding out of you, he lets himself fall beside you though he regrets it when the stones hurt his back and he whimpers, you laugh and he helps you closer to him, squeezing you to his body as if he never wants to let go.

As you breathe in silence his heart stops being a violent drum to return to a quiet melody, similar to yours which unlike him is still somewhat unrestrained thanks to his gentle touch on your forearm and back and sudden kisses on your hairline that carry tickles all over your back.

With the sky above your heads showing you a million stars that look like polka dots, with the cool breeze biting your skin, making you shiver every now and then against his body— your eyelids start to give way from his constant pampering.

"I like you," Sukuna admits, interrupting the silence, his confession laden with raw sincerity, and though his words come with his trademark calmness and assurance, his heartbeat says something different. "This... it wasn't just about fucking you," he adds.

"I like you too. I thought it was obvious," you confess a little sheepishly. Ironic, after the events that recently transpired. Although it was always harder to bare your soul than to bare your body.

"I mean, it was but I was also afraid I was imagining things," with a low chuckle, sukuna pulls you closer to his body.

You lean in to look at him, for a moment he purposely ignores you until he decides to return your gaze and silently cup your cheeks. His fingers push your skin until your lips stand out in an exaggerated pout and he moves in to leave a quick kiss which you catch and deepen, tasting his lips for the first time, melting at the sensations of having him suck and bite your bottom lip.

"Do you want to go back to the festival?" Sukuna asks, in a somewhat sleepy voice.

"Let's go back to my place."

#wr #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen smut #cw primal play #cw marking #cw breeding #cw exhibitionism

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verstappen-cult · 9 months

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 imagine #social media au #charles leclerc #f1 grid x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc fluff

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solaireverie · 10 months

Text

f1 | i'd be the man

summary: [ drabbles ] you're the formula one driver and he's your wag. (aka the toto wolff-ification of the fast car boys)

warnings: mentions of racism and sexism

author's note: i had so much fun coming up with non-f1 jobs 😂 i'm convinced that most of the boys would still be obsessed with f1. considering doing this for other drivers, drop some suggestions? 👀

→ CHARLES LECLERC

Charles is a fashion designer who works for one of your sponsors. You find his designs slightly... peculiar and aren't afraid to tell him. Determined to prove you wrong about his vision, Charles volunteers to be your primary point of contact for your partnership with the fashion house.

Your meetings are contentious in the beginning, neither of you understanding the other. You leave each consultation with a throbbing migraine and a barely suppressed urge to throw something at Charles. If only he weren't so damned stubborn. (At the same time, you know that his passion for his craft is half of why you even deign to meet with him.)

A grudging respect forms between you after months of friction and endless banter about what exactly you want your sponsorship to look like. If hard-pressed, you might even call it a friendship.

Charles has been a Formula 1 fan since childhood and is secretly a fan of yours. You find out after you meet him for a design meeting after a rough race and he suddenly goes on a rant about how the driver who took you out was being ridiculous and how you deserved better. You're completely charmed and interrupt him by asking him out on a date.

He's the absolute best boyfriend that you could ever ask for, following you to all the European races and supporting you from Monaco when he can't make it. Charles delights in being able to provide a bit of stability for you in your hectic life. He puts up photos of your race wins in his studio and proudly tells all of his clients about his girlfriend and her achievements.

(You still won't listen to his fashion advice, though.)

→ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max runs the cat shelter that you adopt your cat from. You notice how cute he is the first time you meet him but you're too shy to make a move — besides, Max cherishes his quiet life and you don't know how open he would be to associating with a public figure like a Formula 1 driver. Still, he's funny and kind and you somehow keep talking.

It starts out innocuously, just pictures and updates about your new cat (because Max cares about all of the cats that he's ever taken care of, even the ones that have been adopted into good homes) and occasional behind-the-scenes updates when you find out that Max likes Formula 1.

Without realizing it, Max becomes one of your closest friends. He catsits for you when you're out of the country for races, picks you up from the airport after international races, and cheerfully beats you at sim racing whenever you have the opportunity to game together.

Max realizes that you're basically dating around a year into your friendship. You sleep at his place, in his bed, more often than not. Sassy likes you more than she likes him. You have his coffee order memorized and he knows your parents. (Your mother adores him and constantly encourages you to make a move.)

He's patient, however, and waits for you to realize your own feelings as well. Dating comes as naturally for you as your friendship did. Although Max doesn't always enjoy the media scrutiny that comes with dating a Formula 1 driver, he takes full advantage of the attention to defend you at any given chance.

In fact, you've been asked multiple times by your team principal to get your boyfriend to calm down before he offends another driver, but you wouldn't change Max for the world.

→ LANDO NORRIS

Lando is a Twitch streamer with a decent following who specializes in gaming, especially e-motorsports. He gets the chance to visit your team's garage when he wins a e-sport tournament. He's an unabashed simp fan and immediately makes a fool of himself when he meets you, but you find it adorable.

(Lando swears up and down to anyone who'll listen that he didn't mean to blush and accidentally propose on the spot.)

You cheekily tell him to take you out on a date first and he surprisingly gets his act together and actually follows through. Lando is incredibly kind and clumsily charming despite his awkward exterior. You can tell that he genuinely likes spending time with you and wants to hear what you have to say.

Lando switches to Youtube and vlogging when your relationship stabilizes so he can spend more time with you. His fans — and yours — love catching glimpses of his elusive Formula 1 driver girlfriend in his videos. It's a running joke among his fans that Lando is your sugar baby, which Lando finds extremely funny and shamelessly accepts.

Eventually, both of you realize that you've found the love of your life and you start thinking about marriage. You propose to each other at the same time, on the vacation that you each planned for the other, while your mutual friends who knew about both sides die of laughter from the sidelines.

Lando insists on taking your name as well and declares that he's now officially your trophy husband.

("Get it? You get trophies from your job, which brought us together, so technically I'm a trophy now too?" "Yes, Lando, I understand double entendres perfectly well." "Ooooh French, fancy!")

→ LEWIS HAMILTON

You meet Lewis in your childhood. He karts at the same track as you and you bond over the shared experience of being "other" from the other drivers. No one ever bets on either of you to be fast, to win, so you bet on each other. Lewis supports you with his entire being, even when he chooses to leave racing to chase other dreams. You dreamed of reaching Formula 1 together but Lewis, in this world, is happy cheering from the paddock.

Everyone around you is convinced that you're dating Lewis, who has become a highly successful model and philanthropist. Who else would would take time out of their insanely busy life to follow you around the world? The closeness between you doesn't help either — Lewis acts like your partner more often than not.

Despite appearances, however, Lewis is just your best friend, and it stays that way until a PR disaster with your respective relationships calls for extensive damage control. The best distraction that your media teams can come up with is that you fake-date each other: what better to appease the masses with than the ever-beloved tale of childhood friends to lovers?

The fake relationship changes something in your previously stable friendship. Suddenly, you can't stop seeing Lewis in a different light and you find yourself wishing that the romance was real. You're terrified of losing one of the most important people in your life, so you keep quiet about your true feelings for months as things calm down.

Eventually, your manager gives the all-clear to end the ruse and you end up scrambling for a reason to maintain it. By that time, Lewis has caught on to you. He stops by one night with a bottle of wine and your favorite movie. As the credits play, he leans over and kisses you softly — the first time he's kissed you out of the eye of the public.

You're lost for words and he quietly assures you that no matter what happens if you pursue a real relationship, he'll always be your Lewis.

Ten years later, happily married with a couple of championships under your belt, you couldn't be happier that you had chosen to say "hi" to the boy at the karting track.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii

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ssweetreveries · 1 month

Text

in for a ride!

✩ san x reader

. 18+ mdni!

. word count! 1.4k

{oneshot, smut, nonidol!san, softdom!san, afab!reader, sub!reader, pet names, vaginal fingering, they’re in public, fluff}

a.n i apologize if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proof read and english isn’t my first language, please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

synopsis . in which your boyfriend takes you on a date to an amusement park and let’s just say, you’re in for a ride! ;)

A few days ago, your boyfriend heard you talking on the phone with your friend, overhearing something about you wanting to go to an amusement park. And that’s why San decided to surprise you today by taking you on a date.

In the car, you couldn’t help but fiddle nervously with your fingers and the hem of your sundress. You had no idea where he was taking you, his only directives being to get ready because he was taking you on a date.

San grabs your fiddling hand in his, he glances at you quickly before re-focusing on the road. “Why are you so nervous, baby?” he asks with a chuckle.

“I don’t know where we’re going, can you blame me?” you pout at him.

He squeezes your hand gently, “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about, you’re gonna love it.”

You hum and interlock your fingers with his. Your nerves slowly getting replaced by excitement.

Your head turns to gape at San when he turns into the parking lot to the amusement park. “Sannie?” you say amusedly.

“Hmm?” he hums with a smile, pulling into a parking spot. Once he stops the engine, he turns to face you. “Like it, princess?”

You nod with a grin, “but, how did you know I’ve been wanting to come here–”

He simply shrugs. “I’ve got my ways, c’mon now” he says before exiting the vehicle, running to the passenger side to open the door for you. He does this every single time, and you just can’t help but let out a giggle.

You take his helping hand and step out of the car, looking at the park entrance with stars in your eyes, not noticing San looking at you the exact same way.

“C’mon, baby, let’s go have fun” he cooes, taking your hand gently in his and pulling you along.

You smile letting him pull you along with a dumb smile on your face, the place taking you back to your childhood, making you feel like a kid again.

Upon arriving at the entrance, San pays for both of your wristbands even going out of his way to buy the fast pass, so you guys don’t have to wait in line. When the staff lets you in the park, you immediately turn to San, looking up at him with a big smile. He chuckles, “What’s up, princess”

You jump in his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Sannie. For this.” you tell him genuinely.

He kisses the top of your head, “Of course, – where do you wanna start?” He asks you with a beautiful smile of his own.

San didn’t want to be controlling but after a couple rides he really started regretting not telling you more specific directives on how to get dressed for today. Don’t get him wrong, you looked absolutely ravishing in your outfit but every time you guys would ride a roller coaster, your little sundress would blow in the wind. And every time, he would put his hand on your thighs and make it his sole mission to hold it down until the ride was over. On the other hand you were oblivious to this, thinking he was just being overly clingy and affectionate.

“Let’s go do that one!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at yet another roller coaster.

“Mmm,” San hums with a frown.

You look up at him, a frown of your own now decorating your features. “Sannie, what’s wrong?”

He smiles awkwardly, “Baby, can we do something else? How about we try one of those carnival games?”

You pout, “but why– I wanted to do more rides..”

He pulls you close, bending to your level. “You do realize that all day, you’ve been almost flashing those cute little panties you have on to everyone,” he groans in your ear.

You pull back from him, a blush coating your cheeks. “W-what?”

“You heard me, princess. Should’ve worn something else, now all I want to do is take you back home.” He purrs.

With pink cheeks, you cross your arms as you look up at him. “How was I supposed to know you were bringing me here!”

He sighs softly, “I know, sorry, princess. Do you mind doing a ride that will make me worry less about our surroundings, hmm?”

You nod and think about what you guys could do instead, an idea popping in your head. “How about the spinning apples? Is that okay, Sannie?” you ask him with pretty eyes.

San smiles, “sure, we can do that, princess.”

You grin, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him with you.

With your fast passes, you guys didn’t have to wait, being let in on the next round. You hop in first, San standing behind you as you climb in the apple, just in case.

When you guys are both settled in, the staff passes by everyone and closes the apple’s entrances. San wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. He smiles and drops a quick peck to your lips, the ride starting to spin you guys around shortly after.

His arm leaves you as you both spin the table, making the ride even more dizzier than it already is.

“San!” you yelp, the ride pushing you flush against him. “You’re going too fast!” you giggle.

He mutters a quick ‘sorry’, slowing down the spinning while laughing. One of his arms leaves the table, finding its resting spot on you, massaging your thigh.

He looks back at you holding on to him with a smile. His other hand leaves the table, cupping your cheek and he leans in to give you another kiss, leaving the ride to spin by itself. You smile against his mouth, returning the kiss.

San tilts his head, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in. You're taken aback by his neediness, pulling a way with flushed cheeks.

“Sorry baby, you look so cute in that dress, couldn’t help myself” he says sheepishly, running his hand up and down your thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to your heat.

Your breath hitches, “Sannie–”

“Been wanting to do this all day, baby, will you let me?” he looks at you with those eyes of his that he knows you can’t resist.

You nod shyly, feeling yourself getting heated.

He smiles, hand cupping your clothed pussy, “You’ll have to give it to me quick, okay princess?”

You hum, feeling needier by the second. “Y-yeah, please–Ah!” your hand snaps over your mouth as he pushes your panties aside, shoving his fingers into your wet hole without warning.

He smirks, feeling your wetness, “Fuck, princess, guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted this, hmm?”

You whine, embarrassedly trying to hold back your moans while he works his fingers inside you.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be shy.” he purrs, “scream all you want, no one will notice here.” he says, removing your hand covering your mouth.

“A-ah, fuck– Sannie!” you scream out.

He was right, all the screaming outside would drown out your moans. You had momentarily forgotten that you were in the ride, San’s fingers distracting you. You gasp, heart pounding at the fact that the ride could stop at any given moment. “I can’t do it, Sannie-!” you whimper.

He presses his lips to yours, “yes you can, baby” he says against your mouth.

He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circular motions all the while still fingering your sweet cunt.

You moan out at the added stimulation, “f-fuck, Sannie!”

“Is that better, princess?” he rasps out, feeling himself getting hard from watching your fucked expression.

“Y-yeah, ah! I'm so close, Sannie–!” you cry out, legs starting to feel weak.

“Yeah? Give it to me, princess” San increases the speed of his fingers, kissing you deeply while abusing your needy cunt.

He can feel your tight walls clenching desperately around his fingers as your body begins shaking uncontrollably. You moan into the kiss, gripping San’s arm with your hand as you cum hard all around his slender fingers.

He continues moving his fingers at a now, slower pace, helping you ride out your high.

“San, that was crazy,” you breath out, feeling dazed. “I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever came.” you mutter, hiding your face in the palms of your hands.

San chuckles and pulls his fingers out of you, dropping a kiss to your mouth. “You did so good, princess.”

As on cue, the ride starts to slow down and you look at him with a panicked expression. “Do I look okay?” you quickly ask.

San pats your head, fixing your hair a bit, “well, you look like you were in for a ride..” he laughs softly.

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tom-whore-dleston · 7 months

Text

Denial and Devotion

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 880

This fic contains: preludes to smut, implied smut, amnesia, mentions of squirting and fingering, reader was a Soldier Boy fangirl (like me fr xD), toxic celebrity culture?

Summary: You are in denial that you slept with the Supe you used to crush on.

Notes: I'm just a girl that writes Soldier Boy fanfic at 2am knowing damn well I have work at 9am flksdghk this gif replays in my brain every waking moment of the day I literally hate how hot he is >:( This is my weekly contribution to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt no. 241: Hour of Denial

The moment you rose from your slumber, you knew something was wrong. First off, you woke up in a room that you did not recognize. Then, you realized the cotton sheets of the unfamiliar bed clung close to your bare skin as if you had slept in it before.

You attempted to lift yourself out the bed, but your muscles were weak, soreness more prominent in your hips and thighs. As you winced in discomfort, your eyes widened upon the discolored love bites scattered over your body. Your eyes finally glanced to the opposite side of the bed, only to discover the person occupying it was none other than Soldier Boy.

When you were younger, Soldier Boy was your first crush. At the time, he was presumed dead, but your father would tell you stories about how he was one of the greatest superheroes to ever live. Your childhood room was covered in Soldier Boy posters and you had a doll of him that never left the box. As you got older, you conducted more research on the man you worshiped, but eventually learned that he was a monster in a superhero costume. As a result, you ripped the posters to shreds and finessed some cash off the doll in hopes to erase any trace of your Soldier Boy phase.

You stared in disbelief at the same man that lay peacefully asleep. Your mind raced with questions. The only logical answer to all of them was that you were dreaming. To test the theory, you pinched your forearm as hard as you could. After cursing from the pain, you tried another method by poking Soldier Boy in his meaty bicep. Without fluttering his eyes open, he grunted in annoyance and rolled over.

If your head wasn’t already spinning, it definitely was at this very moment. You slithered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping man, and frantically searched for your clothes. In a hurried attempt, you shimmied back into your little black dress from the night before. Regardless of whether this was all a dream or not, you silently vowed that you are remaining sober for the rest of the month.

“Where you going so fast, sweetheart?” You turned toward the groggy voice that belonged to Soldier Boy, who was propped up against the bed frame with his muscular torso in view. It felt as if no time had passed since the beginning stages of your devotion to Soldier Boy. Your eyes scanned over his physique with a hunger that only he could satisfy. Heat radiated your body and you stood paralyzed in your unzipped dress, leaving enough uncovered for his imagination to run wild.

As Soldier Boy hopped out of bed, you swiftly turned away as his thick cock unveiled from the thin sheets. He began walking towards you, but you ignored him by fiddling with the zipper on your back. You grew frustrated with the zipper’s defiance the closer the beefy supe inched towards you. His intense stare begged for your attention until he took matters into his own hands by lifting your chin up to his gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest as his green eyes studied your face. Except there was no studying necessary.

“I’m a little embarrassed by this,” you laughed nervously, “but I don’t remember anything from last night.”

Soldier Boy smirked. “Want me to give you a reminder?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” You paused. You may not have been as infatuated with the supe as much as you once were, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. “I mean…I’m sure last night was great but I shouldn’t impose-“

“Great? Well if you define squirting on my fingers and cock until you begged me to stop as great then maybe I gotta fuck you harder.”

You were about to let out a moan, but quickly masked it with a sigh. Every part of you wanted to hate him but the ache in between your legs betrayed your voice of reason.

“You can play the ex-fangirl game all you want, but you and I know you never truly get over your first crush.” There wasn’t a more pathetic feeling than regressing back into that naive girl who treated a flawed superhero like a god.

Suddenly, your back hit the wall and Soldier Boy towered over you, his arm the only thing keeping him from pressing you against the wall to grind into your core. His free hand hooked under the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it off your shoulder. As the dress pooled around your feet, he lightly kissed the crook of your neck, electricity coursing your blood as his beard pricked your skin.

His hot breath fanned over your ear. “There’s no need to deny me anymore, sweetheart. I’m here for you to worship and fulfill all your pretty little fantasies.”

Fuck it.

All your common sense flew out the window as you desperately smashed your lips against his. Gripping your wrists, he pinned you against the wall before grinding his semi hard cock against your wet pussy.

Soldier Boy may have been the biggest pain in your ass, literally and figuratively, but he was right about you never fully recovering from your first crush.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

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hellbornsworld · 7 months

Text

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS-11

🎀 Angel Eyes by @bunnyhugs77 - OneShot

Pairing: Patient! Jungkook x Reader

"You're such a bad influence, y'know? I can't believe you really almost made me do that." His bunny-like smile is on display when he speaks, "That wasn't me, that was your instinct. For a brief second, you just listened to your heart."

🎀 Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon had realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did. It was a twin thing.

🎀 SNOW IMPRINTS by @2hightocare - OneShot

Paring: DILF!JK X Reader

What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

🎀 Peach. by @hongjoongscafe - OneShot

Pairing: Professor!jungkook X Camgirl!reader

where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

🎀 slow dancing by @yoonia - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x reader / Namjoon x reader

When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

🎀 Magic Shop by @jungkookiebus - OneShot

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader

you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

🎀 bewitched by @jkabbi - Series

pairing: jungkook x reader

Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.

🎀 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 by @pennyellee - OneShot

pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader

You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

🎀 nepenthe by @lively-potter - OneShot

Pairing: CEO!JK X Reader

in which solaris celeste vesper, a sad girl with an unfortunate upbringing meets a man far older than her and, within his presence, her sorrow fades into nothingness.

Also in which jeon jungkook finds the sun he so desperately needed in his life.

🎀 PREDESTINED by @keen-li - OneShot

Pairing: Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader

"You shouldn't be here" you say with a smile. Legally he shouldn't be here but personally you're glad he's here.

🎀 SX Seoul by lo1k-diamonds - TwoShot

PAIRING: Jungkook X Reader

You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

🎀 oxygen by @gimmethatagustd - OneShot

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader

If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

🎀 ALL AT ONCE by @muniimyg - Series

pairings: unhinged jungkook + shy oc

jungkook confesses and you're in denial

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪ ♫♬♪

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thelonelyshore-if · 9 months

Text

Meet me at the cabin. Please.

You weren’t sure what to make of it. A cryptic late night text sent from your younger sibling, begging you to meet up at your family’s old lake home. The plea for help was as concerning as it was confusing. As far as you knew, neither of you had set foot in the cabin in a decade. You had your hesitations, but Willow seemed desperate. You couldn’t help but oblige.

Everything goes downhill fast when Willow's research into childhood ghost stories lands you in a town that doesn't exist. A town where people go missing at an alarming rate, where things that aren't quite human run businesses with hungry eyes, where time runs differently.

A town you can't leave.

Something about Easthaven is wrong. A supernatural fog permeates the town, so thick you could choke…but you’re one of the only people who seems to notice it. You’re quick to realize the fog keeps the residents ignorant, keeps them passive, keeps them trapped. When people who have long since gone missing start coming back home, you realize Easthaven’s mysteries go deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Explore the magic and the horrors of the small town of Easthaven, team up with the few others who can see through the fog, and do everything you can to make your way back home.

The Lonely Shore is an 18+ supernatural horror story (and mystery) inspired by works such as Midnight Mass, The Mist, Scarlet Hollow, and Gravity Falls. A story about how sometimes places can feel like people, how easy it is to do terrible things for those we love, and how small towns have a way of eating you alive.

FEATURES:

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; trans or cis. Choose up to two sets of pronouns or input your own. Customize your appearance and develop your personality throughout the game.

Romance or befriend a cast of characters. Options for ace and aro routes, as well as three polyamorous paths.

Customize Willow, your younger sibling. Select their gender and determine what your relationship with them is. Will you rebuild a broken relationship? Or let a good one go down in flames?

Explore the world of Easthaven, a town that exists outside of time, separated completely from the rest of the world. A place where tragedy is mundane and death is around every corner. Encounter the Fog, the source of all of Easthaven’s horrors.

Build up to one of five distinct magic styles as your character comes to life; including necromancy, clairvoyance, manipulating the Fog, becoming something monstrous–or suppressing your magic instead, having it come out in uncontrollable bursts.

Solve the mystery of the Returned: citizens who have been missing for months, years, decades but who have recently started coming back home.

CHARACTERS:

Jaylen 'Jay' Jones (M/F)

A veterinarian-in-training and member of the town's Search & Rescue team who has seen Easthaven's horrors firsthand. A kindhearted but wary person who cares more about keeping people safe than they do about solving the town's mysteries. They're tired of losing people.

Yasmin Bakir-King (F)

The local librarian, a fiercely clever widow with very little patience for nonsense. Very outgoing, she's one of the most well-known figures in town. She starts the story unaware of Easthaven's dangers but very quickly gets thrust into the middle of the town's latest mystery.

Amir/Amara "Croft" (M/F)

A reclusive, ill-tempered horror author who just so happens to be the town's latest newcomer…until you show up. Croft came to town with their share of secrets, and there's nothing in the world they want more than to escape Easthaven.

Beck Dawn (genderfluid)

Fun-loving and reckless, Beck is an adrenaline junkie who can't seem to stay out of danger…despite being completely unaware of the town's secrets. A magnet for trouble, it's no surprise Beck lands right in the middle of Easthaven's latest mystery.

Ravi Singh (M)

Easthaven's local mortician. Ravi is easygoing and quick to laugh; though sometimes his humor leans towards the macabre. But his easy smiles don't cover up his almost chilling comfort with the Fog; nor do they get rid of the pile of skeletons in his closet.

Perri Loveless (M/F/NB)

Runs one of Easthaven's three radio stations. In the day they play music, and at night they host a supernatural-themed call in radio show, The Lonely Shore. Perri is an enthusiastic (if a bit awkward) person whose theories tend towards the unbelievable. It's unfortunate that, despite all of their theories, Perri has no idea what's actually going on in Easthaven.

And…

"Willow" (M/F/NB)

Your little sibling. Flighty, impulsive, and outgoing; their fascination with the occult is what lands you in Easthaven. Your relationship can range from best friends to sworn enemies. Will they be able to save you from the mess they've made?

LINKS:

DEMO | ROs | Content Warnings

( current wordcount : 225,095 without code )

#interactive fiction #if intro #choicescript #dashingdon #hosted games #if wip

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latenightdaydreams · 3 days

Text

König x Reader Forbidden Love (fem)

Poll story!

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, unhappy marriage, cheating, p in v, unprotected sex, angst

1.9k word count

💔

At 2 am you wake up and head into the shower. Today is your last day home before your seven-month deployment and you hate to admit you’ve been looking forward to it. While other soldiers might love their time home, you don’t. It’s all stagnant, the same mundane life you try to run from. You step out of the shower to see your husband, Jon, standing there brushing his teeth. He looks over at you and smiles.

In an attempt to hide your body you snatch your towel off the hook and wrap it around yourself, giving your husband a weak smile in return. You quickly walk past him into the bedroom, gathering your uniform while leaving behind a trail of water. Jon pokes his head into the bedroom to watch you, assuming your attitude is just nerves.

“Jon, can I get some privacy?” You say stomping over to close the door in his face.

Once you're dressed and your hair pulled back in a bun, you go to the kitchen with your bags. Jon sits there smiling weakly at you while he watches you sit to lace up your boots. He hates to see you go, being your highschool sweetheart, he’s never spent time away from you before you joined KorTac.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

You stand and so does he. His arms wrap around you in a tight hug, making you feel guilty for your lack of feelings. Being forced to marry him from a young age, you feel as if you’ve grown out of him. He was what you needed when leaving your abusive childhood home, but now that you’re stable you realize it was never love; simply survival. Yet, here you stay. There is an odd sense of loyalty, as if you owe him for helping you get to this point.

“I should go.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

The fifteen-hour flight seemed to drag on, putting your feet down on the ground was a welcomed feeling. Out of the corner of your eye you spot König, looking at you through the eye holes in his sniper hood. For a moment the gaze lingers before you turn your head and continue on your way.

It’s the middle of the night as you toss and turn in your cot, unable to sleep. The first night in a new place always gets to you. In the darkness you look over at the woman that is sharing the tent with you, she’s fast asleep. Letting out a deep sigh, you get off of the cot and leave the tent.

The moons brightness is dulled by a cloudy night, a few shining stars peeking through. Tall grass sways in the wind as your eyes roam. Unconsciously you turn and look towards König’s tent before looking away and letting out a deep breath. After a second thought, you walk away and head back to your tent.

König takes a deep drag of his cigarette watching you walk away from his tent with a smirk. He pushes off of the tree and begins to walk towards you, letting a puff of smoke slip from between his lips. His eyes trail over every inch of your body as he approaches you.

“Can’t sleep, Liebling?”

“Jesus Christ!” You jump and turn around when you see him, letting out a small laugh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” König chuckles lightly.

You watch as he tosses the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it before walking closer to you. “I saw you were looking for me.”

“I—”

“I was waiting for you, follow me.”

König grabs your hand and walks you to his tent. While he tries to appear relaxed, his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s been too long since he’s seen you, since he’s been able to taste you. He scans the area to make sure no one sees the two of you together, standing guard as he opens the flap of the tent and lets you in.

You enter his private tent, but before you can say a word König scopes you up into his arm and lifts you up. He pulls his hood off and tosses it to the floor, leaning in to kiss you deeply. He holds you ass cupped in his hands, squeezing the supple flesh as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your lip’s part, accepting his tongue as he carries you to his chair and sits down.

“I’ve missed you.” König says as he pulls back, letting his hands rub circles over your hips and rear.

“I’ve missed you too, König.”

“Why did you ignore me earlier today?”

“There were a lot of people around.”

“Ja? That doesn’t mean we can’t talk.” His hands slip underneath your shirt and begin to touch your warm flesh. “I was a little upset, I won’t lie.”

“I’m sorry.” You move your hands to cup his strong jawline.

“Don’t be sorry. I have you now.”

König lifts your shirt up and pulls it over your head, he begins to kiss your neck down to your cleavage. His hands slowly wrap around your back, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall off your body slowly. He takes a moment to look down at your breasts before leaning in to kiss them, his mouth eagerly finding your hard nipples.

While his mouth suckles at your breasts he continues to undress you, undoing your pants and letting his hands slip underneath the waistband. He stands you up to pull your pants down, his lips leaving your breasts and trails down your abdomen. The strong smell of your wet cunt hits him as he pulls down your black panties.

“You look even better than I remember.” König says as he leans back in the chair and pulls off his shirt, undoing his pants to release himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Since when do we use condoms?” König tilts his head as he stares at you curiously.

“I- like just in case.”

“I don’t have any. I only have sex with you, and you said we won’t use them.” He reaches out and grabs your arm pulling you to him.

You go willingly towards him and straddle his lap. The heat from his erection adiates underneath your lap as you rock your wet pussy back and forth on his length. He’s right. You said no condoms because you wanted children, but now you’re second guessing it. Could you really break up a nearly two-decade long relationship?

“Where’s your mind?” König whispers as he kisses your neck.

“Right here.” You lie.

You adjust yourself and reach between your legs to position his cock right up against your entrance. His lips linger on your neck as he waits for you to lower yourself, his cock throbbing slightly with need. After waiting, you sit down on him; sinking down slowly but completely on his long shaft.

“Oh, fuck y/n.”

König’s hands move down to your hips, assisting you in your bounces. His eyes lower and lock on to your breasts as they jiggle with each little motion you make. The sounds of pleasure that leave him come out in a melody matching your rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You don’t respond as you continue to move, your hands on his shoulders with your nails digging in and leaving red marks behind on his pale skin. All you want to do is focus on how good he feels stretching you out, closing your eyes and just trying to tune his voice out. That is until he grabs your jaw in his massive hand, forcing you to open your eyes and face him.

“I asked, whose pussy is this?” His voice is more of a low growl when he asks the second time.

“Yours.”

The usual blue color of his eyes is replaced by his blown-out pupils, completely lost in the moment with you. “Gut, good girl.” König lowers himself in the chair and leans you forward against his chest as his hands grip you. He thrust up into you, rapidly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gaze back into his eyes as your eyebrows pinch together, your body becoming overwhelmed with the need to orgasm. The sound of your sopping wet pussy swallowing him up radiates in the small space of the tent. König’s body quickly becomes sweaty, his breathing heavy as he tries his best to hold off on his own release until you do.

“König.” You whimper.

“Oh- y/n. I love you fucking pussy.”

“Please, harder.”

König stands, shocking you. Your eyes open wide as he quickly turns and places you on the chair. He grabs the back of the chair and use it to balance himself as he slams into you, watching your face as it slowly crunches up.

“Cum for me, cum on my cock!”

“Fuck!”

You squirm, each thrust of his cock sends a powerful burst of ecstasy throughout your whole body. The begging and whimpers turn into a mumble of nothing as your pussy clenches around his cock. König closes his eyes for a split moment before looking back down at you, pushing himself all the way in causing you to cry out softly. He throbs, releasing deeply in you.

König tilts your face up so he can kiss you, keeping his cock inside of you while he calms down. Every time he cums inside of you, he uses his cock as a plug. In his mind this only ups the chances even though you haven’t been pregnant yet. Yet.

Once you both clean up and get dressed, you reach down to pull your boots back on. He hits on his little nest on the floor, he’s too big for a cot so he works around it. You’re distant, more than usual. It worries him, but he’s trying to act calm.

“Where are you going so quickly? Don’t you want to snuggle?”

“I’m tired.”

“So? Sleep here.”

You look up at him and let out a soft sigh. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We could get caught.”

“So?” König leans forward, not used to this defiance from you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, König.” You snap at him.

His eyes widen, not expecting you to get so angry at him. For a moment he just waits and watches you. He stands and walks to you, grabbing your waist, and pulling you back to sit on his lap on the ground.

“König!” You sound annoyed with him as you try to stand up, but he won’t let you go.

“Please, please talk to me. Don’t act like this after all this time apart.” His voice sounds defeated in that moment. He can’t bear to speak out loud that he’s fearful of you growing tired of him, of this. You’ve become the most important person in his life. Losing you isn’t something he’s ready for.

“I don’t know. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Talk to me. I will try to help.” He’s desperate to not be rejected.

You turn and look at him with a small frown. If only it could be that easy. There are a million thoughts rushing through your mind. Is a future with him even realistic? “Not tonight. We should really sleep.”

Reluctantly, he relaxes his hold on you. Logically he knows that he can’t force you to open up or stay here with him. While he wants to, he can’t. He watches with sad eyes as you stand from his lap without so much as a goodbye kiss.

“I love you, y/n.”

“Me too…” You say softly to König before leaving his tent.

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dropping out of college and moving back in with your parents is embarrassing when you live in a small town, where news and rumors spread fast. You have a chance encounter with a man that just moved into town, not realizing your life is about to get a lot more exciting.

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, implied kidnapping, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a vampire au. I wanted to do a twist on Las Plagas where it turns people into vampires, also I was very much inspired by @nexysworld's vampire!Leon bot (which is excellent huehuehue). This fic takes place in the late 1980s, so canon stuff is completely thrown out the window so if that's not your thing, kindly move along.

Oakvale is a fictional town nestled in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountain region and based heavily on my own experience growing up in small town New England. Shout out to my fellow New Englanders! 🥰

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Title inspired by Jason performed by The Midnight

Line break Divider by cafekitsune

You stand at the end of the walkway leading up to your childhood home in Oakvale, New Hampshire, holding your luggage in one hand. You take deep breaths, preparing yourself for a nasty welcome home. You can still hear your father’s rage filled voice from your phone call a few days prior. You had decided to drop out of college. You were failing your classes and you couldn’t cope with hectic college life. Your mom, on the other hand, while disappointed in your decision, understood that this was your choice and that you were an adult now.

You had gone to college at the University of Illinois majoring in accounting under your father’s strict guidance in hopes that you would graduate and then run the finances for his car repair business. He was only going to help pay for college if you majored in accounting, so you had agreed begrudgingly. You were terrible at math and hated working with numbers, it was no wonder you were struggling.

You collect your thoughts, exhale loudly and approach the front door, wheeling your luggage behind you. You stand before the front door, giving it a few light knocks. You hear movement inside the house and the sound of your mother yelling down that she is coming. The front door opens and you’re greeted with your mother’s smiling face; a very welcome sight, beating the alternative.

“Sweetheart!” your mom exclaims, wrapping her arms around you, “how was your flight?”

“It was alright, I was able to sleep most of the way,” you reply as your mom leads you into the house.

You glance into the living room as you walk into the house, seeing your father watching the weather channel. He won’t even look at you or acknowledge you. Your mom sees the distress in your face. She stands in front of you, grasping your arms gently.

“Pay him no mind, sweetie, I’ve given him strict instructions to not talk about college with you. Give him time, he’ll get over it,” your mom lets go, continuing to lead you to your bedroom, “he needs to understand that you are an adult and can make your own decisions. He knew going into this that you hated math, it’s his own fault for pushing you so hard.”

You're comforted by your mother’s words as the two of you reach the precipice of your bedroom. She opens the door for you and you are met with your childhood bedroom, exactly how you left it before you went off to college three years ago: floral bedding, light pastel pink walls, matching white furniture and boy band posters and polaroids of you and your friends attached to the walls. You make a mental note to redecorate, but that can wait until later.

Later that evening, you join your parents in the dining room for dinner. Your Mother made your favorite: pasta in tomato sauce with kielbasa, squash and zucchini. Despite the fact it was late September, the family garden was still providing fresh vegetables. At first, you all eat in silence; you don’t dare make eye contact with your father. He seems to be too absorbed in the newspaper anyway. After agonizing minutes of silence, your father finally speaks to you for the first time since you came home.

“I got you a job at the gas station, you start Monday.”

You stop mid-bite, looking at your father dumbfounded before glancing at your mother, who smiles at you. He’s referring to the one gas station in town, just on the edge of town leading to the highway.

“Th-Thank you, Dad… that’s very kind of you…” you say before continuing your meal.

All the while, you hear the TV that’s still on in the living room, playing the news, “Fish and Game is still searching for 25 year old Alicia Walker, who hasn’t been seen since Wednesday when she told her family she’d be hiking up Mt. Lafayette--”

“Oh dear… they still haven’t found that hiker, Mick?” your mom says, looking over at your father.

Your father shakes his head in dismay, “nope. Seems to be happening a lot lately, that’s the third hiker in about a month, too.”

“Hikers are going missing?” you chime in before chewing your food.

“Unfortunately. That’s what happens when you go hiking in the Notch unprepared. Promise me you’ll never hike alone,” your father says to you in a stern tone.

“Of course, Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Good,” your father replies with a nod before he continues eating, “pasta’s delicious Sandi.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The weekend goes by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s Monday; your first day at your new job at the gas station. It’s an easy enough job, just working the cash register as people come in to buy things and get gasoline for their vehicles. What your father had failed to tell you, however, is that he got you the late shift: 6:00pm to midnight. The day shift person, an older woman named Peggy, who also trained you briefly, let you know that police officers often stop in at night to check on things, giving you some comfort. Oakvale wasn’t a bad town by any means, but this gas station was also close to the highway; anyone could come in.

That is made apparent when the chief of police himself stops in around 10:00pm, Chief Robert Dion, but most people in town just call him Chief Bob or just Chief. He was a burly man with a large mustache that he used wax to curl the ends; he almost looks like a cartoon character. His hair and beard are starting to show his old age. You recall he’s a nice man; you smile at him from behind the cash register as he walks through the door.

“Chief Bob! Long time no see!”

“Well, hey there little lady! Mick told me you were working at the gas station now! When did you get back into town?”

“Friday afternoon. I’m… not cut out for college, I guess…” you reply, your tone becoming morose.

“Hey! Don’t get down! Take some time to yourself and try again.” he says, leaning up against the counter on one arm.

“Thanks Chief. What’s the latest gossip in town? I’m sure I’ve missed a ton in three years.”

“Mostly about those missing hikers. I’m sure you heard--”

The sudden roar of a motorcycle cuts him off as a Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls up to one of the pumps outside before cutting the power. You watch from your peripheral vision as the driver gets off the bike. You draw your attention back to Chief Bob.

“As I was saying… I’m sure you heard about the missing hikers.”

You nod, “yeah, it was on the news when we were having dinner on Friday.”

You hear the electronic chime on the door go off as someone walks in and that’s when your eyes settle on what is quite possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket with worn denim jeans and work boots. Chief Bob moves out of the way to let the man come to the register. Your heart can’t help but race in your chest as your eyes are locked on the man.

“Can I get $5 on pump uh…” the man leans to look out the window at the number of the pump he parked at outside, “four?”

“S-Sure, of course! $5 please,” you reply, kicking yourself internally for stuttering.

The man pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, setting down a five dollar bill. Your eyes drift to his hands to check to see if he’s wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger; you don’t see one. Shifting your gaze back up, you see that his eyes are suddenly locked on yours; he gives you a playful smirk and winks before he turns to walk out.

“You’re out awfully late,” Chief Bob says to the man as he walks by.

“Had some errands to run. Take care Chief,” the man replies before walking back outside to fill his bike.

Your eyes are once again locked on the man before Chief Bob’s voice draws your attention back, “I think that’s the guy that bought ol’ Archie Mason’s place about a month ago.”

Archie Mason. Now that’s a name you haven’t heard in a while. You knew him as Mr. Mason, a curmudgeon of a man that lived on a dead end road in the woods by himself in town. As kids, you’d dare each other to go to his house, knock on his front door and see who could run the fastest before getting caught. Mr. Mason hated children.

“When did Mr. Mason die?” you ask as you get the $5 bill the handsome man gave you into the cash register.

“I think… two years ago? The house finally went through probate and was sold. That guy moved in and has been fixing it up ever since. Usually see him at Rocky’s.”

Rocky’s is a hardware store in Oakvale, a popular spot for all the younger and middle aged men in town, right up there with Moe’s bar, which was conveniently right next door to the hardware store. You hear Chief Bob talking to you still, but you can’t focus. Instead, your attention is on the mystery man pumping gas into his motorcycle, your heart all aflutter.

You wake up around 9:30am Wednesday morning, shuffling over to your closet to put on some clothes. Afterwards, you go into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and put your makeup on. All the while, you can hear your father hard at work in the garage on someone’s car through the various open windows in the house. You decide to pay him a visit after you get yourself put together.

You go outside, walking over to the adjacent auto repair shop, stopping to glance up at the sign hanging off the building: Mick’s Auto Repair. Every business in town had this unspoken rule that their business had to have their name in it; Mick’s Auto Repair, Rocky’s Hardware, Moe’s Bar and Grille, Sally’s Sew Shop, just to name a few. You continue walking, walking into the shop through the open garage door.

“Hey Dad!” you call out, looking around before seeing your father’s legs sticking out from under the car he’s working on.

You watch as he rolls out from under the car, his face, clothing and hands covered in oil stains. He looks up at you, his eyes squinting from the sun leaking into the garage.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell me Mr. Mason had died.”

“Oh… yeah… died in his sleep. The old fart was 92. Didn’t really come as a shock to anyone.” your dad replies, rolling himself back under the car.

“Do you know anything about the guy that bought the house?” you continue to pry, crossing your arms as you look down, addressing your father’s feet.

“Yeah, his name’s Leon, I think. Moved in from D.C. if I heard right. What about him?”

“Oh… nothing… he came into the gas station the other night…” you reply, your voice trailing out as the butterflies stir up in your gut thinking about him.

Leon… that suits him, you think to yourself.

“Now don’t you go getting any ideas, the last thing you need right now, young lady, is to be distracted by some boy. He’s too old for you anyway-- oh fuck!” your father curses as you hear something snap from under the car, rolling back out with a broken wrench in his hand.

“That’s not good,” you comment, watching as your father shoots you a glare.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “can you run over to Rocky’s real quick and get me another one? I’d go but I’m caked in oil. Don’t need Rock yelling at me for tracking oil into his store again. I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure, no problem! I’ll be right back!” you say, heading back into the house to grab your purse from your bedroom.

You grab the broken wrench from your father so you make sure to get the right one and head out. The hardware store is about a 15 minute walk from your house, so you decide to just walk, enjoying the crisp hair and sun of early fall. Coming upon Rocky’s Hardware, you step inside, a bell hanging off the door ringing as you walk in.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mick’s little girl! How’s it going, sweetheart?” Rocky says from the cash register.

Rocky is another older man, medium build with a head full of gray hair and a big, bushy gray mustache.

“Hey Rocky!” you reply as you pull your father’s broken wrench from your purse, “Dad broke another wrench, sent me to get another one for him.”

“Jesus… they don’t make them like they used to, do they? Aisle 6 dear, on the left.” Rocky says, gesturing into the store.

“Thanks Rock,” you say before proceeding to the aisle in question; however, when you turn to walk down the aisle, you stop dead in your tracks.

Leon, the man from the gas station the other night, is standing in the aisle looking at hardware, which is on the opposite side of the tools. You stand there, staring at him like an idiot, your heart pounding in your throat. As if sensing your presence, the man turns to you, giving you that same smirk from the other night.

“You’re that cute girl from the gas station,” he says; it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

He remembered you. He also called you cute, making your stomach twist in anxiety.

“Y-Yeah…” you manage to say before working up the courage to walk into the aisle to look at the tools.

Leon’s eyes stay on you as you approach, watching as you draw your attention to the tools.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a hardware store?” he asks playfully, you can hear him smirking as he moves to stand next to you.

“Oh… my Dad broke his wrench. He asked me to get him another one.” you reply, trying desperately not to let your nerves get the better of you as you show Leon the broken wrench.

“Oh dear! Let’s see…” Leon starts as he looks up at all the different tools, reaching up to grab one of the wrenches hanging off the display, “this one looks like the same wrench, here you go.”

Leon hands you the new wrench, his fingers lightly caressing yours as he pulls his hand away, a gesture that is not missed by you. You feel your cheeks flush as you tuck the broken wrench back into your purse.

“Thank you mister…?”

“The name’s Leon Kennedy. But please, just call me Leon.” he replies, making eye contact with you, “what’s your name?”

You pause for a moment before you practically stutter your name out. You watch as Leon smiles at you, his eyes taking you in as he looks up and down at you.

“That is a lovely name,” he says, the compliment hitting you straight into your core; you feel your panties become slick.

“Th-Thank you… you have a nice name, too.”

Leon gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “I gotta go pay for my stuff. Hopefully we can see more of each other, yeah?”

You stare at him in awe for a moment before nodding, “Yes! I… I’d like that, too…”

He gives you a wink before he turns to walk out of the aisle and up to the cash register, where you hear him make small talk with Rocky. You are frozen in place in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. You wait until you hear the bell on the door ring before you go up to the register to pay for the new wrench.

You couldn’t get home fast enough, your entire being a bundle of nerves. Once you get home, you walk through the open garage door to give your father the wrench. You find he’s not in the garage, so you walk back into the house, only to find him standing in front of the TV in the living room, watching the news.

“Dad, I got the wrench--” you begin to say as you cut yourself off, seeing there’s a breaking news report playing on the TV, “what’s wrong?”

Your father turns to you, his look is forlorn, “another hiker went missing, they were last seen Monday.”

That night, after getting home from your shift at the gas station, you toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable. You can’t get Leon off your mind. Tossing your comforter off you, you lay on your back, propping your legs up and spread them as your right hand dips under the hem of your underwear, your fingers finding your clit to rub slow circles into it.

As you lose yourself to your own pleasure you moan Leon’s name softly, closing your eyes to picture the way his beautiful blue eyes looked up and down your body earlier today, the way his jeans hugged his slender hips. You could almost smell his leather jacket. Your fingers pick up the pace on your clit, causing your hips to buck into your fingers as you chase your high, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

You turn your head towards your windows, slowly opening your eyes, only for your breath to be caught in your throat as you spot a pair of glowing red eyes peering into your window. You watch as the eyes suddenly dart away from the window, thumping sounds quickly following. You quickly pull your hand out from your underwear and practically jump out of bed to your window, throwing it open to look out. You look around, seeing nothing in the darkness. Your bedroom is on the second floor, it couldn’t have been a person. People don’t have glowing red eyes.

You take deep breaths, realizing your thoughts are only psyching yourself out. It was just your imagination in the heat of you getting yourself off, you decide, before you shut your window, locking it. Just in case. You walk back over to your bed, collapsing into it, your arousal having been scared out of you, so you quickly drift off to sleep.

Part 2

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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rafedaddy01 · 10 months

Note

Hate sex with like enemy Rafe and him saying “I’ll make it fit” 😩😩😩😩

“Look who it is!” My mother beams at my father as I snap my head in the direction she indicates.

Ugh. Him.

Rafe Cameron. Kook King. My sworn enemy. And also my childhood crush.

I roll my eyes as Rose and Ward walk up to greet my parents with Rafe hot on their trail.

Shit. He looks fine.

He’s wearing a black button up with the top button exposed. His shirt is tucked into his black dress pants and his hands hang in his pockets like he could care less about being here.

He probably does, he hated being seen in public with his family, im surprised he’s here.

“Y/n” he greets coldly as I stare at his outstretched hand.

I look him dead in the eyes before reaching out and shaking it.

“Sit down, sit down!” My mother says to rose.

“Oh no. We have reservations! Ward is meeting with some business partners to discuss Rafe taking over the business.”

So that’s why he’s here.

He stands silently still, his eyes raking down my body and up to my eyes where he smirks once he’s noticed he’s been caught.

“Who knew trolls could clean up so well” he laughs at his own pathetic comment.

“Funny.” I say bluntly as our parents continue small talk for a few minutes.

“Here I thought I caught your attention. With the way your eyes were roaming my body I’d say you want me Cameron” I say as I lean my elbows on the table, giving him a show of my cleavage which he gladly takes.

“Ha! Not a chance sweetheart. Not even if hell froze over” he leans closer before bopping my nose.

I scrunch it as I prop myself up and turn my head away, refusing to stare at his smug face.

“Well, that’s our cue” ward announces as some important looking men walk through the front entrance.

“We should catch up soon!” My mother shouts as they walk away, rose turns around to give a brief thumbs up.

We continue our family dinner and after a few moments I get tired of my parents flirting. “Excuse me, restroom” I mutter, which they barely hear, and head head towards the hallway where the bathrooms are.

As I round the corner I bump into a broad chest.

“Oh! Excu-“

“Watch-“

I look up and am met with beautiful blue eyes, the same eyes that I’m dreamed about since grade school. The same eyes that look at me with disgust when they realize who I am.

“Move out of the way Cameron” I gruff and I try to push past him.

“Bitch” he mumbles.

“What did you say?” I snap my head back so fast I think I get whip lash.

“I said your a bitch” he repeats, trying to hold back his smirk.

“You know..” I start, walking towards him and catch him off guard, he steps back and his back hits the ladies room door.

“I don’t get what your issue with me is! Ever since we were little you always have to pick on me. Why? Huh? Is it cause I’m smaller than you? Or is it cause your so jeal-“ I can’t even finish my sentence before I’m pulled into the bathroom.

“What the hell-“

My back is now against the door and Rafes face is inches away from mine.

“Do you ever shut up” his breath is hot and smells of whiskey and cigars, oddly comforting.

“What?” I ask.

“You never shut up, always yapping about something. Maybe I need to teach you how to be quiet”

I’m perplexed as my breath catches in my throat and I gulp, pushing my thighs together.

Rafe cocks an eyebrow at me and looks down, “you like that? The idea of me shutting you up?” He runs his nose down the column of my neck and I let out a shaky breath.

“I think you do” he whispers in my ear before nibbling my neck.

“Fuck, y/n” he groans in my ear and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

In this moment I don’t even care to remember how much I hate him.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since you gave me attitude in gym class back in 9th grade” he confesses as he sucks a sweet spot on my neck.

I swallow hard and my eyes screw shut as my hands grasp the back of his neck, “take what you want” I whisper.

He stops and looks at me before reaching over and locking the door.

We lock eyes and Rafe smiles as he leans forward and captures my lips with his. I moan against them and he picks me up and leads me towards the sink.

He pulls away and turns me around so my ass rubs against his straining zipper.

He runs a hand down my back and I jerk up at his touch, “shit your fucking sexy” he whispers as his hands travels down and under my dress.

He locks his eyes with mine in the mirror and his hand meets the wet patch on my panties, which he quickly tugs down and spreads my legs open.

“Watch me fuck you” he says as he unzips his pants and they fall to the ground with his boxers.

My eyes widen in fear as I peer over my shoulders.

“Rafe! Will- will it fit?” I bite my lip anxiously as he grins and slaps my ass, causing me to yelp.

“I’ll make it fit” he shoots my a wink and sinks into my soaking heat.

My mouth shoots open as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

He picks up the pace and I can no longer hold my head up, it falls down and Rafes quick to grip my hair causing me to hiss as he pulls it back.

“I said watch”

I grip the counter as his thrusts pick up and he groans.

“Fucking perfect” he mutters “wanted this for so long baby” he hits a particular spot deep inside me and I squeeze his cock.

“Rafe!” His hand comes around and presses against my mouth.

“Shh. I’m teaching you to be quiet”

He stares at me through the mirror as his thrusts become relentless and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

I’m squeezing him so hard and he moans in my ear which sends me over the edge.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Rafe hisses out as he delivers a few sloppy thrusts and cums inside me.

He leans over my sweaty body and catches his breath before pulling out and getting himself together.

I turn around and he smiles at me.

He looks like he didn’t just fuck me into oblivion. Me on the other hand? I have red cheeks, messy hair, and hickies on my neck.

“I want you to walk back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs, let everyone see the marks left on your body and know that your taken”

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips before smacking my ass.

“I hate you” I scowl. Which causes him to laugh.

“But your pussy doesn’t”

He winks and walks out of the bathroom, leaving me a heated mess as I try to find my underwear.

I give up and try to make myself look as presentable as possible and head back to our table.

My parents barely noticed I was gone.

When I sit down my phone dings. It’s a message from Rafe.

*see attachment

“Looking for these?”

It’s a picture of Rafe holding onto my panties and winking.

I blush as I shift uncomfortably and watch him stride out of the bathroom hallway before shooting me a wink.

Fuck me. What have I gotten myself into.

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #smut #dark rafe cameron #drewstarkey smut #outerbanks #drewstarkey #rafecameron #fanfic #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron blurb

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 months

Note

The reader is a protective fairy of Dave and always helps him, one day Dave is a little needy so the fairy helps him, despite her having no experience with humans, so Dave guides her (sorry for the bad English)

A/n: Your English is perfect and this was such a cool idea <3

Warnings: smut, riding, corruption, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Dave was a strange kid, always was and everyone agreed on that. He wasn't sure what was so strange, he would just spend a lot of time with you.

You were his best friend that everyone ignored, teachers, classmates, even his own family thought he was possessed or something for hanging out with you.

Most people summed it up to an imaginary friend and therefore saw no reason to bring it up, but as Dave got older it got weirder.

Now, Dave was not an idiot and eventually realized something was different about you. Since you'd been with him so long you told him the truth, that you were a fairy and were there to protect him and help him in any way he needed.

That flew straight over his head but after a few more explanations he got it for the most part.

You were with him through childhood, after his mom kicked him out and all through the bullshit that was Metallica. Of course you stuck with him through Megadeth, not that you had much of a choice.

You didn't need sleep so you would spend the night doing whatever, cleaning, reading, anything to pass the time. You'd stay out in the living room and kitchen, keeping clear of the bedroom so as to not wake Dave, especially not if he had company.

Tonight was no different, Dave was supposedly fast asleep and you were reading on the couch when you heard a strange noise coming from Dave's room.

You were his protective fairy, a guardian angel of sorts, you had to make sure he was ok even though he's told you time and time again not to come in while he was sleeping.

You worked yourself up as you walked over to the room and swung the door open, eyes widening at the sight of Dave laying out on his bed with his pants pushed halfway down his thighs and cock in hand.

"What is that, what are you doing to yourself?" You questioned, gesturing to him in his strange predicament.

Dave stared back at you, not bothering to cover himself up. "Nothing." He said.

You pressed your lips in a straight line. "I've never seen you like this."

"That's- yeah..." He replied. "Because you're not supposed to be in here while I'm sleeping."

You chewed your cheek. "I don't think that's how humans sleep."

Dave stared at you, eyes trailing down your body. "Can you, like, take that stuff off?" He asked, referring to the feather-like covering you had.

You looked down at yourself. "I guess, but it's not the same as humans."

"Oh." He said, sitting up a bit. "You can shapeshift, though, can't you?"

You shrugged. "Kind of, why? Do you not like my appearance?" You asked, spinning around.

Dave shook his head. "No, no, it's not that I just mean, could you, like, make your body human..?"

You shrugged, you'd never tried before. Dave always thought it was weird whenever you changed suddenly so you left the room and returned a moment later looking more human, your wings gone, feathery coating gone as well and replaced with the most 'human' like thing you could think of.

You didn't feel naked but definitely strange and vulnerable. Dave's jaw went slack as he admired your new body.

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pat his thigh, gesturing for you to come over. You did but he stopped you when you went to sit on the bed next to him. "On the ground." His tone wasn't harsh and there was a shine in his eyes, one you'd never caught before.

Again you did as he asked and kneeled between his legs, looking up at him with slightly furrowed brows, confused as to what he was planning.

"Have you ever done this before?" He asked, running a hand through your hair. "Like, with other fairies or something?"

"I don't even know what you're trying to get me to do." You said bluntly, shoulder slumping.

"Sex, have you ever had sex before." You perked up at that. You'd never experienced it but you had heard of it to an extent. It was something you did for love with someone you loved and it was supposed to feel good.

"No." You said. Dave chewed his cheek.

He pulled you onto the bed and laid you down on your back, kissing your cheek then down your jaw until he was at your neck.

You could feel him rubbing against you, the anatomy of this body, and it sent shivers up your spine. "Davie, do more." You said, soft moans leaving you.

He guided his tip between your folds, drawing a small gasp from you. "Tell me if it hurts." He said before pushing into you. Never having experienced this before you were incredibly sensitive, back already arching off the mattress.

"Oh! Davie, do more." He let out a low chuckle at that and pulled his hips back. You whined, thinking he was stopping, but when he pushed back in you moaned. He did it again and again, your body feeling weirder by the second.

You could feel something hot building deep within you and the way Dave looked down at you, his big, fluffy hair framing his face as he stared at his dick disappearing in you.

Your breathing picked up and you felt your brain going foggy. Right before everything that built up came undone he pulled out of you. You whined at the lack of friction.

Dave moved to sit back against the headboard once more. "Is that it? Is it done?" You asked, looking at him with a pout on your lips.

He laughed at your concern and shook his head. “No, just c’mere.” You nodded and moved to straddle his lap. You weren’t sure what he was doing but you knew what you wanted, sinking down on his dick.

“I-I like this, Davie~” You gleamed. “Why-why couldn’t we do this before..?”

“I didn’t think we could.” He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides before landing on your hips. “Now, just let me guide you, alright?” You nodded and let him lift you up.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he helped you ride him, soon you were doing it yourself and making yourself feel good, telling by Dave’s grunts he felt good as well.

You snapped your hips and your eyes shot open, a gasp ripping from your throat. “Oh, fuck! Right there, I like it there!” You moaned out, head falling back.

Dave rolled his hips up to meet yours. “Right there?” He asked, hearing your moans getting louder.

You felt yourself coming undone, wrapping your arms tightly around him as pleasure racked your body. Dave helped you ride out your high, getting himself over the edge as well and cumming in you.

He laid you down beside him on the bed, laying beside you and pulling you close to his side. “Are-are you feeling better..?” You asked, looking up at him with tired eyes.

He nodded, kissing your forehead. “Much, I think I’ll be bringing you in here a lot more often.” You couldn’t help but to feel giddy at the though of doing this again.

Sex was something you did for love, with someone you loved. You looked up at Dave again, staring at him until he finally looked down at you. “I love you.” You said, a tired smile pulling at your lips.

Dave stared back at you with a shocked expression. “Uh… yeah… I do love you.” He said, realizing he truly meant those words.

#megadeth x reader #megadeth smut #megadeth imagines #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine imagines #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine

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astxroiid · 7 months

Text

new york private life // tasm! peter parker

❥ childhood crush, date nights, vigilantes, apprehension, sweet young love.

wc: 1.5k

navigation ✩ empire state of mind (II) ✩ manhattan longing (III)

"Hey, um... I'm Peter."

A familiar face stands in front of you, one you've known all your life.

"We went to high school together. I, uh, was wondering if maybe you'd want to maybe hang out sometime." The walls of the college cafeteria seem to be closing in around Peter. His hands twitching nervously as he shifted his feet uneasily.

"Oh!" you're caught a little off guard. "Well, I'm free tomorrow. Where will we be going?"

Peter smiles to himself a little. "There's this sushi place that just opened up a few blocks over... if you like sushi, that is."

The amount of anxiety radiating off this poor boy is so potent you can practically taste it.

"I love it," you grin up at the boy from your seat. "Pick me up at 5:30? we could be there by 6."

"Th-that sounds great!" His eyes light up as an excited smile spreads across his face. He's never gotten a this positive of a response before. This feels good.

"I'll pick you up at 5:30 then. Thank you," he says, trying not to be too happy about this, but he is. Very.

“Sounds like a date to me.” you smile, stand from your seat and kiss his cheek before walking away with a bounce in your step.

A date?! A kiss to his cheek! He's never felt so alive before! His cheeks burn red as you walk away. He can't believe that you said yes.

When 5:30 comes around the next day, you’re waiting by the entrance of your house, ready to meet up with Peter. You’re a bit nervous, but mostly excited. You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, your heart beating fast and body tingling.

When 5:45 comes, you start to worry. Where could Peter be?

5:50. Your heart begins to sink. Was this all a joke?

5:55. Is he... not coming?

6:00. You're officially distraught. Your mind immediately starts running to various conclusions. Is he busy? Did something happen to him? Or did he simply change his mind?

6:15. Maybe he forgot? Maybe he's late? Maybe he lost track of time?

6:30. Your eyes are puffy and red. Tears start to stream down your face as you realize he’s probably not coming.

7:00. Anger replaces sadness. Did he do this on purpose?! What the hell?! What was the point of even asking you out?

8:00. Sadness returns. After all your emotions drained your energy and tears blurred your eyes, you cant help but come back ton the thought: Why did he do this? He can't even have the courtesy to at least call you?

Just as the thought come to mind, your phone rings. It's Peter.

Your eyes widen and you quickly pick up the phone. You desperately hope that this might just change things, but you also can't help and start to feel anxious, afraid of what he might have to say.

"Hey," Your voice cracks as you hold the phone to your ear.

Peter's heart sinks at your tone, immediately feeling at fault. "Hey," he echoes in a small tone. "I'm sorry I didn't show up today..." he says, almost inaudible for a moment. He sounds... shaky. Nervous. "Something came up..."

In what world is that a good excuse for leaving a girl waiting for you for two and a half hours? He mentally cringes, wishing he could explain better. How? 'Hey, sorry I basically ghosted you , I'm Spiderman and I had to stop a robbery?!' it almost sounds made up.

"oh..." the same, tearful tone etched into your voice from before. "it's okay, I guess."

He gulps at the sadness in your voice, feeling worse now, not sure how to handle this situation.

"My aunt called me. She had some things she needed help with," he said, trying his best to avoid giving details. "I lost track of time and only just realized how late it was. I was rushing as fast as I could but I know I missed our date. I'm sorry, I should have at least sent you a text."

“It’s okay.” you sound only slightly more cheerful. “How about you make it up to me come over with some takeout and we watch a movie?”

"Really?" he asks, sounding surprised. After the tense conversation you both just had, he didn't think the night - or relationship for that matter - would be salvageable. "I mean sure," he says, not being able to hide the joy in his voice or the smile on his face. "What kind food do you want?"

“You pick.” You smile “Come over as soon as you can.”

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

About 20 minutes later Peter knocks on your door. You open it to reveal the sweetest looking boy with flowers an Thai food in hand, appearing a little guilty but still excited.

You couldn't resist smiling back at him, feeling much less mad about what happened earlier.

"Sorry for the wait," Peter apologizes as he hands you the bouquet of tulips. You gladly take them.

Walking over to the kitchen and filling a vase with water, you call out to Peter, who's still standing in the doorway.

“You can come in Pete! You can set the food down over there," you gesture to the coffee table, covered in candles and books for your college classes.

Pete?! He smiles warmly as he enters into the living room and he watches you set the flowers in the vase. Peter glances around your apartment, your home is quite cozy.

Dark blue curtains hang around each window, soft lights from the New York night glowing through. Every surface in your home is decorated with mixtures of candles, lamps, books, or cute little trinkets.

The whole place smells like cherries and coffee. The soft music playing in the background bringing the whole mood together.

He goes ahead and sets the food down on the coffee table and he looks around the room. "Your place is nice," he says softly. He loves it. he could get used to spending more time here.

“Why thank you.” You blush, placing the flowers down “Oh! I was thinking about watching some of the Star Wars movies - is that okay?” You plop on the couch, patting next to you for Peter to sit.

"Star Wars is always okay with me," Peter replies, happy that you're not upset anymore. He sits down next to you and he can't help but notice how close you're both sitting next to each other. His heart flutters.

"The Empire Strikes Back is my favorite," Peter replies excitedly, happy to be sharing one of his interests with you.

He smiles, feeling very happy with the current state of things.

"That's my favorite too!" You smile brightly, looking into his eyes.

There was an odd and almost indescribable intimacy between you two, as if your shared love of Star Wars had brought you closer together in some unknown way.

“Really?” Peter asks, feeling thrilled by this coincidence.

You nod, giggling at Peter's excitement.

"What's your favorite character?" Peter asks. He's trying to watch the movie, although it's hard to take his eyes off of you for too long.

"Hmmm..." you place your finger on your chin, feigning deep thought. "Obi Wan, hands down the best in my opinion. What about you?"

"Definitely Han Solo," he replies, smiling. You notice how his cheeks are a bit red right now.

Is he blushing?

"He's cocky and always in the middle of trouble, but so charismatic and charming," Peter adds. He leans closer, getting a little more comfortable on the couch.

"Who's your least favorite?"

You notice him moving closer but don’t mind at all “Kylo Ren, I think. His character is just too underdone - they could’ve done better. What about you, Pete? Who’s your least favorite?” You lean in close to him, placing Your hand on his shoulder.

"Totally agree," Peter says quickly, gulping. "Kylo Ren sucks."

Chills take over Peter's body as your hand rests on his shoulder.

You're sitting awfully close, and the thought of it makes his head rush. He wishes he could take his eyes off of you.

Your heart begins to pound. He's getting so lost in the atmosphere.

You smile and turn your head back to the TV watching along as Han Solo grabs Leia, kissing her deeply. There's an ache in your chest for something similar.

Please kiss me. Peter's mind races and begs. Just go for it! He silently urges himself.

He's dying to turn his head towards you. The closeness is sending him into a spiral of emotion. If only he could find the courage to make a move. As he glances your way, he notices you're not looking at him; your attention is elsewhere. A wave of disappointment washes through him.

Peter looks to his fidgeting hands, now incredibly insecure.

Is he reading the signals wrong? His heart sinks. Does she not feel the same way?

His breath is shaky and he's afraid of ruining the evening.

Peter decides it's best to focus on the movie and not his growing, aching feelings.

I hope y'all enjoyed my first fic in a loooong time lmao, big thanks to character.ai for helping me come up with this!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #marvel #sony #marvel x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #parker

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solecize · 6 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5.4k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. mentions of death

part seven: the all-nighter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xvii. the all-nighter

for the last three years of your life, you were used to living alone. you naturally gravitated solitude as you grew older and away from your days with your family and college dorms. nothing really “freaked” you out, even when you lived in the city with a higher crime rate. spiders? just step on them. random noises? it’s just creaky floorboards.

however, you were not prepared for someone pounding at your door at one in the morning.

on days that you worked, you had a strict ten thirty bedtime and couldn’t break it unless you had time for a nap or more than one cup of coffee the next day. you were fast asleep when you woke up, thinking you heard banging over the sound of your white noise machine. for the first few minutes, you shook it off, trying to grasp again onto your slumber. but, the banging continued and your eyes immediately opened, wide.

on instinct, you rolled over and with your head to the ground, grabbed the crowbar that you kept underneath your bed. there was some yelling that accompanied the banging and your blood ran cold. eyes darting around for your cell phone, you realized it was charging in the living room.

“are you kidding me?” you whispered to yourself, tip-toeing as carefully as you could across your bedroom’s usually creaky floorboards.

head ducked down as far as you could, you creeped slowly below your window and tugged your linen curtains to the side. then, centimetre by centimetre, you tried to peer outside. you thought your heart dropped when you woke up to the sound of pounding, until you took sight of the source.

you were filled to the brim with anger, groaning out loud. immediately, you made a beeline down the stairs and nearly ripped the door open.

“jeon jungkook, you scared the hell out of me!” you yelled, feeling like your voice was bursting out of your throat.

in front of you stood jeon jungkook in baggy grey sweatpants and a white tank-stop, sweater tied around his waist. you noticed how his hair up in every direction imaginable. the image forced you to reel it in for a second and you almost felt bad for screaming at jungkook. though, the panic in his eyes briefly flashed away when you also took in the sight in front of him and you noticed the way his shoulders were holding back a laugh.

jungkook finally let the laugh out. “why are you holding a crowbar?”

even though you discovered it was just him at the door and not a serial killer, you were still clutching onto your weapon when running down the stairs. you huffed and didn’t answer him, placing it next to the shoe rack at the door. this was also when you realized that you hadn’t done anything before answering the door, meaning that you were only wearing a baggy t-shirt. if jungkook noticed, he didn’t make it known - then again, it seemed like he was looking in every direction but your own.

“is everything okay?” you asked, grumbling and closing the door slightly, just enough to hide the bottom part of your body and for your head to stick out.

“no. jiwon is missing.”

jungkook ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, bouncing up and down on his feet. his lips were pressed in a straight line, deep in thought. meanwhile, you felt sick.

“what do you mean, jiwon is missing?” your mouth was wide open.

“i’m so stupid!” jungkook yelled, now beginning to pace back and forth. “it’s my fault!”

at this point, you had to step out from inside the door and grab jungkook to get his attention. “jungkook! jungkook, hello? what happened?” you demanded.

he sighed, still not meeting your eye. “we had a fight after dinner and i accidentally fell asleep after. when i woke up an hour ago, she was gone.”

your head whipped around, trying to get a look of the clock in your living room. it was nearly twenty after one. you immediately made a beeline for where your phone was charging, shouting for jungkook to shut the front door behind him.

“have you called the police? where have you checked?”

“bunny, are you crazy? i can’t call the police!” jungkook exclaimed and the aggressiveness of the way you turned to face him again was marked by disbelief.

you were convinced he had lost his mind. your phone was already in your hand, thumb hovering over the dialpad. instead, he walked towards you and gently pushed it down.

jungkook sighed. “i can’t call the police.”

“i don’t understand,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“i can’t call the police because what if they take her out of my care?” he said. “maybe it sounds like a stretch, but i’m afraid the government will see me as an unfit guardian. i don’t want to get any officials involved - at least not yet.”

you squeezed your eyes shut. it was understandable that jungkook had these concerns, but it seemed like either decision was going to be risky.

jungkook continued, “look, the court gave me a really hard time when i was making my case for guardianship, demonstrating responsibility and everything. i was lucky when they granted approval. even then, for the first little while, they had eyes on us constantly - monitoring me for any little fuck up i could make.”

it was something that often came to mind when you thought about jiwon, how jungkook managed to take on so much and seemed to be fine. you understood that there were many people close to the family that helped out where they could, but it was still an extraordinary feat in your eyes.

“what if she’s in some serious danger?” you said.

he shook his head. “c’mon. we live in the valley, nothing bad ever happens here. she probably just got mad and got lost.” jungkook seemed calm by his voice, but he hadn’t stopped pacing. it was as if he always also trying to convince himself of his own words. he had a point, as the town was relatively peaceful, but your own mind was racing and you were stunned with fear.

“jungkook, i don’t know - “

“she’s all i have! i’m so fucking worried out of my mind, but she’s all i have!” jungkook cried out, finally stopping to crouch down and hand his head down. he did his best to shy his face away from your view, covering himself with his arms.

without missing a beat, you immediately stepped towards him and got down on your knees. his stance was strong, but you managed to wrap your arms around his back from behind him. you could feel his body shake with every sob, releasing each one like he’d been holding them for far too long.

“okay, okay, shh. . .” you soothed, rubbing his back and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. you felt his shoulders drop ever so slightly at your touch. “we’ll find her. we’ll find her, i promise and no one is going to take your sister away from you.”

“i thought i was doing a good job. . .”

“kookie, you’ve been doing a great job with her,” you interrupted and the nickname fell out of your mouth before you even knew it. you didn’t even know you remembered the nickname. it’d been years since you’d ever said it and not once did you call jungkook his childhood nickname since moving back.

at this, jungkook could only reciprocate your touch, snaking his own arms around you and holding you like you were going to fly away. you tucked his head under your chin, whispering more reassurances into his hair. his sobs slowly decreased, as he hastily swiped at his face.

you said, “let’s go look for her. but, if we don’t find her in an hour, we have to call the police.”

jungkook nodded, sniffling. he slowly droped his arms from around your torso, though you could have sworn you felt him hesitate to do so.

and from here, in all your grogginess and anxiety, you picked yourself up and jumped into the first pair of pants you found to head out with jungkook. despite your exterior, you were also quite shaken that jiwon was gone and unlike jungkook, you were worried that she wasn’t simply “lost” somewhere in town. even in sleepy town like amber valley, anything was possible, but you didn’t want to give him more reasons to worry.

when the two of you walked out the front door of the farmhouse together, jungkook briefed you on the specifics out what was happening.

“i asked the boys to help out. namjoon and jimin are heading to the woods, taehyung and seokjin are by the river, and hoseok and yoongi are checking main street,” he said, walking a step ahead of you in order to lead the way. “and, um, sorry i went and woke you up like that. you weren’t answering your phone.”

there was about sixteen missed calls from jungkook when you checked your screen and the sight made your heart heavy. you would have picked up in a second, whether not or not you were to wake up at five in the morning. you apologized to jungkook and he waved you off, saying it wasn’t a big deal.

it was also made clear that jiwon left her phone at home, which frustrated jungkook even more because of his constant reiteration to her in regards to always having it. there was absolutely no sign as to where she could be and jungkook needed trusted eyes everywhere, just in case.

the next little while was only filled with silence between the two of you. he passed you a flashlight, while holding his own, as the majority of roads in the valley had very few streetlights. you weren’t sure where the two of you were walking towards, as jungkook had his eyes glued to his phone and thumbs tapping rapidly - presumably talking to the other boys.

“the beach,” jungkook suddenly said, as if reading your mind. “we’re heading towards the beach.”

you recognized several landmarks that confirmed this, looking around and rubbing your arms from the wind. despite the summer season, it had no chance against the dead of the night. the surroundings only grew cooler with each step towards the beach.

you said, “any updates?”

“no,” jungkook responded with a sigh. while on his phone, he was looking up every other second to identify any sudden movements that could have been jiwon. but, it was all road and no sign of the little girl.

you paused, before mustering as much strength as you could. “JIWON!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, as soon as the two of you stood at the path towards the beach.

jungkook looked at you, almost jumping at your sudden shout. he then brought a hand to the side of his mouth and did the same, screaming his sister’s name at the top of his lungs.

the two of you continued doing this, jogging down the path until the dirt beneath your sandals became sand. you had yet to visit the beach since moving back and although it was dark, the smell of salt filled your senses and that was enough to take you right back to what it was like spending your youth by the ocean.

still screaming for jiwon, the two of you split up in opposite directions and wildly waved around your flashlight at every nook and cranny in sight.

“jiwon! jiwon! ji - “ you sighed. it had been nearly ten minutes at this point and you were freezing cold. the beach stretched far and you had yet to cover even half of it. the more you checked for the time, the more anxious you grew.

then, you felt something drape over your shoulders and you turned around, knowing it was jungkook. his eyes were bloodshot red, looking like he hadn’t stopped crying since the two of you parted ways. despite his, his features were expressionless and that was in spite of the cold conditions, as his arms were still bare and he kindly gave up his sweater to put over your own body.

jungkook’s voice was low. “this is hopeless.” he turned around, facing where he had come from. “nothing on that end. i thought i’d join you.”

“this isn’t hopeless, don’t say that,” you shot back, immediately forgetting your own worries to shut down jungkook’s.

“it’s my fault, too. she was so pissed at me earlier,” he groaned. “and we never fight. this is all my fault.”

“stop that,” you said.

jungkook shook his head. “i don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”

he trudged on with you at his side, while you continued to scream for jiwon at every other second until jungkook tapped on your shoulder. you stopped, looking at him in confusion.

“maybe we should tone down the yelling. we’re walking towards some houses and, well, i don’t want to wake people up,” he mumbled.

“you mean you don’t want the town to talk. it’s okay,” you replied at a lower volume, lips pressed into a thin smile.

jungkook’s eyes softened at your understanding. “the community helps me out as much as they talk. there’s people i trust, but i’ve always been given a hard time for being in charge of jiwon. i can’t imagine what the kids might be saying to her at school for having no parents. . .”

“well, instead she got the best big brother in the world.”

“yeah, the best big brother who lost her,” he nearly spat, bitterness coating every single word.

you understood more and more why jungkook didn’t immediately call law enforcement when he found that jiwon was gone. the legal challenges that he could face was one thing and possibly something that could be successfully overcome, but the whispers that spread around a small town were sticky like honey. he didn’t need more on his plate to add on to what he was already likely dealing with.

“so,” you began, hoping that small talk might ease jungkook’s tenseness, “how’s work going?”

“work is work,” he replied dryly, not saying anything more.

“i mean, your only co-worker is a thirteen year old. i can see why it might be boring,” you attempted to drag the conversation, but jungkook was unresponsive. outside of the current situation, you remembered your last encounter with jungkook at the market, which was a week ago at this point.

you thought things were slowly going back to normal with him, but it seemed like he was holding himself back from letting it happen every time. now that the conversation was drawing away from the objective of finding jiwon, it was like jungkook was reminded of what was going on with you. you let out a deep sigh, which made him look at you.

“what? i can’t sigh because it’s obvious you’re mad at me for something?”

“i’m not mad at you,” jungkook said.

you grumbled, “you definitely are. why have you been acting like this?”

“like what?” he responded, looking back ahead and not at you.

it was nearing an hour since departing from the farmhouse at this point and although you were no long half-asleep, you were instead felt growing distress. there had yet to be a call from any of the boys either.

“oppa!” a voice shrieked and your heart jumped out of your chest.

jungkook froze, looking around as if he was hearing things. the voice screamed again and just like that, he jumped to a full sprint towards the direction of the voice. you followed instantly, using all of your strength in your legs to dash alongside jungkook.

“jiwon? JIWON!”

he was much, much faster than you were and although you were doing your best to keep up, he eventually surpassed you. by the time you caught up, your throat was as dry as a desert and your head was levitating above your shoulders. every breath you took was aggressive and every huff was strained.

but, in front of you, jungkook was on one knee and clutching jiwon in his arms. she was sobbing into his shoulder and he, too, was crying with his head hung low. in between each sob, jiwon kept apologizing to her brother.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to - i’m sorry!” she wailed, drool now leaving her mouth and mixing with her tears.

jungkook could barely take in air, hiccuping through his weeping. “don’t you ever scare me like that again - what would i do with myself if something happened to you?” he managed to spit out, trembling with every words. his entire body cried with him, shaking uncontrollably. the sight of jungkook’s pained face and the complete breakdown of his body was foreign to you.

now, you noticed there was another figure in your presence, having completely missed it at first. it was another tiny frame and you recognized it to be sangwoo from the general store, jiwon’s friend. it seemed like he came here with her.

you wiped away the stream of salty tears down your own cheeks, approaching the jungkook and jiwon. you took off jungkook’s sweater, biting back the sharpness of the ocean air, and wrapped it around jiwon’s body.

to your surprise, jiwon let go of jungkook and immediately jumped in your arms.

“don’t cry, honey. shh, we’re here, you’re safe,” you whispered, caressing her hair with one hand and wiping her cheeks with the other. she squeezed your body so hard that you thought she was crushing your bones.

you hugged her back just as hard, rocking her slightly until her sobs became quiet whimperings of apologies. across from you, jungkook watched the two of you, still displaying clear pain on his face. he was still catching his breath, inhaling deeply with a crease in between his eyebrows.

squeezing his eyes shut, jungkook finally spoke. “what were you thinking, jiwon?”

“i thought i could find my way back,” she responded, her volume growing once more and transitioning back to sobs.

“don’t blame her! it was all me!” interrupted sangwoo and jungkook’s eyes flashed with anger, finally taking note of the other boy.

“what the hell happened?”

sangwoo’s eyes were wide in fear. “i’m sorry! she said she was upset and wanted to go on a walk, so we came here,” he said, nearly on the verge of tears himself. “then, we got lost. i’m so sorry!”

you frowned, pulling jiwon’s tiny body closer and shaking your head at jungkook. she needed a second and he sighed, understanding this. jungkook also understood it was time to swallow his anger at sangwoo, deciding a death stare was sufficient and mouthed to him that he would deal with him later. poor sangwoo looked like he was seeing a ghost. then, jungkook instead stood up and walked a few steps away, making a call.

when you saw this, you couldn’t help but gesture for sangwoo. you widened your arms, making enough room for a second body and sangwoo quickly joined the group hug. you continued telling the two children that everything was okay.

“yeah. . .we have her. yeah. for sure, thank you so much,” he murmured into the phone, just barely audible over the sound of ocean waves in the background.

while he was talking, jiwon finally calmed down again. she pulled away, sniffling and met your eyes.

“i’m sorry. i thought i was helping,” jiwon said, which confused you. you weren’t sure what she was talking about.

you responded, “helping what, honey?”

she bit her lip and somehow, you just knew. it was identical to the guilty expression jungkook wore when he was hiding something or he knew something you didn’t. jiwon tugged the sweater tighter around her body before she spoke again.

“you and oppa. . .”

“oppa and who?” it looked like jungkook was finished with his calls, appearing out of nowhere. he no longer looked upset, especially when he saw the look on his sister’s face, and narrowed his eyes at her.

you shot jungkook a look. “let her speak. later.”

the four of you decided it was best to leave the beach, especially since neither you or jungkook had any outerwear to shield yourself from the elements. it was growing later and later, too, and it was agreed to walk back towards the direction of your respective houses. the entire time was filled with silence again, but it was mostly because jungkook looked like he was going to snap if anyone were to talk.

sangwoo was dropped off at his mom’s house, pleading for jungkook to not tell his mom.

he looked genuinely conflicted, even through his anger at the younger boy. “i respect your mom a lot. sorry, kid,” jungkook shook his head.

sangwoo groaned, shoulders dropping. “okay. . .i understand. i’m really sorry again,” he said. “it won’t ever, ever happen again.”

there was light on when you all arrived to the oh house and that was when sangwoo knew he was done for. a shadowy figure moved from behind the front windows, swinging the door open before he even made it up the stairs. you winced when you saw the blank look on mrs. oh’s face, scarier than any kind of anger imaginable.

“get inside,” was all she said, arms folded firmly across her chest.

“i’ll see you tomorrow. . .or never, if i get grounded for life,” sangwoo said to jiwon, visibly sulking.

they exchanged a quick hug and he headed in, right past his mother. you fought a smile because, despite the circumstances, there was nothing more pure than a friendshp at their age. they were ready to go bat to bat for each other, each attempting to take the entirety of the blame. mrs. oh then shut the door behind her, features now softened. she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“you’re okay, sweetie?” she asked jiwon, who silently nodded. “i’m sorry. sangwoo should have known better, he’s the older one.”

somehow, it reminded you of something, maybe a memory, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. you couldn’t dwell any longer because mrs. oh now turned to you and jungkook, who had already begun apologizing and bowed at a ninety degree angle.

“oh, that’s enough, jungkook. i know it’s not your fault,” mrs. oh said, tapping him to stop. “i’m not angry at you at all, got that?”

“but - “

“listen, sangwoo and jiwon safe, that’s all that matters to me. you must’ve been terrified,” she frowned. "i wouldn't have even known he snuck out if you didn't call me."

the last thing jungkook wanted to do was ruin his relationship with a woman who took such good care of him and jiwon, but she was more concerned with the three of you getting some sleep. she even kissed jungkook on the temple when saying goodbye and he visibly eased up afterwards.

eventually, you and jungkook found yourselves on the porch of the farmhouse. it was a quicker trek back than it was towards the beach, likely due to the suspense of trying to locate jiwon. you were pleased at this, though, given the already long night. it was nearly four in the morning now and you knew that this would create chaos for your sleeping schedule, deciding in your head to take the day off.

“get in, i’ll deal with you later,” jungkook muttered, opening your front door slightly for jiwon to walk in. “bunny and i are gonna talk, just go sit down.”

jiwon, with her head still hung low, followed her brother’s orders and walked inside. he closed the door behind her, running a hand through his disheveled hair. jungkook was the most calm he’d been all night, but it still looked like he was ready to scream his head off.

you tucked a stray hair behind your ear, taking a seat on the bench beside the door. he joined you, mumbling something under his breath about how he couldn’t believe that just happened.

“hey, it’s okay. we found her -” you murmured, rubbing his back gently.

“- thank you,” jungkook interjected, finally spitting out some coherent words. “you saved my life today.”

“i only helped where i could.”

“and it means the world to me. thank you,” he whispered, meeting your eyes.

you still couldn’t believe how the events of the night unfolded. you were relieved and tired, but most of all, you were overjoyed for jungkook. it was like you physically witnessed a huge weight lifted off his shoulders.

you said, “in a heartbeat, jungkook. i’d help you at any time, anywhere.”

and this was the truth. even though tension was growing between you two and even if he came banging at your door in the middle of the night, jungkook was still your friend at the end of the day.

“i’m sorry to have kept you up. looks like we stayed up all night,” jungkook said.

“like we used to when we were kids. you know,” you paused, trying to think. “i think this happened once when we were younger. sangwoo and jiwon got caught staying out late the same way we did that one time.”

this memory was slowly becoming less blurry the more you focused on it, trying to put together the puzzle pieces. on the walk back to the farmhouse, something felt all too familiar about the stroll in the middle of the night. jungkook was quiet, thinking about what you said, until it hit him, too.

“wait, you’re right,” jungkook managed to chuckle, the first time you’d seen him smile all night. “we stayed out late one time because you heard a rumour about a ghost in the woods.”

“yeah, from freaking jimin. i can’t believe i believed him,” you laughed, swinging your feet.

jungkook replied, “you dragged me out to find the ghost and my mom came looking for us!” and of course, though he didn't mention it, jungkook took the blame for you back then. in fact, he always took the blame the same way he let you win every argument.

the two of you shared another laugh together, before it faded into silence again. it looked like jungkook was deep in thought again.

he sighed, looking up at the night sky littered with stars. “so, jiwon and i fought earlier because today marked the anniversary of our parents’ accident. i’ve never wanted to do anything on this day for years, not even visit their grave. mrs. oh had to take her,” jungkook admitted. “she was really mad at me for that. said something along the lines about how i haven’t been able to let myself be happy since they died.”

“well,” you began, carefully, “have you?”

the question was heavy, prompting a blanket of silence for a few seconds. you weren’t sure if you said something wrong, but the look on jungkook’s face seemed to be a pondering one, as if genuinely reflecting on your question. the fact that he had to think about it made you sigh.

“i just don’t know what made her say that. . .” he trailed off.

“why don’t i come with you next time?”

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “to where?”

“to visit your parents,” you responded, smiling softly. “is it hard to visit with jiwon?”

you knew exactly how it felt. it was difficult for you to visit your grandfather’s grave with either of your parents, unable to let your guard down around people you wanted to present a strong front to. with jiwon, you wondered if jungkook had a hard time because of his role as her guardian, his role to assure that he was strong.

he frowned once more, looking at his shoes. “i’d like it a lot if you came.” jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper. “you always seem to help.”

“you deserve to let yourself be happy.”

then, jungkook looked up at you again and you felt the intensity of his stare. you noticed suddenly how close the two of you were sitting to one another, legs pressed up against the other. this was despite the large space on your other side, more than enough room on the bench for you to scoot over, but the option never came to mind.

his eyes glanced down to your lips and quickly, as if it never happened, back to your eyes. you were holding your breath. he slowly moved towards you, so slow that you could count every half centimetre he moved.

you knew what jungkook was doing.

more importantly, at that very same moment, you realized the vulnerable state he was in. you couldn’t, not now. what kind of person would you be if you kissed him right after he thought his sister was missing? jungkook’s lips were brushing just against yours when you sharply pulled back.

jungkook didn’t have time to react because a beat later, the front door creaked open. it was jiwon, frowning at you for some reason. she peeked her head out, before fully stepping onto the porch.

“were you standing there the whole time? i told you to stay inside,” jungkook whipped around and his stern voice grew in volume. his face was turned away from yours and you couldn’t tell what his reaction was to you pulling away.

jiwon sighed. “well, i need to tell you guys something.”

she waddled over to where you guys were, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. jiwon played with her hair nervously, as the two of you could only stare at her.

“what is it?” you asked, making sure your voice was soft. it was also imperative that you were fighting off the shakiness in your voice, as if she caught you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing.

jungkook also sat there, pretending like what just happened didn’t occur at all. he sat too stiffly, in fact, and moved away from you as far as he could. you clenched your jaw, not fully processing that your lips touched his. there were goosebumps up and down your arms, visible to both siblings.

“i didn’t run away just because i was mad about today,” she took a deep breath. “i, well, i wanted to see you guys together.”

“what?” you and jungkook said in unison. both of you had your jaws dropped, completely stunned at jiwon’s confession.

“i knew that oppa would ask you to help him find me,” jiwon mumbled, turning to you. “i just didn’t know i would actually get lost.”

“you - “ jungkook started, but you elbowed him before he could continue.

jiwon panicked, eyes wide. “i’m sorry! i really am!” she began rambling at this point and you could barely make out what she was saying, stumbling on every words. “ - and it seemed like you guys were fighting and i just wanted to help and i thought you guys would make up and - “

you knew you had to interrupt before jungkook could. “come here, honey,” you said, opening your arms wide. jiwon sniffled and stood up, walking into your hug.

as jiwon kept rambling into your shoulder, you looked up and saw the frustration on jungkook’s face. he didn’t say anything, only mouthing the words “i’m sorry” to you. meanwhile, you could only assure jiwon that you and her brother were still very much friends. the entire time, jungkook leaned back watched with his arms acrossed.

the blood orange of the sun was creeping up on the sky when you bade jungkook and jiwon goodbye, a sunrise that would have been otherwise beautiful, if not for the unsaid words between you and jungkook.

jiwon grew drowsy, nearly asleep when it was time to go. jungkook carried her on his back, telling you goodbye and nothing more than that. you also did not bring up what nearly happened between the two of you earlier.

at the end of the long night, there was only one thing on your mind. you could finally accept that you had feelings for jungkook. you only knew this because, for the next while, you kicked yourself constantly for not kissing him. but, of course, you had doubts in your mind about him. you were convinced that he only tried kissing you because his emotions carried him away. you thought otherwise after your failed confession, where you shut down all possible emotions after jungkook suggested to ask out taehyung. then, there were your recurring dreams of him. there was the almost kiss. you were fighting with yourself up until this moment.

of course, nearing two months since moving back to the valley, these thoughts could only be contained for so long. with that, you and jungkook could only avoid each other for so long. even with jiwon interfering, nothing could prepare you for what was to happen the next time you saw jeon jungkook.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji

#jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts au #bts series #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #kpop imagine

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