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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake

Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia

wc: 3.6k

note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry

-⧗-

Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.

Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.

And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.

“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”

But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.

“I think I want a tattoo.”

Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”

“You know, the permanent drawing-“

“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”

Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”

Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.

But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.

She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.

Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.

That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.

Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.

“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.

“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.

“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”

“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”

Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.

Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”

“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.

But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“

“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.

“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”

Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.

“But she’s a kid?”

“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”

“Scarier than me?”

Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”

Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?

~~~

With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.

Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.

Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.

Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.

“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.

“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”

Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.

The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.

“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.

Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.

“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.

“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”

“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.

Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.

“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”

“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”

Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.

“I love it, I really do.”

Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.

The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.

“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”

Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.

But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.

“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.

Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.

“It’s perfect!”

“Then I’ll get started.”

Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.

Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.

“You’re now free to look.”

Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.

A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”

Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.

Her smile.

The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.

“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.

“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.

Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.

“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”

“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.

“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”

“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.

And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.

Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.

Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.

With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”

Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.

“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.

“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”

Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.

But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.

Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.

“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”

“Nat-“

“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”

She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.

What was so wrong with that?

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #tattoos #clint barton

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jgracie · 22 days

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SK8ER BOY

masterlist | rules

❝ Hello can you do a Percy Jackson reader when she try to impress him by skating but monumentally fail because she faceplant in the ground. And softie Percy that kiss your bruise and all (yes I just fell down the stairs and it f*** hurt) please ❞ — @hope92100

in which you try to impress your skater boy (and fail miserably)

pairing percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings reader gets hurt (bruise + bloody nose) but she's fine dw

on the radio sk8er boy (avril lavigne)

an song has nothing to do with the oneshot i just thought of it as soon as i read the request LOL

When your [mortal parent] told you you were moving to New York for their new job, you were elated. Not only do you get a fresh start in a big city, but you also get to be closer to Camp Half-Blood, and closer to him. ‘Him’ being your boyfriend of a couple months, Percy.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Before, you used to only see Percy during the summers - which didn’t really count, considering you spent half your time doing quests for the Gods - and occasionally during school holidays, if you were lucky. Now you could see him all the time! As soon as you heard the news, you Iris messaged Percy, planning all the things you’d do together once you got there.

The first thing Percy suggested (or insisted on) was going skating. He didn’t get to do it very often, since when he wasn’t busy being a demigod he was busy catching up on schoolwork, but it’s one of his favourite pastimes and so he had to introduce his favourite person to it! That’s how you ended up at the biggest skating park you’d ever seen, dodging random mortals in beanies and sneakers with Percy’s hand tightly tucked in yours.

“Hey, watch it, man,” Percy said, scowling at some guy who almost bumped into you. You simply smiled at him, really not in the mood to annoy random mortals. Together, you walked to the scariest looking ramp in the whole park. Even a non-skater like yourself knew that a ramp like that needed to be avoided at all costs. While the rest of the park was full of people, the area surrounding this ramp was empty.

Handing you his backpack, Percy did a few warmups, a grin making its way onto his face when he noticed your look of pure awe.

“Percy, have you ever gone on this one? It looks kinda terrifying,” you said, fidgeting with your fingers. You knew your boyfriend enjoyed thrilling experiences, having dragged you to every rollercoaster in sight the one time you decided to go to an amusement park together, but this seemed to be a little much, even for him.

To your surprise, he replied, “nope! But what better time than now? My lucky charm’s with me, after all.”

That was that. You knew you couldn’t convince him not to go on that awful ramp. You whispered a prayer to your Godly parent as Percy made his way over to it, wishing on all the stars in the sky that your first outing in New York wouldn’t end in a hospital visit.

At first, you were scared to watch, sweat beading at your forehead as images of Percy’s limbs pointing in directions they definitely shouldn’t be littered your mind. But then you heard him yell your name and let out a laugh of nothing but pure excitement, and decided maybe this trip wouldn’t end up in broken bones and hearts.

He was beautiful. Percy could’ve passed for a son of Zeus as the wind whipped around him, blowing his hair in the most flattering directions. Apollo seemed to be watching from above too, as the sun hit him in just the right way, highlighting the different shades of green in his eyes and making his skin glow. When he noticed you looking, he waved at you, doing only a few more flips before carefully stopping and running towards you.

“I told you I could do it!” He exclaimed, nearly bursting with excitement, “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you! I failed all those other times but of course I get it perfectly when you’re here. You really are my good luck charm!”

“Percy, you said you never tried skating on this ramp before.”

“Oh… Well maybe I had a bit of practice, just so I could impress you.”

You giggled at his cuteness and suddenly had a surge of confidence. Maybe you should impress him too. Have you ever skated? No, but that didn’t matter, it couldn’t be that hard! You’ve done all sorts of hard things in combat training at camp, this was nothing in comparison.

Taking the skateboard from Percy’s arms, you set it on the ground and stood on it, causing him to frantically grab your hands so you wouldn’t fall, his eyes wide as he double and triple-checked that you were in one piece.

“What are you doing?” He nearly screamed, “you’ve never done this before, you can’t just scare me like that babe!” His fingertips turned white from the amount of pressure he was putting on your hands and he slowly walked you around the park. After you circled the ramp he went on a third time, you decided you had enough of his help, wanting to really impress him.

Tugging your hands from his grip, you smiled and said, “Percy, let go, I’ve got it now.” He was hesitant, but did as he was told, kind of curious as to how this was going to go. It started off good, you did actually get the hang of it. As your confidence continued to skyrocket, you went faster and faster, and Percy’s cheers began to blur in the background.

The issue came when trying to stop. You had gone slightly off course and were now skating in the midst of other people. Wanting to get back to where you and Percy were, you decided to stop and then switch directions, since you didn’t know how to turn around. That was when you realised you didn’t know how to stop, and you were heading right towards a wall.

“Y/N!” Percy yelled, but it was too late. You face-planted right into the wall and then landed on the floor, nose bloody and bruised. You tried smiling at Percy to assure him that everything was alright, but your face must’ve looked pretty bad because he wasn’t having any of it, grabbing you and bringing you back to his house.

Sally’s jaw had dropped when she saw the state of you. Did you seriously look that bad? Setting you on the couch, Percy ran to the kitchen, getting you a bag of frozen peas and a sliver of the ambrosia they kept for emergencies. You ate the ambrosia and put the peas on your nose, breathing a sigh of relief as they soothed the throbbing pain.

Eyebrows furrowed, Percy said, “Are you feeling better? I’m never letting you skate again, y’know.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the situation you were in. There you were, worried Percy would get hurt on your first day in New York, when it turned out to be you.

“I’m okay, Perce,” you began, smirking as an idea planted itself in your mind, “but I could use one thing from you.”

Immediately, Percy got up, ready to do anything to make you feel better, “what is it? We have more medicine in one of the drawers if that’s what you need, but I don’t think I can give you more ambrosia since I don’t know exactly how much –”

“A kiss,” you interrupted, watching as his face contorted from worry to confusion to a bright smile. You put the peas away and Percy held your face, giving you kiss after kiss after kiss, all over your face. Maybe getting hurt wasn’t all bad.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #cynwrites #percy jackson drabble

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neocentral · 15 days

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Rating: 18+. mdni. Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader Synopsis: The night Jisung had longed for didn't go as planned, leaving him clueless and confused. Feeling desperate, Jisung decided to confront you. Word Count: 5.6k Trigger Warnings: noncon, manipulation, very brief self-harm mention (skin picking), recreational drug use (marijuana) Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, loss of virginity, biting, slight scent kink Warning: My tags are not exhaustive. Proceed at your own discretion. Note: I don't usually write full-length fics so feedback and comments are appreciated! Wonbin version (I am riizeblr!)

You weren’t answering.

It had been three days since he had seen you and all that came after was missed phone calls and text messages left on delivered. You couldn’t even be bothered to open them. Jisung didn’t get it. What had he done wrong? You were being so cruel to him, especially after he had bared his heart to you days ago, left himself vulnerable and at your mercy. And now, you were making Jisung feel unwanted.

You acted like it was unexpected, something Jisung also failed to understand. There was nothing unexpected about any of this. Jisung had been scattering hints left and right since he met you. Back when the two of you were experiencing the unfortunate changes of puberty, brace-faced and skin littered with blemishes. But even then Jisung knew there would never be anyone he would want more than you. And you had been reciprocating.

You had stuck by Jisung through everything. You complimented and consoled him when he was too afraid of his daily contacts and he walked around with his cracked lenses for weeks before he got his hands on new glasses that were just as unflattering. You defended him angrily, tripping the boy who had teased Jisung’s lanky stature during gym, making sure to laugh louder than anyone else on the field when his nose met the ground. You had jumped into his arms as he dropped his matching admissions letter onto your desk, your smile bigger than his while you expressed your excitement of experiencing the world alongside him.

That was why the lack of responses left Jisung in the dark, escaping into the depths of his mind trying to piece together what happened. The night was perfect for Jisung—all of it. The setbacks didn’t feel like much to him knowing that things had undoubtedly changed that night, outweighing the certain struggle that had occurred.

Clearly, you didn’t feel the same.

Jisung threw his head back, banging it against the plush headrest of his car, exasperated and exhausted. He hadn’t slept since that night. His bed suddenly felt much too big and his body felt much too cold without you. Jisung tossed and turned, rubbing his puffy eyes as he stared at the ceiling for hours until he couldn’t take it and he picked up his phone again to text you, hoping you’d finally respond.

He sighed, feeling his lip twitch while he opened his messages, staring back at only a fraction of his pathetic pleading for your attention.

Today 2:46AM

Jisung: are you feeling okay?

Missed Call (2) 2:58AM

Today 6:47AM

Jisung: you aren’t answering me…

Missed Call 9:17PM

Today 12:46PM

Jisung: love :(

Missed Call (3) 1:18PM

Today 1:27PM

Jisung: ???

Missed Call (6) 5:58PM

Today 6:14PM

Jisung: pick up the phone y/n

Today 7:24PM

Jisung: this is getting kinda old now, don’t you think?

Today 8:01PM

Jisung: hello???

Today 9:34PM

Jisung: 🙄

Delivered.

Jisung blinked at his screen, a thumb hovering over the keyboard again. His other hand sat on his steering wheel, fingers anxiously tapping. He looked up. All the lights in your apartment building were dimmed, but he knew you were awake. You never slept this early, growing paranoid as your neighbors slept. The silence made you anxious. The mental image of darkened hallways and the flickering lights in the elevator. The emergency door was broken too, left ajar and unwatched. Jisung had advised you to move out, sending link after link about vacant apartments in his building.

You’ll be safe near me… I won't let anything happen to you.

You always dismissed him. You couldn’t afford an apartment on his side of town on your own and he knew that, but something inside him wanted to tempt you into asking him to save you in some way. It’s not like you hadn’t asked him before. You used to call Jisung to keep you company over the phone. You would tell him how comforting his voice was, his steady breathing calming your heart. Jisung wondered if you were still scared. Who else would you call? Jisung didn’t like where his mind took him.

Is this how you felt? All those nights alone in your rundown home, alone and surrounded by silence. Jisung wondered what it would feel like to be comforted by you, this time. After the words exchanged that night you should be more than willing. But then again, he wouldn’t be feeling this way if it weren’t for you.

Slender fingers hovered over his keyboard.

Today 10:33PM

Jisung: pick up the pho|

Jisung: I’m serious y/n|

Jisung: I’m running out of patie|

No.

Jisung: you won’t like what I’m about to do|

Jisung bit his lip, eyeing the words he typed without hesitation. What would he do? He blinked as an idea flashed in his mind.

No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Jisung: please don’t make me|

Jisung: please don’t ma|

Jisung: please d|

Jisung: ple|

Jisung swallowed. Would he?

Today 10:34PM

Jisung: you’re being incredibly immature.

Minutes passed and Jisung felt ridiculous for feeling dejected at the unchanging delivered. He didn’t know what he was expecting. He sighed again and slipped out of his car, kicking loose gravel and glancing over his shoulder as he pressed a button on his keys, watching the headlights flash as the doors locked. Once. Twice. He sniffled, the freezing wind making his nose run, catching him off-guard despite seeing the condensation fogging his windows throughout the hours he spent in his car.

The metal box of the keypad was even colder. He hurried as he entered the code on the keypad to let himself inside. He doubted it would take much to enter even if he didn’t have the passcode. Jisung paused, shaking his hair out of his eyes, what if something had happened to you? What if you were right the entire time and there truly was something lurking in the halls? A farfetched theory, but he still found himself feeling guilty for growing frustrated by you.

The trek up to your door was familiar. The walk that would leave him feeling giddy whenever you decided phone calls weren’t enough, but this time, his heart clenched. Each step he took made him feel like he was walking closer and closer to something he wasn’t prepared for.

The wood on the edges of your front door was chipped and the layer of paint thrown on top was streaky and thin. Jisung raised his fist, three confident knocks placed to the center. Jisung took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he waited for the rattle of your weathered copper doorknob.

Nothing.

Today 10:58PM

Jisung: I’m outside

Read 10:58PM

Jisung’s breath hitched in his throat. The desperation to speak to you, and clarify the events of that night amplified. He tapped his foot.

Jisung: open the door

Read 10:59PM

Jisung sighed, eyes flickering from the dim screen of his phone to the peeling paint of your front door.

Jisung: please?

Jisung: ?

If it weren’t for the breath caught in his throat, Jisung wouldn’t have heard the light padding of socked feet against the wooden floors. He doesn’t know how you do it. It was impressive that you had adapted to the subpar condition until you learned how to navigate your apartment in total silence, avoiding every loose wooden panel, light on your feet that were never missing cutely patterned socks. Jisung can see the thick fluffy socks in his mind, their lining protecting your precious feet from the cold ground.

Jisung was the opposite. It was like he couldn’t get away from the weak spots. His feet made an ugly creak bounce off the walls as he gave you a sheepish look. You smiled and told him you didn’t mind, unafraid of a little noise with him around. It made Jisung feel good to hear you say that. Each time, his heart swelled even bigger.

“I can hear you,” Jisung said, cheek hovering next to the door. “C’mon… let me in.”

He knew you could hear the pout in his words. You knew him well enough to know what he was feeling without him needing to tell you. He knew you just as well, at least, he thought he did. He was still baffled by this entire situation, lost and confused.

Jisung waited and still, nothing.

Jisung felt his eyes narrow and a thump in his heart. “Open the goddamn door, y/n.” He scoffed, “don’t you think I deserve some sort of explanation? At least give me that much.”

“Jisung?” you said, nothing above a whisper.

Jisung felt his breath leave his lungs. Your voice. God, he missed your sweet voice. “Yeah,” a small smile of relief lifted the corners of his lips, “it’s me… open up so we can talk, okay?”

His teeth caught his bottom lip as he waited, trying to calm his nerves. This time, the familiar rattle met his ears. The copper doorknob began to twist after a few harsh pulls. Jisung used to joke about you getting locked in, a teasing grin directed at you as he told you that not all monsters lurk outside.

Jisung saw your hands first. Your nails were coated with chipped nail polish, the same color you had been wearing the last time he saw you. They were a soft pink, the shade doing wonders for the melanin in your skin. But, you had been anxiously picking at the skin around your fingernails, some bits pulled too far, leaving your fingers littered with sore, exposed flesh. It was one of your worst habits, one that Jisung actively tried to control. When his usual tactics failed to work, he would sometimes offer his own hands. He let you pick and pull on his sensitive skin just so you wouldn’t hurt your precious digits. Jisung grazed his fingertips, feeling nothing but unharmed skin.

His eyes followed the trail of your arm as it came into view, covered in the material of an old long-sleeve that you wore almost daily in high school. Jisung had fond memories of the time. Dimmed lights and hushed voices late into the night at weekly sleepovers, secrets shared beneath blankets, or morning strolls to school with a warm cup of hot chocolate Jisung had prepared held in your gloved hands.

Jisung almost gasped when he saw your face. His heart clenched, his hands itching to reach for you and pull you close. He wanted to pull you against his chest, letting you hear the steady beat of his heart to soothe you until you finally hugged him back, gripping his shirt like he would slip away. Jisung would never dream of doing such a thing.

Jisung observed your under-eyes, the skin weighted and dark in color. Even the shade of your irises looked dulled. It was clear you hadn’t gotten any rest, much like Jisung. You probably sat awake all night, brain wandering to Jisung’s skin like his did yours. You looked at him, pupils flickering around his face that didn’t look any better than yours. The effects of being apart were apparent. You needed Jisung as much as he needed you. Perhaps this time apart made you realize that.

You blinked slowly, lashes fluttering and brushing against your swollen cheeks. Your lips puckered, teeth beginning to nibble on the inside of your cheek. Another terrible habit. Jisung wanted to kiss you, distract your restless mouth with his tongue. He wouldn’t mind, already feeling deprived of the taste of your tongue.

He lifted his hand, ghosting it over your chin. You recoiled immediately, moving your face from reach. Jisung swallowed. “You’ll hurt yourself, love.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

Jisung knew what you were apologizing for. You were apologizing for gnawing on your cheek, not for all the pain you had caused him. That is what you should be remorseful about. His tears, his stress, his confusion.

“It’s okay,” his voice was soft, movements slow as he stepped into your home. “The last few days have been hard for both of us.” Jisung kicked off his shoes, gaze fixed on your face that held an unfamiliar expression. “Things will be better now that we’re together.” He approached you slowly, hands lifted to show that he was no harm to you. Jisung would never hurt you.

You looked down, fiddling with your harmed fingers. Jisung heard you draw a breath. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Jisung’s mouth felt dry, his heart felt heavy in his chest, and his brain paused, “what?”

Your lips wobbled, the breaths through your nose short and rough. “I can’t… I don’t,” you exhaled through your mouth, soothing yourself this time. “I don't want to see you anymore.”

It was Jisung’s turn to be silent. What do you mean? Why don’t you want to see him? What had he done wrong? What had changed? Aside from the obvious inevitable progression of your relationship. It was bound to happen, surely you knew that.

“Love,” Jisung began.

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped.

Jisung tutted. He had always called you “love,” it was nothing new. It was second nature to him and you had never commented on it before, you simply responded like he had called you by your name. To Jisung you were love. You were his love.

“Okay. Y/n,” he emphasized, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here. What do you mean you don’t want to see me anymore?”

Your eyes turned glossy when you looked at him, voice shaky, “you hurt me.”

Jisung frowned, “no, I didn’t. I would never. You know that.”

Your next words were hardly audible but your eyes were blazing. “I didn’t want you.”

Jisung couldn’t deny that it stung to hear you say that. That night had been so beautiful. Perfect. An unforgettable memory Jisung’s entire being wished to recreate.

The stars were high in the sky that night, and the noises of the city were inaudible as endless trees surrounded Jisung’s car. You were huddled in the backseat– together like you always had been and always will be– giggling uncontrollably with a stolen blunt in between his slender fingers. Jisung liked you best when you laughed. When you didn’t hold back the cheerful shifts of your face, when you didn’t cover your mouth to withhold your precious laughter.

Jisung held the blunt to your plush lips, raising a dark eyebrow to signal you to inhale the burning plant. You giggled one final time, placing your hand atop his knee as you leaned in, red-tinted pout wrapping around it. Jisung tried to look away from your lips but he was only met with the sight of your hazy eyes and heavy lids blinking up at him. You inhaled deeply, fingers pushing into his knee as you pulled away. Your fingers pushed into his leg as you held the smoke in your lungs, releasing a slow, teasing stream into his face. Jisung coughed, waving his hand in front of his face as you continued to laugh, face still close to his.

He wanted to kiss you so badly. You looked ethereal under the faint stereo light, a golden cast lighting one side of your pretty face as the other was painted with a starry blue hue. It was quiet aside from the instrumental buzz of Jisung’s playlist and the sizzle of burning bud. Then, Jisung’s breath as his heart began to thump. The longer he stared at your mouth the more his lips craved to touch yours that hovered so closely.

Before he knew it, his lips pressed against yours. It was nothing more than a fleeting peck, a graze of pouty lips against one another. Still, Jisung felt his heart flip, the drug-induced weightlessness flowing through his body made worse by his vibrating lips.

He couldn’t pinpoint the expression on your face when he finally managed to open his eyes but Jisung swears your eyes were conveying the same burning lust as his. What else could it be?

Cupping your face, Jisung pulled you flush to his puckered lips. He savored the feeling of your soft lips against his, every dry crack, and tasting remnants of strawberry lip balm. You had gifted Jisung the extra that came in the pack of two, playfully pinching his lips as you handed it to him. You need it, you’d said. You go around kissing girls like that? Jisung only laughed, keeping his head in place for you to hold for as long as you wanted. He never used it, leaving it in the center console for you to use when you got in his car as if you owned it, like everything that was his was yours. Jisung liked seeing the way you applied it, carefully circling your mouth with precision.

Jisung’s tongue carefully flicked your lip, thumb brushing your cheek as he did so. He still felt your hand on his knee, so close yet so far from where he craved your touch.

He caught your tongue when you began to speak. Words Jisung will never hear were swallowed by his eager mouth that took the opportunity to roam the inside of yours. He could taste it all, saliva tainted with the flavor of weed and the unfinished package of gummy worms you had carelessly thrown behind you after Jisung offered you another hit.

He moaned against your lips as he moved his touch to your hips, desperation getting the best of him. He yanked on your sides until you rested on his thighs, warm and soft and weighted. His hands roamed your sides, slipping up and down your frame as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling experimentally. Jisung whined, pleased with the sharp pain.

The sound seemed to take you out of whatever mindset you were in as you began to pull away from his kiss. Jisung, however, couldn’t get himself to stop. His lips traveled along your jaw and down the line of your neck, licking away the salty sweat caused by the heater Jisung had forgotten to turn off. He moaned against you, nosing at the wet kisses he left behind, hoping that by inhaling deep enough, he could smell himself on your skin.

You whimpered when Jisung nibbled on your collarbone. Your hands found his hair again, “Ji…”

Jisung shivered, cock slowly filling with blood after hearing the shake in your voice. Unable to control himself, Jisung sank his teeth into the side of your throat.

You jumped, pulling away from him. “Ouch,” you frowned, delicate fingertips ghosting over the area.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he breathed. Your lips were puffy and Jisung felt his dick pulse. “C’mere,” he mumbled, running his fingers along the hem of your shirt.

You placed your hands on his, “I don’t think this is a good idea…”

Jisung hummed, leaning in until his nose touched your chest, “yes, it is. C’mon, baby.” He inhaled your scent, “kiss me just a little bit.”

“No,” you squirmed, “we’re friends, Ji.”

“Friends like us kiss,” he reasoned absentmindedly. “Friends like us kiss and touch each other,” his touch slipped under your top, “make each other feel good. Make me feel better… I’ve waited so long.”

Jisung’s fingers reached the wire of your bra, pulling it up so he could slip his hand underneath. He cupped your breasts, groaning while pushing his face deeper into your chest, “so long.”

You shivered, “stop.”

Jisung didn’t, instead, he pulled your shirt up and over your tits, yanking on your bra until it stretched above your chest. Jisung finally opened his eyes, shaking his hair from his face as he stared at the swells of your chest, watching your nipples harden, aimed at his mouth like they were asking him to kiss and suck and pinch.

You gasped as his warm mouth wrapped around one of the stiffened buds, gently sucking. You weakly pushed at his shoulder, “too far… this is too far.”

Jisung felt his pants tighten further, cock straining in his underwear. You writhed on his lap, unsure if you wanted to pull your chest away from his lips or press yourself against his pretty face.

He pulled on the string of his sweats, untying the loose fabric and pushing it down his thighs hurriedly. “No,” he said, leaving a wet kiss on the valley between your tits while his fingers crept closer to your skirt, “not too far. It’s not too far. It’s okay, okay?”

You jolted, recoiling at the sensation of his dripping head against your clothed folds. “No! Too far. Let me go.”

Jisung made a sound, pained and slightly hurt by your resistance. “I can’t. I need you. Look…” You didn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t face the dim sight of Jisung’s cock standing tall against his toned stomach, leaking and ready to push inside your velvet walls as his eager fingers worked to push your thin panties to the side, exposing you to the warm air.

You shook your head, weak from the marijuana coursing through your veins. “I’m not ready,” you whimpered.

Jisung hadn’t thought much about the comment at the time, too focused on aligning his cock to your hole. You were too sensitive, dripping from brief nipple stimulation. You clung to Jisung as he pushed inside you, tense and shaking your head against his long hair, whimpering. You hissed, nails pushing into his shirt, mumbling in pain. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to care, too entranced by the tight squeeze around his dick, your body pressed against his, your searing breath, whimpers, and whines brushing past his ear.

Jisung should have known. A part of him feels guilty, but another feels smug, proud, and satisfied knowing that he was the first to defile you. Tucked into the backseat of his car, warm, high, and loving.

He hoped you could feel it. The love in the help he offered as he made you ride him, the love in every thrust when he couldn’t take the slow pace and he laid you down, fixing your messy hair until it left your pretty face. Your wet face. Jisung told himself it was sweat that covered it. It was tears from feeling too good. Tears of joy. Anything but what he knew it was.

Though, none of that mattered now.

Now you stood in front of him, a fiery film over your devastated gaze. You crossed your arms over your chest, holding onto your shoulders, concealing yourself. Your hair was out of place, your face was devoid of makeup and weighed down by dark circles, and your lips were bitten raw. The same lips that wrapped around every syllable of the statement Jisung can’t get himself to believe.

I didn’t want you.

Jisung chuckled, the noise devoid of amusement. “Sure, you didn’t.”

Jisung watched your chest inflate as you inhaled, glancing at the wall behind his head and avoiding his eyes as they looked for yours. “I told you I wasn’t ready. You just took it from me.”

Jisung paused. It. You couldn’t even say the word of what he had claimed. Not taken. Claimed. It had always belonged to Jisung. Your virginity. Your innocence. Purity. Whatever you wanted to call it. It all meant the same thing. Jisung had gotten the prize he craved for years, shooting his spent into your clean cunt, cream reaching far inside you, filled to the brim with him. Your precious cunt had received him so well, too. Your body knew what your mind didn’t. You wanted him.

“I know that’s what you said, but-”

Your eyes snapped towards him, looking at Jisung incredulously. “So you did hear me? You just chose to ignore me? To…” you paused, the roll of an “r” dying on your tongue. “You chose to take advantage of me?”

Jisung frowned.

Your lips wobbled, “I was scared.”

“Maybe at first.”

“Excuse me?”

Jisung sighed, “you creamed around me, baby. You squeezed me so tight I could hardly move. You cried for me. Milked me dry.” Jisung licked his lips, the memory flashing behind his eyes as he blinked, “you wanted me.”

Your lips parted, closed, then parted again. Jisung could see the way your brain turned as you looked at him, but again, he couldn’t figure out what thoughts went through your mind.

Jisung took slow steps towards you, wood creaking beneath his feet, “I know you still think about it.” He reached for your face, “how good it felt to be so full.”

You turned your face, removing Jisung’s touch. He reached for your hair instead, pushing it over your shoulder. “My cock fit inside you perfectly, didn’t it?” he tilted his head, slowly inching close to the crook of your neck, nose brushing against the surface. Jisung inhaled deeply, your scent made his eyes flutter shut. Your damp skin dripping with the smell of your sweet musk and body wash.

You said nothing, breath hitching as Jisung’s tongue flattened against your neck, licking. You squirmed, raising your shoulder towards the side of your face, hands ghosting over his chest, but your intention was clear. “Jisung, please.”

Glancing away from you, Jisung huffed. His eyes found the pictures lining your walls, stagnant memories framed for all to see. Most of them featured Jisung. His favorite picture was meticulously arranged in the middle – Jisung’s doing, of course – the first picture to capture the attention of all who observed the crowded wall.

Jisung’s arms were wrapped around your middle, his head rested on your shoulder. His hair was longer then, tangled with yours as the wind blew ruthlessly. Jisung remembered how cold it was, the ocean sending cold air in waves that made bumps rise along your skin. Your smile was as wide as his, eyes bright and beaming as you looked into the camera.

“I love you.”

Jisung kept his eyes on the picture as he waited.

“I do, too, Jisung.”

“No,” he shook his head. He faced you, cradling your face between his hands again. “I love you.”

“Jisung,” Your shoulders sag, your gaze dropping to the floor, “please don’t make me say it.”

“Then don’t.” A lump rose to Jisung’s throat, “Don’t. Because you do.”

“I don’t,” you whispered, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. “I’m sorry but I don’t.”

Jisung felt his heart drop, “you do. I can prove it.”

His plump lips moved towards yours, his hold on your face lifting it. Your lips wobbled as he inched closer, scorching breath fanning his face, “please, don’t do this again.”

The words made Jisung pause. You knew his intentions. The act of love was on your mind too. Only now, Jisung knew it wasn’t in the way he would have hoped. What was a tarnished memory in your mind was one close to perfection in his. Your mind still betrayed you, telling you that none of this was supposed to happen. Jisung was meant to sit on the sidelines, watching as you stomped all over his heart until his last dying breath because you were unable to see what was there. The comforting and magnetic air that flowed between you and him, uniting you.

Jisung had only done something about it. It was unintentional, truly. Jisung hadn’t meant for any of it to happen but it still had. Everything worked in favor of your unbreakable bond. Your bodies had fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for one another. Jisung would be damned if he let that get away. Especially now when it was inevitable that you would never want to see him again. You already told him so. What you and Jisung had would be thrown away, discarded like none of it ever mattered.

Jisung had to show you how great it would be. No matter what lengths he had to go through to do it.

He had never thought of hurting you before. He never wanted to. But a sick part of his mind knew he had to. His body moved on autopilot like he subconsciously knew what he had to do. He was capable of what he never thought was possible.

Unlike the first time, the kiss Jisung placed on your lips was anything but gentle. His insatiable hunger led his lips as they moved against yours. He pushed himself against you, trailing his fingers down your shoulders. Your teeth clashed with his, desperation consuming him as he grazed your tits. His tongue slithered into your mouth, running across your teeth as his hands cupped your chest. Your mouth fell open as you gasped, giving Jisung access. His pink muscle slid against yours, the sensation making you recoil as you attempted to get away. A small whimper sounded through the room when your head thudded against the wall behind your head. Jisung chased your mouth, a moan muffled by your connected lips.

Jisung sank his teeth into your lower lip as he pulled away, moving his attention to your neck. “Jisung, please. We can talk about it,” your words were shaky and he felt the hitch in your throat under his lips.

“We already did,” he sighed, leaving pecks on your throat. “You won’t listen.”

“I will!” you said. “I promise I will! I’ll hear you out this time just please,” you flinched as Jisung groped your breasts, “don’t touch me again.”

“You won’t understand,” he mumbled, nosing at your shoulder, “but your body knows.”

His touch inched toward your pants, pulling the elastic as he slipped his hands inside. Your cunt was as warm as he remembered, soft and puffy against his palm as the pads of his digits dragged along your slit. Sticky wetness leaked from your hole. Jisung groaned deeply, nibbling at your clothed shoulder, “you’re so wet for me.”

You sniffled, thighs pressing together as he tried to insert a long finger. You shook your head, the action ruffling his hair. Jisung moved his knee, lodging it between yours. Your legs opened, giving him the freedom to move his hands the way he pleased. Your hole fluttered against his knuckle as he shoved it inside you, your gummy walls sucking him in.

“That hurts, Ji, please,” your chest heaved with every word.

“I know,” he whispered, “but I have to stretch you out first. You’ll be okay, my love, I promise.”

Jisung sucked on your neck as he inserted another finger, using light nibbles to distract you from the stretch in your core. He slid them in and out, pulling them apart to stretch you further. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, sucking him deeper. Jisung felt his cock jump against his pants, reminding him of the fire in his stomach and the desperation to feel you squeezing his hard dick.

Your sweatpants fell off easily, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Jisung was quick with his pants, shoving them down his thighs just as he had the first time, only this time, they also fell to the ground, his belt buckle loud against the wooden floor.

He caught your eyes, seeing the way they widened as he pumped his cock, his intention clear in his features as he watched you. Resistance followed, pushes and squirms against him only serving to make him harder. Your chest rubbed against his, fabric still between you but Jisung didn’t care. Your pelvis curved forward in an attempt to push him away but instead, your bare cunt slid along his shaft.

Jisung hissed, gripping your hips with one of his hands, pushing you into the wall behind you. His cock dripped with precum, the substance allowing Jisung’s fist to easily glide up and down his length.

Eager, he guided his cock towards your heat, using his leaking head to circle your swollen clit. A moan wrestled its way out of your throat, your arms stopping their flailing as he pushed his cock between your folds, quickly finding your fluttering hole that called for him.

“Stop it,” you said, attempting to sound firm but your voice still shook.

Jisung simply shook his head, forcing the head of his cock inside you. He moaned loudly, bliss surging through his being with every inch he pushed into you. You cried out, the muscles of your thighs shaking in exertion around his hips. He kissed your neck again, biting harshly as he began to thrust in and out.

Your fighting picked up, punches and scratches landing on his back but they all went ignored as Jisung lost himself in the feeling he had missed and craved so deeply. Your head banged against the wall in frustration, and helplessness as Jisung rutted into you. The sounds that left his mouth were animalistic, his mental clarity making the euphoric squeeze even better.

Jisung couldn’t resist nosing at the sore flesh that you scrubbed raw the second you stepped into your apartment again. Despair and frustration fueled the aggressive drags of a washcloth along your skin. The scent had begun to fade, melting into the aroma of natural musk and slight neglect. Jisung relished in it, unknowingly making his thrusts pick up speed.

Finally, your body seized beneath him, the muscles along your body tightening. Your legs finally stopped kicking, your nails dragging across his back until they fell limp at your sides. Jisung lifted his face, hips stilling as he leaned towards you until his nose touched yours. “Keep cumming sweet girl,” He grinned, eyes fixed on your face. “See?”

#tw noncon #tw marijuana #tw skin picking #screenplay…#starring... jisung !#jisung x reader #jisung smut #nct x reader #nct smut #dark!jisung #dark!nct #dark!kpop #yandere!jisung #yandere!kpop #nct #nct dream #jisung

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christinebloodwrittings · 1 month

Text

To hunt or be hunted #2

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer

Summary: Strong statements from the "feared" king of hell, deadly oversights, cute duck-shaped cupcakes and the forgotten terror that lives beneath the hotel enjoying a certain demon's broadcast.

Warnings: Self loathing, a bit of a scare, nothing else I can think of.

Taglist: open...

The crowd, and 102 notes have spoken. Funny enough, things I consider drabbles blow up, and stuff that I like and post stays forgotten, anyways that's life. Feedback is always appreciated btw.

For the ppl that voted One-shot, my request box is open if you guys want to drop something Hazbin related.

Charlie had habilitated a back door for the kitchen, heading to the street, so that groceries and the kitchen supplies that you order could arrive unnoticed and would not bother her guests. Also for you to come and go as you may see fit without drawing, as she called it, ‘Unwanted attention’.

Of course she wasn’t thinking of the swarm of questions that may come your way, but more like if they found out, she would have to break the little image she had worked on all this years, the controlled, nice and loving princess everyone knew; to show a bit of the real menace she can be. She hated exercising her authority over others because of what happened with you, it felt wrong and invasive, so she never wanted to re-enter the same void she had fell through when her mother left.

She still used a more severe tone when addressing to you and her orders, or as she calls them ‘mandatory suggestions’, orders nonetheless, and when she asks you for what you’ve heard around town. She wants to keep up with what the people say about the hotel? Not entirely, she just likes gossip.

When either Angel Dust or Husk asked Charlie where did the food come from, she either said that she ordered it, or rely on the fact that sometimes Nifty cooked, per Alastor’s suggestion, but only when he wasn’t around to bring out the fact that she was lying.

Your ears perked up at some noise coming from the renovated parlor, usually it was just Alastor messing with the king of Hell, which made your eyes roll in annoyance given his lack of battle IQ, but the stubborn stag was mildly protected by the princess’s favor, without it, his head would hang on the king’s wall, probably as a coat rack. Now, that thought brought you a smile and a small laugh.

Later at night, when most demons were fast asleep, Angel Dust tiptoe his way inside the hotel, after a long session demanded by Valentino. He tried no to groan given the fatigue, and as he stretched backwards, making his back crack.

“What the fuck?” he muttered when a candle lit up on top of the new bar table, on top of it lied a plate with a medium rare cooked stake sided with homemade mash potatoes and some sauteed vegetables, next to it a glass of wine and silverware, along with a note that read:

“You failed to attend to dinner, saved you a plate. Enjoy”

He reluctantly took a bite, but after realizing that if it were spiked with anything he would’ve already died, given that drugs in hell had a fast effect when it comes to assassination, he enjoyed every last bit of it, making small moan sounds as he did. He also complimented the selection of the wine. You enjoyed the praises as you saw him eat.

As soon as he made his way back to his room, you took the plate and various items to give them a wash. The next day, Husk earned a kiss on the cheek without knowing what he did to deserve it.

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest when the guests liked your food, even more so when they expected anxiously what would it be for the next day, as you never really published the menu for the week, only the princess knew.

Given Angel’s constant praise, you started leaving protein shakes in his night stand before he woke up, always with a ‘Drink me for strength’ note, same with Vaggie when she started working out in the mornings. Charlie took your gesture and assured that she made them out of concern, which was well received by the rest, but not so much from her towards you.

“What did we talk about laying low?” she turned a bit demonic as she whispered harshly, “If you want to starve yourself to death, be my guest, but you made me the chef of the Hotel since day one, and no one inside this walls will die of malnourishment if I can help it” you well knew of the nasty habit the princess had towards food, by sometimes (often) forgetting to eat, or drive herself to an extent of stress, that she just dismissed breakfast or launch, even both on some occasions.

“Fine. On another subject, my dad will start living here, permanently. He’s Celiac, just so you know” Gluten allergy, that caught you off guard. You made a mental note to replace flours, rice and pastas into a non-glutinous option, same as your pastries for tea time from now on.

“About time you made peace with him” she shot you a warning look but didn’t correct you, “Yeah well, I’m happy about it, it took too long” for a while she felt that it was her fault for her parent’s split, as any child of divorce would begin to feel in the first period of the breakup. That feeling diminished, but hasn’t left her system entirely, no mater how much her girlfriend reassures her of the contrary.

“Arrange his room please, I left a few things lying around, but I have a session, so, can you handle it?” you nodded, satisfied with your answer, or rather lack thereof, she turned into her cheery self. “He left to pack up a few things from the castle, he’ll be back in a few hours, please don’t let him see you” with that last bit, she left the kitchen.

The king’s room wasn’t messy, Nifty wouldn’t allow it, so there were just a few items to place around, and a massive bed to put together, piece by piece no less. It was a Belphegor’s elite brand bed, no less, it had an insane amount of screws and parts, for someone known as the queen of Sloth, it took a serious amount of effort to put up with her products.

Took you two hours to set the whole thing up. Why did it take so long to put together a bed? because when you had it perfect, you noticed that you had three leftover screws, you weren't supposed to have leftover screws, so you disassembled it piece by piece until you found a place for the damn screws. The instructions were worse written than a menu in a Cantonese restaurant when the owner is obviously not Cantonese and wrote up the whole thing in google translate.

You took a big breath, satisfied with your work only when you put on the last blanket over the foot of the bed. “Weight blanket” you muttered with the fabric in between your fingers. Right in between the bedspread and the sheet there was a fairly heavy blanket, it lead to something obvious, two, either anxiety, or the king was missing his wife to the point he needed a weighted hug over him.

Your ears caught the sound of wings, he would arrive in no time.

You only had a millisecond to think, either run to the door and risk being seen, or put on the veil, jump out the window, but you were at penthouse level, that would probably leave you quadriplegic, on the other hand you transferred your tunnel system between the walls from the old hotel to the new one, you would just have to push the fake tile behind the bathroom door.

You ran out of time.

Still in your place, like a statue, you put the veil carefully over your body, this time without your eyes being able to be seen through.

The fallen angel dropped one single portfolio, the same blowing up into a swarm, no, a tsunami of rubber ducks, pieces of clothing, all ending up scattered all over the room, giving you an opportunity to make your way behind the bathroom door.

“Oh Charlie put together my bed? That ought to be a lot of work” he ended the sentence with a singsong tone before jumping onto the mattress. ‘That’s a shit ton of baloney, I bust my ass and the little devil gets credit for it? Fucking fantastic’ you mentally growled.

“Lily, if you could see her, she looks more like you every day” his voice cracked, “I wish…I wished I knew how to help. What could I possibly offer her? Advice? Experience? On what?! falling, being a constant disappointment? She did more things than you and I did in ten thousand years”

“I feel so useless” peeking over the door you saw the tiny king, wrapping himself in his six enormous wings. ‘Majestic’ you thought, after seeing millions of demons since you died, it was the first time you saw someone so beautiful. It made sense, he was indeed the prettiest angel God ever created, the best singer too.

How can someone like that, ethereal, could be troubled by things so…earth bound?

In an instant, he jumped out of bed, brushed up his hair a little, then walked out the door with the most fake smile you had ever seen. Boy you knew about fake smiles.

Later in the afternoon, around tea time, you changed up your regular flour for almond, it was definitely a different experience in terms of texture, but in terms of flavor, it could pass for regular flour, no one was going to notice.

Three types of cupcakes: Salted caramel, red velvet with vanilla stuffing, and cookie dough cupcakes shaped as ducky ones.

Alastor wasn’t a fan of sweets, so a mildly coffee infused cake with a caramel dressing with coarse salt on top, did the trick amazingly. Paired with a nice cup of Orange Pekoe tea to send him down memory lane. When you picked his plate up, there wasn’t a single crumb left.

The rest of the Hotel fancied your pastries, and loved sweets. Red velvet was a well-received classic, but it consisted of a vanilla flavored cake, and pair it with a filling of the same flavor might over do it. Instead, you added orange juice to the mix, the citrus smell with the sweet vanilla swirl on top were the sensation in the redemption session.

The only questionable thing about the mix was the berry tea that Charlie liked to drink during her sessions.

You baked small batches of cookie dough balls only a quarter of time, then poured the gluten free vanilla cupcake batter on top of it, keeping the cookie cooking at the bottom while you prepared the chocolate icing. When still warm you used a duck shaped scraper for the cake to take shape, then use the icing to make spikes, horns and little faces on them when it had cooled down a bit.

Why were you making special things for him? Pity? Empathy? Maybe both, but you were far too busy remembering the steps to the king’s room to bother.

All the ducks seemed organized, it definitely was the same mess, but perhaps there was some sense in his insanity. The plate was placed carefully in his night stand, along with a saucer and the tea cup filled with chamomile tea.

“Stop, freeze right there” you were about to place the hand written card when the distorted voice of the king froze your nerves in place, good thing that you were wearing the veil.

“Riddle me this, I’m connected to your every step, but I’m not your shoe. What am I?” he was near but stayed right in your blind spot, as he walked towards you. “Answer” his voiced sent chills down your spine, made your teeth sharpen as well as your claws, and your ears perk up defensively.

“You’re a shadow” your answer brought in him a subtle laugh, “Even through that shield of yours, dear, you cast a shadow, I saw a glimpse of it make it’s escape through the bathroom” was it that simple? Did anyone else in the Hotel had been as perceptive as him, no they would’ve ask Charlie or Alastor about it.

“So? How long have you been lurking in the Hotel?” walking past you, he brought up the tea cup to his lips, making a grimace, “Drink it, you look either sick, or worse, anemic, you’re three tones paler than your daughter” he shrugged, apparently aware of his state.

“I believe I asked you a question” his eyes shifted colors, just like Charlie’s, “None of your beeswax” you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to, “I’m your King” the little heavy step he did was hilarious, but laughing would’ve get you killed.

“So what?” he widened his eyes at your boldness, dismissing it entirely after a laugh, “Mm, how about you answer my question and then I might consider letting you go?” his boot was on the edge on the veil, one move and he would see you, “How about you stop being a bull on me and enjoy my cookin’?” he took a moment to actually see the cupcakes, a tender smile drawn on his face.

When he looked back at where you where, all he saw was the veil falling gracefully to the ground, likewise it dissolved into the air.

“I fucked up” your heart throbbed painfully in your ear; the rush was real.

Your room was underneath the Hotel, a system of catacombs led to different fates to those stupid enough to enter, only you and the princess knew of the correct way. The space wide consisted of black brick walls, a twin size bed placed on the corner, a wooden wardrobe, the rustic eighteen hundreds themed bathroom, and a set of seven iron candle holders screwed to the wall.

“Good afternoon Hell!” Alastor’s voice became present through the radio you kept on your night stand, “I’m in a jolly mood on this occasion, a well baked pastry would put a smile on anyone, even in the crankiest demon in hell” he laughed, then continued on topics from a simpler time, then the screams of his new victim.

You rested your tachycardia on your bed, focusing on your breathing and Alastor’s voice, to make your heart slow down to a normal pace.

“Thank you for listening, it was a pleasure to entertain you. Now, a small request from a friend in between the walls, I hope you enjoy this one, dear” he placed the dusted vinyl on the player, allowing it to roll one of your most liked songs, Cuban Moon by Carl Fenton’s Orchestra.

Slang, jazz, the demoness that haunted Alastor’s brain was definitely from his timeline, probably the same state he lived in. But what really itched his brain, was the axe. “It’s an unorthodox method to kill someone, the blade loses its edge quickly and it would require a brutal force to cut through bones…unless” he pondered over an open binder with pieces of old newspaper that fell with him, parts of the news were about him, but the front page was about someone else.

The next day, Lucifer walked fast down the stairs, grabbed Charlie by her shoulders and demanded, “Who is she? The demon living in the walls?”.

Your note for Lucifer read the following: "Someone who swore to love you through sickness and health, and still left, is not worth your tears."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Baloney: same as nonsense or bullshit

None of your beeswax: Slang for 'none of your business'

Bull: Slang for police-man

Stay tuned ;3 Part 3

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zepskies · 8 months

Note

Hey loved your Sam having a crush on Dean's gf! I was wondering if I could request the flipped version where Dean has a crush on Sam's gf 😏😏

Oh my God, hun! 🫢

The way I didn't even contemplate this!! But it's so delicious...

(And thank you for reading that Dean imagine! It was angsty, but oh so fun. 😘)

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Word Count: 1,300

Imagine: Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean hates this. He hates it more than anything.

He hates the look of you, all soft curves and smiles that brighten your eyes. Your hair looks even softer.

(He wants to tangle his fingers in it, tight, until your voice echoes in his ear.)

He hates that you bake cookies on Saturdays. (He also hates that you're learning how to make pies, just because he mentioned off-handedly that you should try. If your snickerdoodles are this good, he can only imagine what you could do with some cherry filling.)

He hates that you greet him, every morning, without fail, with a hand on his shoulder and asking how he's slept. (Even better if you'd joined me, he thinks.)

And then his mind gets truly creative, imagining all the ways he could make you lose sleep. All the ways his hands and tongue could get creative, tracing the contours of your body.

He hates all of that too.

But what he hates most of all?

That you're Sammy's girl.

Sam's known you longer, since college. The two of you reconnected after the second apocalypse diverted. Or was it the third one? Dean's lost count at this point.

So you're smart. Sam studied Latin, but you studied Greek and Spanish, and even symbology. You consider yourself a linguist -- a fact that had Dean grinning from the moment he met you...

But as many times as he made you blush and smile with his charm and a well-placed joke, it was Sam who hooked you with one of his dimpled smiles and asking you for help on a case.

You'd agreed, for him. The two of you bonded over your nerddom, with heads bowed over ancient texts and shared personal history, and Dean tried not to feel like an outsider.

And yet, even when you fell for his brother. Even when you moved into the bunker, taking up his counter space with your ridiculous baking appliances. Even when you doted and touched and kissed and promised Sam more with your eyes, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance.

So Dean backed off. He made excuses not to be around you and Sam when it got too much for him. Had to ignore the way his stomach churned (and maybe his heart clenched too).

...Until his chance comes. He sees it.

He's also a bit drunk.

"Aw, Dean. You okay?" you ask, picking up a large, empty bottle of whiskey by his hand, which still holds a fifth of a glass.

"Oh, I'm good," he replies, raising his brows with a smile. "I'm real good."

You snort with a laugh. He smirks at the sound; he would never admit it, but a small part inside him always swells with warmth when he makes you laugh.

You bring him a glass of water with just a few cubes of ice. You know he doesn't like it packed to the top. "Drink this."

"What's the magic word?" Dean teases, even as you take the glass tumbler out of his hand.

You then sit next to him at the kitchen table and offer him a wry smile, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow rests on the table. "Please, will you hydrate yourself?"

"Already did," Dean remarks.

"Dean," you say, more seriously gesturing to the water. "Please."

He hesitates. But seeing your face, he finally rolls his eyes and dutifully sips at the tall glass of water.

You reach out for his shoulder. His inebriated gaze is drawn to your hand, the smooth skin of your arm, and back to your face that shows soft concern.

"You don't drink like this unless something's on your mind," you say.

Dean falters. When did you get to know him so well?

"What, a man can't drink alone anymore?" he says wryly.

"He can, but he's gonna have to spill his guts sooner or later," you smirk. Dean grimaces at the image. Suddenly the Jameson sloshing around in his gut doesn't feel all that nice. But the longer he looks at you, the worse he feels.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know," he says. He gestures, with the hand that holds his glass, up at his head. "'S not for newcomers."

"Yeah, but I'm not a newcomer, am I?" you quip.

Dean can't help it. He stares at your face. Your damn perfect face. Perfect for him.

His heart clenches with the pain of guilt. With thoughts he shouldn't have. How he'd rather slit his own wrists than hurt his little brother. Not like this, for fuck's sake.

But Dean's got a problem. It's eating him down to the bone.

He wants you. He really wants you. More than he's wanted anything in so long...

"You really wanna know?" Dean asks. His voice is both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze falls to your lips.

For your part, you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyes widen, and your body's frozen, suspended in time.

You stare back at Dean's handsome face, overgrown with stubble, like he’s forgotten to shave. And you finally know what he's been hiding for the past few months. Why he sometimes ducks out when it's supposed to be the three of you, hanging out, watching a movie, sharing a pizza, being friends and family all at once.

You sometimes thought Dean had something against you, no matter how many times Sam has said, "That's not it." With one of those pensive looks on his face.

Like he knows something you don't, and just doesn't want to speak it into existence.

But then, Sam would distract you with his hand stroking your cheek. A kiss to your lips, sweet, but with urgency. You like that about Sam. You even love that about him -- how he can be both kind and considerate, but passionate in his affections.

But now, you stare at the eldest Winchester's face. You don't even know what you're thinking.

Dean sees the blush staining your cheeks.

He leans in, slowly. He’s mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really are.

He hears your shallow breath. His eyes flick up to yours, briefly capturing you again. You smell whiskey on him, but it doesn't completely drown out his cologne. His Deanness.

You can feel your face heating up further, down to your neck. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Tell me no," Dean says. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

"Dean, what..." you whisper. But that's not a no.

Still, he can't. He just can't do it. Not to Sam.

Dean just reaches out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realizes then that he loves you. He loves you enough to let you go, if he has to.

"It comes down to this," Dean says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire. You can see it in his eyes. He sees the conflict in yours.

He swallows. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, but he uses every ounce of self-restraint he has left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he says. And he pulls away, leaving you there at the table.

Dean doesn't know it, but your heart is about to burst just like his. What the hell! How could he do that? Why...

But you realize then, holding a hand to your wildly beating, guilt-ridden, confused heart.

You never told him no.

AN: I love Sam, don't get me wrong. But because I'm unequivocally a Dean girl, I had to leave it a bit ambiguous. 😏

Read the Sequel!

Here's the requested sequel to this, in which you have to make a choice (contains both Sam and Dean endings):

Imagine: Choosing him.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @syrma-sensei @fabimaou @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean gives you an impossible choice #dean in love with sams girlfriend #unrequited love?#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam and dean #angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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mx-your-name · 27 days

Text

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.

#hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #Hazbin hotel x goddess!reader #Yandere Hazbin hotel x goddess!reader #yandere adam x reader #adam x reader #goddess reader x adam #goddess!reader #goddess reader #x reader #possessive Adam #the dickmaster #the first man

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notyourhetloki · 9 months

Text

Ken's NSFW Alphabet

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Reader/

A/N: You know what? I ALWAYS wanted to make one of these... I literally have no excuse for it I just need him carnally ok pls don't judge me NSFW Alphabet originally found here.

Warnings: this Ken has genitals lol, top!Ken, lots of sex talk, no images just text, very explicit!

—

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I think Ken would be a very caring lover, making sure you had everything you needed and that includes aftercare! He would draw a trail of kisses down your body to your legs, massaging them while asking if you're ok, then would take you in his arms and keep you there for all the time you needed. Ken would even clean you up if necessary, joining you in a nice shower, combing your hair... Yeah, he's the KING of aftercare!

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think Ken really like his arms, they're amazing to show off his muscles and strength and even better for carrying you around!

And his favorite part about you is definitely your beautiful face! But most especially, your lips. Ken loves when you kiss him all over his body, it never fails to make him shiver.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically...)

Well, because he's a doll, I don't believe there would be a risk of diseases or pregnancy (particularly if you live in Barbieland/are a doll as well) so… yeah he would cum inside you pretty much every time. The feeling of you around him while he cums is intoxicating enough, but he would make exceptions for when you asked him to cum over your face… that vision was also fantastic.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ken has a very big fantasy of fucking you while he wears his mink, or seeing you suck him off while he wears it… anyway, he wants to wear the mink!! But he feels a little silly about it…

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, I don't think he had any experience, really. He knew about sex from the media he consumed (he even read a few books on it, out of curiosity) but sex was not really a priority especially in Barbieland. That is until he visited the Real World and you showed up...

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Cowgirl/boy. Ken loves to have you on top, seeing you bounce on top of him while he grabs your waist is SUCH a turn-on. And that way you also could control the pace... yeah, he adores it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends... are you making love after a whole day spent together? Yeah, he could be goofy, wanting to see you laugh at every opportunity he can. But are you fucking after spending the day apart, needy and desperate? No time for joking around.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a doll so I'm pretty sure he's just shaved down there... nothing really to be worried about!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Ken is so needy... so needy he would embrace you during the whole thing if he could. He's the type of guy who says "I love you" during sex, and he's ok with it! As long as you say it back... and you always say it back.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Masturbating was not really a thing dolls did, but he would do it occasionally out of curiosity. And after you came around, he couldn't help himself a few times... humping a pillow before sleep and dreaming about your body. Yeah, he masturbated quite a lot then, thinking about you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

PRAISE KINK this one's obvious… the guy could nut only from being praised if you took the time to do it. If you praise him during sex while looking him in the eyes, oh… his cock immediately twitches in anticipation. It's adorable, actually.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Because he's very jealous and protective of you, he only does it inside of your house (or his mojo dojo casa house) somewhere no one can see you, so yeah… not very adventurous in that aspect.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Besides the praise, just... being your boyfriend. Matching clothes with you, holding your hand... kissing you immediately turns him on, and being called names like "baby", "love", "blondie" makes him go wild. He just loves the attention and of course, loves when you're turned on as well.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I don't think Ken would enjoy rougher sex... don't get me wrong, he can definitely pick up a fast pace from time to time, but... ROUGH as in, slapping you, calling you names... nuh-uh, he don't likey. He hates the possibility of hurting you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ken honestly doesn't have a preference. He loooves eating you out/sucking you off and the praise that comes with it, making sure you finish so he can taste you. But oh, there's something just as endearing in the wet sounds you make while sucking him, the feeling of your lips tightly around his dick... oof! He loves both ways!

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At the very first time you had sex I think Ken would be slow and not really in rhythm, so overwhelmed by the sensation of being with you… So you'd have to take control and guide him. He would eventually get the hang of it, and the more confident he became, the faster he went. So yeah, when he's feeling sentimental he goes slow, taking his time with you. But if he's feeling confident, he likes to show off and fuck you raw.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's pretty neutral about quickies, I mean... Ken likes taking his sweet time with you, but if you're both feeling naughty and there's not really much time, he would definitely go for it!

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hmm, I would say he's not really into taking risks. Ken probably waits for you to suggest something before he suggests it himself. He doesn't want to scare you off or anything like that.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Baby, he's a DOLL... He can go as many times as you desire! LOL But oh, on the first few times you had sex, he didn't last very long... he was too overwhelmed but soon he felt better! Now he lasts a reaaally long time.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not sure if there are sex toys in Barbieland, but if yes, sure! He would definitely have a vibrator to use on you. Anything that helps you cum is a treasured tool for him, because getting you to cum is his top priority during sex!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Besides lasting for an absurd amount of time, he loooves to tease as well. Kissing and softly biting on your skin before slowly going down on you, looking up at you with puppy eyes while humming and moving his tongue around your sex... yeah, he's a tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fuck, Ken's loud. He learned to tone it down a bit by muffling his sounds with his hand, but he continues to be a loud moaner. He whines and groans a lot, too... calling your name while being super vocal. "Oh, my... yes. Yes, (Y/N). Please don't stop, ah..."

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Ken still gets emotional every time you make love, holding your face while kissing you deeply, your bodies moving in tandem feeling so good he could cry. He probably did cry the first time, but now he holds back trying to not seem too sappy.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants.)

I MEAN... hear me out. I think he's pretty damn hot, like... maybe around 7 inches? And like, girthy as well LOL He's a dooooll he has to have a pretty perfect dick, right??? (don't look at me)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again, not really high before you came around. Now he thinks about sex all the time, looking for excuses to be alone with you and get his hands all over your body.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ken would make sure you were fine (and had finished), do some aftercare if needed and then he would fall asleep rather quickly, rolling over into a little spoon so you could hold him. In your arms, he feels safe and sound.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x gn reader #ken x you #alphabet #barbie #ryan gosling #gender neutral #headcanon #imagine #self insert #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #notyourhetloki

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hotluncheddie · 1 year

Text

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 2

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

steve is at the diner with robin and eddie, after another mind numbing shift at the ol’ FV. thankfully, eddie came in a little while before close so the time went a lot quicker. steve might honestly tell him to come in even more because the clock just seems to become his best friend when eddies around; jumping nonsense off of robin, telling steve random shit about himself and laughing at all of steve jokes. (which his jokes deserve, of course, obviously. no matter what robin likes to say, knock knock is a classic set up.)

steve sat across from eddie and ordered his favourite milkshake, making eddie bat his eyelashes and make fun of steve. ‘milkshakes at a diner stevie? all you’re missing is the cheerleader and letterman.’ and steve rolled his eyes, about to let eddie know he still has his letterman and eddie can borrow it anytime. but robin had been sparked into talking about the most recent band drama that happened after the game the other night.

steve cared about the gossip, really he did. but eddie ordered fries and now yeah, sure, normal diner behaviour. however, eddie likes adding salt to his fries, like a lot of it. which means he’s constantly licking his fingers clean, like, thumb in his mouth, sucking. and that image is making a lot of very fun and interesting scenarios pop up in steves head. very fun, very cool scenarios.

so steve is distracted, playing with his whipped cream and cherry, half listening to eddie talk about hash browns but mostly just thinking about fingers, and mouths.

eddie, for some reason steve cannot fucking fathom, likes to pretend he’s not into steve, like they don’t flirt and like he doesn’t know steve is very much into eddie. steve knows what someone looks like when they’re into him and eddie is into steve. eddie just seems to have a mental block because no matter how much steve touches his arm or hair or tells him he has nice eyes, or like, flirts back at eddies initial flirting, eddie just gets bright red and changes the subject. it’s very cute. but dumb, because they could still do all that while also making some of those fun, pretty, fingers near mouths images a reality.

so, offence is the best defence as they say, defence being eddies self built cock block castle. but lucky for eddie steve is feeling pretty chivalrous so he’ll attempt to scale the castle walls again and hope some day soon eddie will just open the fucking door.

steve sticks his cherry in his mouth, pulls out the moves, ties the stem easy as pie and now, cherry on top, the wink.

gotcha. eddie saw the whole thing, beet red, soda up his nose. the moves never fail. steve did not plan for eddie to leave for the bathroom right after (hates to see him go, loves to watch him walk away) and has to deal with robin and her overprotectiveness when it come to eddie. but come on! he obviously liked it!

she knows steve likes eddie and wouldn’t be surprised if eddie talks to robin about steve. he would, if he was eddie. but she still more often than not gives steve a very pointed look if she feels he’s stepped over some invisible line she’s made up, like there some rule to how bisexual he’s allowed to be at certain moments of the day, particularly around eddie munson.

‘stop messing with him!’ she’s hissing but there’s a little smile on her face too.

‘i’m not! i’m just, presenting him with some facts, some info.’ steve rests his chin in his palm and mumbles quietly ‘not my fault he kept sucking on his damn fingers.’ aware that they are very much in public.

‘god, i am so sick of you both. you gotta talk to him steve, or stop, or something because i’m actually about to go back to doing puzzles with my nana on weekends if i have to deal with you two dancing around each other any longer.’

steve pouts ‘i love puzzles, and your nana, you cant go do that without me bob’s, that’s mean.’ robin groans and clunks her head on the table. ‘ughhh you are so weird! it astounds me every day that you used to be popular. people are so dumb.’

steve pats her head smiling. ‘yeah well good aim goes a long way.’ robin groans louder. ‘i’ll talk to him though, sir steven will break through those castle walls one way or another.’

robin lifts her head to squint at him, face of utter distain. ‘love you.’

‘love u too boobie.’

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 3 (eddie) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

@mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @gregre369

u asked for it :)

#steddie #steve x eddie #cocky steve #but also silly steve my love #bisexual steve harrington #is fun always #platonic stobin #<3 #hotlunch #will there be more? who knows #my fic #stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

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lastoneout · 6 months

Note

Okay, honest question, who is Yotsuba?

OH HO HO ANON I AM ALL TOO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :3

Yotsuba is a character from the greatest manga ever made, Yotsuba&!(or Yotsuba to! it translates weird, most fans just call it Yotsuba) which is a comedy slice-of-life manga about Yotsuba Koiwai, a five year old girl, and her very strange yet wholesome family and friends!

It's from the same mangaka who gave us Azumanga Daioh, though while that manga is told in a four-panel comic style and doesn't really have much of an overarching plot, Youtsuba is done in a traditional manga style and despite also being very episodic there is a bit of a throughline surrounding Youtsuba getting settled into the neighborhood she just moved to, growing up, and eventually, in the later chapters, getting ready to go to school for the first time. Also, there are storylines that take place over multiple chapters as well! Despite the fact that the manga has been releasing since 2003, the chapters are pretty sporadic and the comic has only really covered about one year of the character's lives, but it never really feels slow or aimless. It feels almost...timeless? I guess. It's really nice.

Anyway, the manga is legit one of the most wholesome, funny, heartwarming things I have ever read. Kiyohiko Azuma is a fucking MASTER of comedy(you may have seen screencaps from a Sailor Moon fan comic he made going around on tumblr in which Jupiter accidentally sends Venus shooting across a pool that made me laugh so hard I cried) and he balances it well with lots of slow moments with GORGEOUS artwork where you can really take in the scenery and all of it is seeped in a wonderful nostalgia for childhood that legit makes me super emotional.

I don't think the manga has ever really taken off in terms of popularity, at least not to the degree that it deserves imo, which is likely in part due to the creator being firm about it never getting an anime adaptation and the sporadic release schedule, but it's far from unknown. There's been an official(I think??) score released and plenty of figurines and merch. It's also birthed a lot of memes, and it def has the same issue as One Piece where if you read it and love it you will turn into a walking billboard and try to drag your friends and family in with you. It's just THAT good!

You may have seen art of or people cosplaying Danbo, a "robot" made of old cardboard boxes that Yotsuba adores (Totally a real robot btw, def doesn't have a middle schooler shoved inside there, that would be silly wdym /s)

And this pose from the back of one of the manga volumes featuring Yotsuba, her father, and their extremely tall friend Jumbo has been redrawn with other characters like 500000 billion times

And you've also probably seen this going around tumblr before (that's Fūka she's my favorite cringe fail daughter I would literally die for her).

Also, I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Yanda, who is a friend of Yotsuba's dad and also Yotsuba's nemesis. He's a loser who constantly gets dunked on by a toddler it's fucking hilarious.

But yeah it really is just like, a manga that feels like a hug, or a warm blanket or something, it's so comforting and funny and fantastic, I find myself re-reading it any time life gets to be too hard just bcs it's that good at distracting me and reminding me that live is worth living.

And also given that it's literally my favorite manga, I saved up a bunch of screencaps to use as reaction images after a read one time, and thus now it's my own little joke that if you send me anon hate I'm just gonna send you back a picture of this cutie

Bcs come on how can you be angry when you're looking at this???

Anyway here's some screencaps of the main supporting cast bcs I love all of them so much <3

YOU WILL READ YOTSUBA I AM NO LONGER ASKING

#Ask #Anonymous #long post #sorry anon you hit the yotsuba button #I am legally obligated to gush about it #yotsuba #yotsuba&!

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rewh0re · 5 months

Text

THE SOULMATE THEORY ; MIKAGE REO

- wc: 1.1k, aged up characters (like 19-20) doesn't dive into explicit/hardcore smut but is definitely suggestive in some parts so I'd say readers 16 and above may read this, indirect mentions of sexual activities, fluff, reader is called a minx (affectionate), a little bit of that one old greek myth about soulmates, it's true that once you use em dash you can't stop.

a/n: literally got the idea at the doctor's office don't even. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!! also tagging: @chigirizzz (this is that one reo fic I was telling you about where you asked me to tag you)

The room was dark. The only source of light—though bright but not enough to light up the whole room—was from the digital clock on the bedside table. '12:42,’ it read in bright neon red numbers. It was also quiet, so much so that two pairs of steady breathings could be heard.

One belonged to Reo and the other, to you.

"Are you asleep?" You whisper—soft and delicate—careful as to not wake your lover up if he indeed was asleep but loud enough to let him know of your own sleepless state.

Your eyes have been long adjusted to the darkness and you can make out the silhouette of his face. The length of his nose and his eyelashes, the slight part of his lush lips, his sharp and angular jaw—truly—he was majestic.

"No," his eyes fluttered open and his lips turned upward. His smile, the gentleness of which never failed to make your heart beat ten times faster, which never failed to make your stomach feel all giddy with the butterflies that erupted.

"I was thinking about your face from earlier and the various sounds you made too actually. Sweet as honey to me but I'm afraid Mrs. Tanaka might complain come morning," gentle tone was overruled by mischief. That was Mikage Reo, a gem of a person for a second and a force to be reckoned with the next.

"Please don't oh my god," you covered your face—now tinted with embarrassment—with the comforter you and Reo shared as you whined in protest.

The activities from an hour back rushing into your brain, playing like a movie sequence. As foggy as your mind was earlier, you were surprised that you remembered everything so vividly. You could still feel his rough, calloused and much larger hands tracing every curve of your body as if to memorise its shape. You could feel the lingering kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your chest, the now purple marks left with pride. You would have to cover them before work in the morning. You could hear your own sounds of pleasure and his groans as if to say more, more, more. You could feel it all. You could feel him. Your face flushed a deeper shade of fuchsia as you gulped, trying to get the images out of your head.

"You act like we haven't done this a million times before my love," he laughed slowly, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

"Come on, look at me. Don't shy away now," he pulled the blanket off of you, removing your hands from your face as he hugged you.

"You're incorrigible, you know that right?" You huffed out in faux annoyance, snuggling against his chest, his arms a veil for your figure.

He laughed then, a laugh full of mischief and adoration and something akin to acknowledgement for your previous statement.

You laid like that, in silence. There was peace that came with the soft lub-dub of your synchronised heartbeats and your gentle breaths.

You were the one to break it first.

"Have you ever heard about that one Greek mythology? about soulmates?" You spoke, your cool fingers tracing gentle and soothing shapes on Reo's bare back which was painted with scratches from your nails.

"Can't say I have. Care to tell me?" He looked for your eyes as he pulled up the slipping comforter before pulling you closer to his chest. His warmth engulfed you whole, a comfortable shield from the much cooler surroundings.

"Well there is this theory," you started, face softening into affection as you laid against Reo's—albeit hard—but comfortable chest.

"It says that when Zeus created humans, he originally created them with two of everything. So two heads, two pairs of both the limbs, you get it. Their souls were one too. Fearing the power that these humans could possess, Zeus split them, including their souls, in half and scattered them around the world. The humans—as we now know them to be—would search far and wide, across oceans and lands to look for their other half. It is said that this other half is your soulmate and you search for them throughout your life," you smiled as you looked up at him, engrossed in your little story.

"Well that's just cruel of Zeus now, isn't it? I mean, what if someone doesn't find their soulmate?" Reo pouted and that made you chuckle a little.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It is just a story at the end of the day and how you decide to perceive a story totally depends on you," you jabbed his chest with your finger.

"I think I've found my other half," he stated with pride.

"Oh? Is that so? I wonder who it could be," you made a face as if you were thinking, tapping your chin with your forefinger.

"Oh I bet you do," in an instant your boyfriend was hugging you tighter than ever, his face buried in the crook between your neck and your shoulder.

His soft kisses were ticklish and they made you giggle. Your fingers further messed up his already tousled hair.

"You want me to say it out loud so bad don't you, you little minx," he whispered in your neck as you hummed in response.

"I think I've found my soulmate in you."

"I also think I've found mine in you Reo," your gentle voice was like ambrosia to his ears. He could drown in it, a bit was never enough.

He trailed kisses down the side of your face, starting from your ear, going down your jaw and finally a little bite on your neck. He licked on it in order to soothe the area. A new addition to the marks he had left earlier.

"Ow Reo!" You playfully smacked his head which forced him to separate from your neck.

"I already have enough marks to cover!" You puffed your cheek, barely hiding the smile that was begging to come up to the surface.

"You'll beg for them again tomorrow," he winked at you.

You could only roll your eyes. What would you even say? Deep in your heart, even you knew that he was right. "What is wrong with you?"

"Just that I'm irrevocably in love with you," he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, shutting his eyes.

"Unfortunately, I happen to love you too."

Teasing glances from your coworkers and friends due to the remnants from the events of the night would be a concern for later. For now, sleep would come easy to you because here you were, with Reo, in his arms. He was your safe haven and you were his and truly, whatever in the world could ever change that?

#—storytelling🌙#bllk #blue lock #bllk reo #mikage reo #blue lock reo #reo x reader #mikage reo fluff #reo fluff #mikage reo x reader #reo x you #mikage reo x you #reo x y/n #mikage reo x y/n #reo imagine #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

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