#☼tell it to my heart

[wooziorgans]

1. through me || ljh

based off of this anon ask!

summary: after a particularly rough breakup, y/n has time to reevaluate his sexuality. and, well, you’ll never know if you never try; even if the guilt eats you alive.

pairing: idol!woozi x male soloist!reader

genre: best friends/roommates to ???fwb???

warnings: bi-curious reader. readers first time giving a blowjob. mutual blowjobs. soft dom jihoon but actually insane sub jihoon. praise kink. talking about sexuality. mentions of watching porn. implied bottom jihoon. mild homophobia. some internalized homophobia. reader has implied daddy issues. a bunch of svt members are queer in this. hardcore aftercare. slight given (anime) spoilers but not rlly. reader has a bad gag reflex. reader gags once. deepthroating. ass eating. rimming.

word count: 8.7k

masterlist | next

Your friendship with Jihoon was far different from all of the friendships you had with other people.  

Maybe it was the nature of your jobs; both of you were producers, you spent the most hours of the day writing songs and fucking around with the equipment in your respective studios to fine tune your work. Both of you were particular, neat, and to some, might appear downright odd in the way you functioned on a day to day basis. All of this being said, ever since you met Jihoon, neither of you had ever formed such a solid friendship with another person quite as quickly.

Seungkwan had quite literally ran into you on his way to Jihoon’s studio one afternoon five years ago. He recognized you from around the building, and after apologising profusely for ten minutes straight, he asked you to join him for drinks later that night with a few of his bandmates as a way to pay you back for your now Americano stained t-shirt. The one day you decide to wear a white shirt, and a coffee addict ruins it. 

“It’s fine, really. I have spare clothes in my studio. It’s really not a big deal.” You had said, laughing carefully at his obvious distress. You agreed to get food with him nonetheless, seeing as your friend circle was quite small since you had debuted as a soloist, and a self producing one at that. 

Jihoon didn’t join you for dinner that night, but he did meet you three weeks later in the hallway. You had greeted Seungkwan as you saw him in the hallway on the same floor he ran into you on. Rather excitedly, he waved back, pulling you down the hall with him. You and Seungkwan had ended up talking for hours at the dinner he invited you to, alongside other members of Seventeen. They had been so warm and welcoming, despite how hard it was for you to meet new people, and it was almost instantaneous how fast you clicked with all of them. 

You had, at this point, met almost all of the members; some briefly in passing, others more in depth, all with Seungkwan's help. The last remaining member was Jihoon, who you knew virtually nothing about other than that he also was a producer, and that Seungkwan said you would get along well. When Seungkwan pulled you into an unfamiliar studio, it was solidified. You ended up talking about music with Jihoon for hours, work abandoned on your desktop where you left it. 

Through Seungkwan, and subsequently Jihoon, you discovered that there was quite a large queer community inside of the K-Pop industry; one that you had found yourself in the middle of, despite having no attraction to men. 

That was until you had a rather big fight with a long term girlfriend over your best friend being gay. Jihoon liked to be upfront about his orientation, in case it was a deal breaker for any potential friendships, but seeing as you were being dragged around the Hybe building by Seungkwan, it was much easier for Jihoon to come out and tell you. 

It wasn’t an issue. You were a lot of things, but being like your father wasn’t one of them. You thanked him for telling you, but reassured him that it wouldn’t be an issue for you. It was an issue for your girlfriend though.

She didn’t like how much time you spent with a gay man; assumed that every single interaction with him was him trying to ‘convert’ you. It was ridiculous, but a persistent issue throughout your entire relationship. You tried to avoid conflict by not bringing her around Jihoon, trying to sweep the issue under the rug, until it all came to a head. 

Things had been tense in your relationship for a while, but one night while watching television with your girlfriend, the lead male actor had done some fan service and it left you feeling weird. Your girlfriend noticed the way your jaw tensed, and interrogated you until it suddenly blew up into a full blown argument. 

“So fucking what if I think other men are attractive? That doesn’t change the fact that I’m with you, or that I’m in love with you.” You had said, and that seemed to put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. 

“Oh my god. He has fucking converted you.” She hissed, and all the months of reassurance, years even, seemed to be all for nothing. She called you nearly every single name under the sun, while simultaneously making your best friend seem like someone who came straight from the fifth circle of hell. It was non-negotiable for you. Insulting someone who understood you better than anyone else, who would’ve never judged you for the fleeting thoughts you had about men… it was over the second she opened her mouth. 

Two years down the drain as you packed a bag and told her it was over, tears streaming down your face at the audacity she had to talk about Jihoon like that, but also for the wasted years  you spent with someone like that. Someone so vile and full of hatred.

The queer community, as you had learned, was far more accepting and understanding than the straight community. Jihoon was an extension of that. When you showed up at his door, crying and out of breath from trying to contain your anger towards your now ex-girlfriend, he pulled you into his apartment, holding you tightly as he rubbed circles on your back. He let you in for the night, offering the spare bedroom he had in case his parents came to visit. 

You didn’t say much that night, just told him it was over. You spared the details about the fight you had being about him. That would’ve upset him immensely, and you couldn’t deal with him being upset at the moment. You stayed the night, and then you never really left. 

With the freedom of being single, you began to find yourself staring at more men, none of them were your friends, except for Jihoon. You had told Seungkwan while drunk one night that if Jihoon was a woman, you would be head over heels in love with him. Seungkwan had laughed it off, but as your attraction toward men began to confuse you, he was the first person you went to for advice. 

He comforted you, cooing softly at your internal turmoil, trying to understand the best he could. Seugkwan offered advice when necessary in your conversation, but told you he wouldn’t be much help because he had always known that he was gay. If you really wanted advice, he had said, then your best bet was to talk to Vernon or Seungcheol about it. And so you did, though it took you three weeks to muster up the courage to text Seungcheol to talk about something ‘personal and kind of serious but not really.’

Seungcheol had been a very intimidating figure when you first met him, but he was the one who would text you to get drinks after work, and your friendship solidified quite quickly. You were close with Jihoon, and that was all he needed to like you enough to initiate a friendship. You shyly confessed to Seungcheol that you had been, in the time since your conversation with Seungkwan, having provocative dreams about men; omitting the detail that most of them were about Jihoon on all fours, something you were quite ashamed about.

It had been about seven months since your breakup when you had your conversation with Seungcheol, and you and Jihoon were roommates. Things like this could ruin any regular roommate dynamic, but you and Jihoon weren’t normal. Seungcheol listened to your internal struggles, and reassured you that it was normal to feel some confusion, that you didn’t have to have everything figured out right now, but that you were definitely bi-curious from what you had told him.

Putting a label on things gave you a little comfort.

You had been thinking about your conversation with Seungcheol, and subsequently what being bi-curious even meant, for a while before you brought it up to Jihoon, and seemingly out of nowhere. One night, in the downtime of a new action anime you had started watching, you asked him how he knew he was gay. All he did was raise an eyebrow before telling you. When he was finished he asked the dreaded question: why?

Yeah, why were you thinking about suddenly kissing boys? Women had been fine this far along into your life, so what changed? The easiest answer to that question was the man who had asked it. Jihoon was pretty, this was something that was an objective fact, and you’d always been drawn to pretty things. 

The issue was that you lived together. Normally when things got weird inside your head, you’d run from the problem. This time you couldn’t just run; moving out suddenly wasn’t an option, Jihoon would know something was up, and you couldn’t explain why you needed to leave without sounding like a big fat liar. 

You told him that you had talked to Seungcheol and Seungkwan separately, and that you thought you might be bi-curious. You told him you had started to think about one of your friends a little differently, excluding the fact that it was him. Jihoon comforted you, while softly scolding you for not telling him sooner, but reassured you that you could tell him anything and he’d help you the best he could. After your conversation with Jihoon, he resumed the anime you had been watching and held you close, making sure you were okay with it first, and things changed slightly after that.

So all you did was give in. Living together with someone who hates skinship as much as you do is strange because it’s a double negative. You both tend to stay away from other people, but somehow that cancels out. or maybe it’s just the Jihoon effect. Either way, living together had resulted in a nightly ritual of watching anime on the couch together. 

It was how both of you decompressed before you lived together, so it was something you started doing in each other's company. Obviously you didn’t start getting clingy right away, but each night the distance between the two of you would get smaller and smaller until you ended up resting your head on Jihoon’s chest one night when you were extra tired. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into him further. 

And so it became a thing. Shortly after, Jihoon started laying down with his head in your lap. This was your favourite way to lay, because it allowed you to play with his hair. 

Much like right now. Jihoon had never seen Given, and you were a little shocked to learn that. Not that all gay people need to consume all types of gay media, but for an anime buff as big as Jihoon, you were sure he had to have seen it, especially considering the plot. Jihoon was laying in your lap, long dark hair slotted in between your fingers. He preened like a cat when you massage a sensitive part of his scalp. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this.” You sigh, head leaning back against the couch. He hums softly, pushing his cheek against your thigh. 

“Not all gay people know every single piece of gay media.” He laughs quietly. On the screen, Mafuyu strums his guitar softly, glancing to Uenoyama for approval. “Is this why you wanted me to see this? Because he has a red Gibson hollow body?” Jihoon turns his head up to look up at you. You look away from the television to see his big, brown eyes shimmering softly in the low light of the evening. 

“No. It’s cute, and I think you’ll find the plot… decent enough.” You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. Jihoon just hums, turning his attention back to the show, and that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation for the time being. 

A few more episodes in, a flashback scene between Mafuyu and Yuki had your head tilting in curiosity. Jihoon must feel the shift of your neck, because he’s turning his head back up to you. 

“What’s up? Never seen softcore gay porn before?” He asks lightly. His tone is a little teasing, airy and careful around the subject. You’ve gotten to the point of being able to joke about it, even if your attraction to men is still quite sensitive. “I know you’re confused about things right now, but watching this kind of stuff with your gay best friend isn’t really gonna solve anything. You need to actually experience it.” He clicks his tongue softly, as though he’s unsure of what exactly to say next. 

You fill that decision for him by speaking next. “I’ve already seen the entire series, Jihoon. It’s not that, I just… I guess I’m a little curious about what it feels like. Not that I want to… um, not that I’m thinking about that stuff right now. I’m barely comfortable with the idea of touching a dick that isn’t mine.” You stumble over your words, blush creeping its way up your neck in the familiar way it always does with the subject. 

Jihoon laughs softly. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right? I thought we established that it was okay for you to ask questions.” His voice is still light, but it’s sincere. He wants you to know that you can trust him, and you do. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, like— I’m just not used to it. I know that I find guys pretty, but I think I’m having trouble imagining doing anything with them. I don’t know if I could.” Jihoon hums in acknowledgment, his hand carefully slides over your thigh in an attempt to soothe you. It doesn’t work. 

“Even if I sort of always knew, it was difficult to start doing anything. I mean, I lived with twelve other guys for all of my experimental teenage years. I didn’t really have the privacy or the time to experiment. We were new to the industry, I didn’t really have a foundation to start. But when I did, I took it slow.” Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your thigh through your sweatpants softly. “The first time I sucked dick, I threw up.” He laughs softly, and you follow. The image is amusing, but then you dwell on it for a second too long, and the image of Jihoon sucking your dick flashes briefly through your mind. 

You shift in your spot to get rid of it. It works. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to suck dick. That just seems like a lot.” You sigh softly. 

“How can you be sure if you’ve never even tried it?” Jihoon rolls over onto his back, head still in your lap as he looks up at you. You resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair in this position. “Thinking guys are pretty and actually doing things with them are two very different things. You don’t really strike me as the kind of guy to just start sucking dick, but you don’t have to do everything right away.” 

“I know, but isn’t it sort of expected? Like, women need foreplay, so isn’t some kind of foreplay needed with men too? Especially with… sex? Like you clearly have to stretch that shit open, and that’s a little scary.” You swallow hard. You know Jihoon’s watching your throat from the way his eyes follow the bob of your Adam's apple. 

“Well yeah, but I think if you explained your situation to someone they could take care of that at first. And you don’t need to bottom right away.” Jihoon pauses for a few seconds. “What about sucking dick is so scary?” He asks, voice a little softer. 

“All of it. Having something in my mouth.” Jihoon laughs softly. 

“Yeah. Your gag reflex is terrible.” He butts in. You laugh, though it’s a little strained. 

“What do I do if they cum in my mouth? Spit? I guess there’s also a little fear around not being good at it.” You exhale, and the illusion is broken. The one you carefully built up around Jihoon, even though he told you not to. The one that made him think you hadn’t actively been thinking about giving head instead of receiving it.

Jihoon sits up carefully. Your thighs miss the warmth of his head instantly. He’s looking right at you, big brown eyes somehow bigger than normal. “Have you ever tasted your own cum before?” He asks, and for a second you think, pray, that he’s joking, but he’s dead serious. 

“What?!” You ask, slightly exasperated. 

“I’m asking if you’ve ever tasted your own cum.” You stutter out syllables for a few seconds before finally gathering your thoughts to respond to him. 

“I- uh, yeah. Once. It got in my mouth by accident.” Jihoon hums, shifting a little closer to you. You know he’s not satisfied with your answer though. “It was really bitter.” He nods softly. 

“Was this before or after you moved in with me? If it’s before then it was probably your diet.” Somehow, Jihoon’s knowledge of fitness and sex always seemed to shock you. “You didn’t eat properly before you moved in with me. It should be a little sweeter now. Easier to swallow.” Something in his eyes shifts, and it’s dangerous. 

“Jihoon—” He cuts you off swiftly, not giving you the time to digest the double meaning of his words. 

“Do you think about kissing guys?” You nod weakly, shivering softly as his hand finds your lower thigh again. “Do you think you could kiss another guy?” Another weak nod. 

“I’ve kissed Seokmin before.” Jihoon laughs softly, ignoring your attempt to dissolve the tension. 

“I’ve kissed Seokmin. What about other guys? What about this friend you told me about?” He tilts his head, fingers ghosting up further on your thigh. At this point, you can already anticipate how the night is going to end, but you’d rather not focus on that right now. 

“Uh, yeah. Shouldn’t be too different from kissing women, right?” Jihoon nods curtly. 

“Right.” His fingers brush your inner thigh and you shiver softly. “All you need to do is find someone willing to help you out; let you try things in a judgement free environment.” Your cock twitches softly in your pants. 

“Finding someone is the problem.” You sigh, head lulling back against the couch. 

“You have me, though.” He almost purrs out. 

“Jihoon, I can’t—” You start before it's quickly shut down. 

“I know you’re curious. So do you want to try some things? You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/N.” You nod softly, eyes squeezing shut as his hand finally reaches the top of your thigh. “We’ll keep it lighthearted, yeah? As far as you want to go, we’ll go. You can’t fuck me tonight though. I might not be clean enough for that right now.” The mental image of being balls deep in Jihoon’s ass is enough to get your cock twitching softly. Your sweatpants do fuck all to hide the slow growth of your erection as his hand moves higher up to your hips. 

You cross your arms in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control. “Then can I kiss you?” You breathe out a shaky yes. “Uncross your arms, Y/N.” You do as he tells you, letting them fall to your sides. He shifts onto his knees, before he’s moving. 

“What are you— oh.” Jihoon pushes you back onto the couch softly, thick thighs straddling your legs as he sits down right on your lap. He laughs softly, gaze incredibly tender as he looks over your face, scanning for any discomfort. “Don’t look at me like that.” You laugh softly. 

“Like what?” He tilts his head again, hand creeping up your neck slowly. 

“Like that. With your eyes.” Jihoon throws his head back in a laugh, the air around you growing comfortable despite the nerves boiling in your stomach. His pale neck is on full display, and you briefly wonder what it would look like covered in hickeys. 

“Shut up. I’m trying to kiss you, and you’re pulling this shit.” He sighs out another laugh, his other hand running up your arm. His fingers play with the hair at the nape of your neck. 

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.” You breathe out, hands carefully moving to hold his waist. Your thumb rests on his hip bone, or where it should be. The fabric of his sweater makes it hard to pinpoint exactly where it is. 

“I know. That’s okay. If you want to stop, just tell me, but I’m a good kisser so you don’t have to worry about that.” His thumb strokes your jaw, before he’s closing his eyes; pretty, long eyelashes fluttering as he leans in slowly. You can’t help the way your other hand rests softly on his ass. He puffs air out between his lips at that, and you close the distance between both of you. 

Surprisingly, or more so surprising to you, Jihoon is a very sensual kisser. The second your lips connect, he’s taking it slow, letting the initial contact linger, before he starts moving his jaw slowly. 

You move your other hand to his ass, carefully giving a small squeeze as you try to distract yourself from the small voice that’s whispering softly inside your head that this isn’t you, that you’re not gay. Jihoon whines softly against your mouth, and it’s enough of a distraction to pull you back into the kiss, back into him. 

The flesh of his ass is soft. You expected it to be pure muscle, but it wasn’t entirely that. It’s firm, an obvious side effect of all the hours he spends in the gym per week, but there’s a layer of fat that makes it squishy. You know it would jiggle if you slapped it, and that makes you squeeze a little harder, the movement of your lips picking up in speed as you kiss him a little deeper. 

He whines softly as your hand slips up his back, under his hoodie and shirt to caress his bare skin. Jihoon is a good kisser, and when he whines again as you knead his ass, you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. 

Immediately Jihoon is sucking on it softly, trying to elicit some kind of sound from you. It works as you grunt, hand on his back pulling his chest into yours in a quick motion that leaves both of you so dizzy. Your cocks brush each other in this new close proximity, and Jihoon releases his suction on your tongue to push his own into your mouth as well. 

Jihoon’s tongue is soft and velvety against yours. He kitten licks into your mouth, soft whines and whimpers falling into your mouth as your hands explore his ass and back. The feeling of his ass under your hand makes you a little light headed. It’s just so soft, even through the fabric of his sweats. 

Jihoon gives an experimental roll of his hips against your lap, bulge knocking into yours. Both of you moan out lowly, lips still brushing each other as you take a moment to process. Jihoon laughs softly, pulling away for a second to speak. “At least you’re hard. That's a good sign.” He jokes, one of his hands abandoning its place on your arm to run it down your chest. 

“Fuck,” You gasp softly, as Jihoon rolls his hips again. “You’re just so fucking pretty, Jihoon.” You breathe, and it’s so incredibly honest it makes Jihoon’s skin burn. He almost pulls away before he leans back in, pushing you further into the couch as he grinds against you. His fingers curl around the fabric of your t-shirt, pulling you closer to him. 

“Shit, baby, don’t say things like that.” He gasps into your mouth, before his head falls to the crook of your neck. His hips never stop moving, precum leaking from his tip, darkening the grey fabric of his sweatpants. 

You can’t see the spot on his sweats, but you can feel it start to seep into your own sweats. Jihoon places a hesitant kiss on your neck. “Baby?” You question, tone teasing as your hand slides further up his back. 

“Is it okay if I call you that?” He pulls his face away from your neck to ask the question. His eyes are searching your face for any discomfort. 

“Call me whatever you like.” The hand on his back reaches the back of his neck, and you pull him in carefully for another kiss. This time, the sensuality is gone. It’s hungry. 

You almost crave Jihoon’s small noises; crave the way he rolls his hips into you, crave (what you just realized) how fucking hard he is. The feeling of grinding against something with shape feels infinitely better. It makes your head spin a little at the realization; that you’d (at least right now) much rather have Jihoon on your lap than any woman. 

You lick into his mouth, arm slipping out of his shirt, down his back and up to his face to hold it. You kiss him like you’re starving, or maybe it’s because you may never have the opportunity to do so again. He moans into your mouth, fingers catching on your shirt as he tugs it softly. 

Your tongues fight back and forth in a perfect rhythm, sucking, nipping, biting at each other. You squeeze his ass a little harder, delivering a soft slap to it. Jihoon yelps into your mouth and you know you’ve got him right where you need him. Through your dreams about him, you’ve deducted that he might be submissive, and you can feel his control slipping away from him as you keep grabbing and kissing him. 

The hand on his face falls, and you test your luck by placing your hand on top of your dick, palm up, when he lifts his hips. On the down motion, his cock makes contact with your hand and he breaks. More precum leaks from his cock, leaving a slight sheen on your hand. You give an experimental squeeze through his sweats and he moans loudly into your mouth, teeth clashing into yours before he pulls away. 

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours as he lets out a breathy laugh. You place a soft kiss to his jaw, craning your neck slightly to reach the area. 

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask, carefully giving a soft squeeze to his cock. He hisses softly, back arching. 

“Well, yeah, but I-I gotta teach you.” Despite his subtle protest, he still pushes his hips down into your palm. You pull your hand away, letting your thumb rest on the hem of his sweatpants. You carefully push the single digit under the band, nail brushing against his v-line. 

Jihoon pulls his bottom lip into his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He goes to speak again, but for some reason can’t figure out what to say. 

“If you’re gonna teach me, then tell me what to do. Tell me how to make you feel good.” You push your hand further down his hips, to his lower stomach and into the hem of his boxers. You can feel the heat from his cock radiating against your fingers. He shivers. 

“Fuck. Gonna teach you how to suck dick.” Jihoon shifts, getting off your lap. Your hand slips back out of his pants, lingering on his waist. “Get on your knees for me.” He sits on his knees on the couch, before shifting to sit normally. 

You do as he says, letting go of him to slide off the couch and onto your knees right in between his legs. He moans softly at the sight of you in this position, hands itching to touch you. Jihoon shifts forward. You rest your chin on his lower thigh, eyes wide as you wait for instructions on what to do. He doesn’t speak, just runs a hand through your hair as he gets his bearings. “You’ve gotten a blow job before right?” Jihoon asks breathlessly. 

“Yes, I’ve had my dick sucked before.” You laugh softly, leaning into his touch. He looks completely fucked out already; face and neck flushed and you know it’s reached the top of his chest from all the times he’s thrown off his shirt after getting home from the gym. 

“Then I won’t give you much instruction. Just feel it out. You know what feels good, so just go based off of that.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb. You nod, shifting to get closer to his lap. Now on your knees, you can really see how hard he is. His erection is straining against his sweatpants and it’s big. Jihoon’s size is a little intimidating, especially for a first time, and it’s not even out in the open. You carefully run a hand up his thigh, back to the band of his sweats, fully ready to pull them off him if he lets you, but then you stall for a second. 

You move your face from its spot on his thigh, hovering right over his dick before you lean down and place a careful kiss to it over the fabric. Jihoon moans loudly, fist tightening in your hair. You nuzzle your face into his erection, giving him some kind of friction as you continue to work him up. 

He swears loudly, lips parting as his breath quickens. You have the benefit of the doubt here; you know what feels good, your favourite ways past partners have treated you before going down on you, and you hope Jihoon likes similar things. He looks so pretty like this, and you feel some precum leak from your tip as your cock twitches at the realization. 

You use both hands to push his shirt and sweater up. You place a trail of kisses up his cock to his stomach before you kiss the skin of his abs. Kissing almost pure muscle is different from the soft skin you’re used to. Somehow, you think you like it a little bit better when you sink your teeth into one of the ridges, sucking a mark into his abs. 

Jihoon moans, pulling at your hair, hips bucking up off the couch. His sweater stays in place pushed up his torso as your hands move back down to his sweats. He lifts his hips off the cushions to help you. You pull his sweats down, boxers slipping further down his waist but not coming off. You take the opportunity to palm him through his boxers once his sweats are at his ankles, fully getting a feel for how hard and big he is. He’s not as thick as you are, but there’s still significant weight to his cock. 

He’s hard and leaking, moans slipping past his lips as you continue to suck marks into his abs, trailing further and further down. you squeeze his cock, other hand toying with the hem of his boxers. His hips buck up again, a whine slipping past his lips. “Fuck, take them off please.” You laugh at the desperation in his voice. “It hurts.” He hisses, and you know, just by how tight they are on him that it does hurt, so you pull them down to his ankles. 

His cock hits your neck as it springs free. You pull away from him, sitting back on your knees, hands rubbing his thighs. He shivers again, hand still in your hair as he pets it softly. “Scary?” He asks, voice soft. 

“Yeah. I’m a little intimidated.” You laugh nervously, and he brushes your cheek again in reassurance. 

“Just take your time. If you’re not feeling it, we can stop. I don’t expect you to deep throat me with your gag reflex being so bad, but just feel it out.” You laugh again, this time less nervous at his word. He’s right about the gag reflex though. He’s heard you gag from holding your toothbrush in your mouth for too long. Sucking dick is uncharted territory. 

You lick your hand, wetting it to wrap it around his cock. Your hand shakes as it makes first contact with his cock, giving a slow, careful pump up his entire length. Jihoon closes his eyes as he moans, head falling back. “Fuck, sorry, it’s been a while since anyones touched me.” He lets out a breathy laugh, thighs shaking softly. You give another gentle stroke to his cock, milking the precum out of him on the upstroke. You can’t help yourself as your other hand falls down to his inner thigh, nails raking over the skin. He moans again, lip tucked in between his teeth. 

“You’re so sensitive.” You coo, pushing his thighs further apart. “Legs up.” You prompt. Jihoon opens his eyes, lids heavy with lust as he stares at you.

“Put your legs up for me, pretty. I’m gonna eat you out.” You lean forward, kissing his upper thigh. Your face brushes against his cock, which you’re slowly working with one of your hands. He swears again, doing as you say. His sweats and boxers fall off his ankles and onto the floor. Your grip on his cock releases for a few seconds as you pull his hips further to the edge of the couch. 

“Didn’t know you were into that.” He gasps softly when your hand wraps back around him. 

“I’ve eaten ass before, angel. At least I know I can make you feel good this way.” The pet name of choice does something to Jihoon; he whines softly, desperately at the suggestion. Settled where you need to be, you lean down, flattening your tongue as you stick it out. His hole is pink and tight, perfectly smooth like the rest of him. 

You knew Jihoon liked to shave, preferred to be hairless partially because of his idol image, but you now knew it extended to part of his personal care. There was not a single hair in sight, which was good for you. Part of your anxiety around men in general was the presence of hair. Getting your own hair in your mouth was something you hated, and so getting another person's hair in your mouth during an intimate moment was something that scared you more than it should have. 

You lean down further, licking a long strip over his entrance. Immediately, his hips are bucking up, cock pushing itself further up into your hand which had stalled its movements as you assessed the situation. His balls hit your face, perfect and round; full. He whines softly, every last strand of his feigned dominance dissolving with the first intrusion of your tongue. You repeat the motion several times, getting him nice and wet before you start circling his entrance with your tongue. 

Jihoon’s little noises pick up in volume and frequency, breathing growing frantic on top of you. He’s tense, something isn’t great for you to work your magic, so you pull away briefly. “Just relax, angel. You’re too tense right now.” You murmur into the skin of his ass. He exhales a shaky breath, relaxing his muscles as he leans back into the couch, now laying down with his weight resting on his arms so he can still watch you. 

With his body more relaxed, you go back to rimming him before you carefully prod his entrance with your tongue. The hand on his cock starts moving again, jerking him off slowly. Your nose presses into his perineum as you start to push your tongue into him and his hand is back in your hair, grip tightening as you start to fuck him with your tongue. 

You never did mind eating ass; if it was what your partner wanted, you’d do it. But eating Jihoon out has got to be the single hottest thing you’ve ever done. His moans are so breathy and desperate that all you can think about right now is making him feel good. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good with your mouth, shit.” He babbles, voice shaking as he speaks. 

You keep fucking him open with your tongue, flicking it up inside him, despite the tight muscles protest. His cock is leaking nonstop now, slick precum meeting your palm as you continue to stroke him slowly, going base to tip. Your lips suction around his hole as you push your tongue in and out, picking up speed. Jihoon’s hips buck once again before he's whining out a warning. You pull your tongue out of him, sitting back on your knees as you let go of his cock. His eyes are wide in disbelief at you ripping his orgasm away from him.

“What the fuck?” He blinks a few times.

“I still need to suck you off.” Is all you offer, before Jihoon’s placing his feet back on the floor, using the hand in his hair to pull you closer to his cock. His eyes flicker, darkening, appearing sharper as he leans down to kiss you, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth to taste himself on you. He pulls away, out of breath, leaving you slightly dazed at the shift in his demeanour. 

The brief display of dominance is gone when he sees you staring at his cock, lips parting slightly as you try and calculate your first move. “Take your time. I know it’s scary.” His hand in your hair pets it softly, moving a few pieces out of your face. You shift forward, taking it back into your hand, thinking back to all the times you’ve gotten head before. 

You start with what’s familiar, opening your mouth to pull one of his balls into your mouth. You never thought a dick could be pretty, but Jihoon is proof that this can happen. It’s perfectly straight, long and thick with a pretty pink tip. His balls are round and smooth; everything about his body seems to work with each other. You make eye contact with him as your lips wrap around his balls, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. He moans softly, hand pushing your hair out of your face. His own hair is covering parts of his face, a pure testament to how long it's gotten. 

You switch your attention to his other ball once you’re satisfied with your work, repeating the same set of actions. Then it’s time to get to the main star of the show; his cock, which is painfully hard in your hand. You pull off his balls with a sharp pop, taking a few seconds to psych yourself up. You start by licking a long stripe up his shaft, hands settling on his thighs. His hand in your hair releases itself to give you more mobility. Once you reach his tip, you place a soft kiss over his head. His precum coats your lips, and you lick it off hesitantly. It’s salty, but there’s an undertone to it that’s sweet. It’s not unpleasant. Jihoon moans at the sight of you fully tasting him, hand back in your hair with his grip much less tight. 

You open your mouth to take him in, breathing out as your eyes close to calm your gag reflex that you can already feel preemptively acting up. “Relax your jaw. It’s easier to open your mouth wider if you’re not so tense.” He suggests quietly. “It’s like singing vowels, relax the back of your throat and you won’t strain so much.” Musically speaking, it makes it easier to follow his instructions. You do as he instructs, opening your mouth as you use your hand to guide his cock into your mouth. 

Jihoon’s tip hits your tongue, the taste of his precum filling your mouth as more leaks out of his head. You close your lips around his tip, sucking softly on it, eliciting a loud moan from Jihoon. With your jaw relaxed, you take him a little further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck. What is entirely unexpected is the way your mouth seems to water around him. The excess spit makes it easier to slide him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you start to slowly bob your head. 

Jihoon pushes your hair back from your forehead, lips parted as breathy moans slip past them constantly. “Use your hand to get what you can’t fit in your mouth.” You do as he says, stroking the bigger half of his cock that isn’t inside your mouth. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’ve got almost half.” If anyone else was to tell you this, it may have seemed a bit condescending, but it’s Jihoon and you know he's being sincere in his praises. You moan around him softly, the vibration completely unexpected. It makes Jihoon buck his hips before he stops himself. “Fuck, sorry.” He pants, a shaky laugh following his apology. 

Only after he praises you do you fully realize how fucking hard you are. You remove your other hand from his thigh to slot it inside your sweats, fingers sneaking under the hem of your boxes as you wrap your hand around your leaking cock. The relief is immediate, making you moan again around him. You go back to focusing on him, head bobbing a little faster, taking a little more until his tip is close to kissing the back of your throat. You quicken your own hand, squeezing once you get to your tip with each pump of your fist. 

Jihoon doesn’t stop watching you, and it’s only when your eyes roll back slightly that he realizes the reason your hand left its place on his thigh. “Are you touching yourself, baby?” He asks, voice shaky. For some reason, he can’t seem to stabilize it. You do your best to nod as you read the tip of his cock as you bob your head. His grip on your hair tightens again as he moans out a string of explicits. 

You take too much on the way down, Jihoon’s tip hitting the back of your throat, and you gag hard, pulling all the way off his cock. Jihoon immediately rubs your cheek with his thumb, wiping at the small tears that had gathered in your eyes at the force of your gag reflex activating. “Careful, baby. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” You laugh weakly, panting softly.

“Sorry. I didn’t think that would be so aggressive. I’m okay.” You reassure him, voice a little scratchy and face burning in embarrassment. He smiles, a little fucked out and weak as he wipes away the few tears left in your eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry. It happens.” He coos, eyes softening at the flush spreading over your face. You take a few seconds to catch your breath before your mouth is back around his cock, a new sense of determination in your movements as a way to redeem yourself from that embarrassment. Jihoon’s eyes roll back in his head again, more soft moans and whimpers slipping past his lips as he realizes how loud he's being. 

You keep up this pace, fist tightening around your own cock as you stroke the rest of his. Jihoon moans lowly. “Fuck, just like that. Just like that, baby.” He hisses through his teeth, eyes shut tight as he resists the urge to fuck himself into your mouth. “Shit, I'm close.” His fist in your hair goes to pull you off of him so he can finish, but you keep sucking, suddenly feeling the need to swallow his load. 

He swears again, thighs shaking as he tries to push his orgasm away for a few more seconds to give you time to pull off. When you don't, his fist in your hair pulls you down onto him. His free hand curls into the fabric of his sweater, gripping it harshly as he tugs at it. His hips jerk slightly, cock twitching in your mouth as the first drops of his orgasm hit your tongue. He cums into your mouth, high whines and moans slipping past his lips as his eyes screw shut. You keep sucking him through it, swallowing his load as it fills your mouth. Jihoon cums hard, cock twitching as you suck out every last drop. 

When he’s finished, you pull off, dropping your hand from his cock. You sit on your knees, giving him time to calm down from his high. Now with nothing else to focus on, your movements on your own cock quicken. With your lip between your teeth, you bite back the shame bubbling in your stomach from being on your knees, jerking yourself off in front of another man who’s dick you just sucked and ass you just tongue fucked.

Jihoon bounces back quickly, leaning forward to pull you up to the couch. You let him guide you up and onto the couch, before he’s slipping off the couch himself, sweater falling down to barely cover his ass as he falls to his knees. Wordlessly, his hands grab at your sweats, one hand rubbing your erection over the fabric. “You don’t have to.” You breathe out, though the way your hips jolt is a direct contradiction to your statement. 

Jihoon shakes his head softly. “Wan’ to.” His eyes zero in on the massive bulge in front of him, and he starts to pull your sweats down, boxers caught under his fingers to go with them. You lift your hips to help him out, cock slapping your stomach as it springs free. 

Jihoon’s jaw visibly drops at the sight of your cock out in the open. He spits in his hand, the sound lewd and unashamed. Jihoon wraps it around your head, squeezing softly. You watch him intently.

Generally speaking, you’ve never really paid attention to someone’s hand on your cock. That was before Jihoon, apparently, because you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from the way his slender fingers look wrapped around your thick, painfully hard, cock. His knuckles are blushed, nails perfectly trimmed, group ring glistening in the dim light of the television which has paused from the episode ending, and his spit. He gives you a few pumps before he takes you into his mouth. 

Jihoon gets about halfway before he pulls back up, tongue swirling around your head before he’s on his way back down, taking you even further. He does it again, this time opening his throat to take you deeper. You moan lowly at the tightness of his throat, hand finding its place in his long, dark hair. You push his bangs back, which are overgrown and in his eyes. 

Jihoon’s plush lips look so full with your cock in between them, red from kissing him and biting them to silence his moans. His big eyes are focused on you, and if there was anything that got you going, it was eye contact. He swirls his tongue around your tip again, cheeks hollowing on the way down before he takes you into his throat, all the way from tip to base. 

Your other hand finds his head, brushing back the other side of his hair, before you close your eyes and buck your hips up, swearing quietly. Your cock twitches as Jihoon tightens his throat around you. You hold his head there, leaving your cock all the way down his throat. “Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum.” You slur, head falling back into the couch as your cock twitches again, the first drops of your orgasm sliding down his throat. 

Jihoon resumes bobbing his head, now not pulling all the way off like he was doing before. Another deep moan slips past your lips before your orgasm washes over you like a hot tidal wave. It’s probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time, a result of the most mind blowing head you’ve probably ever received. Jihoon pulls back, getting your cock out of his throat to taste your release. He keeps sucking, milking your cock dry before he swallows every last drop. 

Jihoon pulls his mouth off your cock with a lewd, wet pop. He finds his boxers on the floor, slipping them back on before he sits beside you on the couch. Your face is red and burning with your orgasm, but also with a little shame. You quickly lean over to pull your sweatpants and boxers back up, avoiding eye contact with Jihoon at all costs. “Talk to me. What’s going on right now?” Jihoon’s voice is soft, careful as if you’re a shattered glass only hanging on by the force of gravity.

“Guilt, mostly. A little shame. Nothing you've done; I’m just processing.” Jihoon nods carefully, whole body tense at the way your voice is shaking, like you might be close to tears. You can feel that familiar knot grow in your throat, and you might actually cry.

“C’mon, it’s late. Let's go to bed.” Jihoon ushers, grabbing your hand to pull you up off the couch. You follow him silently, television forgotten as he leads you down the hall to your bedrooms. 

You pull away from him as you reach your room, but his grip on your hand tightens. “Wh–” You sputter, before he interjects swiftly.

“You just went through something that’s gonna be really rough to acknowledge later. I’m not gonna let you do that alone; you’re staying with me tonight. Unless you really do want to be alone.” Jihoon’s thumb rubs a soothing circle into the back of your hand, and you know he’s right. You let him pull you into his bedroom, let him pull the covers back on his bed, let him pull you under the covers with him. You watch him roll over to turn the lamp off before he’s curling himself into your chest, hand finding the side of your neck to rub your nape softly in reassurance. 

It’s unspoken, the comfort he’s giving you right now. You lean forward to press a kiss to his lips as a thank you for understanding just how confusing things are, how jumbled your thoughts are right now. “I’m sorry. Things feel kinda funky inside my head right now, but I think I’m okay.” You kiss him again, arm wrapping around his waist. 

“I wish I could help more.” He sighs, reconnecting your lips after his statement. “Do you feel any regret?” He asks hesitantly.

It’s your turn to kiss him again. “Regret? No, no. I think I’m just reevaluating a lot of things right now.” Another soft kiss. “Scared at how much I actually enjoyed that, yes.” Another one. 

“You did really well.” Another. “Scared the shit out of me when you gagged though.” Jihoon laughs softly, fatigue starting to set in. You kiss him again as a small apology for scaring him.

“You think so?” You ask, suddenly embarrassed at his praises. Another kiss.

“You did good.” Jihoon delivers a weak, playful punch to your chest, before he kisses you again. 

“I can’t fucking believe you deep throated me.” You laugh quietly, slightly exasperated as you recall the way he had you cumming in mere minutes. You kiss him softly.

“I don’t really have a gag reflex.” He giggles softly, yawning. Another kiss. The conversation continues like this, alternating between words and kisses until both of you are too tired to do either. As Jihoon’s breathing evens out, you feel your chest tighten in a way it never has before. He nuzzles his face into your chest softly, hair pushing its way into your face. His shampoo overwhelms your senses and the tightening gets worse. 

This, objectively, changes everything. You can’t exactly place the tightness, but it’s familiar in the same way Jihoon is when you come home to him every night. Maybe it’s the warmth of your orgasm, or maybe it’s the warmth of Jihoon himself as you hold him in your arms as he sleeps. Whatever it is, it’s an issue for the morning. You’re too tired to pinpoint it, and so you let yourself succumb to it, drifting off surrounded by overwhelming safety. 

a/n: yes this is named after a hozier song. i've seen/am seeing him twice in the last year, once last tour once this tour (in two different cities). he is the epitome of gay yearning so... yeah. part two?? part three??? part four??? i have so many thoughts abt this anon ask that im considering making it a full series maybe.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1247 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Oh,” James pauses, his thumb hovering over his screen as he glances at the phone, his expression shifting to one of mild frustration. “It’s work,” he mutters under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly. “I need to take this.”

“That’s alright,” you smile gently. “I’ll take Henry in, and you can meet us in there when you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” James asks, his gaze flicking between you and Henry, who is gripping both straps of his backpack, his glasses slightly askew as he squints curiously at the classroom ahead.

“Yes,” you encourage, taking a sip of the coffee James made for you this morning savoring the warmth. “If you’re quick enough, I don’t think he’ll even notice.” You nod towards Henry, who is intently watching the family ahead of you greet his teacher, his curiosity piqued.

James presses a quick, hurried kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the line and heading off to take the call. Henry’s teacher greets him with warmth, complimenting his glasses and excitedly telling him about the art projects planned for the day. The exchange is brief but effective, and you can see Henry’s nerves begin to ease. He’s been uncertain about school all morning, but you and James have done your best to ease his worries, sharing stories of your own favorite memories from school to get him excited.

You barely finish telling Henry that you’ll meet the other parents before he’s darting forward, his little legs carrying him with surprising speed toward the corner of the room where the toys are. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you watch him seamlessly slip into a group of kids, his small hands eagerly grabbing a toy train. All his earlier fears seem to vanish in an instant, replaced by the gleam of excitement in his eyes. 

At the back of the classroom, a table is set up with an assortment of pastries, a small sign propped up beside them: We know this may be a tough transition, so enjoy a lemon croissant to brighten your day! You smile softly at the gesture, reaching for one of the croissants just as someone else does, your fingers brushing against each other.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, glancing up at a man who looks equally as surprised as you. The pastry is now long forgotten.

“No, no, I’m the one who should be sorry,” the man rushes to say, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as he offers you a sheepish smile. “I got a bit too excited to finally grab some breakfast and didn’t even notice you there.”

“I get it,” You laugh, holding up your coffee cup. “This is all I had time for this morning.”

“The struggles of being a parent,” he jokes, offering you his hand with a wry smile. “Aaron. My kid’s the one who looks like she’s two seconds away from crying. It’s clearly a big day for her.”

You offer your name, smiling sympathetically at the sight of his daughter, who is taking in the classroom with big, wide eyes. “Mine’s the one with glasses, who is very impatiently waiting for a turn at the train table.”

You spend the next few minutes chatting with Aaron, commiserating over the bittersweet challenge of watching your child start school. You both agree that the teacher seems wonderful—kind, approachable, and genuinely invested in the kids. 

“Daddy,” A sweet, soft voice says. “Nobody wants to be my friend.” You watch with a squeeze in your heart how nervous the little girl, Ella, you learned, looks. Aaron sighs, leaning down to talk to his daughter, and your eyes shift to Henry, who is chatting to anyone willing to listen.

You call his name, and when he glances up, you gesture for him to come over.

“Yeah, mumma?” Henry comes to meet you where you’re bent down, slotting himself into your side as he watches Ella sniffle into her dad’s shoulder.

It doesn’t take long after the introductions for Ella’s tears to dry, replaced by infectious giggles as she and Henry build towering block structures, only to gleefully knock them down again.

“Thank you,” Aaron murmurs, his gaze fixed on Ella, sitting on the floor in front of you both with Henry, before he glances at you. “I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to leave for work knowing she was so upset.”

“It was no problem,” you shrug, your voice soft. “I know today’s been tough.”

You’re so absorbed in watching Henry and Ella that you don’t notice Aaron’s gaze lingering on you, appreciatively taking you in, or how his eyes flick to your left hand, searching for any sign of a ring. But James notices. He’s just barely made it in the door after his call, and the moment his eyes land on you and Aaron, a flicker of something dark passes over his face. His jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as he stands in the doorway, feeling the jealousy pool in his stomach.

Aaron leans in, his proximity crossing into uncomfortable territory—you don’t seem to notice, though—as he points to something across the classroom. James, already tense, steps forward, irritation clear in his movements—he’s had enough of watching someone else make an attempt to flirt with you, and it’s barely been thirty seconds.

“I’m sorry, darling. The call took longer than I expected.” He murmurs, his arm slipping around your waist. The warmth in his voice makes your face brighten, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“That’s alright.” You murmur, that lovestruck look settling on your face as you gaze at him. For a brief moment, you forget that you were in the middle of a conversation, so distracted by the feeling of James’ touch.

“Oh! This is Aaron—his daughter Ella is playing with Henry.” You gesture toward Ella before flashing Aaron a smile. “And this is James—”

“—Her husband.” James interjects, his tone sharp as he extends his hand. Your jaw drops in surprise as you turn to him, shock written across your face.

Aaron hesitates for a moment, then takes James’ hand, his expression unreadable. “Nice to meet you, mate,” he says, his voice steady, though there’s an uncomfortable edge to it.

A few minutes of brief conversation pass, and it’s clear Aaron isn’t nearly as warm with James present as he was when it was just you. Sensing the tension, you feel a wave of relief when the teacher announces it’s time for parents to say their goodbyes and head out. You and James shower Henry with kisses and smother him in hugs, reluctant to let him go, before finally saying your goodbyes.

James hopes you’ve forgotten his jealous remark, but as soon as you get in the car, you turn to him, shaking your head with an amused smile.

“My husband? How will you explain that when he finds out you lied?” You snort, glancing expectantly at James.

“Listen, love,” he starts, his tone defensive, “you should’ve seen the way he was looking at you. He checked if you were wearing a ring!”

“I don’t care,” you reply, buckling yourself in with a soft, sincere smile. “The only man I care about is you.” You hum playfully, adding, “Even if he did kind of look like you.”

James scoffs, his eyes flicking to you. “He absolutely did not,” he mutters, his tone defensive. “I’m way better looking.”When you don’t respond, he glances at you again, a hint of panic creeping in. “Right?”

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[togament]

⤷ ume, sakura, nirei, kiryu, kaji, togame, suo, endo.

"he wants to make you smile so he left you a little note. What'd he write and where'd he hide it? I got you."

⤷ 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF!!!!, g/n reader, suo's kinda scares me ngl, I feel guilty for togame pls be patient with him He Is Trying, ENDO IS SCARY, nirei is very sweet oh MY GOD, all the fluff all the fluffies!!!!!!!

♯ 𝐔𝐌𝐄

"You found it! ◡̈ I just wanted to drop a little sunshine for my sunshine while I go get some sunshine ☼ You're my favorite person in the world and I hope this note makes your heart do a little happy dance like mine does whenever I see you. If you find this (and you did!! Yay!) it means you're awesome and that I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I love you!!!!! Your Number One Fan, 🍑"

Little doodles and happy scribbles!!!! You can tell he was smiling so widely when he wrote everything out for you -- it's like you can feel his happiness radiating from his writing it's very infectious. He just loves you that much.

(hid it in your favorite mug for you to find in the morning when he's out tending to his garden.)

────

♯ 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈

"Hey, love. Just a quick note to remind you how much I appreciate everything you do. For me and the boys. Your support means the absolute world to me. Don't forget to take your vitamins today -- gotta take care of yourself too, alright? I love you. - T."

Thankful and doting!!!!!! Vaguely smells like him too so you know he kept the note right by his jacket pocket for a while before sneaking it into its rightful hiding spot. His handwriting is sharp and you know he wrote it quick. He probably wrote it while on patrol.

(hid it inside your vitamin case that you use daily so you find it easily.)

────

♯ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀

"I'm not really good with this whole cutesy stuff, but I wanted to let you know I'm thinking about you. You make my days better (even if I don't say it right). Love you. Lots. - S. P.S. there's chocolate for you in the fridge :)"

Clumsy and cute, the note has little writing indents of past notes he's written and promptly thrown away. He settled for this one because you're stirring awake beside him and he doesn't wanna get caught lmao

(Has the note hidden in one of the books you're currently reading, right where your bookmark is.) ────

♯ 𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈

"Whoops. You found me. Wanted to leave you a little surprise! I'm planning on something fun for us real soon, but until then (tonight!!) I hope this note makes you smile as much as you make me smile every day. You're the best! I can't wait to see you. - your bunny."

Bright and cheery, much like Nirei is. Of course he has something planned for the both of you by the end of the day and he's keeping it a secret... But you know him. Something's bound to slip from his lips when you meet up with him tonight. Promise to act surprised?

(He hides it inside your pencil box because he knows you use it on the daily.)

────

♯ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔

"Sweetheart! ♡ Surprise! I just wanted to leave a little reminder of how much I adore you. If you find this note, it means you didn't wait for me to play with you ( •̀ - •́ ) kidding! Can't wait to start our new game tonight. I love youuuu!! - forever your Player Two ♡"

Written on a purple and pink post-it, it's spritzed with his perfume. His penmanship is remarkable too. Playful and sweet!!!!! It makes you extremely giddy and excited to meet up with him later. You know for a fact he's got his space set and decked out in fairy lights for your game night. Gotta wait for a couple more hours though UGHHHSHAS

(has it neatly hidden inside the game case of the new game you both have been dying to play.)

────

♯ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈

"Before anything, don't get mushy on me. Just wanted to say you're pretty great and I'm glad you're around. Found this album at the shop. Remembered you saying you wanted to listen to them, so I guess that's my way of saying I care. Listen to it with me later. - Ren. ♡"

neatly written on a post-it note, you kinda think it could be printed out. It's crazy. Short and concise, you can tell he had his brows furrowed when he wrote this for you. He's trying!!!!!! He really is!!!! You know he'd bring some food for the both of you when you meet up. He's a romantic at heart.

(has it taped to the CD he bought for you right next to your player.)

────

♯ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

"I'm probably late again, aren't I? Big surprise. I promise I'm working on it, but in the meantime, I thought I'd leave you a little reminder that you're amazing and that I promise I'll always be worth the wait. Thank you for being so patient with me, doll. I love you. A lot. Bringing your favorite dish tonight. Kame Special. -🐢"

HE'S TRYINGGG AAAASJKDKJASD!!!!!! As you read, you can practically hear the slight purr in his voice and he sounds so apologetic too. HE'S TRYING HE'S TRYINGGJAKJDS he loves his sleep a bit too much, you see. Pepper him in kisses when you meet him tonight. He deserves as much.

(Snuck it inside your planner the night before your date so you'd find it when you go check on your schedule for the day. He's not late for your home date later, by the way.)

────

♯ 𝐒𝐔𝐎

"My dove. Consider this a little hint: I've got a little something special planned for you, but you'll have to find more clues first and follow them. I promise you won't be disappointed. I'll be waiting for you tonight. Wear that dress that I love so much, yes? - Your Hayato."

uH OH. UH OH UH OH. Your man has you working for the surprise but that's such a him thing to do. At least he has something super cute planned by the end of it!!! If he says you won't be disappointed, he means it. HE MEANS IT.

(hid it inside the pocket of your coat that he knows you'll be using today. It's something you'd naturally reach into. Such a Suo thing to plan out.)

────

♯ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎

"Hey there, gorgeous. I know you're in the middle of pretending not to miss me while reading up on this chapter. It's my favorite one, by the way. If you find this note, it means I'm missing you too and totally not hiding underneath your bed or in your closet ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ See you in a sec. - Only Your Yams."

Ominous and teasing, much like Endo is. You kind of wanna check under your bed and in your closet but you know your boyfriend's just out to grab some coffee for the both of you. His handwriting is legible and super neat and he spritzed some of his favorite perfume on the note too. Mmmmm. Sandalwood and smoky vanilla.

(hid it between the pages of your favorite book with your bookmark replaced with a new one he bought for you. One of those fancy ones that can mark the words and stuff. Has to match his.)

a/n: I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING I FUNALLYNJASDJKASD HUHUHUHUHUUASHKAS thank you for reading through this. I feel very rusty.

[elixirfromthestars]

key: angst ☽ | fluff ☼ | 18+ ♡ | 500+ notes ✧ | 1/2k+ notes ୨୧ | 3/4k+ notes ✩

─ ⊹ ⊱ Series ⊰ ⊹ ─

The Biker's Tulip ☼ ୨୧

biker!bucky x florist!reader

A small town. A biker and a florist, each one carrying the burdens of their past, and yet despite that, finding solace in one another along the way...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Collections ⊰ ⊹ ─

In the Name of Love & Law ☼ ☽ ✧

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

This collection follows the love story between Detective Bucky Barnes and you, one of the most notorious prosecutors in New York, working alongside the detectives of the Brooklyn homicide precinct. In the midst of navigating the chaos of your jobs, you also have to navigate the growing feelings between you and Bucky that seem to be going nowhere no matter how hard you try to ignore them...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Two Parts ⊰ ⊹ ─

A Night Of Frights and Delights ☼ ୨୧

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

It's Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can't stand is also there?

Part II ♡ ☼ ✧

You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Oneshots ⊰ ⊹ ─

One Call Away ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

You’re a journalist in the late 1950s working for a gossip magazine. You write an article about the actor Steve Rogers, and his agent Bucky Barnes is not happy about it. He confronts you and offers you a deal.

In Five Years ☽

bucky x enhanced!reader

Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.

My Dearest ☼ ✧ ☽

duke!bucky x lady!reader

On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.

Written in the Stars ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

Your boyfriend, Bucky, takes you on a date full of surprises under the stars.

Boulevard Confessions ☼ ୨୧

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Sink Your Teeth In Me ♡ ☼ ୨୧

bucky x neighbor!reader

You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Crossroads ☽ ✧

bucky x neurosurgeon!reader

On a rainy night on your way home, fate decides to cross your path with someone who used to hold the dearest place in your heart.

Dancing Embers ☼

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?

By The Warmth Of The Oven ☼ ✩

bucky x avenger!reader

You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

In His Embrace ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.

A Snow Day With You ☼

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Drabbles ⊰ ⊹ ─

Together ☼ ✧

bucky x wife!reader

It’s been a month since you had a baby with your husband, Bucky. On the first day he went back to work, however, you can’t get her to stop crying—that is until Bucky comes home.

Lucky Day ☼ ✧

bucky x reader - college au

Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played.

Tranquility ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

On your day off from saving the world, you decide to have a date in the park with your boyfriend Bucky.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Blurbs/Moodboards ⊰ ⊹ ─

No matter when or where, Bucky will always be there at your call. ☼ ✧

Escape Room Date Moodboard ☼

Fancy Dinner Date Moodboard ☼

Planetarium Date Moodboard ☼

Aquarium Date Moodboard ☼

⌞‼⌝ I do not give consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. 

⌞‼⌝ All images/gifs used are not mine, and come from google unless specifically stated otherwise.​

⌞‼⌝ Heart divider by @/enchanthings

[rainyorca]

You know I love you girl 𓇼 Kenji Sato X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, hurt, comfort, established relationship, smut, pnv, cunnilings.

Words: 2,029

Notes: Probably my last short one until I finish my long form one. Anyways, I am all about soft kenji so pls enjoy <33.

��︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

Sometimes, not so often, you and Kenji will get into these little disagreements, simple fights in other words. And sometimes, neither of you will apologize, you’ll both go to sleep angry, backs facing each other rather than holding each other. You both need your space after fights, a little time to really sit and think, and then you’ll apologize or he’ll apologize and things will be back to normal. 

But recently, you got upset about something that started this whole problem. You can put up with Kenji’s life as a celebrity, him taking pictures with fans and doing the whole sports celebrity thing but him being gone all the time bothers you a bit. You were fine with it before but something about it just really grinds your gears now. You don't say anything about it at first, that is until he tells you a specific time he's coming home, and then he comes home hours later without saying a word. The first time it happened you brushed it off, he apologized, explained what happened and that was that. 

However, around the fourth time, you explained to him why it was making you upset, and asked him why he kept forgetting to let you know. Kenji isn't a cheater, you know that very well, he would never do anything like that to you but you just can't help but wonder what he's up to.

“I don't understand why it's so hard to at least send me a text,” you say, your tone firm but voice rather soft. You never yell, rarely ever raise your voice, Kenji is the same way except sometimes he can get a little carried away. “I just dont see the problem, you have my location,” he points out, the tone of his voice makes you nearly lose it. You two had been going at it for thirty minutes now and you were about fed up, tired of his excuses. “It doesn't matter that I have your location,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s still important that you tell me you're gonna be a little late, if you just sent me a text, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.” Some harsh words were said from the both of you, the argument about his absence turning into a fight about a plethora of other things. Eventually you gave up, frustrated and upset, eyes stinging with tears, you decided to go to bed a little earlier that night. 

About an hour later, you're still awake, staring at the dark ceiling. You left the curtains open to let some cool light from the city and moon pour in. The familiar click of the door opening could be heard throughout the silent room, you turn around, back facing the door to avoid any contact. Kenji stands in the doorway, shirtless, the scent of his body wash rushes into the room, sea salt and cedar. He stares at your backside covered by the silk blankets, a pang of guilt stabs him in the heart. You hear the door close softly, squeezing your eyes shut to pretend you're asleep as he gets in bed with you. His eyes linger on your face for a while.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, sitting up right in the bed, “I’ve seen you asleep thousands of times and I know your face doesn't look anything like that.” His words make you sigh, opening your tired eyes slowly, glaring at him. He feels bad, you can tell just by the way he's staring down at you. “Look, I'm sorry,” he finally says, “I know I should text you when I'm gonna be longer, and honestly I get a little tired of being out all the time.” 

“I wish I could be here with you every moment of the day and night,” he continues, reaching under the blanket and grabbing one of your hands, “and I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean any of it.” He places a gentle kiss on your palm, his lips soft against your skin. You think for a moment, appreciating the fact that he's apologizing even if it's an hour later. “I'm sorry too,” you say softly, voice muffled, “I just wish I could spend more time with you.” 

“I know,” he hums, “I do too.” You stare at each other for a minute in silence before Kenji suddenly pulls the blanket down lower on your body. A smile graces his face when he sees you wearing one of his shirts, he toys with the fabric momentarily before gently pushing you onto your back. Before you can say anything he crawls on top of you, pressing his lips onto your forehead before grabbing your waist and scooting you up further on your pillow a bit. Kenji was rather skilled with his hands, and his silence. He was practically fluent in touches, enough to make you forget the events of what happened earlier. His lips travel to your neck as his hands explore your somewhat exposed body, running them up through the shirt and then down to your bare thighs. His breath gentle against your supple neck, nipping and kissing at your wonderful skin. He pulls away, trailing kisses down to where the shirt starts and then he sits up, nestling himself between your legs and placing gentle, mellow kisses on your legs. It's not long before he reaches your thighs, giving them the same treatment he had the rest of your body. He places his hands on your thighs, holding your legs open and rubbing your skin with his thumbs. 

His lithe fingers curl under your panties suddenly, moving them to the side. It catches you off guard, so naturally you flinch, looking down at him with glossed over eyes. “Relax,” he breathes, his breath fanning over your already soaked cunt, “I just wanna make it up to you.” You watch him open his mouth slowly, sticking his tongue out and pressing it against your clit. The feeling makes you twitch and you lay your head on the pillow with a quiet whimper. You feel him wrap his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking and licking softly. He was without a doubt, so excellently skilled at this, you would mark it as another language he was fluent in. Surrounded by your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin and leaving red marks with his short nails, his mouth working at your core. Everything about this moment had you on edge. His tongue eventually slips into your cunt, keeping a reasonable pace as he watches you writhe simply because of his mouth. 

He gasps into your cunt, pulling away briefly before burying his head between your legs again. His eyes closed, determined expression written all over his slicked face. At this point, hungrily, rolling your hips into his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so often. He reaches up, pressing a hand on your stomach. “Stop moving, love,” he breathes, pulling away from your weeping cunt, “let me take care of you.” Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling on his black locks when his mouth meets your cunt again. 

“Kenji,” you breathe, your head moving side to side on the satin pillow. The familiar heat pools in your stomach, threatening to release in an intense orgasm, but the feeling is pulled away from you along with Kenji’s mouth. “I know, I know,” he says softly when you let out a noise of protest, “I’ll let you feel it in a minute.” You watch him tug his sweats off, along with his boxers. He grabs his cock with a large hand, angling so his flushed tip rubs against your dripping entrance. He leans down, his lips graze over your neck. You tilt your head up, sucking in a breath when you feel him slide into you. “Fuck,” he sighs, a grin appearing on his sculpted face, “it’s been so long.” His breathing is shaky as he slides deeper into you, filling you to the brim until his tip nuzzles just perfectly against your sweet spot. He stretches you out pleasantly, your plush walls already tightening around him. You see his adam's apple bob with a swallow, his eyes trained on your face, focused on your contorted expression of pleasure. A whimper slips off your tongue as he pulls out slowly before pressing back in. Your eyes close as he continues to thrust into you, mouth open in a silent moan. 

With every slow, deep thrust of his hips, stars blur your vision, eyes watering as he fucks the tears out of you. “Ken–” you whine, breathless and quiet, each stroke practically taking your breath away. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he says, his voice hoarse but gentle. Another deep thrust, hitting your sweet spot perfectly makes you cry out, reaching up and digging your nails into his back. The feeling of your nails makes goosebumps rise on his skin, knowing that you're gonna leave marks for him to see in the morning. He smiles, completely drunk on the feeling of your warm cunt, a quiet chuckle, barely audible, heard from his filthy lips. 

“Even when im gone,” he groans, fucking into you with a bit of a quicker pace now, but not too fast, “when im busy, you know I still think about you. You’re always on my mind.” The sound of his groans fills the room, mixed with your soft moans. “You feel so good,” he grunts, his hips connecting to yours before pulling back slowly, “seriously, all I think about is you and this perfect cunt that I’ve missed so much.” 

His soft, wet lips graze yours, making you open your lidded eyes. “Kiss me,” he says, firmly, “please, hm?” His little hum makes you lose your mind, you love it when he does that. You cup his face, pulling him down just a bit until your lips finally connect. He moans into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside by force almost. Your back arches, thighs tighten as he continues to repeatedly hit that sweet spot in you. 

The heat pools inside you again, your moans and ragged breathing picking up in volume, his thrusts still continuing at the same, even pace. “Kenji—ah—fuck, Kenji—!” You mewl, throwing your head back, parting from the heated kiss with him. “Gonna cum for me?” He says, dirty but still in that same gentle tone, “hm?” 

“Y-Yes,” you gasp out, “ah, yes.” He smiles again, your whiny pleads sending shivers down his spine as the pleasure climbs up yours. Your plush walls tighten around him like a vice as your climax builds up in you. “Good girl, cum for me” he whispers, his lips trailing up the line of your jaw. It’s almost as if those simple words were the signal for you, because seconds later your peak crests and you cum all over his cock. You cry out for him, desperately arching your back and scratching lines into his with your nails. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your orgasm as your tears fall just as they had before. At this point, you're too blinded by your orgasm and his cock to even tell if he’s cumming himself.  

Your whole body shudders as you come to rest back on the bed, the silk sheets sticking to your sweaty skin. He sits up, staring at your fucked out state. Your chest rises slowly as you attempt to chase your breath, your eyes shut tightly, mouth open and brows furrowed. Both your arms sprawled out about your head, twitching as you came down from your release. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, still watching your face for any change. He gets up, leaving the room momentarily before returning with a towel, carefully and gently, he removes your panties and cleans you up before cleaning himself up. He gets you a new pair of panties before snuggling back into bed with you, pulling you into his arms tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling him in even tighter.  

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

[savi0rr]

Less Clothes Next Time .ᐟ

Dante x Fem! Reader

In which, maybe styling something that could end the world isn't very good for anyone, but it does look good on him!

a/n: can you guys tell that i'm clearly a fake fan and only watched the show..

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"Goodwill?" Dante asked, raising an eyebrow as he shot you a questioning glance. “Didn’t you get that money from last week?” You frowned, tilting your head to the side, a playful challenge in your eyes. “The money you were bragging about—the one that every demon hunter dreams of receiving; so much cash for such an amazing request?" A smile crept onto your face, teasing him.

Dante fell quiet, halting his brisk pace to rub his chin thoughtfully. “Look, babe, did you really have to call me out like that?” he grumbled, backpedaling to catch up with you. “There was a little setback!” he added, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face. 

“Charming,” you huffed, rolling your eyes dramatically, a playful twinkle in your gaze.

“Careful, hon; I might give you another reason to roll your eyes at me,” he teased, his hand sliding down to your lower back, sending an involuntary shiver through you. 

“Oh, stop it,” you murmured, trying to suppress a smile.

“First of all, I am not wearing that,” Dante declared, making a face as he watched you pick out a particularly worn-out black trench coat. 

“Why not?” you retorted, glancing down at the price tag, which read ‘half off.’ 

“It gets really annoying having to clean your coat,” you replied with a grin. “And besides, it’s a steal!” you giggled, tossing the trench coat into the cart with an air of triumph. 

“Is this your clever way to get me to take up more jobs?” Dante asked, eyeing the racks skeptically.

“If we had that money that you should have gotten, we wouldn’t be wandering around Goodwill,” you said, pulling a simple shirt from the wrack. “What size are you, anyway?” You rubbed your chin, pretending to ponder the question. Dante shot you a playful smirk.

“Extra, extra large,” he said with a wink, his voice low and teasing.

You paused, staring at him in mock disbelief, then playfully shoved the cart into him. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll be sleeping alone tonight!”

“This looks like it matches, right?” you asked, holding a striking dark red trench coat up to his necklace, the fabric catching the light. Dante glanced down, one eyebrow raised in skepticism.

“Is something wrong with my style already?” he asked, surveying his outfit as if it had suddenly betrayed him.

“Of course not!” you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved the coat into the already overflowing cart with a satisfied smile. “It’s just that you remind me of those cartoon superheroes who only have one or two outfits per episode—they never change!” 

Dante fell silent, his eyes widening in mock horror before he gasped dramatically. “I’m taking that to heart!” he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest as if you had just pricked his pride. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going to be sleeping alone tonight,” he retorted, glancing away with a huff. 

He scanned the racks, pulling out a dress adorned with an outrageous, grandma-style pattern. “Maybe you need a change too!” he quipped, holding it up to your body with exaggerated flair. “For, you know… uh… your face! Yeah…” He added the dress to the cart, looking rather pleased with himself.

You laughed genuinely, shaking your head as you continued to dig through the clothing. “You honestly couldn’t think of anything better to say? I thought you loved my face!”

Dante remained quiet for a moment before nodding. “Okay, you’re right, but you still insulted me!” he shot back, leaning closer to you, a playful glint in his eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“No,” you sighed, leaning back in the chair outside the fitting rooms, an exaggerated expression of exhaustion on your face. 

Dante groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. “Babe! It’s been ages since we started shopping, and we’ve only managed to go through two aisles!” 

“Nothing matches your necklaces,” you countered, rising to your feet and walking toward him, your hands brushing against his shoulders as you did. “Maybe your old outfit suits you better,” you said with a cheeky smile.

Dante's eye twitched in mock annoyance. “You’re lucky I won’t send you to hell!” he grumbled, shutting the curtain to the fitting room with a decisive tug.

“Can you at least try on that fitted shirt?” you asked, giggling as a small smirk danced across your lips.

Dante didn’t immediately respond; instead, he opened the dressing room curtain and pulled you inside with a playful squeal.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I really didn’t mean to get us banned from Goodwill,” he said, adjusting his pants with a sly smirk that suggested mischief. Your cheeks flushed a deep pink as you hurriedly fixed your clothes.

“I’m never going shopping with you ever again!” you declared, stumbling to your feet, your heart racing.

“I’m sorry, who wasted whose time?” Dante retorted, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a playful embrace.

“Whatever,” you replied, shaking your head.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[ekkkkey]

there will be games! (chapter II)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex...

warnings: 18+ minors dni, noncon, dub-con, non-consensual drug use, when the emperor is a bit insane, mommy issues, daddy issues, every kind of issues—this little shit has them all (he’s so cute)

word count: 5k words

chapter I

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor's curiosity.»

-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

She didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave their room, all she wanted was to go home. Not to their new villa in Rome, not even to her husband's old house. Cassandra longed for her childhood home, with her father and sisters, where she could always be the little girl.

"You're an early bird today," Tiberius said, waking and stretching towards her.

Her heart skipped, her palms sweaty with worry.

"Those who apologize properly deserve forgiveness, don't they, little bird?" - another voice, deceptively tender but promising nothing good, echoed in her mind.

Cassandra wrapped herself tighter in the sheet, licking her lips, hiding her body from her husband, not wanting his touch.

"I slept poorly. And I don't feel well. When will we return home?"

Tiberius got up, his brief morning tenderness replaced by his usual sour mood.

"When the games end. Not before. I've got business."

Normally gentle and shy, she never argued with him, but this time, she tossed the sheet aside and jumped up, chasing after him, desperate to talk face-to-face. Her hands shook. She pictured herself – pale, nervous, dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, more like a madwoman than a loving wife. Ashamed of her sudden anger, Cassandra covered up again.

"I feel awful, I'm nauseous, could it be a child, Tiberius?" she tried to elicit some sympathy, pressing her hand to her stomach.

She couldn't stand another moment in the palace.

"Tell me, wife, what troubles you so much?" - he took a step forward. She had never truly feared him, but suddenly realized that after yesterday, both he disgusted her and she feared him. It was his fault! Everything that happened to her was his fault!

"I'm really not well."

"And where better than the emperor's palace to find a good physician?"

Realizing her words were futile, she slumped back on the bed's edge, and Tiberius knelt in front of her, resting his cheek against her leg.

"The emperor," he began, "Emperor Caracalla, he's ill. His mind is rotting, just like his body, so you won't find better physicians here. Should I call someone for you?"

Cassandra couldn't breathe, pulling away from her husband, standing up in a daze, not caring about her nudity. Even when servants walked in, she didn't cover up, lost in dark thoughts.

Emperor Caracalla's mind was afflicted by a disease? What kind of disease? She knew nothing about medicine and couldn't even guess. Did this make him more dangerous, or was his nature already cruel and violent? His smirking face flashed in her mind, his mood swings, his smile turning to a sneer...

Cassandra flinched when someone touched her from behind. She quickly scolded herself.

"Stop, he won't burst into your chambers while you're with your husband!" - she repeated, but she didn't believe it, if he wanted, he'd take her right in front of Tiberius, and no one would stop him.

She spent the entire morning trying to comfort herself, but her anxiety only grew. First, Tiberius noticed the purple bite on her skin. She managed to excuse it, saying he'd had too much wine and hadn't been gentle with her in bed. He believed her.

She was horrified again when the slave girls began to dress her.

"This isn't my clothing!" - the fabrics were too vivid and fine, and they...they smelled of aromatic oils and powder.

"Not yours, true, but we'll be here for some time, and until your clothes arrive from the villa, you need something to wear, don't you?" her husband murmured, looking at her like a piece of art. "You can't just walk around naked, can you?"

She would have preferred to parade through the palace entirely naked rather than willingly wear the clothes and jewels Caracalla had sent her, fully aware of how pleased he would be. Yet, the problem was, her nude debut would have left him equally pleased.

The stands were louder than ever, and only when they entered the imperial box did she understand why. The Colosseum was flooded!

They were late due to her distraction and sluggishness; if she had her way, they wouldn't have come at all, but there she was, seated behind Lucilla once again.

Despite the excitement of the ship battles, the clanging of metal, her eyes kept falling on the red-haired head before her.

Neither emperor acknowledged their arrival, too absorbed in the spectacle, and while Geta later gave her husband a nod of recognition, Caracalla didn't even turn around. Anger simmered in her chest. For him, last night was nothing, but for her...For her, it had haunted her all night and morning. All her thoughts were trapped in those wretched, humiliating moments.

Why did he seem to have forgotten while she, cursedly, remembered every touch? Remembered his hands were soft and hot, his scent sweet, almost intoxicating... And, of course, she remembered the bitter humiliation from his words, from how he touched her, and that Emperor Geta had watched it all.

Cassandra pressed hard on her palm where the wound was healing, trying to push away the memories. She wouldn't let him occupy her mind as well.

Yet, she couldn't relax, pandemonium broke out in the box when the ships came too close and an arrow hit the column between the emperors' chairs. The last thing she heard before Tiberius pulled her out was Emperor Geta's piercing scream.

The palace was buzzing with unbearable noise, the feast meant for evening had transitioned into the day, though the servants were not fully prepared.

Cassandra stood by a column, wine cup in hand. Her husband had left her again, off with General Acacius. The emperors were nowhere to be seen, nor were most of the Senate.

"How many do you think will be executed today?" she heard a quiet female whisper.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the emperor ordered all the gladiators on the field to be gutted," another voice answered, "you know how he is, insatiable!" A burst of giggling followed, and Cassandra stopped listening, embarrassed by the direction of their conversation.

She understood that for many, winning the emperors’ favor was a dream. But for her? She was a married woman who had spent her youth cultivating a sense of duty, loyalty, and responsibility. Why, then, had the gods abandoned her? Faithful and devoted as she was, they had thrown her to their earthly incarnations to be torn apart.

"More wine, domina?" a slave girl dutifully refilled her goblet.

The girl was young, dark-skinned, and beautiful, with large, intelligent eyes. Cassandra noticed the gilded collar around her slender neck and suddenly felt an invisible, soft, and hot hand squeezing her own throat. In a rush, she took a large gulp, wincing at the bitter taste, then handed the cup back.

"No more, thank you," she said, licking her lips nervously, knowing she wouldn't find peace in this cacophony.

"Are you not well, domina?" the girl asked, worry in her voice.

"I just...I need some time alone," she muttered quickly, stepping away from the column, only to stagger and clutch her head. What was happening to her?

"Do you want me to take you somewhere quiet, domina? You can rest and come back later," the girl didn't wait for an answer, guiding her by the elbow out of the room. Such audacity from a slave was unheard of, but Cassandra was too rattled and her head was spinning.

"Where are we going?"

They navigated past the throne room into a small, almost secretive chamber. The ceiling wasn't as high, the columns much less grand, the lighting dim and gloomy, and in the center stood a white altar, adorned with gold. In her parents' home, next to her room, there was a similar one, much more modest, of course, but dear to her heart, where she had prayed to her late mother.

"Wait outside," the words were both a sentence for her and an order for the slave.

She wanted to scream. Of course, he was here. No one was to be trusted, even the slave's kindness was a trap—cruel and painful. Was she truly nothing more than a prisoner here, a powerless plaything to entertain the young emperor?

Every time she saw him, he seemed like a different person. He was dressed in black and gold, with a golden laurel crown and an earring. Gold, gold, gold! She despised its gleam, for in it, she saw him.

Huddled against the wall, she stood frozen, afraid to move. The emperor did seem different this time—melancholic and contemplative. His pale eyes were unusually clear and sober as they met hers.

"What did you tell your husband?" His voice was different too: calm, measured. That made it all the more terrifying. Cassandra couldn’t read his mood from his face.

"Nothing, Caesar," she whispered, afraid to speak louder, as if his calm depended on it.

Caracalla turned to the altar, studying it as if seeing it for the first time. She held her breath, watching the golden laurel shimmer in the torchlight.

"Come closer."

His tone was pensive, his light brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The moment she stepped closer, the emperor’s gaze shifted to her. It slid from her neck, lower, along the colorful tunic she wore.

"My mother used to wear this," he said. To her surprise, his right hand was bare of rings as he brushed the fabric over her chest lightly, almost tenderly. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

Though still afraid, it felt different from yesterday. Worse.

Why had he forced her to come here? Why had he dressed her in the clothes of his dead mother? Cassandra cast a desperate glance at the door, but he noticed immediately. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"She often came here," he continued, "prayed to the gods," his words were vague, her thoughts growing heavier, "do you pray often?"

"Yes, Emperor," she replied, though her mind was growing heavier, duller, as though lulled into a haze that numbed her fear.

"When was the last time?"

The conversation was bizarre, so unlike what had happened the night before. Feeling almost drunk, she answered without thinking, and that's when everything started to spiral.

"Today, when that arrow almost hit you," she said, breathing heavily, it was hot, like under the midday sun, "I prayed for the next one to hit."

Her tormented mind knew he would kill her now. That Caracalla would carry out his threats, destroy her and her family. But instead, he laughed.

Grinning, he patted her shoulder as if she’d told an excellent joke. Then the sharp pain of his hand striking her cheek brought her back to reality. He had slapped her! Tears welled in her eyes, her lips trembling, but she didn’t have time to cry. The emperor grabbed her face, squeezing her jaw painfully.

"You did drink it, didn't you? That wine they brought you?" Caracalla whispered, his voice low as he leaned closer, still holding her face. "Oh, you did! I can see it. Your dilated pupils, that empty stare, struggling to think straight, hard to control your tongue? I get it," in a mock tender gesture, he caressed the cheek he'd just slapped, "for those words, your pretty head should be on a spike outside the palace, shouldn't it? But you know the rules, if you apologize properly, I forgive."

With his thumb, he drew circles on her reddened cheek, moved to her lips, tracing their outline, forcing her to open her mouth by pressing down.

"You understand now, don’t you? The aphrodisiac in the wine you drank," he pushed his finger inside, making her lips encircle it, "I wanted to play differently, but..." his face twisted with anger, "everything went terribly wrong."

Her already rapid heartbeat quickened further, she whimpered helplessly, wanting to cry. He had made her take the drug and was now exploiting her helplessness, shamelessly tormenting her mouth.

"You should say thank you, shouldn’t you? Or did you enjoy last night more? Shall I call my brother?" he chuckled, once again reverting to his usual self.

Caracalla released her face but immediately pinned her against the altar, tilting his head up and gazing at her from beneath his lowered lashes, as if admiring her, smiling.

The torchlight reflected in his eyes, his tongue flicked between his red lips in anticipation. His hand caressed her shoulder, then he removed the pin holding the fabric.

"Did the old senator fail to notice that his dear little wife isn't really his anymore?" he sneered, his fingers trailing down to the mark he'd bitten into her skin the night before, pressing down, aiming to cause as much discomfort as possible. Caracalla's breath grew heavier, his eyes followed every flicker of emotion on her face, every slight movement she made.

"I told him it was his fault... that he drank too much..." The confession fell from her lips without thought, her mind too clouded to hold it back.

"Ah! How unfortunate, and once again, the Senate takes credit for the emperor's work! But you'll comfort me, won't you?" His lips were so close, she felt his hot, uneven breath, saw his pupils, as black as hers, the smeared shadows making his eyes feverishly gleam with madness. Her gaze only darted down to his lips for a moment... and he pressed against her, pulling her into a kiss.

His hands seize her waist, gripping and tormenting, not just her body but her very soul. If she could cry, she would, but there's no energy left, only his greedy, hot mouth. To her, a kiss was something far more intimate, far more sacred than carnal union, promising tenderness and love...And even that he steals from her, kissing her shamelessly, wetly, pressing so hard she feels his hardness against her thigh.

"Let's continue our lovely conversation," he pulls back, his mouth trailing down to her neck, kissing and biting, "tell me, did Tiberius ever get you this wet?" His hand slides between her legs, rubbing through the fabric. "Even once?"

"No," she whimpers, trying to close her legs.

"Keep acting innocent, and I'll call the Praetorians to keep your legs spread wide, is that what you want?" his rough whisper burns her ear, his earring brushing her lips.

Cassandra shook her head, public humiliation was something she couldn't handle.

"Good. Obedient and well-behaved, just as a respectable matron should be," he purrs, his hand lazily caressing, more relishing her embarrassment than her body, "if you want, you can call me your husband!"

His sharp laugh slices through the narrow room.

"Undress," he commanded, his laughter gone, "I'm not going to fuck you in my mother's clothes, am I?"

She thought after all the pain, the threats, the violence, he couldn't hurt her more, but each time, it still cuts deep. With trembling hands, she hurriedly sheds her tunic, then her undergarments, laying them out as treasures, while he watches. His gaze is fixed, nostrils flaring, Cassandra sees him stroking himself under his tunic. Her cheeks burn, her clouded mind finally grasps it - he's going to take her right here, in this holy place, before ancestors and gods. Her soul will be damned, even in death!

"Touch yourself, feel how wet you are," his voice is husky, breathless, "you should be grateful to me for that, shouldn't you? That's what I've been talking about."

Head bowed, she slides her fingers between her legs, horror dawning as she realizes he's right. But why? The drug? The notion that he aroused her with his aggressive kisses, his sharp bites, his lewd whispers, she dismisses in disgust. She didn't want him, she hated him!

Seeing her shock, Caracalla broke into a smile, fully aware of her thoughts. Abandoning his arousal, the emperor circled her nipple with his thumb, watching it harden under his touch.

"It's not surprising your husband doesn't stir your passions, look at yourself," his hand traces down her body, over her breasts, stomach, to her mound, pausing again between her legs, "you're more his daughter than his wife!"

His fingers gather her moisture, rubbing, making her despise her body's response.

"So, will you take your emperor?" he asks, not for permission but to keep the game going.

She can only nod, there's no other choice.

"Say it out loud," Caracalla whispers raggedly, pushing his fingers deep inside her. Now she understands why he took off his rings.

"Yes, Caesar, I'll take whatever you give me," with those words, the last vestiges of her pride are smashed, her genuine compassion and naivety destroyed.

He takes her with a sudden, harsh thrust, only to slow down to a lazy, almost indulgent rhythm. The air is stifling, hot; sweat drips down her thighs. The only sounds are the crackle of the torch, his ragged breathing, and the vulgar, wet slaps of skin meeting skin.

As if to disgrace her further, he grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look into his eyes as he picks up the pace again. Here he is—the protector and father of his people—bestowing his gifts. He's still clothed, no need to undress; the chain around his neck jingles with each movement, his crown slipping forward.

"Doesn’t this feel good, sweetling? Don’t you feel good?"

"Cassandra," she whispers, "my name is Cassandra."

He stops, looking at her with surprise, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Is it really that important for me to know your name, Cassandra?" he teases, playfully biting her earlobe. "Has the little wife fallen in love?"

How could he think that? Anger surges within her. Her attempt to claim some dignity crumbles! But her thoughts vanish as he thrusts into her sharply, fully, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. It’s the first time she’s touched him willingly. Her simple gesture spurred him on even more, forcing a quiet whimper from her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Next time your senator fucks you, think of me, little bird, understand?" his whisper turns into a moan. She's mesmerized by his parted red lips, his light lashes fluttering, his chest heaving. A few rough thrusts later, his grip on her waist loosens, and his seed floods within her.

He lets her go, adjusting his clothes, his breathing still heavy, but his gaze has changed. Having gotten what he wanted, Caracalla loses interest.

"If you're lucky, my seed will take root, and you'll give your husband an heir!" he chuckles, playfully flicking her nose as if she were a pet. "The wench will help you dress, don't forget, there’s a feast to attend!"

Caracalla leaves her, trembling, bare, and shattered. Tears finally come, and without strength, she slides down the wall, hugging herself. The worst is the sticky feeling between her thighs he left behind. If she were to conceive...

"Domina, you shouldn't sit like this, please stand, I'll help you," the slave girl who brought her here shows no emotion, no trace of sympathy in her eyes.

"Leave me!"

"Staying here is not an option, one must respect the dead," the girl nods at the inscription on the altar.

"Lucius Septimius Severus"

He had defiled her beside his father's ashes! Now, she lets her sobs escape freely.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Hey! Thank you so much for the sweet feedback on the last chapter, I didn’t expect so many people to like my work, I’m really grateful! 💋 I promise the next chapter will be up faster (but it also depends on how this one does, your feedback means a lot to me and really inspires me).

[voghe]

LANA DEL REY BIOS

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ kiss me hard before you go 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ summertime sadness, in the land of gods and monsters i was an angel, living in the garden of evil

── .✦ all my friends tell me i should move on ⭑.ᐟ i’m driving in the night, the hood’s down it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you everything I do, I tell you all the time ❀

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆ i got that summertime, summertime sadness જ⁀➴ oh my heart, it breaks every step that I take

⋆˚ʚɞ will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? i know you will, i know you will but i just wanted you to know that baby, you're the best 𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

୧ ‧₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋🎐 ˚ ༘ watched the stars suffer for the sins of humankind

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ near or within the earshot of a wave, its noise is the most comforting

@[user] you’re my bag of diamonds, you’re my glitter and my gloom .☘︎ ݁˖

;༊ so many lovers, so many husbands, but you’re the only one that stuck ༊·˚

࿐ ♡ ˚ . here you are, my salvation, my soul renewal ‎♡‧₊˚

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ that’s where I lost myself, in the white sunshine of a loving him 🎀𓂃࣪˖

】 ๋ 𝅄๑ ᐢ🧼𝅄 ੭ they never gaze as high as heaven

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹ㅤ𝜗𝜚 my eyes always stay level to the horizon

﹕☆ the sun never sets on my mind, on my heart, on my face, and on my chest

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !! you come here and you come to me, you’re the one who’s brave

⋆˚࿔ past the orchids and the violets there is a clearing out the window ₊˚⊹

💌 bare feet on linoleum, the lights of the city outside

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ i’d like to clear a path, but the ghosts won’t let me

⋆˙⟡♡ left you in my mind, and in my heart, and in my mouth

༘⋆ your hands, my hair, the crumbling skyline

more than alive, we are temporary

── like or reblog ; © V O G H E

[x-aefx]

Hey, I have a request if that's okay!

We comfort billie after the grammys :(

I seriously just want to give her the biggest hug ever. She deserves so much more.

NEEDING YOU - BILLIE EILISH X FEM!READER

A/N: sorry this took so long I was away skiing and had little time to even open this app. Hope you like it🤍

Fluff

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ���

You stared up at the stage, watching the presenters introduce the next award and nominees, anticipation nagged at you knowing how important this award was.

Billie watched too, doing her best to conceal her anxiousness. Her hand remained in your lap, seeking your touch as a source of comfort. You gave that comfort to her as best you could in this nerve wrecking moment, giving her hand light squeezes, caressing her knuckles with your fingers, and occasionally placing small kisses on the back of her hand.

The nominees were introduced, you smiled proudly when you seen Billie's picture on the stage.

When the moment finally came and the winner for album of the year was about to be announced, you gave Billie a gentle kiss on her cheek, knowing how nervous she must be. She smiled at your gesture, the anticipation clear on her face.

You both stared up at the stage, the crowd around you cheering and urging the winner to be revealed. Some held their breath and others looked confident.

"As selected by the thirteen thousand voting members of the recording academy, the Grammy goes to-"

Their was a pause as the crowd waited. You took a deep breath in, bringing the back of Billie's hand up to you mouth, and placing a gentle kiss on it.

"Cowboy Carter!"

Your heart dropped as the winner was announced and the room began cheering. All around you people began cheering, standing up and showing love. You began clapping too, knowing if you didn't show respect you would face backlash online.

You turned to face Billie. Her eyes were glossy with tears, there was no mistaking it. She had a small smile on her face as she tried to hide her disappointment as she clapped and watched Beyoncé walk onto the stage. You took her hand again and leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

"You'll always be a winner in my eyes. I'm so proud of you."

Billie turned to look at you with a grateful smile. It should have relieved you to see her smile, but you knew her too well, you could tell she was hurting you could see it in her eyes.

The smile you had fallen in love with wasn't quite as big, and her eyes that you thought were the most beautiful thing, weren't as bright.

Billie didn't say anything. Her eyes were trained on Beyoncé as she gave her acceptance speech, her music fading as she spoke. You didn't push Billie to speak further, knowing this wasn't the time or place, especially with cameras all around the room, ready to catch any glimpse of vulnerability or opposition to the winner.

When the award ceremony was over Billie had slowly come back to herself but still you could tell something was wrong, you waited for the perfect time to talk to her fully, until you found it you made sure to keep checking up on her throughout the Grammys after party.

You had found yourself talking with a few people, getting completely swept in a conversation, mostly about the people you had seen or what they were wearing.

"It's a vintage dress, only worn twice before." You listened as the woman in front of you talked, nodding along and sipping on your wine.

Suddenly you felt two arms wrapping themselves around your waist, then you inhaled the familiar vanilla scent and felt her body press up behind yours.

Billie remained quiet as she rested her chin against your shoulder. Her eyes slowly shut for a second as she swayed your body along with yours, she had a small frown on her face as she tightened her grip around you.

The lady I front of you stopped talking once she seen Billie, she took one glance and looked up at you knowingly. "I'll leave you two to it." She smiled.

You nodded at her, giving her a small 'goodbye'

"Home?" Billie mumbled once the woman had left. She seemed too tired or either too sad to say a full sentence.

You kissed her forehead as you interlocked your hand with her's. "Yeah, let's go home." You agreed, leading Billie to the suv that would take both of you home.

The car ride home was quiet and quick. Billie leaned her body against your side, her head resting on your shoulder as she looked out the window on your side, the streetlights shining against her face as the car passed them. You played with her hair, which calmed her down and relaxed her.

When you arrived home Billie stayed quiet, unlocking the front door and leading you upstairs to her bedroom which you shared. A small sigh left her as she sat down on the edge of her bed, her shoulders dropped as she stared up at the ceiling.

She suddenly looked far more defeated and sad then she had earlier. You supposed that was because finally she was in the comfort of her own home, free from camera's and watching eyes, finally not having to wear a mask over her true feelings.

Your heart sank as you took in her sad expression, hating to see it. You smiled sympathetically at her as you walked over to her. When you stood only a foot away from her, Billie rested her forehead against your stomach as she remained seated on the bed whilst you were standing. Your hands caressed the side of her neck and her cheek, offering her comfort in the small ways you could.

"I worked so hard on that album." Billie whispered against the fabric of your dress, her voice slightly breaking.

"I put my everything into it, the lyrics, the meaning, the cover, the production, the videos-" With each word Billie slowly began getting more frustrated, her voice raising.

Noticing this you put both your hands on her shoulders, pulling her body away from yours and making her look up at you.

"The award doesn't define the worth of the album." You reminded her.

Billie sighed rubbing her hands over her face. "I know, I know." She muttered, but you didn't believe it.

You sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, Billie turned to face you as you spoke.

"Remember how excited you were the day you got to make the album cover? How proud you felt when you seen the finished work?" You asked her. Billie just nodded her head.

You continued, "or when you couldn't stop laughing when your mom was in complete silence when you played 'lunch' for her the first three times? How everyone cried when they heard 'skinny', everyone's shocked faces when they heard the beat drop in 'l'amour de ma vie'? The excitement when people found out 'blue' was being released?"

Billie sniffled as she listened to, chuckling softly at the fond memories you talked about.

"Most importantly, how happy you felt when you finally were able to put your feelings into songs, exactly as you wanted them? The love your friends and family showed the album, the praise online and in real life. You can't forget all the people who related and felt seen by the songs, who danced and cried to them, just like you did. That's what matters."

Billie smiled up at you, her eyes teary as she leaned her forehead against yours.

"Billie you made the most special, creative and authentic album that you worked so hard on. No award could ever change its brilliance or reduce the effort you put into it." You spoke firmly to her, wanting to make sure she was hearing what you were saying and that she believed it.

Billie looked up at you with big, thankful and loving eyes. She sniffled and messily wiped away the tears staining her cheeks with her hands.

"You love the album right?" You asked her, "and your proud of it?"

Without hesitation, Billie nodded her head as a yes. You smiled at that.

"Well, that's all that matters." You muttered as you pressed a kiss to her lips. As you were pulling away Billie's hand found the nape of your neck. She pulled your face back to hers and connected your lips once more, this time for a longer and a more passionate kiss.

Her other hand gripped the side of your thigh firmly, not letting you move away from her.

You cupped her cheeks, your fingers dancing in patterns over her soft skin.

When you both pulled away for air, your foreheads rested against each other, faces dipped downwards as both your breathing was heavy. Billies hands found your waist and gave you a slight squeeze.

"Thank you for cheering me up." Billie whispered.

You smiled at her words, kissing the tip of her nose. "Anytime." You giggled.

At the sound of your laugh, Billie looked up at you with her familiar big and bright smile and something akin to mischief in her blue eyes.

"You tired?" She asked you with a smirk.

You shook your head no.

"Good." Billie said. She pushed you down onto the bed, her body ontop of you as you both laughed and giggled. The sadness that had previously filled the room quickly disappearing.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

[kiiozawa]

and i know it's going to eat you up inside

As much as sukuna had been groveling in my drabbles, I decided to write the breakup scene between sukuna and reader.

It got kinda long, so I put it under a read more so it doesn't take up ppl's dashes xoxo

☼ pairing; ex-bf! sukuna and server! reader (this is reader breaking up with sukuna)

☼ warnings; sfw, this is basically a prequel, but there isn't a happy ending here. slight toxicity. sukuna may be a little ooc here idk bro i'm new to this, modern!au non-curse!au, reader is called princess, brat, sweetheart,

☼ word count; 1,047

☼ notes; thanks to everyone who likes my little universe!! i appreciate it. 🌺🤞

Your bedroom is pitch black despite it being late morning already. The gunk in the inner part of your eyes feels gross as you rise from your slumber. You have last night’s mascara running down your tear-stained cheeks, but at least you don’t have to work a shift at the restaurant tonight. Time feels like it's moving so slowly yet too fast simultaneously. You swear that you have heart palpitations as you make a poor effort to get out of bed. 

Bzz-Bzz-Bzz

The familiar sound comes from your phone which is at 18%. The blue screen is the only source of light: 23 voicemails and 45 missed calls from Sukuna, your now ex-boyfriend. Ice fills your veins and you want to go back to sleep again. Despite your better judgment, you decide to listen to the voicemails, starting with the first one and making your way to the most recent one.

[9:38 PM]

“You can't be serious. Princess, this has to be a joke. You wouldn't break up with me over this. C'mon, answer my calls, baby. You wouldn't do this.” 

End of voicemail.

[11:12 PM]

"Listen you fucking brat, pick up my calls. I'm not fucking around. You're not breaking up with me. You can't."

End of voicemail

[1:56 AM]

"You're mad, I know that sweetheart. I'll take you to your favorite restaurant tomorrow and I'll get you flowers again. We can talk it out."

End of voicemail

[3:02 AM]

"Princess, I tried to stop by your apartment again, but you didn't answer. You're my girl, princess. You should know that by now."

End of voicemail 

[9:45 AM]

"I'm still going to be here for you sweetheart. Call me when you come back to your senses."

End of voicemail

Silence fills your room as you finish the very last voicemail. The automated voice asks you if you want to delete the messages, but you can't bring yourself to do it—your phone powers down from being left uncharged during the night. Fresh tears start to bubble up, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep your sobs in. 

A storm is brewing in your heart because a part of you wants to call Sukuna back and tell him that you made a mistake. The other part of you reminds you that you left for a reason. The memory of last night comes flooding back in as tears roll down your cheeks. 

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

You accidentally tell Sukuna "I love you." at the end of your call only to be met with silence on the other end. It has only been a couple of months since you began dating the tall tattooed man, but it comes out so naturally that you don’t even realize it until it is too late. You quickly excuse yourself and tell Sukuna that you’ll see him in a little bit for your date. 

You could feel your nerves going haywire in your body as you check yourself out for the 10th time in your vanity. Surely, Sukuna will tell you that he loves you, right? He might have the empathy capacity of a walnut, but he will definitely assure you that he does love you, right? Except, you don’t hear those reciprocating words come out of his mouth throughout the whole date. The earlier nerves were replaced by a dull pain in your chest. You’re hoping and praying that Sukuna will just say it as you’re in the passenger seat of his car when he pulls up to your apartment building. It starts to dawn on you that he isn’t going to tell you those four little words that you yearn to hear. And it sends your heart to your stomach. 

"Umm... About earlier-" Your voice is shaky as you try to find the courage only for it to be in vain. 

"Don't worry about it." Sukuna interrupts as he leans over to kiss you only for you to hold up your palms to his chest and look at him with wide eyes. 

"Excuse me? Is that really all you have to say?" Frustration coating your words. You hear Sukuna grumble as he looks at you with what you can only categorize as annoyance. 

"Tch, you shouldn't be so needy, babe. Y'know that I don't like clingy girls." He mocks as he leans back into his seat, pulling a cigarette out of his pack from his leather jacket. 

Something in you snaps and you swear you feel the moment your heart shatters into tiny million pieces. Heat coats your cheeks as you press your lips together. You have your fists so tight that they turn your knuckles white. Despite the pain in your heart, your eyes remain surprisingly dry as you open the door. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, doll." He says as he exhales the smoke from his cigarette. 

"No you won't."

"I thought you didn't work tomorrow?" Sukuna raises an eyebrow. 

"I don't. I'm saying that I'm breaking up with you, Sukuna." The words feel like they weren't coming from you, but you have your resolve of steel. You slam the door shut as you run into your apartment building. Even through the glass doors, you hear Sukuna’s booming voice calling out your name. Still, you refuse to turn back. Your phone buzzes and you don't need to look to know who is calling you as you enter your unit. 

Once you get into your room, you yank the sheets off your bed because it all smells like him. A fresh change of sheets later, you lay down as tears suddenly start to escape your eyes. All you want is to answer Sukuna’s calls, you want to give up and tell him to come up and hold you and comfort you.

Soon enough everything in your room starts to remind you of Sukuna. The dresser he put together for you, the pictures of him on the wall, the nightstand where he would put his pack of Camel cigarettes. You feel like you are being haunted as the tears keep flowing out. Your choked sobs are silent as the buzzing of your phone fills the room. You have to stay strong because you deserve better. If Sukuna can’t tell you that he loves you, then you’ll move on, right?

 well we all know how that works out don't we rip reader

[wooziorgans]

tell it to my heart [series masterlist]

idol!woozi x male soloist!reader

tags vary per chapter.

general tags: bi-curious/bisexual reader. openly gay jihoon. multiple queer members of svt. mentions of homophobia and internalized homophobia. gay sex. anal sex. blowjobs. rimming. ass eating. bottom jihoon. sub jihoon.

word count: 18.7k so far

status: ongoing.

1. through me

genre: smut. fluff. mild angst.

word count: 8.7k

summary: after a particularly rough breakup, y/n has time to reevaluate his sexuality. and, well, you’ll never know if you never try; even if the guilt eats you alive.

2. damage gets done

genre: angst. smut. fluff. hurt/comfort.

word count: 10k

summary: a long, difficult conversation puts y/n and jihoon on the same page, but an impromptu visit from y/n’s parents make that page seem chapters away. the best way to get over your feelings? fucking them out.

3. first time

genre: smut. heavy fluff. mild angst.

word count: n/a

summary: things have been going well in terms of y/n exploring exploring his sexuality, but giving up control is uncharted territory. jihoon understands that, and is willing to hold him through it. even if it’s difficult.

4. casual

genre: smut. fluff.

word count: n/a

summary: the goal of sex is to get off, but this time it’s simply to enjoy each others company. things start to seem a lot less casual when the first sparks of love begin to make themselves known.

5. all things end

genre: heavy angst. smut.

word count: n/a

summary: no one was supposed to find out, but soonyoung can’t keep himself from prying his way into jihoon’s studio. when faced with the knowledge of what y/n has been doing, it’s all too much. too much of a good thing won’t be good for long, all things must end, and all y/n can do is run.

6. inferno

genre: fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. light smut.

word count: n/a

summary: two weeks of silence from jihoon come to an end when y/n hears wind of him not doing well. y/n’s had a lot of time to think, and he knows. sometimes you just know.

7. sunlight

genre: fluff. smut.

word count: n/a

summary: everything has always been so easy with jihoon, even navigating a new relationship. there’s never been anything more golden than him; not when he talks like a man and tastes like the sun.

chapter 7 is the end of the series (for now.) i might write an epilogue of sorts if anything prompts it

[baby-yongbok]

Look At Me

Han Jisung x Afab!Reader

☼ Genre: Fluff ☼Summary: Jisung is just your friend... right? ☼ Word Count: 1.2k ☼ a/n: This is set up in a retail kind of setting. I pictured Target cause I used to work there 😭. I didn't edit this cause I'm running around like a headless chicken to prepare for vacation. I hope that you enjoy!

✧ Masterlist ✧

Jisung is just your friend. Your favorite co-worker and the only person on your 7pm to 11pm shift that can make you smile. 

Jisung is just your friend that you’re always teamed up with to collect the carts from the parking lot before the store closes. He makes a game out of it, chasing you with carts and racing you to the front of the store. Sometimes when the parking lot is nearly empty he picks you up and puts you in the last cart that he collects. His arms wrap around you with a soft but firm grip as his chest vibrates with laughter, you love it… platonically of course.

Jisung is just your friend that brings you coffee before every shift. Your heart broke when you started to cut down caffeine. You thought that that would end his sweet gestures but he surprised you by bringing you an herbal tea instead, his favorite flavor that he hoped you’d like. Since he likes it you love it.

Jisung is just your friend that comes up behind you when he sees you struggling to get something off of a taller shelf. His hands grounds your hips and his back is against yours as he tells you to let him give it a shot. The small grunts that thrums through him as he stretches himself behind you makes you hot. He chuckles when he realizes that he’s too short to reach it too. “I’ll go get a ladder since we’re both tiny.”

Jisung is just your friend who gives you one of his wireless earbuds when you’re working in the same department. He shared a playlist with you on Spotify so that you can both DJ while you’re organizing the aisles. You can hear him humming along from the opposite side of the aisle, he sounds better than the song in your ear. So much better that you turn the music down until he’s almost all that you can hear. 

Jisung is just your friend who holds your hand to guide you through the crowd of the Saturday afternoon rush. He twists and turns and dodges children running around the busy store with you close behind him. He stops to answer questions, turning to you with an adorable furrow when he doesn’t remember where something is. He holds your hand all the way until you get to the break room. “I can finally breathe.” He jokes as he lets your fingers fall from his. “Let’s hide in here, yeah?” He smiles at you and you at him. 

Jisung is just your friend who buys you lunch on random days throughout the week. He’ll disappear from your section minutes before lunch is supposed to start then he’ll pop up in the break room with your favorite stuff. Whatever you’re craving is what he’s buying. “I just want you to eat well. You worked hard today, you deserve it. Now eat before they throw us back out there.” 

Jisung is just your friend who's never spoken a word about his girlfriend. Does he have one? Is he single? You don’t really care… cause you’re not into him like that but you’re curious. He’s cute, really cute so he couldn’t possibly be single, right?

Jisung is just your friend. He’s your very single friend. “I haven’t dated in months. After my ex moved I just wanted to focus on myself, ya know?” The two of you are pushing carts filled to the top as he ponders his thoughts. “I could start seeing someone now but I think that I’m just waiting for the right person to look at me.” He looks over at you but you’re staring down at your cart. He smiles to himself.

Jisung is just your friend who drives you home on nights when your shift runs a bit later than it should. “Can’t have a pretty girl like you walking home near midnight.” You always blush when he teases you. He opens the passenger door for you with a cute small smile and you look away from him. Why does he always make you blush so hard?

Jisung is just your friend who turns up his radio and sings along to the song he’s been wanting to show you for days. He says that it’s his new favorite but you notice that it’s not what he typically likes. It’s softer and slower than his usual taste. You ask him what he likes about it as he turns onto your block.

Jisung is just your friend who looks you in the eye once he parks “It reminds me of you.”

Jisung is just your friend. Jisung is just your friend. He didn’t mean it like that .

Jisung did mean it like that. He turns towards you, shifting in the driver's seat and pushing his hair out of his face. He turns the radio down so that you can hear him. He needs you to hear him. “I know that we’ve been friends for awhile and I’ve loved every second of that but I don’t think that I wanna be friends anymore. I wanna know if you’ll allow me to be more than that.”

Jisung is not just your friend, he's the boy that you’ve had a crush on for months and he’s confessing to you right now. He’s making your heart race and your leg shake and your mouth dry. He’s looking over at you with hopeful eyes hoping that you’ll say yes to him or anything at all at this point.

Jisung is your crush that you’d be a fool to turn down. You muster up all of the courage hiding within you to sit up straighter and talk to him. You work yourself up to confess right back. Words start to form and you slowly push them out of your mouth, molding each one as perfectly as you can in the moment. “I would love for you to be more than that.”

Jisung is your crush who smiles to himself when you confess but you miss it, you’re looking away from him like you usually do when he makes you feel like this. When he makes you feel like you’re hugging the sun with a butterfly garden in your stomach. He thinks it’s cute but he wants to see your eyes. He wants you, the right person, to look at him.

Jisung is your crush who leans towards you and gently reaches for your hand that’s resting on your shaking knee. The touch snaps your attention over to him. Your eyes are finally on him. “Could you say that again? But this time, will you look at me? I wanna see your pretty eyes when you confess.” Your gaze wavers and he chuckles, fuck you’re so cute. “I’m over here.” He teases, big boba eyes shining as they try to find yours. 

You’re looking at Jisung, sparkling eyes staring into each other when you confess again. His hand holds yours as he pulls you through the emotions you’ve been storing away in your chest. He pulls you right into this moment, grounding you with his gaze and sharing beguiling smiles. 

Jisung was just your friend but now he’s so much more. 

Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed!

Likes, Reblogs and Comments make my day! Thank you for all support, it keeps me going!

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

Tag List: @teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling, @pastellbunno , @lixiluvs

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 833 words | briefly a little suggestive

series masterlist ; main masterlist

When the boys get home, you’re in the kitchen finishing up some soup. You don’t want Henry to get sick with the changing weather and him starting school, so you’ve gone a bit overboard with the veggies. The front door slams shut, and you hear the low timbre of James’ voice followed by a high-pitched whine from Henry. No doubt, James is reminding him to take off his shoes. You can easily picture him crouching down, gently encouraging Henry to do it himself in that low, soothing voice of his.

“Mama!” Henry shrieks, and your heart tightens at the sound of it. Months ago, you and James had sat him down, letting him know he could call you “mama” if he wanted to. Ever since then, he’d stopped calling you “darling,” and hearing the new name still tugs at your heartstrings every time.

You set the ladle down, ready to bend down and scoop Henry up. But the moment you see him, you freeze, lips parting in surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch James stepping into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, silently watching the scene unfold.

“Do you like them?” Henry bounces on his toes, his big brown doe eyes—made even larger by his glasses—blinking up at you. A lump forms in your throat as you take in the sight.

“I love them.” You gasp, bending down as Henry shuffles toward you, grinning and bobbing his head side to side, proudly showing off his new blue frames. You’re certain James told him not to touch the lenses, judging by how his little hands fidget at his sides, resisting the urge to reach up and adjust them.

You wrap your arms around him, scooping him up to get a better look. 

“Do I look like a big boy? Daddy said I did.” As he asks, you’re hit with the realization of just how grown-up he looks. He’s no longer the baby James would frantically call you about when he was sick, or the mischievous toddler who loved yanking the scrunchie from your hair, giggling uncontrollably as you pretended you didn’t know who had stolen it.

“You do. You look just like daddy.” You murmur, eyes flickering over to James, who is watching you both with a soft look. 

Henry squirms in your arms, “I need Mr. G!” He exclaims suddenly, and you let him down so he can run and get his stuffed rabbit that wore a pair of glasses. You figure so he can have dinner with the three of you.

You watch him run off before turning your gaze to James, “You didn’t tell me he was getting glasses.”

“We wanted to surprise you.” James says with a smile, pushing away from the counter to meet you. His hands gently cup your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his gaze as your arms instinctively wrap around his waist.

“He’s so grown up, Jamie.” You sigh, your voice thick with emotion. James gives you a soft, knowing smile.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I nearly had a meltdown in the office the first time he put them on.”

The room falls quiet for a moment before James leans down, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips. It’s short-lived, though, as Henry suddenly cries out that he can’t find his bunny and needs help. James sighs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours for a beat longer before pulling away with a quiet chuckle.

“Look at that—he’s not all that grown up yet. He still needs us.” James says, a fond smile tugging at his lips. You smile softly in return, reluctantly letting him go so he can search for Mr. G.

“I love seeing him grow up, but I oddly miss the baby phase.” You sigh, and James nods in understanding.

“As hard as it was, the baby stage was my favorite. Probably because you were by my side the whole time.” James winks, then turns to head toward the stairs.

You watch him as he goes, his movements deliberate, but you catch his attention with a teasing edge to your voice. “Maybe we should have another one then.”

The words slip from your lips with a soft smile, and you can’t help but laugh when James almost stumbles on the steps, his foot catching awkwardly as he spins around, his breath hitching in his chest. His eyes lock on yours, wide and searching, as if he’s trying to gauge whether you’re serious.

“You’d better not be messing with me, darling.” He breathes out, his voice low and thick with desperation. After nearly a year of dating, and given that he’s known you for almost a decade, with you having embraced the role of Henry’s mum from the very start, he’s been waiting patiently to hear those words.

Your stomach twists in a way that sends heat coursing through you, and you offer him a slow, knowing smile. “I’m not,”you reply, your voice soft but certain.

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[k4lenz]

“schlatt forced me to do this” ✮ tumblr version

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a/n: hi!!!! my awesome amazing mutual @frostedsugarcookiehearts has nominated me to share the love and pull up some of my favourite chuckle sandwich fics/writers, so here we are !! sharing the love rn *rubs hands together evilly* and i’ll def be adding more to this over time!!

i don’t really know who to nominate because all of my close mutuals have already done it so erm PLEASE ANYONE WHO SEES THIS AND WANTS TO DO IT JOIN IN!!! you can say i basically nominated you

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

ted

writers: @laambfuzz , @obsessivestar

cinematography adventure by @writingduhh

i love me a good fluff fic, and this is super cute !!!!

“what if it’s all a romcom?” by @obsessivestar

I’m actually obsessed this series is so so cute and i love it!! ted is really well written and the plot is gorgeous :)

first meetings by @laambfuzz

I LOOOOVE THIS ITS SO SO CUTE (scroll down for teds bit)

dilf next door by @laambfuzz

the plot. the idea, the writing, the everything. ALL IMMACULATE.

schlatt

writers: @frostedsugarcookiehearts , @michibap , @kiddiesmores , @memento-rory , @laambfuzz

the year you died by @frostedsugarcookiehearts

um. okay so this fic had me bawling my eyes out. teddy is an incredible writer especially fluff, but this angst was beautiful. jaw dropping crying sobbing actually beautifully written and i loved it so so much. im also def not biased bc teddy is awesome ok.

86 mahi-mahi! by @kiddiesmores

this series holds a special place in my heart. it’s the first series i showed my friend when she finally got into chuckle sandwich and UGH i love it so so much !!! <3

my heart is buried in st. lucia by @memento-rory

this series is so beautiful and incredible, and one of the first schlatt series i read when first getting into tumblr. i know everyone’s already recommending it, but it genuinely deserves all the praise ever.

temporary amnesia by @kiddiesmores

SMUT. giggles and kicks feet

hockey!gf headcanons by @michibap

makes me kick my feet and giggle every time. there’s a few more drabbles with hockey!gf and i love them all

lunch munch club by @laambfuzz

SMUT ONCE AGAIN. i love this series so much aagaaagggggh goes feral

charlie

writers: @slimeypaws , @frostedsugarcookiehearts … is it crazy for me to say these two r my only favs.. I LOVE YOU MOOTS

talk nerdy to me by @slimeypaws

RAHH RAHHH RAHHHH I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT.

you’re a part time lover and a full time friend! by @frostedsugarcookiehearts

can y’all tell i js love teddys writing? <3

jeremiah 17:9 by @frostedsugarcookiehearts

wowee. this is actually just the cutest ever.

-

guys i don’t read that many charlie fics.. i love him so much but my only favs r my moots… GO READ THEIR FICS AHH

ted + schlatt

writers: @memento-rory , @michibap

meeting ted and schlatt at a halloween party by @rabbitsrams

this is SMUT do not click on it if you don’t like smut but i love this fic and the plot sm.

the three of you call it quits. by @memento-rory

crying heart shattering

cool for the summer by @michibap

holds this fic close to my heart and hugs it

-

go send love to all these amazing people i love them all

if you want to be untagged please lmk im v sorry !

i should probably go study now

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[gigi-loveless]

Can u do a little story on Ellie comforting reader after a panic attack? This is my first time requesting and ily and ur story's smmm!!

yes sweet angel!! thank you so much!

warnings - reader has a panic attack, nondescript reason for the event

authors note - i love you all. if you ever need support, my dms are always open for anything. anxious girlies rise 🫡

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you don’t deserve her. you deserve nothing. you are nobody.

vision getting hazy quickly, you knock against the walls of yours and ellie’s shared apartment to signal something, anything to your girlfriend, all while fighting your body to allow you the essence of life. where is she?

“el….el!….”

the thoughts overtake your consciousness. lungs heaving, you collapse on the glacial tile of your bathroom, tugging on your hair to distract from the dizzying nightmares plaguing you.

“hey, honey i heard a crash is-“ ellie asks nonchalantly, before setting her eyes on her girlfriend, curled up on the floor, fighting for consciousness.

“hey, hey. it’s me. it’s just me.” ellie explains, sitting her back up against the bathtub, pulling you to sit upright against her chest. “it’s just me,” putting light pressure on your shoulders, your tears pattering onto her forearms. “you’re safe here. we’re at home, nothings getting through me, okay?” the auburn girl coos, breathing steadily against your back, her body practically begging for you to join in unison. to no avail, your breathing worsens, your limbs beginning to tremble. ellie gently, but quickly flips you towards her, quickly shedding herself of her rings as to not overwhelm you when she plants her hands on your cheeks tenderly.

“i know it’s scary. m’ not goin’ anywhere honey….oh, and- and chai is downstairs- and dude…he took the biggest shit today and that fucker missed the litter box….” she chuckles, your breathing slowly beginning to shakily restore itself. you girlfriend just can’t help but be a dork no matter the situation, it’s one of your absolute favorite things about her.

“you don’t need to tell me what’s wrong, but you know i’ll never judge you. i love you.” she reassures you, pressing her lips to a stray tear staining down your skin. the heavy white fog that plagued your vision softens, the familiar design of ellie’s tattoo coming into focus. you reach a quivering finger out, tracing the moths wings.

“y’want some sour gummies? tap my left hand for yes, right hand for no.”

you flick her left knuckle gently, cracking a weak smile.

“there’s my girl. here, i’ll help you.”

ellie encapsulates you in her muscular limbs, the all too familiar scent of sandalwood and citrus flooding your senses. her worn out flannel the perfect spot to find solace from your worries.

as ellie sits you down on the couch, the tortoise shell blur of your kitten races by.

“hey! c’mere you little fuck!” ellie taunts, capturing your sweet cat with a protesting meow, placing him in your lap. chai immediately curls up against you, purring gently. “now you better be nice to her.”

ellie reappears quickly with a bag of sour worms and a glass of water, pulling your legs over her lap. how attentive she is, sensing every shift in your body language, happily adjusting anything possible just to pull that heart melting smile out of you.

“t-thank you.”

“s’my job stupid. i love you.”

you giggle softly, plucking a gummy worm out of her calloused fingers.

“love you too, el.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

join my taglist!

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[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Can I get 34 from the prompt list with Max Verstappen?

burn it all down ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Prompt: 34. “You could put a knife to my throat and I wouldn’t flinch.”

₊ ⊹ mv x reader ★

₊ ⊹ fluff + angst + mafia au ★

masterlist ☾☼

There is the city outside, beyond that high-rise apartment window full of bright lights against the dim darkness that spreads out like living darkness across the room. This air was thick with tension only found in the underworld of crime and clung to your sweaty body as you sat along the edge of the worn, leather couch. The collapse of your father's empire was suffocating to him.

You had always played the part of the dutiful daughter, watching from the shadows as men like Max Verstappen rose to power within your father's rival mafia family. But tonight, everything had changed. Max wasn't just a soldier anymore. He was a betrayal.

You didn't know when it was exactly—that point at which the lines blurred between enemies and something else—you just knew you couldn't deny it anymore. Max was no longer a thorn in your side; he had morphed into a problem.

Now, standing before you, clad in his black leather jacket, looking more ominous than ever, he had become the problem you no longer had the luxury to ignore.

Max entered, his eyes piercing into yours and cold, yet intense, but at the same time, was a flicker of another emotion. Was it maybe regret? Or something deeper still? You didn't know. But one thing did you know for sure- you knew Max Verstappen was there not as a foe, but as the man who made a decision.

"You shouldn't be here," you said, your voice steady, despite the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Max didn't flinch at your words. He only took a step closer, his presence suffocating. "I came to see you. To tell you the truth."

The words felt like a punch to the chest. He was here to betray his family. To betray everything he had fought for all these years.

"You think I'll believe you?" you said, your hand curling into a fist by your side. "You were never supposed to be my enemy, Max. I never wanted this."

Max’s jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a hard line. “I didn’t either. But I’ve spent my entire life being trained to be this monster, to be a weapon for my family. And for what? To destroy yours? To keep killing without ever stopping to think about why?"

He was angry now, his voice low and rough. "I'm done with this life. I'm done being the monster. I'm done being a pawn in a game that will never end."

Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you, and suddenly, he was right there, standing too close, his presence overwhelming. You could feel the heat from his body, the rawness in his words.

"Then why now?" You couldn't help but ask, his decision settling in like lead. "Why come to me now, Max? Do you think I can just forget everything?"

Too much had happened. He had killed too many of your people for you to just forgive him. He hadn't known, but that didn't change the outcome.

He shook his head slowly, eyes softening for the briefest moment. "No. But I cannot keep living this lie. I'm not going to be the one who keeps killing for the sake of power anymore. I'm finished."

You met his eyes, the battle warring inside you. A part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you wanted to trust him, wanted to toss aside the years of hatred, of bloodshed. But the other part of you—the daughter of a mafia boss, trained from birth to distrust men like him—couldn't.

"Max, you think you can just leave them all behind? You think you can walk away without consequences?" Your voice was shaking now, barely contained. "Do you really think you can just walk away from your family?"

Max's face hardened, the pain in his eyes a reflection of the decision he had already made. "I don't care anymore. I would burn it all to the ground for you."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words landed like a strike to the heart.

Max stepped closer, but before you could process it, the door slammed open, and three figures appeared in the doorway. Daniel, Lando, and Charles— Max's mafia brothers, who had somehow followed him to her house, to her room.

Daniel, always the level-headed one, was the first to speak, his voice stern. "Max, what the hell are you doing? You can't just walk away. You can't—"

"Shut up, Daniel," Max interrupted, his voice filled with fury. "You don't understand."

Lando crossed his arms, his expression part incredulity, part anger. "You're really throwing everything away for her? For her?" he spat, nodding toward you. "You're making a huge mistake, Max. You can't just betray the family like this."

Charles, normally calm, looked between you and Max, his eyes narrowed. "This isn't just about her, Max. This is about everything we've worked for. You know what they'll do to you if you walk away. You're putting us all in danger."

Max didn't flinch. He didn't back down. His gaze was unyielding as he turned to face them, his voice steely. "I've already made my decision.". I don't care if they come after me. I don't care if they kill me. I'm doing this for her." He pointed to you, his finger trembling slightly. "I'm doing this because I can't live in this bloodbath anymore. And if I have to choose between them and her, I choose her."

The room fell silent.

You could feel the weight of Max's words—words that could tear apart everything he had worked for, everything he had fought to protect. Your heart ached for him. And yet, despite the betrayal, you felt something else—something far deeper. Hope.

"Max, you can't be serious," you whispered, voice breaking. "You know what will happen if you do this. I know what'll happen. My family could kill you. Your own family would kill you. Hell, for all you know, I'm a ploy and I'm going to kill you at your most vulnerable state!"

A subtle softening crept up Max's features as the words fell, his tone one of sincerity, "You could put a knife to my throat, and I wouldn't flinch," Those last words slammed home, washing into you like a tsunami wave. You think you saw, suddenly in his eyes, a better reason than just love-for it was also freedom-to be able to give and take from one another end.

"You really would? You really would leave everything that you've been trained for, that you've worked for, that you've been loyal to, for me?" you asked, your voice breaking and trembling as you took a step closer to him.

Max's jaw softened, a little something in his gaze. "I already did."

For a long moment, the world outside seemed to fade, and the only thing in your existence was the both of you within that room. Your enemies were still there, in the doorway, but Max was resolute about what he was saying, his decision solid and concrete: he had already chosen.

And so had you.

"I can't promise you an easy life, Max," you said softly. "But if you're really willing to risk it all for me… then I'll fight for you."

Max stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours. "Then let's burn it all down together."

The room was silent and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you realized that no matter how hard the world fought against you, nothing could break the two of you apart.

The days that followed were chaos. Max's betrayal was not left unexposed, and the repercussions were brutal. But with you by his side, the two of you fought back against the storm, tearing down the remnants of both mafia families. It wasn't easy. There were losses, close calls, and moments where it felt like the world was trying to pull you both apart.

But you stayed. Together.

Max Verstappen had burned his past to the ground, but in doing so, he had built something new. With you. And in the end, it was that bond—the one forged in blood and fire—that kept you both unbreakable.

✧˚ ʚɞ˚ ༘✿ ♡ ⋆｡˚

i tried something different this time! let me know if y'all like it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04