#'light flows in from the opened door/i want to stay by your side forever after this too/theres been no other choice for me since long ago'

[thefreshprinceofjunes]

Do you remember before? We stood facing each other on opposite sides of that door. Now we stand side-by-side. Let's go home together this time.

[aquaticmercy]

Almost Kisses

Summary : Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : very slight mention of food and mild cursing

Requested by : @buckys-wintersoldier

Word count : 1.8k

Note : This one was very fun! I was listening to Work Song By Hozier while writing this, so it's safe to say the song served as a bit of inspiration, too. I did say it would be >1k word blurb but I have once again got over the limit.

Requests are open!

Kissing you had become second nature to Bucky. Every morning when he woke up, every night before bed. It was part of his routine, it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed you when he passed you in the kitchen, when you laughed at something ridiculous, when you weren’t paying attention. He kissed you just because he could.

It was hard for him to remember a time before that, but once, kissing you had seemed impossible.

The first time the thought even crossed his mind, you were standing outside his apartment door, trying to get his attention. Sam had called you, worried about him after days of radio silence, days of ignoring texts and phone calls from both him and his therapist. 

Sam could get through to Bucky on most days, but on the really hard ones, when the weight of his past pulled him under the covers and refused to let him go, there was only one person who could reach him. You. 

Somehow, Bucky had imprinted on you in a way he never had with anyone else. Sam wasn’t stupid— he knew that Bucky was down hard for you. Hell, everyone who ever saw the two of you interact knew that Bucky was in love with you. Everyone except you.

Because love had to keep you blind like that, at least for a while.

"Bucky?" Your voice was soft that day, muffled by the door separating you from him. You knocked again, gentler this time. "I brought you pizza. Just cheese, no toppings—your favorite." You paused, like you were waiting for signs of life, anything, but the silence was deafening. You lowered your voice, a whisper now. "I cut off the burnt bits, the way you like it."

The door creaked open, just a sliver of light pouring in from the apartment. Bucky's figure stood in the shadow, his frame filling the doorway, but his voice was small and frail. "Extra cheese?"

"Of course, Buck." Your lips curved up knowing you’ve essentially made it in. You slipped inside the moment he stepped back. 

That night, you didn’t leave his side. You pulled him out of the dark waters he had drowned himself in. He told you about his nightmares, the memories that wouldn’t let him breathe. You listened, laughed when he cracked the odd dark joke, and cried while exchanging stories. Minutes blurred into hours, and eventually, you fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. 

That was the night he realized what you did to him. You didn’t just pull him out of his pit of despair��� you made him feel alive. Electric.

The next morning, you took a shower, borrowing one of his shirts since yours were dirty. Seeing you in his oversized clothes twisted something inside him, drove him insane with wild thoughts— he almost said something, but bit his tongue to stop the flow of words that would have been unstoppable. When you hugged him goodbye, he held on just a second too long, his arms tightened around you, hesitating to let go and wishing he could stay in the safety of your embrace forever. And for just a heartbeat, he stared at your lips. He almost gave in, almost kissed you right then and there, but he shoved the thought away at the last second. Why would you ever want to kiss someone like him?

The second time he almost kissed you was at the ice rink in Central Park. It was the holiday season, and this year Bucky realised that he didn’t need to spend it alone anymore. He invited you out, convincing himself it wasn’t a date— just two friends hanging out, doing friend things.  

You were hesitant, admitting you couldn’t skate and that the ice never seemed to agree with you, but he insisted.

"You can hold onto me," he teased, though he left out  telling you how much he wanted you to. Just to feel you close. Just for you to embrace him again.

"Buck!" you squealed when he picked up speed, your hands clutching his jacket tight around your fist in a death grip. "You’re going way too fast!"

He laughed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the rink. The moonlight between trees shrouded the two of you. You stumbled into his chest, your fingers curling into his coat. For a second, you didn’t move. You stayed there, taking in his scent. "What would I do without you?" you murmured into his chest, voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, he realised that you weren’t just his friend out of pity— You made him feel wanted. Needed.

His hands found your cheeks, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. He could almost taste how your lips would feel— soft, warm, perfect. His breath hitched, his body taking control. But then, just as quickly, he put his logical mind back in the pilot seat. He pulled away. Why would you want to kiss someone who’d been broken as many times as him?

The third time he thought about kissing you, he could’ve sworn you wanted it, too. You were on one of your usual runs and morning coffee— your ritual together. It happened once or twice a week when he wasn’t whisked away to some strange land for a mission. 

Bucky always slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t mind since he could spend those extra moments near you. 

After the runs, you’d get coffee together. He talked about everything—his life in the 40s, his family, Steve, his friends from school. 

You gave him pieces of his humanity back with every conversation. With you, he felt more than a soldier— you made him feel more organic. Human.

He felt that, for once, he was more interesting than the winter soldier.

He then talked about wanting a small pet, maybe a dog, or a white cat. 

"What, am I not companion enough?" you had teased.

His ears burned, and the super soldier found himself stammering. "That’s not what I meant."

You laughed as you brushed coffee foam off his facial hair. The briefest touch and his heart started racing out of control.

He could've sworn you leaned in just slightly, almost instinctively. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to. But again, he pushed it down, convincing himself that the two of you were just friends. 

The day after, he found himself lying on the couch, thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you— your lips, your laugh, your touch. He didn’t know what to make of it. The feelings ate away at his sanity, and they wouldn’t go away. For the first time, he asked himself the question he was too afraid to ask: was this how it felt to be truly, deeply, and desperately in love?

Then came the knock.

He opened the door, and there you were, looking as tired as he felt. Your hair was a mess, your clothes crumpled, and you looked like you haven’t slept since he saw you yesterday, but you were still so goddamn beautiful. You had this infectious wild energy, like you were on the edge of discovering the secret to world peace.

"I’ve been thinking all night," you said, stepping inside the gap he had open. That was how welcome you felt in his space, how comfortable he was with you. "If I’m wrong, this is going to be so embarrassing, but— three times. You almost kissed me three times."

Bucky blinked, caught off-guard.

"That night with the pizza, when I said goodbye," you continued, pacing around the room in deep thought. "The ice rink. And yesterday at the coffee shop." You held up three fingers at his face, your hands trembling slightly. "Three times is too much to be a coincidence. Three times is too much to just accidentally lean in. Please, tell me you’ve thought about it. Tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me because—" You stopped, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Because I’ve thought about it too."

Your voice was shaky. Bucky had never seen you so vulnerable, so uncertain. So hopeful.

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered, your voice now barely a whisper. But before you could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate rush. All the hesitations melted away from the tension in his muscles, and it was better than he’d imagined a thousand times. He didn’t know how it was possible, but you tasted even sweeter than he had dreamed. His hands tangled in your hair as you stood on tiptoes, clutching him as if he might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you whispered in disbelief, "So I was right."

Bucky smiled, finger running along your skin, in a sensory attempt to remind him the was all real and not just one of his fantasies. "Only took you half a year to notice."

You laughed softly, melting into his touch. "I could say the same for you."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. "Shush," he whispered between kisses. He was addicted now. He needed his fix. He needed your touch, your warmth, your lips on his. Again, and again, and again.

And that was more than a year ago. Now, Bucky still couldn’t stop kissing you. If anything, it had only gotten worse, not that you were complaining.

He kissed you every chance he got. When you rolled over in bed, still half asleep, he kissed your forehead. When you stretched in the kitchen, reaching for a mug for your afternoon tea, he kissed the back of your neck. When you came home late from work, tired but smiling, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you breathless, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Buck," you laughed, stopping his train of thought, playfully trying to squirm away as he pulled you onto his lap. "We’re supposed to be watching a movie."

His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear. "But I’d rather kiss you."

You were powerless against him, as you always are. Laughing softly, you said, "You know, you kiss me every day. Aren’t you tired of me yet?"

He pulled back just enough to look at you, reminding himself of how lucky he was that he had you here. That if it wasn’t for you storming into his apartment in a frenzy with a theory, you wouldn’t be here in his arms. "Never." His voice was so soft, making your breath hitch.

You were about to say something smart, but Bucky stopped you with another kiss, his lips gentle and loving, yet there was such a fiery passion beneath. You curled into him, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, the movie long forgotten.

He stared at you, thumb brushing the side of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I’m never gonna stop kissing you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry from the taste of you. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried."

And you believed him.

-end

[withleeknow]

hiya! I noticed you have your requests open and if you don't mind, could I please suggest: "for once... I was right" with "don't you dare walk away from me" for Lee Know - maybe angsty but I don't mind you just going with the flow.

thank you!

blue hour.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: exes au, exes to ...? 🫢, angst; minho's pov mostly, open ending kinda, some light cursing, unedited don't look at me word count: 2.2k (i got carried away a little bit) listen to 🎧: breathe again - sara bareilles

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

“this should be the last of your things.”

“thanks,” you say, rummaging through the box that minho hands over to you. everything that you left at his place throughout the entire time you were together; every sweatshirt of yours in his closet, every piece of jewelry on his nightstand, every bottle of nail polish that you kept in his bathroom reserved for nights where you two would pamper each other. they're all here, except for... “did you see my red scarf though? i can’t find it anywhere.”

“no, i checked,” he says. “this is everything.”

“hmm, okay.”

you hold the box between your arms, and minho can’t help but feel something twist painfully in his chest. it’s like you're holding your relationship, or what’s left of it anyway, ready to make your swift exit from his life. two years of love, all dumped into one stupid cardboard box.

you both stand there in silence for what feels like forever, just staring at each other, then at your surroundings, neither of you saying anything. minho knows why he hasn’t bid you a farewell goodnight yet; it’s because he doesn’t want this to end. even though it’s a sad occasion, the finale to your story, he still wants to the seconds to stretch on, for the minutes to last longer. after all, isn’t this the last time he'll ever see you?

why you haven’t left him to his devices and gone upstairs, he isn’t sure.

another moment passes. life goes on but it seems like you two are in your own bubble where nothing moves forward. everything stays rooted to the spot.

“do you want to go for a walk?” you ask after a while. the question surprises minho enough that he lets it show, and it makes you quickly tack on an excuse. “the weather is nice and i... i don’t want to be on my own.”

yes, he does want to go for a walk with you. anything to be with you even if it’s only for a moment longer.

“sure,” he says. “let’s go for a walk.”

“okay. i’ll leave this upstairs and get my jacket.”

he watches as you disappear inside your building, only to reemerge momentarily afterward, a wool jacket draped over your frame. he wishes you’d worn something lighter, just so he could have an excuse to wrap his arm around your shoulders if it gets colder.

you walk side by side around your neighborhood, a distance between your bodies that never used to be there before. it’s strange, of course it is. but minho supposes this is yours and his new reality now.

“how are the cats?” you ask.

“they’re okay. dori had a cold a couple weeks ago, but everything’s fine now,” he tells you. “they... they miss you.”

i miss you too - that's a thought that he doesn’t say out loud, only keeps it to himself because it feels too humiliating to utter those words to you.

“they’re cats. how can you tell?”

“i can always tell.” he shrugs. “they wait by the door when i’m already home. they sleep on your-... they sleep on the other side of the bed.”

if you notice his slip up, you don’t say anything. you purse your lips and nod somberly, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “they’ll forget about me soon enough,” you say.

minho glances at you. he wants to rebuke that statement, to argue with you over something as silly as whether or not his freaking cats will retain their memories of you in the future. but he just bites his tongue and swallows down the lump in his throat, humming to let you know that he’s heard what you said. not a hum of agreement, just one of acknowledgement.

“how’s work?” he asks. god, it’s just so fucking weird to be asking you these things. you know each other inside and out and yet, you’re here making small talk.

torn apart when all you two should be is together.

“it’s alright. still the same, kinda boring. you know there’s not a lot that can happen in that place in one month.”

yes, because it’s been a little over a month since you parted ways, since you moved back into your old apartment and left his home perpetually cold and empty. he can’t blame you for leaving when he was the one who agreed to break up. he can’t blame you for his heartache when he was the one who broke your heart first.

he didn’t mean to, but isn’t that what they all say?

“do you still want to leave?”

“sure,” you reply. “if i can find something better, i’d leave that place in a heartbeat. but for now, it’ll have to do. it used to be a bit more bearable though.”

“i hope you find something that makes you happier.”

“thanks.” you give him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. “how about you? how’s life?”

minho almost says the first thing that comes into mind. life is terrible without you. i think about you every single minute of every day but you're not here and it’s my own damn fault.

he could lie and come up with something much more palatable, because he doesn’t reckon his truth is something you’d like to hear right now.

but he doesn’t want to lie to you. in the time that you were together, minho never lied to you, not even once, not even over something stupid and insignificant. beside, he’s got a feeling that you would see through his bullshit anyway.

his answer ends up being a sad shrug, then, “it’s life. i’m hanging in there.”

your footsteps slow until you stop completely. this makes him stop too, turning around to look at you with his head tilted to one side, confused.

“it’s not like you to sound so defeated,” you comment.

“what?” he asks with a sigh. “it’s the truth.”

“it’s not the whole truth.”

“what do you want me to say?”

“i want you to be honest with me,” you tell him, your shoulders slumping just slightly. “i still care about you. i want to know you’re okay.”

minho takes a step closer until he’s right in front of you, the closest that you two have been all night. his body feels the warmth radiating from yours but he has to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching you.

“if you really want to know, i haven’t been myself since you left.”

guilt flashes in your eyes. it wasn’t his intention at all.

you bite your bottom lip, inhale a shaky breath, before you speak, “i’m sorry for leaving.”

“don’t apologize. i’m sorry for driving you away.”

then he watches the tears well up as you look at him. he’s been wondering this the whole night, how you seem so cavalier about it all, how you’re able to speak to him so casually as if you’re just old friends with some shared history, and not as though the wound is still fresh. he’s still bleeding and you’re acting like you’ve already healed.

but he sees it now. you’re just as sad as he is, just as miserable. the only difference is you’re better at hiding it, or maybe you’ve just had more time to get used to the way it hurts.

is this how you felt in the weeks, the months, leading up to your departure? every time he neglected you, prioritized something else over you, missed every date and overlooked every text message? every single instance where he was too busy for you?

he never wanted to break your heart, but alas, here you are.

he didn’t want you to go, and yet, when you felt like you couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore, he hadn’t stopped you from walking out the door. he gave up, and he gave up so easily.

nothing along the lines of ‘don’t you dare walk away from me’, no tearful argument, no explosive and definitive end to your relationship. minho just let your love slip away.

how must that have made you feel on top of everything that he did - or didn’t do - to you?

minho has been called every variation of ‘cold’ before. to everyone else, he’s callous, rough, intimidating and unapproachable. but to you, he’s kind, soft, gentle and loving. it never mattered what anyone thought of him, as long as you always knew that he loved you, that you saw him for who he was.

but toward the end, what if you saw him how the others did? what if you had deemed him cold too?

the mere thought makes him sick to his stomach.

you sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “you don’t have to say that. it’s in the past now.”

fracture upon fracture upon fracture. minho doesn’t know how much more of this his heart can take.

his fingers twitch, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching for your hands. to his surprise, you let him.

your hands, so delicate in his, so warm.

“i should’ve fought harder for you,” he says, his voice so small that you barely catch the words at all.

but his eyes… he hopes you can see it in his eyes - the regret, the longing, the pain of losing you dimming the light of the stars he holds there.

giving his hands a light squeeze, you say, “and maybe i should’ve held on tighter instead of letting go.”

“i made you feel like you weren’t enough. it’s the worst thing i ever did to you. i understand why you left.”

you try to calm your breathing, because you really don’t feel like breaking down in front of him right now. you don’t say anything in response; what are you even supposed to say? you told him everything that you wanted to the night that you two broke up. everything that you tried to bottle up for months was laid on the table that night. you watched as he listened to you, watched as his heart broke alongside yours. that was it.

“i… i’m sorry,” minho stutters, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he looks scared. “i’m sorry. can’t we try again? i swear i won’t let you down again. i swear to you.”

“min…” the nickname slips out of habit and for a second there, minho thinks you would say yes. but then… “i know you’re sorry. i know we didn’t break things off because we fell out of love. but i don’t think you’re at a point in your life where i can be the most important thing right now. you may not mean to, but there’ll be things that you prioritize over me… and i’m not at a place in my life where i can settle for being on someone’s back burner either. the timing’s just off. it’s not your fault, life just got in the way.”

minho stares at you, the stars dying out one by one. the hurt is beyond what any word can describe but in a way, he understands. it fucking sucks, but he gets it. he has to accept it now.

he nods solemnly, tracing odd patterns on your palms. then he asks, quietly, “can i hold you? just for a while.”

please indulge me, he thinks. this is the last thing i’ll ever ask from you.

you don’t reply with words. instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. you two stay there in each other’s embrace for god knows how long. it could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours. you always lose track of time when you’re wrapped up together.

you hold him like he - tough and intimidating minho - is made of glass, and he holds you like he doesn’t ever want to let you go.

but he has to eventually.

you untangle yourself from him to find that he’s been crying. the tears on his cheeks catch the light from the street lamps, reflecting like crystals in the night. when you wipe them away, you tell him, “for once, i was right.”

“about what?” he sniffles.

“you really are a hopeless romantic,” you smile, trying to lighten the mood. as much as you can anyway. “i knew you’d prove me right one day.”

minho wants to scoff but his eyes are burning from the tears and his throat feels like it's closing up, so he lets you have this one. the last one, right?

maybe he is a romantic, and maybe it’s only for you. maybe it makes him a little hopeless.

the walk back to yours ends too quickly. but truth be told, even if you had walked together until the sun came up, it still wouldn’t have been long enough for him.

you both stand there, two heavy hearts looking at each other, looking for one another.

there’s no goodbye, only goodnight.

and you’re the one who says it first.

minho returns your sentiment with a choked up voice, a brush of his fingers against yours, and when you finally turn to walk up the steps, his gaze lingers on your retreating figure.

then he calls your name softly. “hey, uhm... i’ll let you know if the scarf turns up, okay?”

you turn back with a knowing smile. it’s still sad, but there’s some faith hidden there.

“i hope it will.”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 16.01.2024]

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Ten - Nothing Is The Same

Warnings: Trauma responses, a bit of gore at the beginning

Chapter Summary: Still getting used to his new life, Jack wakes up from an awful nightmare and goes for a run.

Author’s Note: This took me forever sorry guys 😭 I wanted to get this posted days ago but oh well. I think it worked out better this way anyway. Side note! Jack's hair is back :D

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

< Previous - Next >

The deafening sound of a Black Hawk circling overhead and explosions all around roared in Jack’s ears, making it impossible to think straight. He couldn’t aim his rifle. He couldn’t focus. It was like he lost control of his own body. 

All Jack could do was helplessly watch the destruction around him. He tried to look away but when he looked down there were bits and pieces of maimed soldiers scattered about. Someone who had just been shot in the chest bled out at his feet. Their deadened eyes bored into his.

Jack screamed as he attempted to get away. He couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. He was drawn to it by an unknown force. The scene played over and over again in a loop. The Black Hawk flying up above, the explosions, the corpses… 

The loop broke when a stray bullet hit him in the face and ripped open the flesh on his cheek, creating an oozing, gaping wound. Blood pooled in his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. The drowning sensation took over his body as he writhed on the ground. 

Jack gasped and jolted awake. He sat up in bed, panting. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tried to catch his breath. His biceps, also glistening with sweat, shone as the moonlight peeking in through the curtains reflected on them.

This had to be his strangest nightmare yet. He didn’t have them as frequently as he did that week he was discharged but they were much worse this time. He didn’t know what was better, a nightmare every night or a few a week that were horrible and would rattle him for days.

Jack glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was almost 4 am. He decided that now would be a good time to go for his nightly run. He completely forgot about it and fell asleep earlier than usual because he was so tired from the lack of sleep.

After stretching his tense muscles, Jack swung his legs over the bed and grabbed his pants and black hoodie from the floor, throwing them on half heartedly. He stuffed his keys into his pants pocket and slid on his shoes before quietly slipping out of the apartment. Instead of taking the elevator, he took the stairs since they were less noisy.

Once he was down at the lobby, Jack pushed the double doors open and walked out into the street, a gust of cold air hitting his face. Pulling his hood over his head, he took off to the left and sprinted down the sidewalk. 

Ever since he moved to Gotham a few months ago, he ran almost every night. Normally he would stay out for at least 20 to 30 minutes. He found running therapeutic and a way to clear his head. The adrenaline was like a drug. A temporary fix to help him escape his problems. 

This time Jack took a different route than he usually did. He liked to switch things up every once in a while. The dim street lights provided just enough light for him to see and illuminated his profile as he moved under them, giving his jagged scar a grisly effect. To a passerby the brief glimpse probably looked horrifying. That was partly why he wore a hood over his head. 

In the end he made it all the way to Gotham River, which flowed north of Downtown. As soon as the water was in sight, he stopped and approached the nearby bridge, wiping the sweat from his brow. He dug out his lighter and a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and inhaled the first drag, closing his eyes and reveling in the crisp scent. Leaning over the railing, he looked out over the shimmering water and exhaled the smoke, the vapor curling in different directions.

The water was oddly calming, and combined with the smoke helped to settle his nerves, which were still shot from the nightmare. A gust of wind ruffled his hair and made him shiver a little, his skin prickling at the cold. 

These days Jack didn’t know what to feel. Day and night the war stayed with him. He thought he would eventually get over this, but apparently it was still lingering around, looming in the back of his mind. He couldn’t settle back into society properly. He could barely sleep. He couldn’t go a single day without being reminded of the war in some way. His scar was no help with that. 

With a tired sigh, Jack finished his cigarette and headed back, tossing the butt into a trash can close by. As he got closer to his apartment building, he slowed his pace. He entered through the double doors just as quietly as he exited earlier. His eye was struck by a light that emitted from the office and streaked through the lobby.

Vernon is up pretty early. Jack thought as he started up the stairs.

He reached the 3rd floor and scanned the hallway for 307. Finding it, he fished out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and shut the door, tossing his keys onto the countertop. He went to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed with a loud exhale. 

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. It was already morning, although very early, and now that Jack was up, he would stay up. He checked the clock beside him. It was close to 5 am. He sat up with a grunt and got down on the floor to begin his usual morning workout. 

The first thing was sit ups. He could do 250 in ten minutes. Next was push ups. He could do about 150 of those. Then to finish it off he held a plank for as long as he could. His muscles were on fire by the time he was done but it didn’t bother him. It was ingrained in his head to stay in shape. He also found himself taking pleasure in the pain. It was difficult to explain.

Jack sat up and rested for a minute, catching his breath. The running and the exercises made him pretty sweaty. A shower was looking very appealing right then. So he trudged into his bathroom and slid off his clothes. Then he turned on the water and as he waited for it to heat up, gazed into the mirror at himself. 

It was a pitiful sight. His eyes were heavy and sunken in with dark circles that rimmed the bottom of them. His face was gaunt and weary. Trying to be positive, he noticed his hair was growing back. It went past his ears now. He wasn’t sure or not if he wanted to grow it all the way out like how he used to have it. He would probably settle halfway, somewhere at his shoulders.

The water had warmed up so Jack stepped in the tub and stood under the shower head. He wet his hair first and lathered it with soap. Tilting his head back, he ran his fingers through his brown locks and rinsed. He was kind of ashamed to say he hadn’t properly washed his hair in almost a week. But it wasn’t like he had to impress anyone. He rarely went out and he lived alone. He could care less.

After he was done washing himself, Jack just stood motionless under the water and took in the warmth. Resting his head on the wall, he breathed in and out rhythmically and listened to the water pitter patter into the tub. As the steam rose and wisped past his face, he felt a sense of clarity that brought him out of his sleepy haze. 

Jack shut off the water and pulled the shower curtain aside, stepping out of the tub and onto the fluffy blue mat on the floor. He grabbed a towel from the cabinet under the sink and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. 

Back in his room he threw on a loose navy colored tee and black sweatpants. He felt his stomach growl and plead with him for food as he walked out into the main area of the apartment. All the exercise must have worked up his appetite. He relented and went to his pantry to hunt for food. He didn’t feel like spending the time to cook anything so it needed to be something simple.

Jack settled on a pack of blueberry Pop-Tarts and slid them into the toaster slots. While he waited he poured himself a glass of orange juice and placed it on the table. Once the Pop-Tarts were ready, he put them on a napkin and sat down. He ate the pastries tentatively since they were still hot and sipped on the juice.

He made a guttural sound of annoyance and moved his tongue across the inside of his cheek where the scar was. Food, especially the sticky kind, had a tendency to get stuck there. He noticed a few days ago that he was developing a habit of messing with the inside of his mouth with his tongue and licking his bottom lip where it had a small forked crack in it. He didn’t know why. The best way he could describe it to someone else was having a sore in your mouth that you compulsively need to mess with. 

It was a gruesome, repulsive habit but Jack didn’t try to stop himself. He knew it would be hard to quit since he was going to have this scar for a long time. He just hoped nobody out in public would notice. Bearing the scar was bad enough. People already stared at him. He didn’t need to give them another reason to.

Jack sighed as he realized his life would never be the same as it once was. He had to come to terms with living with this trauma, the scar, this new environment, and the fact that he was alone. His mother was gone, his father didn’t give two shits about him, and he didn’t know a single soul in Gotham. Being a loner never bothered him before but back then he had a choice. It hurt worse when he was forced into it. 

He was already alienated from the rest of society by being in the army and having to adjust back to civilian life. The scar pushed him even farther out of the norm. He hated when he was at the store and his military ID (that he kept putting off to take out of his wallet) flashed when he was pulling out money and people, noticing the card and his scar, would always say the customary, “thank you for your service.” 

It infuriated him to no end. He could read their eyes. They pitied him. He didn’t want them to. They didn’t even mean what they said. Everyone said it because it was “respectful” or “polite.” He didn’t feel bad in the slightest for thinking like that. He took solace in knowing he wasn’t the only vet that felt this way.

Jack cleared out the negative emotions beginning to swirl within him and finished up his breakfast. He refused to have another bad day today. Yawning, he stood up from the table, gently tossed his glass into the kitchen sink, and threw his trash away. He plopped down on the couch in the living room and switched on the TV. Right now he really needed a laugh so he turned on some cartoons to pass the morning by.

[ms-scarletwings]

Every Dredge Aberration (2024), Part 7

A door opened, the wound left growing.

Along grotesque procession, the ichor’s flowing.

It seeps through rock to blacken the blue,

Molds flesh like clay, turns nightmares true.

It creeps in to stay, feeling, growing,

And bringing its tarnish up to you. ₊˚.༄

Clutching Nautilus ˚.༄

Encyclopedia #142

Aberrant form of nautilus

Description:

The hand of some forgotten sailor, taken refuge from an ancient storm. Today, at last, it comes ashore.

Comment: In this one image alone I find myself in desperate need to make a vital note for refernce- do not. DO. NOT. Perish at sea in the territory surrounding the Marrows. To not lose oneself to the depths is, yes, a sound goal for any who lend their soul from the safety of land and into the trust of crew and craft, but I’m speaking of a danger worse than drowning. Perhaps I am speaking of a threat more dreadful than death itself, still watching the ribbon light of the worlds splintering apart the dark. The Deep isn’t so wasteful of its catches as man. Once it clutches a gift from above, it only throws it back for a cost no sane mind could bear to pay. Even after all this time, are my hands forever to be ones that only take… because I fear the bite of what wants to be fed?

How to catch: Tread the Gales, where the water shimmers black, and welcome this oceanic mistake’s homecoming with the powers of your infused winch. While the advanced hoist can accomplish the same thing, I do note that the winch has a 10% faster fishing speed and can be obtained for a lower investment cost.

Vagrant Sollasina ˚.༄

Encyclopedia #143

Aberrant form of sollasina

Description:

Five sensing spears quiver and guide. Two stalks erupt from the shell, with eyes to see the unseen.

Comment: I see strange directions for this ancient’s evolution to choose. It is impossible to know what the creature has been shaped to detect, whether it is desperate to find, or avoid what it senses. A fun side fact more about its untainted relatives is that there was once found a fossil of this genus in England, given the actual species name “Sollasina Cthulhu”.

How to catch: This is another dweller of polluted patches. Switch to an advanced rod designed for shallow casting.

Bifurcated Gar ˚.༄

Encyclopedia #144

Aberrant form of abyssal gar

Description:

A once strong body now divided, clinging to life through coiled channels of blood and bile.

Comment: A living testament to how the strength of the whole is only meaningfully counted by the strength of its bindings. A poetic art piece from the Deep, this metaphor for our dance- a glossy sludge making traffic between two halves of what once touched.

How to catch: You will not only need the aid of equipment specialized for casting through the corrupt oil, but also with the length to reach the abyssal depths. As such, the infused hoist is the only candidate for the job.

Slivering Lancetfish ˚.༄

Enclyclopedia #145

Aberrant form of lancetfish

Description:

An outward reflection, turning, coiling inward. The thrust of introspection, lost to self-obsession.

Comment: And so the spiral, well… spirals. There’s nothing to be said to add upon this concept, but it’s one of my favorite new discoveries since the rig was revealed. It checked off for both fantastic and dreadful even at first glance.

How to catch: While lancetfish are an elusive deep sea predator, unusual seismic disturbance has brought them to the cliffs with the other out of place fish. Any advanced rod for coastal catching will do.

Splintered Crab

Encyclopedia #146

Aberrant form of rock crab

Description:

Amber glue holds shattered fragments. A deep dweller cracked from the pressure.

Comment: Another turn, another puzzle to this creature’s characterization as literal or figurative. Already this transformation from shell to stone is strange enough, but the crab’s insides of sap reveal a whole other layer of impossible anatomy. For what it could be, the market has definitely lowballed the fisherman on what payment they offer for even one of these. Still, at least one specimen must be brought to the Painter at Little Marrow, going toward the ability to use Maple Orange pigment for your vessel customizations.

How to catch: Rock Crabs will readily be taken up by crab pots in the Gale Cliffs region, lurking depths shallower than 25 meters.

Cortex Decorator

Encyclopedia #147

Aberrant form of decorator crab

Description:

Folds of orange tissue tower from its head. Scything limbs administer the structure.

Comment: A delightfully skin-crawling addition to the day’s catch. Taken by the encyclopedia’s word, the skittering one has sculpted the very mound protruding from its own carapace. To what ends, it can’t be known. Either way, one of these is the other half of the requirements for Maple Orange boat paint.

How to catch: Before leaving the Cliffs, it is well worth investing into obtaining a Mouth of the Deep crab pot, which will be invaluable to helping catch larger mutagenic crustaceans such as these. The item goes a long way to allowing the player to keep investing research parts into engines, rods, and nets at this stage, rather than the expensive crab pot upgrades that otherwise would be needed for effective harvest of this size of crab and up. Shares a region with the rock crabs and their own aberrant, albeit preferring much shallower water. Keep your crab pots to 5 meters and below in the Gale’s bay.

Cystic Trilobite ˚.༄

Encyclopedia #148

Aberrant form of trilobite

Description:

An ancient infection, carried through time. Impatient in dormancy, it rises from the rocks.

Comment: One of the most eerie things the first beings who study the Deep and its influence is to realize, we are the last beings to have caught its attention. The forces beneath these waves have been awake longer than we can fathom.

How to catch: Any functioning crab pot, placed between 0-50 meters of depth by the cliffs, always in the oil slick, will have a chance at yielding one of these. For best chances, stick to a depth of 25 to 50 meters, to avoid wasting trap slots on the native crabs.

[allyouveeverknownbyrustedbread]

ddlcbrainrot

idk how i could gather more information at this point, considering the …people? don’t have mouths. i could try memorising their chant in case it comes into play later, perhaps i could show them the book to see if they have some kind of reaction to it. either way though, the only thing i can do is keep moving forward. staying in the cathedral forever isn’t really what i want. so i go through the door behind the altar

(let’s hope i don’t die hihi)

rustedbread

you attempt showing them the book, it results in no response, their heads are turned to you, they're chanting as they were before, uninterrupted seeing as that was completely fruitless, you venture behind the altar, it seems to be some sort of study, a table with writing utensils a journal left opened, lantern and backpack sitting beside it sits at the right side of the room, pressed to the right wall, a bed that seems to have been unused for months and a door in the middle of the backside of the room other than that, the room has been demolished, broken bookshelves make it hard to walk, the smell of dust and ash potent as you notice the pile of hardcovers that it all seems to be originating from, the edges and insides are burnt, every last one of them has zero pages, to manage this and still have the hardcovers intact would take, hours, and considering the volume of dust and splayed out pageless books, days. dwelling on this just mucks up your already clouded mind, so you choose to ignore it for now, taking the backpack and everything on the desk, with some effort you're able to cram a pillow and some bedsheets into it too, not bedding, not any blankets, but fairly thin bedsheets you carry the lantern though, even if it's covered by glass, it wouldn't be wise to put a flame next to fabrics, and also, it wouldn't illuminate anything from just sitting in your backpack knowing you've exhausted your options here, it wouldn't be wise to stay, so you choose to at least attempt to see what exactly is beyond that door you step out, it's an open area, not a closed tunnel, which you're heavily grateful for after blindly trudging through a blood vessel it's dark, however you are able to hear the slightest sound of water rushing and flowing, a river? you continue walking, shoes greeted with that all too familiar for your personal comfort squelch, you in no way missed walking on this, but you have to find a way out of here someway as you walk, you feel yourself being watched you hear pattering in the background, only one set of footsteps, they're rapid, not growing in volume though, they actually lose it as you continue, you look around, you see, for a split second, a pair of eyes radiating through the darkness, as soon as it notices you looking at it though, instantly it turns and runs from what you can tell, which is very little, it didn't have a plan for this, running into some random direction, until it's out of your vision you tell yourself not to sleep, though your body desperately needs it the lack of light, the constant walking on difficult terrain, at least it isn't humid in the area you're in, because fairly exhaustion would have gotten to you the second you stepped out if that was the case you manage to find the source of the sound of the rushing fluid it's water, it's shocking to think this, but it's water it likely doesn't taste too good, due to the proximity to contaminants like the flesh and meat that are near ever-present in this place you sit down just to rest for a little bit, your paranoia no longer able to be felt as you pass out due to exhaustion you're stirred awake, not by sound, or anything that you would hope not for you're awoken by light. not the sun of course, but many different lights immerge from the floor and mounds of flesh around you everything is visible now, still dim, but visible you look into the lights you remember the warehouse they looked just like this

[You have full freedom of what to do from here on, I've been a bit railroady these past few entries, granted the nature of this with me narrating your actions does deprive you of bits of choice now and again, which I will of course do everything I can to avoid! and I feel as if I need to break away from making you choose between a set amount of choices, I think this might be a bit more fun if it's like that] [[I write, like, in a trance, like it just, flows out of my head]] [[[I felt a bit insecure when writing this part because of how much of a high standard I set myself to, but then I remember what this all originated from and I remembered, oh yeah, I can just, have fun with this]]]

[xxyumeno]

@radixnt-gxrden + mia &&. cont’d from here

         ❝ Hmm... ❞ there wasn’t a pause in Ienzo’s typing as Mia answered his questions. His mind going over the data he was putting in. He nodded his head at the right intervals until she asked him a question. ❝ Aside from inputting research data? ❞ he pointed out. ❝ I still have some more work to do after this. As Even has fallen sick and currently reccoperating in his room. I have to pick up his work as well as doing my own. ❞

[sweet-villain]

Nothing Compares To You~ Eddie Munson 

Summary : Eddie is getting married to Chrissy and you hope you can change his mind. Will it or will it all crash?

m-rae23 ~ palomam18 ~eddiesprincess86 ~figmentofquinn ~gloomybrieyxb ~hqtetsurou ~ theintimatewriter

Angst

" Don't marry her" a soft like whisper slips from your mouth watching your best friend look at himself in the mirror. He looked absolutely dashing but he'd groan every time latching a finger underneath his collar as he tugged it. He didn't like wearing suits.

All eyes turned to look at you, Gareth eyes got wide hearing what you said. He was one out of many who knew your secret; your feelings for Eddie. Dustin who stood by Eddie, mouth gap open thinking you picked the perfect time to do this. Steve shook his head at you, out of all the days, you picked today to do this.

" What?" Eddie asked tilted his head to the side. His messy mop of curls were pulled back in a loose bun with pieces of strands fell in front of his face.

You swallowed the lump in your throat averting your gaze as you played with your fingers, rolling the few rings you had one one hand. You were dressed in a light purple dress that flowed down. You were one of Chrissy's bridesmaids.

A shuffle of feet was heard on the floor as everyone scurried out leaving you and Eddie alone in the room. Eddie's eyes searched your hidden face as your fascination was on the brown wood floor of the room.

" What do you mean " don't marry her" Y/N?" He asked you. He wanted answers from you. He thought you would support him on his big day.

" Don't...please" you muttered, shoulder slugged forward and lip trembling. Eddie had to only take a few steps towards you as he stood in front of you. You noticed the chain that he always wore attached to his dress pants causing you to lowly chuckle.

Two fingers lifted up your chin as your eyes met with his doe brown eyes staring at you with curiosity and anger.

" Eds..I-" you closed your eyes feeling a tear escaping down your cheek towards your chin. He watched it as it went slipping from your chin and no longer a part of you.

" Tell me what's going on with you" he say, but says it with a slight venom in his tone. " I'm getting married to Chrissy"

You sniffled wiping the edge of your nose as you stared at him with tears running down your cheeks wishing it was much easier to just talk to him. It should be, he's been your best friend for years.

" Don't marry her, Eds.. please" you begged him, shaking your head.

" Why not? I love her" he says. Those words hit you in your heart.

" Because I love you!" you shout to him. You couldn't bare to keep the secret anymore, not when you were about to lose him forever. Dustin, Mike, Gareth and Steve all had their ears up to the door listening in. Steve looked down at Dustin seeing the worried look on his face knowing either you were about to walk out that door with your heart in two or you were going to walk out with Eddie.

Eddie stared at you in shock with his mouth a jar and his brown eyes wide as saucers. He could not believe after all this time, you choose the time he's getting married to do this. His eyes suddenly became darker as his jaw tightened and his fist clenched at this side.

" Why now? Why did you decide now is the time to tell me? I'm about to marry the girl of my dreams!" he yells throwing his hands as he turns his back to you. He closes his own eyes feeling his heart sink.

" You know I love her, you knew I was going to marry her. You knew from the beginning.." he softly says.

" I know, but you had to know" He scoffs as he looks out to the window near him.

" I'm not staying, Munson" he hears you sniffle again, " I know I don't deserve you and I never did. But you have the right to know, she wasn't here for you since the beginning. After everything you've been through, I was there for you. I know you don't see what I see Eddie Munson, but you were the best damn part of my days. I always told you that you were enough, that you deserved the world, that you belong somewhere and when she came along, she was all that matters and you forgot who I was to you" you spatted turning your back to him reaching for the handle of the door as you turned it.

The door screeched open and you noticed Steve, Gareth, Dustin and Mike all scrambled away from the door like they were doing something else rather than eavesdropping on the conversation.

Eddie stood inside the room with his own tears in his eyes as he didn't dare to look as you left. You walked past the boys with your hands lifting up your dress. The other side of the doors open revealing Robin and Nancy as they stopped in their tracks as they spot you.

" Y/N?" Robin asks seeing the mascara stains running down your cheeks. You shook your head at her with your lips trembling, picking up your pace as you ran to the doors needing air. You couldn't be here.

Your hand reached out for the necklace you were wearing ripping it off your chest. It was a necklace that Eddie had gotten you for your birthday, it was a little guitar with your initials on it.

" What happened?!" Nancy screamed following you out the door. The sun hit your bare shoulder and your knees gave out from under you as you collapsed in tears.

" I told him, I told him I loved him" you sobbed into her chest as she pulls you into her. She wraps her arms around you trying to sooth you by rubbing your arm up and down. A figure kneels down besides you as they move the hair away from your face, some strands sticked to your cheeks from your crying.

" I'm so sorry, bug" Steve says. Your eyes land on him feeling like your heart was in a puddle. You should of just muster up your feelings and kept quiet.

" I'm so stupid" you say through your sobs.

" No you're not"

" I'm so stupid" you repeated pulling away from Nancy's embrace as you stood up taking off your heels on the steps. They were from Chrissy and you didn't need them anymore.

" Y/N.." Steve calls out to you as he watches you, The dress is a little torn already but you didn't care as you muted out Steve's calls racing down the steps and down the streets.

Eddie walks down the halls looking down at the ground with his heart in two as he stares at the doors that holds the girl he was going to marry, he loves her but then his foot steps on something. He moves his shoe to the side seeing the little guitar, it was your necklace he gave you for your birthday.

He kneels down bringing it into his hands as his thumb grazes over it, a deep frown lays on his lips. His hand clutches into a fist as a tear falls down his cheek.

He lost you. His best friend and the first girl he had feelings for. His eye catches Steve who is holding your heels in his hands, Steve frowns sadly as he looks away.

You were gone.

[hansensgirl]

put me in a movie.

summary. | He knows you can’t make it on your own, so he’ll put you in his movie.

warnings. | Dubcon (reader doesn’t know what he’s doing but consents to it), smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal), virginity loss, choking, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, corruption kink, innocence kink, cream pie kink, penetration, teasing, praise, filming, voyeurism, porn (the industry), fluff, yearning, Daddy kink, humiliation, overstimulation, dumbification kink, and more. SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 6.5k.

pairing. | Grey!Pornstar!Helmut Zemo x Innocent!Reader.

a/n. | please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. inspired by wet, written by the talented @thewritingdoll! do not translate or repost my fics at all.

You don’t like the heat, but you love the summer. The way the days are seldom cold and cloudy, with that occasional breeze that your skin gracefully soaks up in the same way your beach towel soaks up the water on your bathing suit. Popsicles of different flavours dripping down your skin and onto the hot sidewalk. The sticky residue makes you cringe, and you’d use the damp side of your towel to wipe it away. It would work for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two, before the feeling returns.

You hate the heat, but you love to see him. Those swim trunks of his sticking to his wet skin. They’re a blue colour that seems easy to describe at first glance, but you’ll soon realize just how many shades of navy blue there are, and suddenly you don't even know what colour they are. Maybe it’s the colour of the jeans the cameramen wear, or perhaps it’s the colour of the night sky at around six in the evening during the summertime.

They lug heavy equipment, and you just wonder if they’re filming a movie. If your friends and family members got word, they’d probably lose their minds before begging you to get them a part. Vying for fame runs through the family tree branches, and even you would want a small part in it as well. You give them empty promises, forgetting their words after a few minutes until the following text message or phone call.

You don’t spend much time at the beach anymore. Heck, you haven’t been there since June. Your friends have left with their boyfriends and girlfriends on a trip to Bali, and all you have are your family members to keep you company. Your white fence, magazine and lawn chair are all you know of now. You spend your days outdoors, knowing each one will be filled with the same things. The sunlight, bees buzzing, and seagulls having unwarranted ferociousness.

Your parents spend their days at work, and you stay home to hold your small fort down. You don’t water the grass or touch the garden because your father does it better than anyone. You don’t touch the paint meant for the walls or the furniture boxes that are strewn across the floors because your mother knows where to put them and how to paint. You just relax, and you don’t mind it at all.

That was until you saw him.

Curiosity is your closest friend other than the blue raspberry flavoured popsicles that take up more space in your freezer than anything else. So when the empty house next door suddenly filled up with around half a dozen people, you just couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. So you peer over the fence, standing on the small two-step ladder that your dad stole from his previous job. Women and a few men are laughing, dressed down in both swimsuits and t-shirts. Their bodies are lovely, the pinnacle of beauty that you sometimes envy. Other times, you’d feel as though you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and that’s not far from the truth. They’ve got different brands of alcohol in their hands, White Claw cans littered on the ground, and you cringe at the mess.

They must be mentally younger than you’ll ever be again because no person older than you can act like this. Heavy, black cameras are resting nearby briefcases, and you hope to god that nothing illegal is going on. The last thing you need is the police questioning you at 1 in the morning. Some of the men ogle at the younger ladies, and they bask in the attention. You watch as their eyes rake up and down their shiny, sweaty bodies.

“Oh, please, the least you all can do is wait for me before you start the party,” a man snickers, stepping out of the house. You look over to him, and your breath is taken away. Water drips down his face, cascading down to his neck and onto his slightly hairy chest—a navy bluish-purple robe and those blue swim shorts that peek through underneath the cloth. The colour of the fabric goes oh so well with the blue of his eyes. They all laugh until they’re sighing and already cracking open another bottle of beer.

You admire him from afar, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the way he moves: such grace, such elusiveness. The glass in his hand isn’t cheap beer or tequila; it’s whiskey that looks rich as fuck, and he swigs it back like it’s water. You remember the first time your father and mother brought whiskey home from the local liquor store. Your father didn’t enjoy it, and neither did your mother. It sat in a random cupboard until a year ago when your mother decided to throw it out.

He lets out an exhale as the amber liquid flows down his throat, and you watch in awe as he handles the burn like a champion. God, you can’t even handle beer if you try hard enough. He gently places the glass onto the table, far away from the men’s feet, as he knows that they can be quite clumsy. There must be a proper name for all feelings; you believe. Like that feeling when it dawns on you that you’ll never experience something like this ever again.

Or maybe the feeling that Helmut has right now. Not the excitement of finishing this film, and not the tiredness that is a result of working too hard. No, the feeling that he knows you’re watching him from over the fence. He sans his hand towards you, and you quickly duck down, letting out a whimper. You nearly fall from the small ladder, but it wouldn’t be so graceful if it did happen. “What’s wrong, Baron?” one of his co-stars teasingly asks.

“Nothing... Must’ve been the whiskey…”

You don’t hate the summer; you just don’t like the boredom. Even relaxation is something you can tire of, believe it or not. You’ve got nothing to do. Your friends are still out of town, and your parents are at work. You’ve cleaned the house not once, not twice, but three times. Your closet is as clean as it’ll ever be, and the pantry is now organized by most used to least used. The plants have been properly watered, even though it wasn’t necessary since the forecast said there’d be light rain.

You love the rain, especially during the summertime. The sky makes the surrounding world have an almost orange tone to it. The after smell––an earthy, oceanic scent that is so unique––is something you’ll forever look forward to. You’re excited for the day it’ll rain, but even meteorologists tend to be wrong, and Mother Nature has a thing for keeping her children on their toes. It’s one of the many reasons why you love her. So with your little red dress on, you spin around in the backyard.

You’re sensible. You know what creepy crawlers lie underneath the dirt, between the fluffy grass. So instead of being barefoot (just like in those Sofia Loren movies) and playing around, you grab that little latter once again. You’ve scrubbed the grooves and cleaned them of their plant stains––sloppily, of course. Your oversized slippers belong to your dad, and they struggle to stay on your feet, but it doesn’t matter.

You’re not going to be moving around much, anyway. You move the latter closer to where you last saw the group of men and women. You truly hope you don’t get caught and get into any trouble; the last thing you want is your parents scolding you and embarrassing you. You step up on the ladder carefully, grasping onto the wooden fence for support. The surface is hot to the touch, and you really want to let go, but you really shouldn’t. You whisper affirmations along the lines of ‘I won’t fall…’ over and over again, under your breath.

And you hope to God they work.

Admittedly, you also hope he’s wearing those blue swim shorts of his again. The look (and he) resides in your heart, amongst other tubes and canals that have learned to make room for friends, family and passions. But he’s not a friend, he’s not family, and he’s most certainly not a passion. ...He’s something else, that’s for sure. An enigma, really. He reminds you of that feeling––the one that has a name, temptation. Someone tells you not to do something you weren’t going to do in the first place, and now you want to do it.

Except the case is different. You shouldn’t be perving on strangers like this––sneaking up on them, spying on them––all because you just can’t help it. Your mind tells you to stop, but it’s just giving you all the more reason to continue doing it. So, until you nearly get caught one more time, you’ll continue to watch him. Desperate to figure out who he is and what he’s doing.

The cameras are no longer on the ground; a smart decision, given that there’s a pool that takes up more space than anything. The blue water of pools has always fooled you. You grew up believing that it was the true colour of water, not even knowing that it was, in fact, the tiles and not the water. There’s no mess there either, clean and tidy. Maybe professionally done, because the concrete has but not one dark spot or crease where grass grows out of it.

Laid perfectly, you know your mother and father would admire it for a few minutes. You squint your eyes and gaze at the glass sliding door. Inside is him. You let out one of those dreamy, love-filled sighs that only main characters do in romance movies. You watch him as he pours himself a cup of coffee, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a dash of what seems to be almond milk.

You wonder if he likes iced coffees, as they can be so nice during the summertime. He wears those lovely blue swim shorts once again, hair slightly damp (with a pretty curliness to a few strands) and a navy bathrobe. It’s that same outfit as the other time you saw him, and you realize that they’re probably filming a movie. He moves around the counter, putting away certain little ingredients and whatnot.

The most mundane actions ever, ones that even you did just this morning. But god, he just makes it all seem so unique. He cards his fingers through his brown, almost dirty blond hair. There are clumps of strands that stick together, wetness that’ll dry probably as soon as he steps outside. He faces the window, staring out towards the fence that has been freshly painted, and sighs.

His head lulls back, and his neck is exposed. He’s probably both an actor and a model, you think to yourself. His chest hair has grown a bit more, and you can’t find yourself complaining. Tingles run through your body and even down to your pussy. You rub your thighs together, trying to make the feeling go away, while still being careful about holding onto the fence. You hope that he doesn’t know you’re watching him because you’ll never be able to live that down.

And it’s just so unfortunate that Helmut is such a clever man. Heightened senses from when he used to camp a lot when he was younger; he just knows practically everything. He knows you’re watching him, squinting your eyes until they’re nearly shut close. The skin around them wrinkles in the most adorable way, just like the way your nose scrunches up out of instinct. God, he could kiss every crevice of your body, even if you don’t know who he is.

“Hey, Helmut, we have a few re-shoots to do. Do you want to start now?” one of the cameramen asks him, holding a microphone in his hand. “No… I’m tired; we’ll do it all tomorrow,” Helmut says, waving his hand. He’s no longer looking outside and instead at the man who he’s addressing. He nods and walks off before Helmut follows him. Common courtesy is to always escort your guests out, and Helmut was raised with manners. With a hand on the man’s lower back, and a smile on his face, Helmut gently pushes him out the door and locks it.

You watch him as he disappears, seemingly leading someone out of his home, and you think all is fine. That is until that little voice in your mind decides to be obnoxious. The slight possibility that you’ve been caught and he’s mad haunts you, and your breath hitches. Your eyeballs are wide open, as big as the eyes of an owl, and your hands shake a bit out of fear. They dampen up a bit, not enough to the point where you’d be disgusted, but they’re clammy nonetheless.

You make a move to jump off the latter, not caring about the possible risk of falling and scraping your pretty legs. Your hands begin to let go of the fence, but they’re stopped by someone grabbing you by your wrists. You let out a squeal of shock as they hold you tightly from over the barrier, and you’re screwed. “I’m sorry!” you quickly yell, squinting your eyes out of fear. You’re not sure what to expect, whether he would yell at you or threaten to call the cops.

“No, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m not mad. Come back,” Helmut tells you, and you calm down. Yet you’re still nervous, scared that he’s a liar and that you’ll be in deep shit with the law. You step back onto the latter and are wary of looking over the wood. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow thickly. “I’m not mad, okay? I think it’s kind of cute. You’re like a curious little bunny,” he smiles, and you giggle.

“Never been called that before, usually just a curious cat,” you share with him, and he laughs. “Well, that’s not wrong,” he adds. A brief silence intrudes, and you just stare at one another. Helmut’s eyes jump from feature to feature on your face, relishing in that unique gorgeousness of yours. Someone like you will never be found amongst models because you’re an absolute angel. You’re like a pretty rose amongst other flowers; all are beautiful in their own ways, but you always manage to stand out.

You wonder if Helmut is the wolf to your bunny. That dark look in his eyes that compliments his features and overall attitude. He carries himself in such a way that old Hollywood actors wish they were so graceful. He’s the polar opposite of you––seemingly. But from the few words you’ve exchanged with each other, he just might be a bunny friend to yours. “I- I saw that there were cameras and I heard people talking… Are you filming a movie?” you ask him.

“...Yes, we are, bunny. I apologize for being so loud. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions with a smile on his face. You nod your head and bite on your bottom lip, watching as his eyes brighten up a bit. “What’s it about? Can I know? Are you the main protagonist? Or the antagonist? What genre is it?” you interrogate, flooding him with questions. “Shh, one at a time, bunny. It’s very, very special and secretive. I can’t tell you much. But I’m the main protagonist, and it’s a bit of a naughty movie, so I don’t think a little girl like you should know much,” he whispers to you.

You nod your head as you listen to him, so intrigued about the work of art being filmed next door. “I’ve always wanted to be in a movie! Especially in one of those old Hollywood ones, they’re so good,” you admit to him shyly, with a coy smirk on your face. “Really? I think you’d be an amazing actress. You’d be even more popular than Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe,” Helmut praises, and you giggle once again.

“T- Thank you so much! ...Can I be in your movie?” you politely request him, but he shakes his head. You frown, your bottom lip jutted out. “You wouldn’t want to be in this movie, bunny. Remember what I said? It’s a naughty movie, and you’re just a little girl,” he reminds you, but you’re still pouting. “Is it a violent movie? One with curse words and lots of scary stuff?” you innocently ask, not sure as to what he means.

Helmut laughs quite loudly. “No,” he stifles a chuckle, “but one day I’ll shoot a movie with you, and I’ll show you how it’s all done.” He promises, and you can just tell he’s honest. You’re elated, hoping that the day he’s talking about will come soon. “What is your name, bunny?” Helmut asks, and you tell him. He nods before repeating it, giving you a smile. He brings both of your hands close to his face. You go on the tip of your toes to properly watch him once more. He presses his lips to the back of your hands, kisses them one by one.

“Go get some rest, bunny, and come by my place tomorrow,” he tells you before letting go of your wrists. He walks off before you do anything else. Sliding the glass door behind him, he disappears somewhere, and you’re left all by yourself. You’re still standing there, sighing dreamily as you replay the moments that will surely turn into a broken record. You hope that he’ll wear those blue swim shorts again, even though he’s already worn them twice.

There’s a skip in your step—nothing new and nothing unusual. Your shoes scratch against the concrete of the sidewalk that connects to Helmut’s front door. The sun only rose an hour and a half ago. The sky is a bright blue, filled with a few clouds that compliment the colour. The sun beats down onto your skin, and you haven’t forgotten to put on sunscreen once you finish twirling around in your little sundress.

You’ve got a miniature backpack that is slung over both of your shoulders. It’s orange, a bright one, in fact. It reminds you of the tangerines you love to peel, and those creamsicle treats that can be quite rare to find at this time of the year. You climb up the two steps that lead to his grey door, and you rap the wood a few times. There’s a doorbell too, one of those high-tech ones that record everything in its view.

Nothing but silence echoes back. No cars driving by, no birds chirping, no insects buzzing. Nothing. You wonder if he’s woken up yet, or if he’s even home. But as the door suddenly swings open––without a squeak, mind you––you’re met with the smiling face that belongs to Helmut. “Good morning, early-bird, is everything alright?” he questions, not one ounce of sleep tainting his look.

“Good morning! Everything is alright… D- Do you remember what you told me yesterday? About coming by?” you ask him, almost thinking to yourself that you’re just insane and that conversation never really happened. “Oh, right! Sorry, I've been a bit forgetful lately. But come in, have you eaten already?” Helmut asks as he moves to the side for you to enter.

Hesitatingly, you step inside his home. You kick off your shoes and look around. It seems sleek and modern at first, quite… different from the familiar feel of your house. Now, there are no wild polygons or geometric shapes that make you feel like you’ve been placed on a spaceship. No, it’s something that even your mind can’t come up with. The walls are a cream colour, engraved with different patterns that make it resemble marble. The chairs and couches have clear plastic legs on them, adding to that newfound era feel.

The floors are a light brown colour; wood in the shape of long, skinny parallelograms fitting against each other perfectly. The lights hang down a bit, high ceilings that you can’t even fathom reaching. You spin around and look up at them as they shine down brightly on you. They stem down from a pretty grey bronze appliqué that is attached to the ceiling. It’s practically art, just like the portraits of half-naked ladies that hang on his walls. There’s a specific piece that is above the fireplace.

It’s a mirror, and your reflection is in it. So is Helmut’s. You’re in front of him, looking at him through the mirror. He’s behind you, staring at your reflection. You both stay like that for a bit before you look away and admire the windows. He has such a lovely view; you can’t help but envy him for it. “Now, bunny, I have to be honest with you. We wrapped the movie up last night, and it was very late. I didn’t call you over because of that, and I’m really sorry about that. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions.

You nod your head eagerly, just sensing that he’ll lead on with some sort of good news. Your parents have done that far too many times for you not to know better. “But, if you want, I’ll put you in a movie. It’ll be just between you and me because it won’t be too professional, okay?” Helmut grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, waiting for your answer. “Oh, yes, please! That sounds amazing. Thank you so much!” you cheer, wrapping your arms around him.

You hug him tightly, and he eventually hugs you back. “Now, I want to finish it as soon as possible. So set your bag right on this couch, and go sit on that one,” Helmut instructs, pointing at the biggest couch in the living room. You nod and do exactly as he tells you. He walks away, possibly to set something up or to get ready, but either way, you still sit on his couch, filled with pure excitement. You cross one leg over the other, your pretty white dress covering the upper half of your thighs.

Lace that is on top of the cotton, both the same colour, and you realize how much you love this dress. Helmut saunters back into the living room, holding a giant tripod in one hand and a small camera in the other. You gasp at the sight, and he chuckles. Setting them up from the other side of the small coffee table, you watch him in awe. “This is going to be… a big girl movie, okay? Just like the one I was in. But I don't think it will be visible to the public eye, might just be between you and I,” Helmut tells you.

You nod in understanding. “Are you fine with that, little bunny?” he asks you just for reassurance. “Mhm, you can do anything you want; I don’t mind!” you reassure him, with a giant smile on your face. He swallows thickly as blood rushes downwards to his cock from your words. You still grin gleefully, such innocence on your features that he almost feels bad for having feelings for you.

He presses the little power button on the camera and waits for a green light to come on. With a smirk, Helmut walks around the table and stands in front of you. You look up at him, waiting for him to do something. He bends down and grabs both sides of your face––gently, of course––and he makes you stand up. He tilts his head and leans forward, slotting his lips against yours.

Now, you’ve kissed someone before. His name started with something along the lines of ‘J’ or ‘L,’ but that doesn’t matter. But that kiss was nothing like Helmut’s kiss. His kiss is soft and passionate, something you struggle to match. His lips stay locked with yours before moving to push his tongue into your mouth. You’re not sure what to do, so you just give up and let him kiss you until you both run out of breath. His tongue runs against the wet skin of your mouth, and you gasp at the feeling.

He eventually pulls away, and he looks at you with his eyes blown out. Helmut sighs and smiles at you. “You gotta trust me, okay?” he tells you once more, and you nod. “Ok…” you trail off, not knowing what to follow up with. “You gotta call me by a nickname, bunny… Hmm, how about Daddy?” he exclaims, his accent becoming more prominent. You love it and how unique it is. “Okay! I like that one a lot, my friend calls her boyfriend that sometimes,” you share with him, and he laughs.

He sits you down on the couch again, and his hand inches up your dress, making you giddy. He smiles at you, and you can see from the corner of your eye how the camera is filming you both. Helmut just knows you’re wet already, but you probably don’t know it. And he’s not wrong. You feel slightly tingly, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your panties slide down your legs, a wet patch on them, and Helmut throws them to the side. He lifts your dress over your head and tosses the fabric away, too.

He takes a step back and admires you. You still have your ankle socks on, but God, you’re so gorgeous he thinks he’s in heaven. “You’re so pretty, bunny. The prettiest bunny I’ve ever seen,” he compliments. You grow shy and smile before whispering a thank you. You smile at the camera, and he begins to undress. The first thing that goes is the robe, and his chest is now exposed.

Helmut hasn’t shaved his chest hair, and you’re glad. It looks nice on him––but to be fair––anything does. All he has on is those swim shorts. God, you love those shorts so much. They’re no longer wet, and yet they still cling to his thighs. He slowly pulls them down––and you feel as though you should look away and give him privacy––but you just can’t. His cock is hard, and it shows through the fabric, but you’re too busy staring at his hands to notice it.

His Adonis belt is slowly exposed, along with his pelvic bone, as he pulls down his boxers as well. There’s a small bush of hair right above his cock, and you find yourself wanting to tangle your fingers between the strands. Helmut’s cock bounces up––hard, red, and leaking––and the tip slaps right below his belly button. You let out a gasp, and he chuckles. His swim shorts lie on the floor, and you’re suddenly being urged to lay back.

Helmut climbs on top of you, caging you beneath his well-built body. Soft abs that are just perfect enough for you, and big hands that hold you so lovingly. He wants to feel his rough palms against your delicate skin, falling into every groove and curve there is. Like an artist admiring their artwork, he runs his hands along your body. From your thighs to your hips, over your stomach, between your breasts, all the way up to your neck. His hard cock is between your legs, nearly touching your sensitive little pussy.

You swallow nervously at the feeling. Helmut’s left hand wraps around your throat, and his right hand moves downwards to your legs. Gripping your calf, he places your right leg on the head of the couch and moves to position your left leg so that it hangs off the edge of the seat. You’re spread wide open for Helmut, not able to hide your naked body or close your legs. Your hands rest above your head, almost as though you’re pathetically shielding your hair from the rain.

Helmut’s hand still rests on your neck, but he doesn’t squeeze your throat or anything like that. You’re not sure if he’s playing the antagonist or not, but you decide to just go along with what he does. “You’re okay, right, bunny? You’re fine, I’m gonna treat you so good,” he promises, and you give him your best superstar smile. You have to admit that you’re nervous, but you trust him completely. Helmut would never do anything wrong to you.

“Has anyone ever touched you down here, bunny? Have you ever touched down here?” he questions you, walking his fingers up to your soaking wet pussy. “Hmm, uh, I touched it once, but I didn’t know what was happening, so I stopped,” you shyly explain to him, and he nods. “That’s okay, bunny. Can I touch you here? I won’t hurt you too badly, I promise,” Helmut assures you, and you nod. His index finger sticks out, and he watches as slick drips from your hole and coats the silky skin around it.

The digit becomes a bit shiny and quite sticky, and he traces your slit lightly. You shiver lightly from his touch, and sensitivity blooms in your core. “Uhm… Daddy?” you call out to him, a bit worried. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks, bringing his finger up to your clit. It throbs with want, just like the veins on his cock. “It feels very sensitive, almost too sensitive…” you admit to him, even though he continues to touch your clit.

“That’s okay, bunny, that’s how it’s supposed to feel. But if you want to stop, just tell me,” Helmut urges you. “Okay, Daddy.” He rubs your little nub in small, light circles. The muscles in your legs twitch, and you bite down on your bottom lip. He continues to touch your clit, and you begin to writhe from the overwhelming feeling. You let out a few whines, and Helmut watches as your cunt just gets wetter and wetter.

You try to shift his hands away from you in your weird position. It’s just too much at once, and you’re scared of what will happen next. The pornstar’s finger slips off your cunt, and he lets out a small gasp. The sound is mixed with displeasure, and you look him in the eyes with innocence. “Don’t do that again, bunny,” he warns, squeezing your neck a bit just to add to his threat. His index finger returns to your clit, and this time, he rubs your little pearl even harder. You see stars, ones that are dark and would be hidden in the blackness of outer space. Your eyes roll back into your skull, and you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. Helmut’s digit touches the most sensitive part of your clit, and you jerk in response. Your legs try to shut close, but his body stops you from doing so.

When you open your eyes, you’re faced with a displeased superstar. Helmut lets out a shaky exhale, trying to compose himself. He knows he shouldn’t get mad at you, but he just doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have his way. His hand leaves your cunt and moves downwards. Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, making you cry out in pain. The skin stings and prickles, and you can feel slight tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Instead of staring at your pretty little face, Helmut squeezes your neck even tighter and watches as your little hole begins to leak with even more wetness. “Aww, bunny, did you enjoy Daddy hitting you? Hm? I bet you did; that’s you’re so wet,” he chuckles, and you grow shy. He’s not wrong, though. You enjoyed the pain quite a bit, even though you tend to avoid any and all activities that could leave you with a minor injury.

“Such a little slut for pain. But I bet you don’t like it when Daddy gets mean with you, right? Yeah, because you’re just a sensitive little bunny,” he coos, and you smile. You nod to him, and he grins down at you. Helmut’s cock is a furious red, almost purple if you really look closely. Beads of precum run down the sides of his cock, all the way to his thick base. He slaps your ass once more, enjoying the way you flinch and then smile from delight.

“I guess I’ve been a bit mean, just touching your little button without even letting you come…” he sighs before shifting onto his knees. Helmut looks over to the camera, just to make sure it’s still recording. And it is, so he smiles. He towers over you even more now, a few strands on his hair dangling downwards, and you find yourself wanting to play with them. The hand that was on your ass grasps the base of his cock, and he runs the head through your folds.

A quiet squelching sound echoes between the both of you, and you giggle. Your laughter is cut short when he bumps up against your clit, and you let out a moan. The sound is unexpected on your behalf, but Helmut just smirks. Your moans turn into a string of shallow pants, and he curses under his breath at the feeling. Dragging his head away from your clit, he brings himself down to your hole, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“Shh, just let Daddy in, okay? I know it’s your first time, but it’s okay. You’re fine, don’t worry,” Helmut reassures. You nod your head and let out a pained cry as he pushes into you slowly. You feel as though you’re being torn apart, split into two. He grips your throat even tighter, and you wrap your hand around his wrist in a panicked, fleeting moment.

Helmut sheathes himself inside you, with your mouth parted open in a silent scream and his eyebrows knitted together. He eventually bottoms out, and the stretch of his cock goes from a harsh burn to a pleasurable feeling. His swollen balls touch your aching ass, and he bends down to kiss your forehead lightly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he questions. “Y- Yes, it feels really good, Daddy. Just a li’l uncomfortable, but it feels really good,” you tell him.

Your cunt squeezes him in a tight hug, your silky wet walls welcoming him in hesitantly. He wishes to stay inside you his whole life, and he would if he could convince you. Helmut pulls out until his head is the only thing inside you before roughly thrusting back inside. You cry out, and his hand loosens around your throat. “Such a good girl, letting me use your pussy for my pleasure. You like being recorded while I fuck you, right? Say it,” he demands, fucking into you roughly.

Your tits bounce with each and every movement. Helmut’s cock gets closer and closer to your sweet spot, and you moan loudly. “I- I like being recorded while you fuck me, Daddy,” you repeat to him. Helmut groans loudly, and you clench down on his cock tightly. “You feel so good, bunny, better than anyone else,” he compliments, feeling slick sweat beginning to build upon his back. “Uhm, Daddy? S- Something’s happening,” you whisper to him through your desperate cries of pleasure.

Searing heat grows hotter and hotter in your stomach, right above your pussy. You’ve never felt like this before, other than when Helmut was touching your pussy a few moments ago. “Let it happen, bunny, it’s okay, come all over Daddy’s big cock. I know you can do it, squeeze me, bunny,” Helmut urges, and you listen to him. The powerful feeling grows and grows, and so do your moans. And the elastic cord breaks eventually. It always does.

You cry out ‘Daddy’ as you come undone around his cock for the very first time. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even though you’re gripping him so tightly. You gush all over him, wetness coating his cock, and it makes him fuck you even quicker. The sound of skin on skin and loud moans fill the room, and Helmut hopes to God that the microphone is picking up on it all. The feeling in your body makes you lose all sense of reality, and you’re babbling like a little baby.

“Daddy- It’s too much,” you sob to him, digging your nails into your palms. “Shh, it’s okay, bunny,” he shushes gently, keeping his hand wrapped lazily around your neck. Helmut’s cock slams into your cunt, pounding into you ruthlessly, yet he’s somehow oh so gentle. Your eyes roll into the back of your head again, and you moan gently as you feel another climax being built up. Back to back, and you’re not sure how your body is going to handle it.

He’s close, too. He’s never had this happen before, and he’s not sure what to think of it.

“Awe, you’re going to come again, bunny? That’s okay, shh, Daddy’s here, bunny. We’ll do it together, and it’ll b- be good,” he tells you, and you nod. Helmut bends down and places his shiny forehead against yours. He stares you into your glassy eyes––they’re hazy––and he can tell you’re gone. You’ve gotten all stupid and dumb for his cock, and he loves the idea so much.

You both pant as he sloppily fucks into your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill up your tight little pussy with my cum. Gonna watch it leak out, and I’m just gonna fill you up over and over again. Make you all mine because you belong to me. Right? Say it,” he growls, fucking you even faster. “I’m all yours, Daddy, I’m all yours,” you say to him, and you’re both pushed off the edge after one specific thrust.

“O- Oh my…” you choke out, squeezing your eyes shut. Helmut curses loudly, saying all kinds of sinful things that a nun would faint if she hears him. His cock twitches as he comes inside you, and your pussy squeezes him as you let go. Streaks of cum shoot out his tip and paint your inner walls, and it all begins to leak out already. Your cum mixes with his, and he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight of it.

He presses a kiss on your nose before slowly pulling out. Helmut’s cock is still hard, and he just knows the afternoon won’t end until he says so. You wince loudly at the feeling of emptiness and overwhelming sensitivity. “Sorry, bunny,” he frowns, reaching over for the camera. You watch him through droopy eyelids as he focuses it on your cunt, then to your body, and then to your face.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” you ask him excitedly.

“So good, bunny. You’re going to be sweeping up at the awards next year.”

[selenesheart]

present // j.p.

word count: 0.8k

warnings: a lot of fluff, comfort, mention of tits, titty sucking, sub james if you squint, annoyed/tired james.

summary: james finds comfort sucking on your tits.

—————

james groaned as he scratched the back of his head. quidditch practice was more exhausting than ever, and the team didn’t seem to cooperate today either. and to add on, there was a storm currently going down.

sweaty face, dirty quidditch uniform, tired muscles. james sighed as he walked through the silent hall, his current desire was to get to his dorm and take a hot shower.

he pouted slightly as he remembered that you were studying for the upcoming exams, wanting to cuddle with you all night, his lover, his comfort.

finally arriving at his lonely dorm, he stepped in, his tiredness was growing by the minute. the gryffindor boy lazily took off his dirty jersey, his long fingers working to unzip his wet trousers. after he was done, his naked figure made its way to the dorm’s bathroom, turning on the shower head, he sighed as he felt the warm liquid going down his tired body.

james relaxed as the fog began to fill the steamy room. all of his stress, all of his worries, all of that was going away while he was drowning his hair with his sweet shampoo that you loved so much.

soon enough, he was done showering, the young boy picked up a white towel from the wall hook, placing it around his toned waist, his attractive v-line now exposed.

the black haired boy hummed softly as he opened the bathroom door, the fog of the shower leaving behind him. his vision fell to your sleepy figure, a smile along with a light frown appeared in his face, he was happy to see you, of course he was, but you certainly told him that you were busy tonight with work. he guessed that was not the case tonight.

his heart began thumping in his chest, he was obviously excited to see you, to feel you once again. his legs took him to the side of his bed, where you were laying, looking up at him lovingly.

“didn’t you have work to do?” he asked after he got dressed, now by your side, his big hands placed on top of your hip as you turned to the side to look at him.

“i missed you, besides i figured i could do it tomorrow” you let out a breathy laugh when you saw james’ cheeky smile, but you could tell that he felt tired, he was having a rough day after all.

“james, ” you whispered to your boyfriend “you look rather tired, baby. do you wanna rest, hm?” you hummed as you soothed his muscular arm, he lazily nodded while kissing your forehead, his lips traveled from your face to your collarbone, eventually your chest.

“just wanna feel ‘em” james breathed against you, tucking on your jumper signaling that he wanted off. you understood perfectly what he meant, taking your top off, you spoke softly.

“you like them, don’t you?” you teased him. you felt the boy below nod as he begin to kiss your mounds softly.

“they are so soft and pretty” he admired your breasts, gripping them gently, playing with them as if they were his favorite toy. you laughed at his response, your hand making its way on top of his head, finger ready to play with his hair.

while he was kissing, licking, sucking you chest, he felt safe, he felt close to you, he felt at home, he felt some sort of comfort. a comfort that he would kill to feel all the time. a comfort that had him knowing that you are and will always be there for him, no one else.

you. he felt like the most luckiest man in the world when he had you. he felt like he was in heaven right at this moment, when you were exposed to him, welcoming him.

all his body parts relaxed as he took your nipple in his warm mouth, swirling his tongue around it. your hands were located on the back of his neck, massaging him gently as he gave attention to your hard nipples.

his head was in between your breasts, sucking your right tit as he massaged the other softly. praises and compliments were flowing out of your mouth repeatedly, making him feel warm inside, making him feel loved.

if he could, james would do this all day. it was his favorite thing to do, his favorite hobby, it was like you were made for him. james potter loved your breasts. james potter loved the comfort you gave him. 

all the laughs, giggles, memories. you were james’ comfort, you made him feel things that no one else could. and tonight, right here was the place to be, it all felt right, it was right.

and that’s how the night ended, with the black haired boy attached to your chest, as your fingers gently traveled through his clean hair. you were his comfort and you were more than happy to stay with him, forever.

────

[chaeryybomb]

and the cold came, the dark days, when fear crept into my mind

pairing: lee felix x gender neutral!reader

genre: hurt with comfort

featuring: yeh shuhua

wordcount: 0.7k

warnings: depressed thoughts

a/n: i needed this

avoiding his calls are something felix had gotten used to after befriending you. even after getting together, these habits were hard to die. it's a common occurrence, really. sometimes you go by days to weeks without contacting and of your friends. you are one to avoid when everything is too overwhelming. and he doesn't blame you for it. he never did.

that's just lee felix, the sweetest boy ever.

so here he stands, in front of your bedroom door. shuhua, your roommate, is the one who lets him in. she too is concerned for your well-being. but knowing you for all these years, she knows only felix can drag you out from the dark hole. she doesn't know how he does it, but it works every time. one time you told her that you think he's an angel sent from heaven, to finally save you from yourself.

felix gently opens your door, your room is dark with the only light source being from the opened door where he stands. you are huddle under the thick blankets, silence engulfs your room with the occasionally sniffs from you. he closes it behind him as he slowly makes his way towards you. your room is small, it only takes him a few steps before he reaches the end of your bed. it's cold, he takes note, loosely reminding him of an animal in hibernation.

sitting next to you, he doesn't say anything but lays a gentle hand on your head. you don't need to switch on the lights to know who it is, in an instant you are in his arms. burrowing your head in his chest as his arms wrap around you. what seems like since forever, you feel safe in his arms. you always did. (once you had jokingly said that his embrace was your home, felix suspected that joke was actually your reality.)

felix is the first person you've seen, felt, in days. you know he will always come to find you, no matter how many times you repeat this dreadful habit. he always come looking for you, and he finds you every time. "i'm sorry," you croak out, "i'm sorry," you repeat the same phrase all over like a mantra.

he never accepts them because it's not your fault, he tells you every time to not apologise but it's always the first thing you say when these days occur. he shushes you and runs his hand through your hear, then he's rubbing comforting circles on your back. the two of you sit like that for a moment, relishing in the comfortable aura he's created.

"do you want to talk about it?' he asks in a whisper.

all the thoughts come crashing in your mind but you can't turn them into words. you inhale deeply, tightening your hold on the boy. felix runs his hand over your back again, planting a kiss on your head, "take your time," he tells you.

"everything was going so well lately," you finally say. you don't raise your head, opting to stay buried in his embrace. "things were going so good, a-and i just," your voice is muffled by his shirt as you take another breath. "then...then everything just went south, problems were just appearing and i couldn't take it," that's when felix feel his shirt getting dampened.

you can't stop the tears, they just keep flowing. "why does life hate me? what did i do to deserve this?" you sob, you clench your fists. "i'm so pathetic," you whisper.

felix moves his hands so they're cupping your face, even in the dark he can tell how tired you are. he rubs the tears away and you let him. "i'm sorry, my love," he says to you. "i'm sorry life has been so hard on you," his voice is soft and gentle, everything about him is just gentle. "i promise you, everything will turn out fine. you don't have to face this alone, my dear, i will be by your side the entire time," he promises you. he promises the same thing all over again and not once has he broken this promise.

you nod, closing your eyes and nodding your head. he leans in to kiss your forehead as the tears dry up. lee felix is your home, your comfort, your everything. you like to think that felix is an apology given to you by life for making you suffer, he's here to patch you up and give you the unconditional love that you deserve. and you will do the exact same thing for him.

© chaeryybomb 2022

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

[justalonelybitch]

I am very excited for your blog!!! Can’t wait <3

Will you write a Wendy x seulgi x reader where she visits them during GOT practice or something like idk you can decide what to write

I hope you like it! It's pretty short and consists of fluff and fluff only, plus a little recognition for Zero :)

Surprise

Seulgi x Wendy x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: loneliness (very brief)

Word Count: 640

Buy me a coffee :)

When you woke up this morning you were once again met with an empty bed. You loved your girlfriends, but these past few weeks they have been so busy. Nights included you falling asleep alone, Seulgi and Wendy coming home hours after. Then you’d wake up to cold sheets in the morning with no trace of them. It was as if you lived alone.

All these thoughts of missing them was how you found yourself walking through the halls of SM. Excitement coursing through your veins at the idea of finally being able to see their beautiful faces. As a staff member led you to where they were practising she came to a stop at a certain door. Bowing to you she excused herself, leaving you to enter on your own.

Hearing loud music booming on the inside you knew it would be no use if you just knocked. So as quietly as you could, you opened the door, slipping inside. No one seemed to notice your presence, all of the girls busy dancing along to the beat of the music.

You took the time to admire your girlfriends. Seulgi’s movements were graceful as always, flowing effortlessly in time with the music. Wendy and her cute expression as she focused, you could barely hear her melodic humming over the music. They looked heaven sent, you wanted to do nothing more than wrap your arms around them in a tight embrace.

When their performance came to a stop your claps echoed around the room, making everyone whip their heads around to face you. “Y/n?” Seulgi asked, a puzzled expression on her face. “Jagiya!” Wendy exclaimed, running towards your waiting arms. Seulgi trailing behind her as she hugged you from behind, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Ahhh, cute,” the other girls squealed. Their sunbaes watched in fondness at the exchange, meanwhile the younger ones couldn't help but fan girl at your cute relationship. It seemed that Zero, Taeyeon’s dog, also wanted a piece of the action, running up to the three of you.

It was only when Boa ushered everyone to the other side of the room, leaving you to have at least a bit of privacy. You nodded in thanks to her, but you could tell they were still all watching you guys.

“When did you get here?” Wendy asked, pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Not long ago, don’t worry. I just really missed you guys,” you admitted. Their hearts swelled at your confession, pulling you impossibly closer to them. “We missed you too Y/n,” they muttered shyly.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been around much lately, but that’ll all be over soon!” Seulgi spoke with joy, her eyes crinkling cutely. “I’m so happy you came,” Wendy said. Neither of them liked pda, but they haven't seen you in what felt like forever. Therefore they couldn’t help but press sweet kisses to your cheek as you caught up on what you’d been up to lately.

It was only when Hyoyeon came over, looking very apologetic as she told them it was time to practice again. “Will you stay and watch?” Seulgi asked with hope in her eyes, a look that you couldn’t resist. You pressed one lingering kiss to both of their cheeks before letting them go.

You didn’t stray very far, instead opting to sit down on one of the vacant chairs. You watched as they got straight back into it, professional as ever. Eyes shining with mirth as you watched them, they really were amazing at what they did. You were brought from your thoughts at the light tapping on your knee.

Looking down you were met with Zero’s pleading eyes, unable to deny him, you lifted him into your arms. Stroking his head you continued to watch your girlfriends practice, a lovesick look in your eyes.

i think i'm zero biased... his owner is pretty cute too tho

[runanadwiddles]

Focus

I was inspired by another song... soooo.... have Subaru <3 this took days to finish but it was so worth it~ panda I hope I did your man justice www

wordy county: 2.28k words

 

Before Subaru knew it, he was already watching you. Always standing behind from a skewed angle. From childhood to high school, he wondered, was he the focus of your heart? Curiosity filled him to the brim, and he’s been wanting to know for the longest time for as long as he can remember. 

The two of you have been together since you guys were small. Childhood friends is what one would say. The two of you were always together, even running and falling together. Still, you guys were always laughing with the purest of smiles regardless of falling down. Innocent childhood memories filled the two of your memories to the very brim, practically overflowing. 

High school soon came right around the corner, and a blooming feeling grew in a certain ginger’s chest. Subaru may have grown, but at the same time, he hasn’t grown up yet, but those small steps became bigger over time, allowing the boy to run even faster to what he dreams of. What did the boy even dream of? He dreamed of many things, but his biggest dream is to be with you. 

From the days he entered Yumenosaki, he couldn’t help but have his mind entirely on you. Being in different courses made it hard to be together. Still, the two of you always stayed together when given the chance. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he often thought about you rather than just unconsciously.

Whenever he saw your smile, the way your hair flows so gently, and the mild yet sweet scent that always filled the air around him, he wished that he stayed ignorant to these thoughts, but now these thoughts forever plague him every day and every hour. All of his thoughts were focused on you. 

During your childhood days, you often cried your heart out to your childhood friend. The same ginger-haired boy from high school never left your side, not a single time, even during those youthful days. If Subaru could describe you, it would be someone standing in the light, if not the light themselves. He’s always attracted to you like a moth drawn to bright light. Even from his earlier days, he wanted to know, who was the focus of your heart? 

Sakura petals dwindled in the air as the two of you walked together to school. “You left Daikichi at home today, huh?” You asked the azure-eyed boy, noticing the fluffy fur ball of energy was missing. “Oh, yeah, Daikichi wasn’t feeling good today, so I let him stay home today,” Subaru gave a sulky face, clearly worried for his companion. “But, that’s why I have you Y/n~!” Subaru immediately cheered, his bright expression never changing. 

Throughout the past years, he was never able to open that special door, but now, he hopes to be able to open it now. “Huh- We’re in different courses though, and you know that Subaru,” You chuckled, shaking your head at the boy’s enthusiastic attitude. “Yeah, but that’s what lunch is for if I don’t have practice!” Subaru sang, obviously not caring if you both have different schedules. 

However, Subaru cared a lot. He had so many things to tell you, but every time he tried, it always ended up as a failure. From awkward stuttering, unexpected changes of topics, and even flustered facial expressions came from the boy. Luckily for him, you never really picked up major hints from him. He wouldn’t know what to do if you found out that he fancied you. 

Subaru was always protected, whether if it was his mother during his father’s passing, the rest of Trickstar being his pillar of support throughout the school year, or if it was just you always being by his side throughout his life. The sparkling genius stared up at the ceiling, clearly zoning out. Not long after, he returned back to reality, reminiscing a memory he treasured most, a daydreamy scenery of him and you under the starry sky as kids. That memory was his treasure, the thing he treasures most other than you. He wants to keep you safe away from all the evil in the world, even if it’s the smallest of things. 

“Akehoshi-kun? Hey, Akehoshi-kun, hello?” Makoto waved a hand in front of the boy’s face, although the method clearly wasn’t working. “Subaru? Subaru, you better snap out of it before Hokuto steps in,” Mao sang in a sing-a-song voice, towering over the boy’s laying figure. “Huh? Oh, Sari and Ukki~! What’s wrong?” Subaru tilted his head slightly in confusion, not really understanding why the two would call out to him randomly. 

Mao and Makoto looked at each other with concern; how do they explain the situation to the oblivious boy. “Hmm? What are you guys doing over there all crouched down?” Hokuto walked over, also joining the three others, curious about what the situation was. “Akehoshi-kun seems to be all spacey recently; how do we bring this up to him?” Makoto whispered into Hokuto’s ears, worry laced in his voice completely. Hokuto looked at the ginger, observing the once again spaced-out boy. 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Hokuto looked at the two with confusion. Pure silence enveloped the room as Makoto and Mao had the same thought in mind, “There it is! Blunt Hokuto!” Mao chuckled nervously, “If you want, you can try and ask him, right Makoto?” Mao nudged the emerald-eyed boy, hoping he’d understand the social cue. Makoto simply nodded in agreement, his facial expression saying otherwise. 

Hokuto took the two’s response as a signal and called out to their mood-making member, “Akehoshi, is something on your mind?” Subaru blinked a few times before looking at Hokuto, “What’s on my mind?” Subaru asked himself, just like how Hokuto asked him, “Hmm, now that I think about it, Y/n has been on my mind a lot more recently… Like, everything goes ‘sparkle sparkle’ and ‘doki doki~’ you know?” Everyone sat in the room in silence. Was he serious? 

“Subaru… How long have you been feeling like this?” Mao nervously asked, attempting to not make it obvious. Subaru sat up, scratching his head, “Hmm… For a while now, I think ever since my first year of middle school? I never really knew why though…” Makoto silently died inside, “Y-you’ve been feeling like that since your first year of middle school?!” Subaru simply nodded with a grin, “Yeah, the two of us have always been together since childhood as well!” 

While Mao and Makoto silently panicked inside more and more, Hokuto silently nodded along and listened to what the others had to say. ‘It’s like it came out of a shoujo manga!’ Makoto and Mao instinctively thought in sync; however, Hokuto had a different thought in mind. “Why don’t you try asking them?” Mao and Makoto quickly snap their heads at Hokuto, their eyes filled with horror. “Wait, wait, wait! Hold up, slow down! What?” Mao quickly stepped in between the two’s conversation. Subaru and Hokuto looked at the two panicked boys; what was bringing them so much trouble to see every panicked emotion on their faces? 

“What’s wrong with you two?” Hokuto turned away from Subaru, his eyes locking onto the two frantic members. “You guys are so dense; it’s worrisome…” Mao massaged his temples as he let out a sigh. Subaru and Hokuto sat together with confusion; how were they dense? 

Makoto nodded with a sigh of relief; it’s a good thing that Mao was there to tell them and not him. “Anyways, Akehoshi-kun, since you say that everything goes ‘sparkle sparkle’ and ‘doki doki’ when you’re always with Y/n, how would you feel if someone took her away from you?” Makoto attempted to pry gently, not really wanting to make it obvious. Unfortunately, it was obvious to Mao only, though. 

Subaru’s ears perked up, but not in a positive way, not at all. “By who, though?” The ginger asked with thoughts plaguing his mind slowly. “Hmm, let’s say… Makoto, for example, would you let Makoto take your precious Y/n from you?” Mao jumped along the hypothetical train, pointing at Makoto with a slight grin. “Huh? Why me? It could’ve been anyone else!” Makoto’s voice became higher pitched as he panicked even more. 

Subaru shook his head aggressively, “No way! As much as I love Ukki, he can’t have Y/n!” Right after that statement, there was a knock at the door. Everyone’s eyes darted towards the door as Hokuto gave the person to come in, “It’s unlocked, come in.” The door opened slowly as you poked your head through the gap between the door and the frame, “Subaru? You ready to go home? You told me practice would end around this time, so I came here to come get you.” 

Subaru hopped back up on his feet as he nodded excitedly, “Yeah, let me get changed, and I’ll be on my way out~!” You nodded your head and gave a tiny head bow to the rest of the members of Trickstar before shutting the door. “How much do you think they’ve heard?” Makoto awkwardly asked as Subaru quickly gathered his belongings in the background. “It’s soundproof, so luckily, they wouldn’t have heard anything regardless of how long they’ve been waiting,” Hokuto stood up and stretched his arms, recalling how they booked the soundproof room. 

Within seconds the three see a flash of orange before their eyes rushing out of the room excitedly. “Bye-bye Hokke, Sari, Ukki~!” Subaru waved, who insanely changed at the speed of light. How did he do it? No one ever knows. Perhaps it’s his motivation to see you that made him go so fast. 

The three members sighed in sync as they waved off their mood-maker. As you patiently waited, you heard the door slam open and to see your childhood friend, smiling bright as ever. “Ah, Subaru, welcome back! Ready to go home?” You turned off your phone, dropping it into your bag. Subaru happily nodded as he walked ahead of you, “I’m always ready!” You chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm, catching up to him as he stood waiting for you, “Do you wanna have dinner at my place then? My parents are working late today, so what do you say?” you offered, as the two of you continue walking down the hallway to the school entrance. Subaru’s eyes quickly emitted stars in them, “Really? Of course! I love eating Y/n’s cooking~!” 

“I guess it’s settled then, how does pork cutlet sound?” You awkwardly smiled to yourself, praying that Subaru would agree, since that was all what’s in the fridge right now. “Sure! I’m okay with that,” Subaru quickly agreed as he looked up at the starry sky, admiring how bright those specks of light can be. “But more importantly, how was your day?” Subaru quickly changed the subject, wanting to hear your voice more. He wanted to know what was going on during your day, all of it. 

Subaru thought long and hard with his inner self; he had so many things to tell and ask you, but he couldn’t form the words. Your words slowly sink into his mind as he kept thinking to himself, soon enough your words were drowned out by his thoughts. Should he just be straight forward and tell you how he feels? Perhaps should he just stay quiet about his emotions? “...baru? Subaru? Hey~ Give me an answer,” you poked the boy’s shoulder, attempting to get his attention as you call out his name. 

After multiple calls, Subaru finally snapped out of his train of thoughts. ‘Now or never’ was the only thought running through his mind. “I like you,” Subaru blurted out, his face blank, as the situation hasn’t been fully processed by him. “Huh?” You gave a flustered look, you could practically feel your face and ears becoming warmer by the second. As the two of you stopped walking, silence engulfed your surroundings. This wasn’t the ideal situation to confess, but the boy didn’t really care.

“Huh?” Subaru looked up at the sky and then back at you, “What’s wrong? Your face is all red y’know?” You blinked a few times, trying to also process what was going on, “You- Do you really not know?” Subaru shook his head, clearly not understanding what you meant. “What’s with the ‘I like you’? It was so random… Do you even mean it?” You muttered, averting your gaze from him to the ground. 

The realization hit Subaru like a truck, he really did blurt that out somehow didn’t he? However, he had to keep his cool, although, his flushed state could say otherwise, “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?” Subaru could practically feel his heart beating ten times faster than it usually would, the anxiousness of this confession might get the best of him perhaps. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “Phew… That’s a relief…” Subaru looked at you with a confused face, “Relief?” You nodded as you took a deep breath in, gathering enough courage, “Can I be the focus of your heart?” The saying was quite cheesy, but it was definitely enough to show to Subaru that you felt the same. You felt your face grow even hotter as you quickly walked ahead, trying to cool yourself down. 

Subaru smiled happily as he caught up to you, slipping his hand into yours, “Pork cutlet sounds good tonight doesn’t it?” You stifled a laugh, but couldn’t keep it in, “Sounds like someone’s hungry~” Sweet cinnamon air flowed between you guys as the luminous stars guided the two of you home, a place full of even more sweet memories moving forward.

[letters-unsending]

Can you continue the villain wound healing and superhero i love the slight angst and unrequited love vibes!!

Prompt No. 16 continuation

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unrequited? nah. unfulfilled is where im getting my angst from today.

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“I didn’t think you’d come back.” 

“You saved my life.” 

“Semantics.” Villain grinned, prying open the balcony door  to let Superhero in. If it were even possible, Superhero looked livelier than he’d ever seen him, but perhaps, pixels and ink prints could never fully capture his presence. A screen could not translate the way he took up space in the room or how his energy flowed with vivacity of a lush growth forest. 

And who was Villain to let such a man—such a brilliant existence—die in darkness? 

Villain followed Hero inside and stood in front of him. Under the yellow wash of the kitchen light, it was difficult to see the finer details of Hero’s face, but the white scar across his cheekbone was still there. Villain remembered it when he had first seen the mark. The wicked, red gash had cleaved through the entire side of his face and it bled horribly till Villain had coaxed it into a small, thin line. 

The sight reminded him that it had all been real, that Superhero in his home and under his care had not just been a figment of his own fantasy. 

“Well, it looks like you’ve been following doctor’s orders.” Villain reached out and brushed his thumb over Superhero’s cheek. The scar was rough and slightly waxy compared to the rest of Superhero’s skin. Villain could heal it. He could make Hero’s entire face blemishless, but he wanted to keep the memory there, forever a reminder of what had transpired. “No marks I haven’t seen before,” Villain took a long  moment to eye the rest of Hero, “unless you’re hiding them.” 

Superhero looked down at Villain and time seemed to swell, slower, faster, for some immeasurable lapse. Gaze unbreaking, Hero clasped his hand over where Villain’s own rested on his face. 

“Thank you.” He squeezed Villain’s knuckles with tender fingers. “You have done so much for this city and so..so much more for me.”

Hero picked up Villain’s hand and directed it to his chest. Even beneath the shell of his chest guard, Villain felt the call of Hero’s skin and flesh, the sing-song pulse of Hero’s handmade heart. The sensation was different now, after a month of healing, as Hero’s body had come to integrate much of what Villain left in place. It was Villain’s best work and the healing was seamless. From the looks of it, he’d even made Hero stronger. 

There was no issue. 

“You’re welcome.” Villain swept his thumb over the metal arc of Hero’s armor. He was glad Superhero had taken on more protection, but he wanted nothing more to see and to feel the skin and muscle underneath. Like an artist, he wished to see the mark he’d left on Hero’s chest, that beautiful, silvery star. “But I do not need your thanks, nor any repayment you wish to give, or have already given.” 

Both of Henchman’s kids had received anonymous donations toward their college funds. Villain didn’t need to ask to know where it came from. 

At Superhero’s quirked brow, Villain pressed his palm flat down, pushing slightly. “You thought you were so sneaky? I can’t even return the money because you gave it to those damn kids.” Of course he was appreciative, but he never wanted a reward. Saving Hero was not a task nor a mission, it was more of a fate. It was something he would always do, no matter the situation or price. “Just keep yourself alive,” he said, “that’s all I’ll ever need from you.” 

Villain thought it was a high enough price. He looked back up at Hero’s face. The man was probably no older than Villain himself. 

He had never seen a Superhero live a long life. Their lives were always intense and short, like a shooting star that you’d miss if you so much as blinked. But Villain needed Superhero to stay in the sky. After he’d held Hero’s luminous heart in his hands and thrown him back into the burning atmosphere, he felt as if he was responsible to keep him aloft, to keep him living for as long as he dared.

“But what do you want from me?” Hero asked in a whisper, as if speaking the question aloud would make it something more. 

“What I want,” Villain spoke, placing his hands back over Hero’s cheekbones, feeling that lovely little scar, “is something more than you can’t give me right now.” 

“I can give-”

“You belong to the city, [Superhero] and nothing I could ever do could take you away from it. In another place, in another time, this could be something.” He looked into Hero’s eyes, burning, beautiful and full of intent. “But I won’t take something what was never meant to be mine. 

[hornime]

home workout | bokuto koutarou x gn!reader

“i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

warnings: 18+, sub!bokuto, jealous!reader (i mean who wouldn’t be when bokuto, your goddamn boyfriend, is perceived by other people the fuck), also lowkey possessive!reader, lotsa licking and sucking, nipple play, some praise (from reader) and some begging, brief mention of dacryphilia, kinda soft at the end

w/c: 1.5k sheesh

a/n: bokuto brainrot has me in literal tears. him being completely clueless to people flirting w him cus he doesn’t recognize romance from anyone but you has me so soft. i luv this man w my whole heart !!!!! ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE BAKUGO FIC I JUST ABOUT SHIT MY PANTS WOOWWOWO

you weren’t an idiot. you knew that your boyfriend was attractive in literally every aspect of the word. he was sweet, patient, and kind, and what he lacked in academic smarts was made up tenfold in his emotional maturity and ability to read people. big and beefy, bokuto was all yours and all you wanted to stay trapped within his arms forever. unfortunately, to maintain the figure you adored so much and stay in shape for the volleyball season, he had to leave the four walls of your shared bedroom far more than you liked, having a daily obligation to spend a few hours at the gym.

once again, you weren’t an idiot. the few times that your work schedule and his training schedule aligned, you’d been able to work out together. and despite your knowledge of just how good-looking bokuto was and the fact that other people could perceive him (much to your chagrin) you were shocked at just how much people shamelessly flirted with him. 

cute girls with matching leggings and sports bras practically clung to his biceps, gushing about how strong he was and how he could probably pick them up with just one hand. their incessant giggling, mesmerizing hair twirling, and teasing touches pissed you off to no end, and you’d tug your boyfriend away before their breasts got too close to him for your liking.

something else you noticed was that, no matter how blatantly obvious the girls seemed to be, the guys were somehow worse, flirting through terms you couldn’t even understand. they compared deadlift weights, bicep curls, hip thrusts; you gritted your teeth thinking about whether they’d ever compared cock sizes in the locker room—you wouldn’t put it past those thirsty gym rats. sneaky bastards.

and bokuto, of course, was oblivious to it all. how could you blame him—he was so used to being adored! you knew that, to him, all of their praises paled in comparison to yours, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous. he was all yours—should be all yours—and you hated sharing him with the world.

you woke up saturday morning with a ringing in your ears, hand smacking the nightstand trying to turn off that god-awful alarm noise, bleary eyes barely able to focus on the text notification from your boyfriend.

[5:33 AM] kou: gm babe!!!! i didnt wanna wake u up cus u looked so peaceful! im heading to the gym rn. text me when ur up! love uu

[5:34 AM] kou: should be home around 9!! gym bud wants to show me something so i might be a little late for breakfast.

just to reiterate, you weren’t an idiot. for all the annoying flirting you noticed when you were with bokuto, there was no doubt in your mind that there must be a lot more when he was at the gym alone, which, unluckily for you, was most of the time since he was a freakin’ pro athlete and all.

you couldn’t prevent the pool of envy from swirling in your gut. gym bud? are you serious? who could that be? the girl with the arm tat or the dude with the dreads? no, maybe its that yoga instructor with the ass—

you shook your head, clearing your brain. you’d be here for hours if you went through everyone at that stupid gym that had ever shown interest in bokuto. the clock read 9:53 AM and the green flame in your body only burned brighter. just as you were about to call him and ask where he was, the front door slammed open.

“babe! i’m home!”

you silently put your phone down, teeth still clenching in jealousy. for some reason, hearing his voice only exacerbated the tension in your shoulders. you needed him. now.

“babe?” his voice creeped closer as he tread through the hallway towards the room. “you up?”

you peeked your head out of the doorframe, cheery voice masking your devilish intentions, “kou!"

his eyes brightened as he made eye contact with you and flashed his trademark smile. “hey! what’s u-” he took in the mischievous glint in your eyes “-p?”

you grabbed his burly forearm, yanking him behind you and walking towards him, forcing him to stumble and fall back on the bed. “wait! i’m all gross and sweaty,” he said, “gym showers were broke-”

“i don’t care. take off your shirt.”

“wow, someone’s eager. missed me that much?”

“watch it,” you glared. “i’m not in the mood, kou.”

he gulped at the dominance radiating from your voice, scrambling to take off the t-shirt that stretched between his pecs perfectly. with the fabric off and throw haphazardly to the side, he looked to you expectantly, the epitome of innocence.

your eyes wandered over his sculpted chest, the remnants of a soft sheen of sweat from his workout making it shine in the sunlight pouring through the blinds. your heart stuttered in your chest—he looked like an angel. coupled with the way with his bottom lip was tucked under his front teeth and the wide, anticipating look in his eyes, fuck. you almost smiled how blessed you felt in that moment, to see him in such a raw, alluring position, before a jarring thought caused your lips to twitch back into a frown.

everyone else can see him, too.

your eyes hardened. maybe they can see him all big and strong, you thought, but they’ll never get to see him like this: submissive.

and so fucking sensitive.

within an instant, your lips were latched on the soft spot above his collarbone, causing him to whimper in pleasure. you continued to travel along his throat, slowly working your way to the other side of his neck and crossing back to nibble at his adam’s apple.

you unexpectedly pulled away, drawing a short whine from him, before repositioning yourself so that you were straddling his outstretched legs. slowly, starting from the hem of his shorts, you dragged your tongue between the ridges of his abs, moving up towards his pecs, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and feeling the muscles tense underneath.

“fuck,” he groaned. as your lips puckered around one of his peaked nipples, he uncontrollably jerked his hips up, inadvertently rubbing his sensitive cock between your legs. overwhelmed by the sensation, he moaned. “fuck.”

“you taste good,” you muttered, grazing your teeth over his other nipple. “just wanna taste you all the time. you’d let me, right?”

thoughts muddled by just how good everything felt, he nodded mindlessly. “i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

you paused. raising your head from his chest, you made eye contact with him, so intense he almost closed his eyes to shield himself from the blaze burning in your dilated pupils. “why’d you stop,” he begged, “i want more. feels so good and i wan’ mor-”

“say it again,” you demanded. “tell me that you’re mine.”

his eyes, glossed over and prickled with tears precariously close to falling, squeezed tightly as he spoke, unable to control the growing volume of his voice. “’m all yours. always. all yo- yours.” he gasped as you resumed your movements, pinching the sensitive skin around his v-line while fervently leaving sloppy kisses on his chest. 

“good boy.”

he keened at your praise. another light touch to his cock combined with the passage of your mouth had him trembling, and his breath hitched as he cried out in warning, tears now flowing freely over his flushed cheeks. “m’ gonna cum, ‘m gonna, gonna cum.”

“yeah?” you whispered, lips brushing against his strained abs. “go ahead then.”

“fuck!” he whined, blabbering as you sat back and watched in awe of the beauty before you, a big strong man like him reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess. “fuck, fuck—you always make me feel so, s-so go-od, fuck i love you.”

with soaked shorts and an exhausted sigh, he dropped his head back onto the plush comforter of the bed. you flattened your palms on his quivering body, reeling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. he panted, running his fingers through your hair before nudging your face to look at him, staring at you with an expression of pure bliss and adoration. he studied you for a bit before declaring with a soft smile, “you’re the best. so fuckin’ happy that i’m yours.”

driven by affection, he sat up and reached his arms around your waist, snuggling his chin over your shoulder and mashing your chests, yours clothed and his naked, together. “kou wait!” you shrieked. “you’re all sweaty again! it’s gross!”

he chuckled. as if you hadn’t been spoiling him by licking it up just a few minutes ago. “you’re right. i‘m probably sweating more now than i was after my workout.”

at that, your ears perked up. “well maybe you should do home workouts more often then,” you teased.

“you’re right,” he repeated with a grin, “maybe i should.” if it meant more mornings like these, he’d forego the gym in a heartbeat. 

that night, he canceled his gym membership. after all, he reasoned, it’s offseason anyway.

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