#BUT SHE GREW UP SO QUICKLY WHATS HAPPENING | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hrtnovas · 3 days ago

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NEW WLW BLOGG!! Now Imma help christen it by giving your 1st request!😂 You can definitely see from my profile pic that I am a huge Arlecchino simp.

Let's go with a childhood fem!reader who stayed with Arlecchino throughout her child to teen to adult years where Arlecchino becomes the 4th Harbinger after 'removing' Crucabena from play. Maybe they both developed feelings along the way? Or Arlecchino pines after reader but reader is very VERY oblivious despite the obvious sign from Arlecchino? Make this a smut!

🇧🇴🇺🇳🇩 🇧🇾 🇫🇦🇹🇪

FIRST REQUEST?? THIS IS A 10/10 YOU COOKED WITH THIS.

also my first fic

the nsfw part is separated from the sfw part because I gen feel like it's easier for me this way ୨ৎ

cw ; NSFW, men & mdni, dom!arlecchino x shy oblivious sub childhood!reader, rushed sesbian sex, fingering, but so much fluff, slight angst???, friends to lovers, reader is kind of shy and a little bit clueless . .

word count ; 1,834 words ♡

ʚɞ

both dividers by @cafekitsune . . ୨ৎ

(you two are young teens in this scene.)

Arlecchino.

The two of you grew up together, went through everything together.

You saw her white hair and faded black streaks in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon restless in thought. She stared and stared, as if something would happen, there were flowers in her hand. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering about so much.

"There's something about her… something I can't look away from." She wasn’t sure what it was about you. Arlecchino thought, her eyes shifting quickly towards you. For just a moment, her gaze softened before she looked away. She wasn’t sure what it was about you. The way you offered a piece of cake when you two were together. Or maybe it was the times you both tried so hard to hide behind calm eyes and a resting expressions. She thought to herself, looking briefly at you. You were beside her, holding a flower of your own, completely unaware of the way her gaze softened for just a moment. You were also getting quite lost in your thoughts. You were pretty much zoned out.

Arlecchino's fingers brushed against the petals of the flowers in her hand. She didn’t make eye contact, but her voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You’re staring." Her voice was low, calm, but it carried a feeling that made your heart jump. She turned her head around to face you properly.

You snapped out of your thoughts. You didn't realize you were staring at her. "I didn’t mean to.." you stammered, clutching the flower tighter in your hand. You moved closer, unsure if you were about to apologize again or say nothing.

"D-don’t you think the moon looks beautiful tonight?" you blurted, your voice stuttered out. The words felt a bit rushed, a attempt to change the conversation anywhere but to look her gaze. Your eyes shifted to the vase by the window, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your fingers tightened around the flower.

Arlecchino’s lips curled into a faint smile, her sharp eyes shining under the moonlight. "The moon?" she echoed, her tone unreadable. "You’ve been staring at me, and now you’re talking about the moon?"

Her fingers grazed the petals again, slower this time, as if lost in thought once again. Finally, her gaze shifted to the flowers in your hand. "You handpicked these yourself, didn’t you?" she asked, her voice quiet.

You glanced down at the flower, your grip tightening as a nervous laugh escaped you. "Y-yeah.. . I thought they looked nice." Her attention on the flowers made your face red, as if she could see right through you.

Her hand moved with purpose, brushing against yours as she plucked one of your flowers from your grasp. She moved closer to you.

"Stay still." she whispered. Her fingers brushed over your head as she swept a strand of hair out of your face, her touch was both gentle and firm. You held your breath ; unsure of what to do as she leaned in closer, the flower in her hand brushing against your skin.

She slid it into your hair with quick care, her hands grazing your cheek as she did so. The contact sent a small shiver down your spine, and your cheeks burned under her gaze.

"There." she said softly, though her voice was stoic, you could tell she was trying to be meaningful. And that made your heart race. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she moved back.

You fumbled for words, your voice barely above a whisper. “I.. thank you.” Your eyes darted away, too nervous to meet her gaze for long. But you could feel her watching you, her eyes lingering like a shadow under the moonlight.

And though, Arlecchino was now a figure of authority, her blank and stoic nature still a mask that still only few could see past. As time went on, you began to notice how she watched you, how her gaze lingered a little too long, the faint, almost unnoticeable smile that tugged at her lips when she caught you looking.

Yet, despite it all, you were oblivious.

To you, it was still the same Arlecchino, your childhood (best) friend, nothing more. You couldn't see the way she’d lean closer than necessary when speaking, the way her fingers brushed against yours with purpose or how her voice when she spoke to you, had softened, that made your heart beat as fast as ever.

You didn’t understand. You had no idea how close Arlecchino was to snapping, how close she was to revealing everything she’d kept hidden for years. She was. . patient, though. Waiting for you to see it, to understand the signs she was sending. But no matter how many times she leaned a little closer, brushed her fingers against yours, or let her gaze stare in a way that was anything but casual, you remained so damn oblivious.

She watched you laugh it off, the energy radiating from you as if the moment hadn’t never even shifted. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to read her or maybe you didn’t want to.

After all, why would someone like Arlecchino be interested in someone like you?

It was the way you avoided her gaze this time that finally broke her patience. You could feel it, that heavy, unfeeling, presence she carried, the kind that lingered even when she wasn’t looking directly at you.

Tonight, though, it felt different, impossible to ignore. You shifted in your seat, fingers fidgeting with your coffee in your lap and looking at your papers as your eyes darted anywhere but toward her.

You always did this, pulled away the moment things started to feel too intimate, too feeling, too real.

When her words carried more weight or were more gentle than usual, or her actions felt. . careful in a way you couldn’t quite ignore, you would shy away, brushing it off as nothing. It was easier to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight, Arlecchino wasn’t going to let you slip away.

The scrape of her chair against the floor made your heart race. Your head snapped up, eyes meeting hers as she stood, her figure shadowed by the light. Each step she took toward you was slow and proper. Her stilettos clicked softly against the floor.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn't speak.

She stopped just in front of you, her presence overwhelming as she leaned down slightly, close enough that you could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her lips pressed together in quiet wanting. Then her hand lifted, hand holding your chin, lifting your face upward.

"Look at me." she said softly.

Her voice was quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument. You froze, glancing away, but her grip was steady, not forceful, just firm. You had no choice but to meet her gaze.

And in her eyes, you saw something that made your breath hitch.

It wasn’t the cold expression she wore around others, or the confidence you had come to expect. This was different. Her expression was. . gentle, soft in a way you’d never seen before, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear for your heart.

"I’ve waited long enough." she said, her tone low, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. And god, was it hot. "You’re not blind, ma chérie. my love You know what I want."

Your heart pounded against your chest, your mind scrambling for something to say, but no words came. All you could do was sit there, wide eyed and trembling, your face becoming flushed.

Her fingers brushed gently along your hair. For a moment, her features softened, the blankness in her gaze melting into something warmer. "I’ve.. been waiting for you to see me." she said, her voice quieter now, but no less insistent. "Tell me you feel it too."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your thoughts were a blur, tangled with emotions you hadn’t let yourself come to until now.

And then she leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed her movements were hesitated, giving you just enough time to stop her if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and uncertain. When you didn’t pull away, her hesitation faded. The kiss deepened, careful but filled with everything she’d been holding back. One of her hands slid to you waist, holding you, while the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your cheeks burned, your breath caught in your throat, and your chest felt like it might burst. You could hear the frantic rhythm of your own heartbeat, and you were sure she could feel it too.

And for the first time, you realized ; maybe you hadn’t been as oblivious as you pretended to be.

nsfw utc

Arlecchino pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark, gazing into your own. "Are you sure you want us to do this?" she asked you, consent is key. ( and there is no other way it should be. ) She held onto your waist firmly.

You nodded, your words caught in your throat, but your actions spoke louder than anything you could say.

"I want to hear you say it. Say you want this, ma lumière." my light

You hesitated at first but, you knew you wanted this. You knew you wanted her.

"Arle.. I, I want you."

You could feel her fingers sliding inside you, you were so tight, so tense. You felt a bit nervous and were holding onto her just as she was holding onto you.

"Relax yourself. . your so tense." She mumbled. She had you on her waist, one of her hands gripping your waist tight and firm as if you were going to run away from her, her breath touching your neck, leaving love bites all over, her fingers soaked from how wet you were. Her fingers were pumping in and out of you, making you squirm and moan , it made you feel so damn filled up with every time they went inside of you.

"S-so m-much... -" "You can take it, it's alright, relax." She said, you were squeezing around her, begging to be fucked into. And the way she was fucking you? You loved it. The way your arms were wrapped around her neck, your lips releasing sweet noises, and the way Arlecchino was stretching your pussy open with her fingers.

"Are you enjoying yourself? Feeling good..?" She said, feeling your tight walls clench her fingers, you couldn't focus on anything else, just the fact she was making you feel so good.

"O-oh Arle.. mm- I'm going to . .- ! " "That's it dove. Let yourself go for me, go on."

"You're staring, dove. Something on my face..?" She asked you, you were panting for air, trying to calm down from your high.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

ugh i need this woman

#i love her #soft arle i need #arlechinno x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin impact #arlecchino #x reader #fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #hrtsnovas

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perfectsunlight · 3 days ago

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[34] DANDELION

warnings: LOTS of angst, crying, minor argument

FLASHBACK

ivory stared at the phone in her hands, the screen glowing brightly in the dim light of her room. her fingers hovered over the screen, tapping out her mother’s name for the fifth time in a row. but the call went straight to voicemail again.

her chest tightened. she dialed again.

beep. beep. beep.

the sound of the ringing tone mocked her, loud and persistent, but to her, it felt like the world was falling apart with each unanswered call. her thumb pressed down on the redial button like it was her only lifeline. come on, mom, she thought desperately, pick up. please pick up.

jennie had been about to leave for a schedule overseas. it wasn’t the first time, but this time, ivory couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. she’d tried to keep things light before her mom left, but the conversation had taken a sharp turn into something darker. something ugly.

“ivory, you have no idea what it’s like,” the idol had said, her voice heavy with exhaustion and frustration. “you don’t see it, you don’t understand. i can’t keep doing this, not with you acting like this every time i leave. i have a life, i have responsibilities.”

“i don’t want to hear that. i don’t want to hear about your ‘responsibilities’ or your life!” thirteen year old ivory had shouted, her voice cracking with frustration. “i’m the one left here, alone. i’m the one who’s always left behind!”

“i’m not abandoning you, ivory,” jennie had tried to reason, but ivory wasn’t listening. “i’m doing this for you! i—”

“i don’t need you to do anything for me!”

the words had come out before she even realized it. the raw emotion, the years of frustration, had poured out in that moment. ivory knew she really should’ve stopped.

but she didn’t.

“i just need you to be here! you’re always gone. always. and when you’re here, you’re never really here. just... gone. you don’t even see me anymore!” the young teen barked, cat-like eyes narrowing in accusation and pure rage.

jennie’s face twisted, hurt flashing through her features, but she didn’t say anything more. she’d grabbed her things, quickly, and with a cold, sharp glance, she’d left the house. she didn’t say goodbye. there was no hug, no comforting touch.

nothing. nothing at all.

ivory had stood there for hours after that, in the silence that followed, feeling the weight of her words, and realizing how much she hated how empty the house felt when her mother was gone. that emptiness was suffocating. but more than that, the silence between them—created by that fight—was more painful than she could bear. it was like she was waiting for something to break. something to crack open and release all the emotions they both hadn’t said. but none of it had come.

and now she couldn’t reach her.

she dialed again.

beep. beep. beep.

her vision blurred as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. panic was clawing at her chest. why isn’t she picking up? the flight from seoul to tokyo was only two and a half hours. so why wasn’t her mother answering her? she felt her heart race as her mind ran wild. is she okay? where is she? why is she doing this?or even worse—did her mother hate her now?

the silence in the house grew louder as the seconds dragged on. it was suffocating. her breathing grew shallow, fast. it was like the weight of the world was pressing down on her, and she couldn’t escape it.

“mom, please pick up. please, please pick up.” her voice cracked as she whispered into the phone, but there was no answer.

dial. redial. dial. redial.

her stomach twisted painfully as her mind began to spiral. was something wrong? had something happened to her? was jennie hurt? was she in trouble? the thoughts raced through her like a tidal wave, and no matter how much she told herself she was being paranoid, the fear gripped her harder and harder.

her mom had always been there for her. always been the strong one. but now, everything felt wrong. the fight, the silence; it was like the last thread of their bond had snapped.

she grabbed her jacket, ran out of the room, and down the hallway, the echo of her steps hollow in the silence of the house. there was a heavy sense of dread hanging in the air, thick like fog, and ivory knew she couldn’t just sit around waiting anymore. she needed answers.

she called again.

beep. beep. beep.

the voicemail again.

her breath hitched. she was losing control. this panic wasn’t like the ones she had before. this was different. this was the kind of panic that made someone physically ill.that sinking feeling in your stomach, like the world is shifting beneath your feet, and you can’t do a damn thing to stop it.

she dialed another number, her hands shaking so badly she almost couldn’t hold the phone steady. her fingers barely made contact with the keys.

“please pick up. mommy, please,” she panicked desperately into the phone. the phone kept ringing. over and over again. each unanswered call felt like another weight added to her chest, making it harder to breathe. her fingers trembled as she pressed the redial button, not even realizing how many times she had done it. her thoughts spiraled faster than she could catch them.

she paced back and forth in the hallway, the sound of her sneakers hitting the cold floor echoing in the otherwise silent house. every few seconds, she’d glance at the phone in her hand, her thumb hovering over the screen, desperate for some sign, some answer.

her throat felt tight, constricting with each passing moment. she could feel the panic building in her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. come on, come on...

the screen lit up again. another voicemail. another unanswered call.

her head began to spin. she could hear her own thoughts screaming in her ears.

it was the worst feeling. that helpless, sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. it wasn’t even about the fight anymore. it wasn’t about the harsh words or the things they said to each other before she left.

i need you, mom.

the phone rang again.

beep. beep. beep.

her eyes blurred with tears as she let the phone drop to her side, her body shaking with silent sobs. she couldn’t hold it in anymore. her face crumpled as she slid down the wall, her back resting against the cold surface. the tears streamed freely, the fear flooding every inch of her being. she tried to breathe, to calm down, but the more she thought about it, the worse it got.

the phone remained still on the floor next to her, the screen dimming and lighting up with each new call she tried to make, but there was still no answer. ivory’s breath was shallow, her body wracked with the kind of anxiety that felt unbearable. the silence in the house felt like it was closing in on her, and she was suffocating under the weight of her fear and her anger. her mind kept racing, the dread gnawing at her from the inside out.

but jennie didn’t call back.

she didn’t look at the phone.

hours passed. ivory stayed in the hallway, her mind a blur of irrational thoughts, spiraling down the darker paths of her imagination. she couldn’t sleep. every time she tried to close her eyes, the image of her mother’s unreturned calls haunted her, the phone screen flashing back into her vision with each failed attempt.

the clock ticked on, relentlessly.

by the time the house was draped in the thick quiet of night, ivory was numb. her heart ached. her mind was frazzled with exhaustion, but the sense of betrayal, of being abandoned, still twisted inside her chest.

it wasn’t until nearly midnight when jennie’s name finally flashed on the phone screen.

ivory’s hand shot out before she could stop herself, her heart leaping into her throat. her eyes were red from the tears she had cried. she had stopped counting the calls long ago. she thought it would be different this time.

but when she swiped to answer, all she could do was ramble. “i’m sorry!” ivory choked out immediately, cutting her mother off before she could say anything. "i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean what i said earlier, mom, i swear, i didn’t mean it, i just...i was so scared, okay? i thought something happened to you. i thought...i thought you hated me, and you were never gonna come back and i—”

the words tumbled out in a rushed, disjointed mess. her throat burned with every sob that racked her body.

"i was calling, and calling, and calling, and you didn’t answer. you didn’t pick up, and i thought—i thought maybe you were gone," jane was shaking again now, the phone pressed to her ear but her entire body was trembling uncontrollably.

the tears came harder, choking her. she couldn’t stop herself. the fear was overwhelming. “i—i thought you weren’t coming back, and i don’t know what i would do without you, mom. please, don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone.”

and then the young girl started sobbing. she couldn’t stop it, she didn’t care if jennie could hear her fall apart; she didn’t care about anything except for the voice on the other end of the line. the voice she needed to hear more than anything.

“i’m so sorry,” jane repeated between hiccuping sobs. “i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean any of it. please don’t leave me, mom. i don’t know what i’d do without you. i can’t lose you... i just—i need you.”

for a moment, there was nothing but silence on the line, and for that second, ivory thought she was imagining it all—the fear, the isolation, the helplessness.

then jennie’s voice, raw and cracked, broke through the quiet. “valentine, i’m here. i’m here, okay?”

but ivory could barely hear it over the sound of her own crying. “no, you don’t understand, i was so scared. i thought you weren’t coming back. i thought you hated me because of what happened. i—”

“no,” jennie interrupted, her voice firm and honest. “no, no, baby. i don’t hate you. i could never hate you. i was just... i was so busy, and i didn’t look at my phone. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you.”

but ivory couldn’t stop crying. her hands were shaking as she tried to calm herself, but every breath felt like it was being ripped from her chest.

“i didn’t want to hurt you, mom,” ivory cried, pressing the phone to her ear tighter, desperate for reassurance. “i didn’t want you to leave, i swear i didn’t.”

her mother’s voice softened more, but it was still thick with emotion. “i wasn’t going anywhere. don’t cry, please.” the idol pleaded gently, trying her best to soothe the only child she had.

jane squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe through the overwhelming emotion. the flood of fear and guilt began to calm, but it was still so hard to let go of the feeling that jennie might leave her for real this time. that the fight they had would end everything.

“i’m not going anywhere, ivory. i promise. and you’re not going anywhere either, right?”

the young girl shook her head as she answered, even though her mother couldn’t see her. “no. i don’t wanna go anywhere away from you.”

jennie’s voice was a soft, calming presence in the darkness, keeping the panic at bay as her daughter’s sobs began to taper off. after a moment of quiet, jennie spoke again, this time with a gentle authority that only a mother could have.

"okay, go get changed, baby. you’ve gotta get ready for bed, alright?" she said, her tone tender but firm. "no more tears, promise?"

ivory sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she nodded, even though jennie couldn’t see.

“okay.” the young girl relented without any fight or argument. jennie could hear the small shuffle of ivory’s feet on the floor, and she felt a wave of comfort knowing her daughter was listening. she stayed on the line, her voice soft, keeping her close even through the distance.

"now, go brush your teeth, okay?" jennie added, a little smile on her face, even though ivory couldn’t see it. "we don’t want you waking up with a sore mouth from all those tears."

ivory didn’t say anything at first, but jennie could hear her humming a quiet, "mhm," followed by the sound of her footsteps retreating.

jennie listened as the soft rustle of her daughter getting changed filled the silence. she could hear the faint sound of the bathroom door opening and the tap running as ivory brushed her teeth. she waited for the sound of the toothpaste and toothbrush before speaking again, her voice soft, like a lullaby meant to soothe away the remnants of the day’s worry.

“you’re doing great, valentine,” jennie said, a soft but proud smile on her face. "now, go climb into bed. you know where to go."

there was a brief pause before jane’s quiet voice came through again, barely audible, but it made jennie’s heart swell.

"i’m gonna sleep in your old room tonight," she said, her voice small, as though the weight of the past had settled in, and she needed that familiar comfort.

the idol smiled at the thought. it had been years since she’d lived in that house, but she knew exactly what ivory meant. she knew how much the feeling of her old room still brought a sense of closeness, a piece of home that ivory still clung to.

“okay, baby. i know you miss me,” jennie said softly, her voice tender. "but you’re safe there. i’ll always be here, right here, even if you’re not in my room."

ivory was quiet for a moment, but then she whispered, “i know. i just like sleeping in here. it feels like you’re still here.”

jennie’s heart clenched at that, but she held it together. she could imagine her daughter lying in her old bed, surrounded by memories of when things were simpler, before the distance of jennie’s work had grown so wide.

“goodnight, valentine,” jennie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? i’m right here."

ivory’s voice came through again, small but comforting. “okay, mommy. i love you.”

jennie’s voice softened even further. “i love you more, jane.”

and with that, the room grew quiet except for the gentle hum of the phone line, the sound of ivory settling into her bed, the soft rustle of the sheets, and the steady rhythm of her breathing as she finally let the exhaustion of the day lull her to sleep. and jennie stayed on the line, her heart full of love, until she was sure her daughter had drifted off, feeling safe in the quiet night.

PRESENT DAY

the rain fell harder, hammering the windows of the car as jennie slammed her phone down onto the passenger seat. another dead end. another wasted attempt. she wiped a hand over her face, trying to hold back the wave of panic threatening to swallow her whole. her daughter—her baby girl—was somewhere out there, and jennie had no idea where.

“alright,” lisa said from the backseat, her voice taut with frustration against the backdrop of the ambiance outside. “that’s, what, the ninth hotel? no one’s seen her. we need to figure this out, fast.”

jennie nodded, her eyes never leaving the road as the car made its way through the wet streets. lisa and rosie in the back, with jisoo in the passenger seat. each of them just as invested, each of them just as desperate.

even though they hadn’t met their niece fully, not fully properly at least, they still wanted to help.

“try calling the one down by the docks,” jennie said, her voice hoarse, raw. “maybe she’s trying to blend in. get a different vibe.” she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles white from the tension.

rosé nodded, grabbing her phone, already dialing the next hotel. she wasn’t sure how many more calls they could make before exhaustion hit them all like a truck.

“i can’t believe she would do this,” jisoo murmured, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror as she stared out the back window. “she’s so young. and in all the wrong places.”

“we’re gonna find her,” jennie’s voice cracked with determination, her dark irises narrowing as she spoke. “i don’t care if i have to pay either. she can’t hide forever.”

hours slipped by. call after call. hotel after hotel. they were hitting nothing but silence, confusion, or polite but firm refusals. jennie’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, the steady grind of desperation beginning to eat at her mind. she could hear the others starting to lose hope as well. the streets blurred together, the city sinking into a haze of neon lights and reflection.

“we can’t keep going in circles,” rosé muttered, her voice sharp, almost defeated. “there’s nothing. not now at least.”

jennie shot her a look, one of warning, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. they were all on edge.

she took a deep breath, her mind racing. she couldn’t think about the worst-case scenarios. not yet. not until she had her.

at this point, it didn’t matter what city they were in, what district they were calling. jennie was calling the hotels at random. one by one. they’d all lost their sense of direction, driven by nothing but the instinct to keep searching.

“look, it’s late. and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover again in the morning. she’s safe enough to make a statement so that means she’s okay, alright? let’s just call it a night and try again in the morning.” lisa reasoned gently.

jennie felt the weight of those words like a brick settling in her chest. she wasn’t sure what was worse—the idea of losing her daughter or the thought of giving up, even for just one night. but she knew she couldn’t keep going in circles. she had to rest. they all did.

“yeah,” jennie muttered, barely audible. she slowed the car, pulling up to the next intersection, her mind still buzzing with the need to find her. “okay. i’ll take you back to your places first.”

the others nodded in agreement, and soon they were driving through the quiet streets of seoul, heading toward their separate homes. the tension was thick in the air, no one speaking. no one needed to. they were all too exhausted to talk, too emotionally drained to force any kind of conversation. the silence felt like a void, a cavernous emptiness that consumed the car, but jennie couldn’t even find the strength to acknowledge it.

pulling up to rosé’s apartment first, jennie stared at the building for a long moment, parked just across the street. rosé gave her a small smile, tired and strained, before slipping out of the car. no words. just a wave, then she disappeared into the lobby.

next, she dropped lisa off. lisa hesitated, pausing before getting out of the car. her usual sharp energy had dimmed, replaced by the weight of the situation. her expression said it all—she was just as broken inside as jennie was. but she didn’t say anything. she just gave a small nod and slipped out of the car, vanishing into the night.

jisoo was last. she looked over at jennie, her face pale, eyes red from the stress of the search. “call me if you need anything,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

jennie gave a curt nod, but didn’t speak. she simply watched as jisoo made her way inside, all too familiar with the way this night had drained them. she needed to be alone. she needed to think.

alone at last, jennie pulled away from the curb and drove back to her own house. her body felt like it was moving on autopilot, her mind still spinning with what-ifs, with thoughts of her daughter. the drive felt longer than it ever had before. every street seemed to stretch endlessly, but jennie couldn’t bring herself to care.

when she finally pulled into her driveway, she parked the car and sat for a moment in the quiet of the garage. she didn’t want to go inside. the house felt empty without ivory’s laughter filling the air. it felt foreign to her, like the walls were closing in, reminding her of the distance between them.

but she had to. she had no choice.

jennie grabbed her bag, stepping out of the car and into the cold night air. she didn’t bother to lock the door. her mind was elsewhere. she just needed to shower. to feel some semblance of control, even if it was just for a few minutes.

the house was still too quiet as she made her way to the bathroom. she turned on the shower, the sound of the water pouring over her providing some kind of comfort. she didn’t care that her hair was damp by the time she was done. she barely even felt the towel around her waist as she rushed to get dressed.

there was no time for food. she didn’t feel hungry, only nauseous from the sickening worry that sat heavily in her stomach. she crawled into bed, curling up under the blankets, the cool sheets doing little to ease the anxiety thrumming through her.

the bed felt too big without ivory. too empty.

with a deep sigh, jennie pulled the covers up to her chin, half of her hair still damp from the shower, the other half tangled in messy strands around her face. her mind wouldn’t stop, the guilt, the fear, the anxiety eating at her. but she couldn’t sleep. not yet.

where was she? was she safe? jennie couldn't focus, couldn't think about anything other than the woman she hadn’t heard from in days. she had to find her.

jennie grabbed her phone from the nightstand, unlocking it with shaky hands. her fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand thoughts running through her mind as she tried to think of any hotel she hadn’t called yet. she couldn't waste any more time. she couldn’t afford to let it go. she had to make sure jane was okay.

her thumb hovered over the list of hotel names as her eyes scanned each one, searching for something that felt like it might be a lead. something, anything, that might give her an answer. it was late—too late—and she was tired, but she couldn’t give up. she couldn’t.

finally, her finger stopped on one that seemed as far out as possible—a small, run-down hotel on the outskirts of seoul. hotel dandelion. it was the last place she’d want to stay, but it might be the one she hadn't thought to call yet. she didn’t think twice. she clicked the number without hesitation, the urgency in her gut overwhelming.

the phone rang three times before someone finally picked up.

“hello, hotel dandelion, how can i assist you?” the voice was gruff, old. it sounded like the person on the other end had seen more than their fair share of strange calls.

jennie didn't waste time, her voice tight with a combination of fear and desperation. “hi. uh, i’m looking for a jane kim,” she said quickly. “do you have anyone with that name checked in recently?”

there was a long pause. too long. jennie’s heart pounded louder in her ears as she held her breath.

the man on the other end of the line let out a slow exhale, as if considering something carefully before responding. "i’m afraid i don’t have a jane kim," he said, his voice slow, methodical, almost too calm. "i’m sorry, ma’am."

jennie felt a sharp stab of disappointment. her grip on the phone tightened, but she tried not to let the frustration show in her voice. "are you sure? this is really important. i need to find her," jennie pressed, her tone a little more insistent, a little more urgent.

the man didn’t respond right away. jennie could hear him shuffling something in the background before he spoke again.

"i’m afraid there’s no jane kim here," he repeated, his voice firm, but not unkind. "maybe you’ve got the wrong place."

jennie’s mind raced. the tight knot of fear in her chest tightened further, the sense of helplessness growing by the second. she couldn’t afford to make mistakes. she had to be sure.

but just as soon as she went to hang up, his voice cut through again. “i do have a ruby jane here though. recent check in, too.”

jennie froze, her entire body going still as if she’d been struck by lightning. her heart skipped a beat. and a small sad smile pulled on the corners of her mouth.

it’s her.

“okay thank you. i’ll be there shortly.” jennie replied quickly. without another thought, jennie slammed the phone down, her breath quickening as she leapt out of bed. she had no time to waste. there was no more hesitation. she didn’t care about anything else.

she grabbed her slippers, threw on her jacket, and sprinted toward the door, the sound of her heartbeat thumping in her ears.

she had to get to that hotel. and she had to get there now.

i’m coming, valentine. i promise.

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis @phamianaz

CLOSED.

#jennie kim #blackpink #lesserafim #angst #kpop angst #original series #jisoo kim #roseanne park #lalisa manoban #kim chaewon #ivory #perfectsunlight

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bestalbertcamuslover · 2 days ago

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Platinum Blonde

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: RB! Sebastian Vettel x Engineer! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Coming back to work after the break wasn’t the most thrilling experience. Sure, she loved her job, but there was something about vacation that always seemed sweeter—maybe just a little more time off would’ve been nice. However, any lingering post-vacation blues vanished the moment she walked into the paddock and saw that sight.

Sebastian Vettel, rocking platinum blonde hair.

She blinked, doing a double take as if her eyes were playing tricks on her. That hair color—so bold, so unexpected—had an oddly magnetic effect on her. She always thought he was good-looking and undeniably charming, but somehow, the shock of bright blonde only amplified it. She found herself stealing glances, fighting the urge to stare, wondering how such a simple change could leave her feeling so off-balance.

She threw herself into her work, as focused as ever, yet every break felt like a betrayal of her resolve. Her eyes would inevitably wander, seeking him out across the garage or wherever he happened to be. What’s wrong with me? she wondered, internally chastising herself as her thoughts began to drift into muddier, more unprofessional territories.

The question that kept looping in her mind—the one that embarrassed her more than anything—was whether he noticed. Did he catch her staring? Did he notice how her words stumbled slightly whenever he walked by? That ridiculous hair color wasn’t helping either. It only made him more distracting, more present.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the idea, but deep down, the thought made her heart race. What if he knew? What if he could see right through her calm façade? The possibility both terrified and thrilled her.

She had just managed to lose herself in her clipboard and notes when the shadow fell over her desk. She looked up, and there he was. The hair was just as bright under the sunlight as it had been in the garage, and the smirk on his face told her that he had caught her off guard.

“Busy as ever, huh?” Sebastian said, his voice warm and laced with playful curiosity.

She blinked, scrambling to gather her composure. “Yeah, you know, making sure everything’s perfect,” she replied, gesturing to the papers in front of her like they were the most important thing in the world.

His smirk deepened. “That’s good. Though I have to say, you seem... distracted today.”

Her stomach flipped. Did he know? Did he actually notice the way she’d been stealing glances all day? “Distracted? No, I’m just focused,” she said quickly, forcing a tight smile.

“Focused,” he repeated, his tone teasing, as if he didn’t buy it for a second. He leaned slightly closer, resting a hand on the edge of her desk. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me every chance you get?”

Her cheeks burned instantly, and she fumbled for a response, caught completely off guard by his boldness. “I wasn’t staring” she stated, but even to her, the denial sounded unconvincing.

His grin grew wider, and he tilted his head, studying her with those sharp, knowing eyes. “No? Must’ve been my imagination, then,” he said lightly, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe her for a second.

She opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound like an admission. He let her squirm for a moment before stepping back, giving her space to breathe.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said, his voice softer now, though there was still a mischievous glint in his eye. “But if you do have any thoughts on the hair, feel free to share.”

She hesitated, caught between embarrassment and the undeniable pull of his easy charm. Finally, she blurted out, “It’s… bold.”

Sebastian chuckled, running a hand through his platinum locks. “Bold, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She managed a small laugh, finally starting to relax. “It’s definitely… eye-catching.”

“Good to know,” he said, giving her a wink before straightening up. “Well, don’t work too hard, okay? I’d hate to think I’m the one distracting you.”

Before she could respond, he walked away, leaving her with her heart racing and her thoughts spinning. That grin, that hair—it was going to be a very long weekend.

And it was, yet, a great weekend for the team as Sebastian won the race with a large gap behind him. The exhilaration from wins was always strong, and gosh, her stomach felt like a nest of butterflies after they had all drunk a few Red Bulls.

The team’s celebration was in full swing. Music thumped, champagne flowed freely, and laughter filled the air. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of her heart pounding for reasons beyond the race. It wasn’t the thrill of the victory—it was the sight of Sebastian, his platinum hair slightly mussed, his grin wide as he soaked up the joy of the moment. He was magnetic, more so than usual, and it was driving her mad.

After a while, she needed a break from the noise and slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the garage to find some peace. She found herself close to Sebastian’s driver’s room, the door slightly ajar. Peeking in, she saw him sitting on the couch, his race suit peeled down to his waist, a bottle of water in hand. He looked up and saw her hovering in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than it had been all night. “Hiding from the party?”

She smiled sheepishly and stepped inside. “Something like that. Needed some air.”

He gestured to the spot beside him. “Come in. I promise not to celebrate too loudly.”

She hesitated for a moment before taking the seat, the quiet hum of the garage a stark contrast to the chaos outside. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and then he spoke again, his tone teasing. “So, was it the hair? Did it bring me luck?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, I think it was the driver.”

“Good answer,” he said, leaning back against the couch, his gaze lingering on her. “You seemed pretty excited out there. Nice to see you loosen up.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “It’s hard not to when the team does so well.”

He nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave her. “And yet, you still seem a little... distracted.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I could say the same about you,” she countered, trying to deflect.

He smirked. “Touché. But let’s not pretend we don’t both know what’s going on here.”

Her stomach flipped at his words, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to breathe. “Seb, I—”

Before she could finish, he leaned in, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed hers softly, testing, giving her every chance to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, and his grin was wider than she’d ever seen. “Guess that’s one way to celebrate,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, her nerves melting into something warmer. “Don’t get used to it,” she joked, though the look in her eyes said otherwise.

“Oh, I will,” he replied, his tone full of playful confidence. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Before she could fire back a response, he leaned in, catching her off guard as his lips pressed against hers. It was soft at first, testing the waters, but when she didn’t pull away—when she leaned into him instead—it deepened. Her hands instinctively reached up, fingers brushing through his hair. That hair.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, he raised an eyebrow, his playful grin returning. “So... do you hate it?”

“Hate it?” she repeated, laughing softly as she ran her fingers through the strands again, this time with purpose. “Seb, I loved it the second I saw it. It’s infuriating how much it affects me.”

His grin widened, clearly pleased. “Infuriating, huh? I can live with that.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no denying the warmth in her gaze. “I mean, it’s obnoxiously bold and completely unnecessary, but somehow... it works.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “So, you’re saying the platinum blonde was a good decision?”

She sighed dramatically, though the way her hands stayed tangled in his hair betrayed her. “I’m saying it’s... distracting. You walk into a room, and I forget how to form coherent sentences.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound low and warm as his hands rested on her waist. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind next time I need to get your attention.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, though her smile said otherwise.

“And you’re still holding onto my hair,” he pointed out with a wink.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, pulling him back in for another kiss, this one bolder, as if to prove a point.

He didn’t argue, and instead leaned into the kiss, his hands finding her waist.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I really love platinum blonde hair, is such a turn on tbh

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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forgotten-lumis · 3 days ago

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Omg the chicken thing reminds me of when I was a kid, living out in some middle of nowhere Arkansas country town.

Basically, my Elementary school decided it would be a good idea to hatch chickens as a class project to learn about the stages of development for a chicken embryo. You know, for science. So they brought in maybe 20 or so eggs and an incubator, and we documented each stage of setting it up, and what was going on inside the eggs on each day, etc.

When the eggs finally all hatched- something we watched very excitedly, a bunch of 3rd graders, all huddled around this incubator- they sent out papers asking for parents to sign so they could bring home the chickens to live on their farms and the land they already owned. Since it was a middle of the nowhere Arkansas country town, and so many of the kids in my school owned a farm.

Anyways- of course 9 year old me wanted to be a part of this, and I begged my mom to sign the paper so I could bring home one of the chickens I had so lovingly helped to raise.

My aunt was moving out of our shared house at that time. (my mom, brother, grandparents, uncle, aunt and her bf, as well as two of my cousins were all living together in this giant, eternally work in progress house that by grandfather had been building his entire life. The walls were eternally plagued by aggressive wasps and flying squirrels, so that was fun.) My aunt was the one who had taken care of all the animals on our property, so she left us instructions on how to take care the chick, as well as a heat lamp and feeder, etc. And she soon left, taking all her animals with her.

Anyways, me and my mom got the chick, and took care of it. It was very sad and lonely though for the first couple of days (my aunt sent over one of her own chicks to be constant companionship for it quickly, since chickens aren’t supposed to be alone. This definitely helped, and it stopped screaming loudly every time I left its sight for 20 seconds.) After a while, it grew enough to leave the pen in our room and go outside. I was able to bring it out every day, and it would follow me around. I even started trying to teach it, showing it how to dig for bugs in the grass, and pretending to peck at the ground, which it did eventually learn to do.

Eventually, my mom decided to just send it to live with my aunt and the rest of her birds, because this was very overly complicated for no reason and it was pooping everywhere. I would go and visit it sometimes still though, as my aunt lived close. Also I named it Butter, because it was yellow. There isn’t really a moral to this story, but it’s definitely something that happened, and now I have it archived in great detail on the internet forever so… hey random person if you’re reading this lol, I hope it was atleast mildly entertaining.

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quilly72 · 2 days ago

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Tessa took the vial as she precariously dropped the final ingredients into the mixture. Quickly sealing the tube off as she let it simmer down. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the runny blue liquid settle into the bottom of the tube. Finally putting her at ease that it wouldn't combust on top of her. Just as she hung her labcoats on the wall her coworker, Nancy, busted through the door.

"did you finish it."

"wha.. what are you talking about.?"

"the serum did you finish the serum yet."

Tessa shut down as she saw Nancy start to make her way to the solution and jotting down notes as she grew more flustered.

She didn't even ask before Nancy answered her questions.

"they're shutting us down. We just lost all our funding if we can't convince them to take us back up in the next 15 minutes we'll lose everything"

Nancy grabbed the vial as Tessa stopped her. "What are you doing it's not stable yet."

Nancy grew frustrated as her friend stopped her. "We need to move to a human trial now so we can show results. This is years of testing Tessa we can't just let it go down the drain. "

Tessa gulped. She knew Nancy was right but she also knew there was no way the solution was ready for humans yet. They had barely even seen what it would do to simpler organic matter let alone a fully grown human.

Tessa tried to calm her down as she grabbed the vial from Nancy. Noting that it was already bubbling and destabilizing the more it moved. "I understand just let me have it and we will figure it out maybe another company will pick us up but for now we put this back before it destabilizes and spontaneously combus....

The glass shattered In her hand as the liquid flared out onto her chest and torso. Tessa gasped as it seeped into her clothes and ran down her body. The liquid burning and Inflamming at her skin as she tried to brush it off. "It burns get it off get it off"

Tessa looked around trying to find something to help her. She started making a break for the shower as Nancy grabbed her arm. "What are you doing I'm gonna be saturated any second now. " Tessa tugged and pulled but Nancy refused to let go. An evil presence stuck behind her eyes.

"I'm sorry tess we really need a human volunteer."

She stopped her from turning the shower on as the liquid seeped into her body. The mixture disappears as she felt it seep further in. Mixing into her skin her muscles and her bones.

"Nancy please let me gooo. Nancy please."

Tessa winced as she felt her body tense up. Her chest burned and seared as she felt her lungs start to struggle against the weight of her chest.

Tessa grimaced as the pain continued to flow across her body. Digging deeper and deeper into her as she leaned against the wall. Her body strained and tensed as she struggled for breath. She felt her chest heaving forward as she craned her neck forward to see it happening. Nancy gasped as they both realized it was taking control. Her boobs bulging forward.

Tessa gritted her teeth as her cardigan constrained her bust. Her boobs flowed over the edges as a button popped off. She yelped as she felt her boobs bulge forward as more space was awarded to them. Another button already shaking as it popped off into the floor.

Tessa regained her breath as she felt her body cool down. Her skin stopped stretching and her body went to ease as she surveyed her new assets. "They're... Huge" she muttered as she grabbed her cardigan smiling. Their project was saved. All she had to do was march up to the top floor and show them her puppies and she would surely get her budget back one way or another

Nancy cheered as she stared at her coworker. "We did it we actually."

She was cut off as Tessa stared daggers into her soul. "I'm not done with you yet if anything happens I blame. Yo..."

Tessa stopped as she grunted. Her body sent a blast of heat across her skin. Her muscles ached and throbbed as she felt her bones crunch up against each other. "Shiii"

Her tits were first to respond. Breaking her cardigan in half as they poured forward. Her bra snapping off I the blink of an eye as she moved her hands to cover herself. Next her feet and legs started to raise. Her sandals snapping off her feet as her legs pressed her higher-up. Tessa waived an arm for support as her cardigan wrapped around her back. Starting to tear up her spine as it ran out of room. "Nancy... FIX THIS"

She screamed as she continued to press upwards. Her cardigan snapped off as she felt her skirt press into her hips. Her butt already dragging out past the fabric. Tessa looked down at Nancy as she realized just how short she was now. Her growth speeding up as Nancy raced to make some sort of reversal agent.

Tessa winced as her panties and skirt fell to the floor. Covering with a hand as Nancy tried not to distract herself.

Tessa felt her ass swell backwards as her head raced upwards. Eagerly eating up every inch of height it was given. "You might wanna hurry UP." SHE yelped as her head bumped the ceiling. Tessa lowered herself in the shrinking room as she fell to a crouch. Then to her knees. Her head still pressing upwards as her body filled the room.

Tessa winced as she felt her head press into the roof again. Bending her neck as she watched Nancy struggle to get anything up and running. "Nancy I think... It's time... To RUN"

Tessa gasped in air as she fell forward. Her tits slamming into Nancy and shoving her to the floor. She struggled underneath Tessa's growing body as she tried to crawl her way out. Her legs being suffocated by her swelling bust. "I'm stuck"

Tessa tried to relieve the pressure but her body grew too fast for any meaningful change to happen . Every inch she moved back was another foot her chest swelled forward. Her feet now planted against the wall as her legs disappeared under her ass. Her head pressed up into the roof as she heard the ceiling crackle.

"STOP GROWING" NANCY screamed

Tessa didn't even manage a reply before her cleavage pressed over the last of Nancys body. Her tits samshed up to her own neck as she felt her back bend the roof upwards

"Fuck Fuck FUUUCK"

The ceiling caved in as she raced into it. Her tits were already filling half the room as a couple of scientists stood gawfing at her giant bust. Her head straining against the roof as she tried to cover herself. It wasn't long before she was up to the next floor. Then the next and the next. Her body finally bursting out of the walls as the building croaked and fell around her. Herfeet stretched out into the street as her butt flattened the foundation. Her body racing across buildings and streets as she continued to ascend.

Tessa stopped trying to save anyone only after a few seconds. Her huge body caused more destruction than she could ever account for. Her body slowly swelled over building after building. Her head above the horizon as people watched her slowly encompass them all. It wasn't till the entire city shrunk under her ass that she even started to slow down. Finally settling after she covered what had to be at least the entire county.

#giantess growth #gtsgrowth #giantess

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ravensuperr · 2 days ago

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Gotham Baby Switch Mystery part 6

A soft click echoed through the chamber.

Lights flared, the machine let out a deafening whir, and the circuitry blazed with an unearthly green light.

Infinite Realms

Many ghosts were going about their day, hanging out with friends, attending concerts, or watching movies—engaging in their usual routines. Inside Ember McLain’s realm, she was relaxing with Kitty and Johnny 13 when a loud, booming sound suddenly reverberated through the Infinite Realms.

“What’s that sound?” Kitty asked, her voice tinged with unease.

The distant echoes of raised voices and clashes grew louder, accompanied by ghostly shouts as others argued, telling each other to quiet down.

Ember leaned forward, her expression serious. “Maybe it’s a fight between two ancient ghosts. You know how their battles can shake the entire realm.”

Before anyone could respond, an earsplitting scream cut through the air, followed by a deep rumbling that seemed to rattle the very essence of the realm itself. The group froze in place, eyes wide as they tried to make sense of the chaos.

“What’s going on?” Ember demanded, panic creeping into her voice. “What’s happening to the realm? Is this some kind of attack?”

Johnny 13 shook his head grimly. “No way. Even if two ancient ghosts were fighting, it wouldn’t cause this much commotion—unless...” He trailed off, his tone growing hesitant. “Unless all of them are fighting each other at the same time. Or… they’re all fighting someone together.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. Everyone in the room exchanged worried glances. They weren’t part of the Infinite Realms as long as some other ghosts had been, but every ghost knew the stories. At some point in their afterlives, they had all heard about The Ghost King.

And in their hearts, they prayed this wasn’t what they feared most—that HE wasn’t the cause of it all.

The three quickly left Ember’s realm, heading toward the commotion. What they saw outside stunned them—a massive gathering of ghosts, all leaving their own realms, drawn to the disturbance. Among them, Ember spotted Skulker and Walker. She called out, her voice rising above the growing crowd.

“Skulker! What’s going on? My realm was shaking so badly it was almost destroyed! What’s happening? Is it...” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Skulker turned toward her, his expression grim. “From what I’ve seen of the Infinite Realms, and what Walker told me, this isn’t happening within the Realms themselves. It’s more like... something is forcing its way in. Something is approaching—like a gate is being opened.”

Before Ember could respond, Spectra and Bertrand joined the conversation.

“Do you mean like the Bermuda Triangle?” Spectra asked, her voice sharp with curiosity. “Natural portals open into the human world every so often. So, what are you implying here?”

Bertrand added, “And where are the Box Ghost and Hope? No one’s seen them at all—they’re unaccounted for. I didn’t spot them while flying here...”

Walker, overhearing the exchange, stepped in. “A group of ancient ghosts is already investigating the disturbance. Nocturne, Undergrowth, and Serenity (Hope) are heading to the source of the chaos. Another group—Vortex, Eris, and a member of the Frostbite tribe—is checking on the sarcophagus.”

The tension among the ghosts grew as whispers spread through the crowd. If the sarcophagus was involved, it could only mean one thing.

The Source of the Disturbance

The Box Ghost was minding his own business, lazily floating along, when a deep rumbling shook the area around him. Confused, he looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, he saw it—a gate, shimmering and unstable, opening up before him.

He hovered closer, scratching his head. Another portal? he thought. Perhaps it was just another random connection between the Infinite Realms and the living world, like those that occasionally appeared. He wondered if a human might accidentally stumble through, in which case he could help them back to their proper place.

But his musings were abruptly interrupted by an ear-piercing scream that erupted from the portal, cutting through the air like a blade. The scream didn’t stop—it continued, raw and agonizing, growing louder with each passing second. The vibrations shook the ground beneath him, forcing him to land. For the first time in ages, the Box Ghost felt fear.

Through the chaos, he saw her. A teenage girl, writhing in unimaginable pain, electricity crackling violently around her body. The sight made his ectoplasm go cold. He didn’t need to guess—he knew he was witnessing her death.

From the other side of the portal, voices called out her name. “Daniella!” they screamed, desperate and full of anguish. The girl’s screams suddenly stopped. Her body, instead of stepping forward into the afterlife, was pulled back, vanishing into the portal.

The Box Ghost stood frozen, unable to process what he had seen.

Moments later, Nocturne, Undergrowth, and Serenity arrived to investigate the disturbance. Serenity was the first to speak. “Box Ghost, are you okay? What happened here?”

Undergrowth scanned the area, his vine-like form twitching in response to the unstable energy. “It looks like a portal to the living world—but something’s wrong. Natural time gates rarely cause this kind of destruction. This… this is different.”

Nocturne crossed his arms, his glowing eyes narrowing. “Clockwork would’ve informed us if a new time gate had opened. He wouldn’t leave the citizens of the Infinite Realms in a panic. Whatever this is, it’s not ordinary.”

The Box Ghost, his voice unusually hollow and soft, asked, “Can a human… die… because of a portal between the Infinite Realms and the living world?”

All three ancient ghosts turned to him, alarm flashing across their faces. Serenity finally answered, her voice tinged with both concern and curiosity. “It’s possible. Portals between our realms and theirs are dangerous. Humans caught in the crossfire can sometimes lose their lives, forget what happened, or—on rare occasions—become something else entirely.”

The Box Ghost recounted what he had seen. “I saw a girl—a teenager. She was dying, screaming in pain, like she was being electrocuted. But she didn’t cross over. She… went back.”

The gravity of his words hit them like a tidal wave. Nocturne, Undergrowth, and Serenity exchanged horrified looks.

“Could she possibly be...” Nocturne started, his voice trailing off.

Serenity finished his thought. “The Chosen Warrior. There is a possibility that she isn’t.”

#dp x dc #danny phantom #female danny #the box ghost #ember mclain

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tovaicas · 8 months ago

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rouvastre au ra model for the final portion of shb? :thinking:

#saint.txt #spoilers #major spoilers #oc: rouvastre #specifically the post-Mt.Gulg -> final trial section #since you know they were halfway through turning into the world's most fucked up version of midgardsormr. thanks ratatoskr #I think his hair probably went white but the colour grew back fairly quickly after everything went down. Was probably still patchy white #by the time she goes back to Azys Lla so Esti.nien's like. what happened to your hair while everyone else is trying to get him to not ask

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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months ago

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There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.

Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.

This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.

We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.

Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.

“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?

We nodded.

They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.

As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.

It did not.

Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.

Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.

My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.

We drove to the park.

We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.

Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.

After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.

We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.

The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.

#ramblies #writing #funny #chickens #chicken park #story #ffs foibles #animal death

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gojonanami · 8 months ago

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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞

✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,

✧ wc: 8,271

“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,”

Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines.

And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk.

Just as they were now.

“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,”

“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,”

Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers.

And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost.

He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice.

“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded.

“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink.

“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“

“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath.

One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar.

He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,”

You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box, “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does.

“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,”

A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,”

He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?”

“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets.

“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,”

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out.

And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did.

No matter how hard you try.

“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,”

And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it.

“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips.

“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“

“Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects you.

You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.

“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?”

“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit.

“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves.

“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?”

“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?”

And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation.

“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“

He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“

“You asked me to hang out—“

“And we kissed—“

“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,”

“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more.

“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach.

“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?”

“Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“

“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“

“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle.

“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“

“It doesn’t have to be,”

“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home, “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks.

“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist.

Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh.

You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart.

“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“

“Sweetheart-“ and you snap.

“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,”

“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch.

Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say.

“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,”

“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“

“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?”

“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go.

“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t).

“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now.

“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?”

“You’re impossible—“

“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,”

You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?”

“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“

“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead.

“Why weren’t you?”

And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date.

“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“

And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”

“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“

“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”

Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him.

His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse.

“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“

“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?”

“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“

And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles.

“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.

And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“

“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,”

And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?”

Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,”

“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door.

And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment.

“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door.

“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“

“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,”

“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand.

“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips.

“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,”

“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss.

You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place.

“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin.

“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?”

“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown.

“I know I’ve made mistakes—“

You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,”

He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“

You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,”

“I—“

“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,”

Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“

“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,”

You stare at him, “What do you mean?”

He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,”

“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head.

“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,”

“Why?”

“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“

“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat.

He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“

“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,”

“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin.

“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,”

“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him.

And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?”

“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you.

Your lips curl, “Good boy.”

“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,”

You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand.

“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,”

“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?”

And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more.

“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself.

And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“

“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue.

“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,”

“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length.

“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you.

And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off.

Fuck.

With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips.

“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps.

You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean.

“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“

“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,”

The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige.

His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders.

“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?”

He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,”

“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,”

“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?”

And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“

“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,”

“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs.

“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily.

Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place.

“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,”

“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly.

You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices.

“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?”

“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh.

“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,”

“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“

He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t.

“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper.

A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then,

“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?”

“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“

He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“

“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart.

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you.

“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets.

And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?”

He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,”

His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,”

And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door.

Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?”

Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night.

“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you.

“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling.

“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo.

Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on.

He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin.

You had turned him down last night when he asked,

“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,”

“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again.

And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?

He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?”

Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“

“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,”

Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“

“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body.

A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.”

And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes, “who was it?”

He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,”

“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?”

“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?”

“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.”

✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)

✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo

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johnmalevolent · 1 year ago

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i watched tate no yuusha back in 2019 when it still aired and i remember not liking the fact raphtalia turned into a grown woman in a short time. so the other day i was like hm years have passed and maybe my sense of judgment has changed and maybe i'll get the point of raphtalia's development better. but no. i hate it more now

#krispeaks #im giving tate no yuusha the biggest benefit of doubt ever like. maybe its bcs i avoid isekai animanga so im not familiar with the tropes #(← screaming in denial)#I DONT GEEEEEET WHY MAKING RAPHTALIA A LOVE INTEREST. OR MAKING HER GROW UP QUICKLY.#it doesnt happen with her friends (although theres the 'raphtalia grows faster bcs of her level + the yuusha's influence' but that-#-still doesnt sound good. like either make her a love interest (& risk naofumi picking her to be sketchier after the accusations from myne)#or keep her a child or at most a teenager. since this thing is so full of loli bait anyway #you dont even know how much i clinged to naofumi calling raphtalia his daughter back then cos i rly dont want them to end up together #its weird to me. its weird to me!!!! like idc if people ship them but personally i cant. its the fact that raphtalia rly wants naofumi to-#-see her as a grown woman and not a child anymore. she's not shoyo she just grew up too fast like. raphtalia saying stuff like-#-how she's jealous of naofumi pampering filo-brushing her hair. petting her. just treating filo like a normal girl #and raphtalia denying that she doesnt want that anymo-with the kids meal and the toys too. saying shes a big girl and not a kid anymo now #girl lost her childhood twice. parents killed. friends kidnapped. slaved and tortured. got saved by a yuusha who saw her as his daughter #and yet she had so little time to enjoy being a child bcs thats just how being raised by a yuusha impacts non-humans #which is just. god. tate no yuusha did my girl so wrong. wdym being around specific types of people makes you mature faster.#if that doesnt sound weird to you idk what is.#i was so excited about the found family aspect so i kept watching #because it couldve been so good. it could've been game changing. it could've been my gintama #but it seems to good to be true i guess #anyways i rewatched it bcs there was no info for a long time that i assumed it was discontinued which was weird bcs it had quite the fandom #and the other day i found shield hero season 3 2023 and it was like *hoh cat face* so i rewatched it last night to regain my memories #before finally watching the other two seasons. wish me luck etc #should i give this a personal tag...#nyaofumi #not a slander at naofumi btw i believe my guy. i wanna ramble ab his characterization but personally i have no beef towards him nor raph #its the story and the writers that make me rage

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lizziesangel · 2 months ago

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thinking about rafe cameron getting reader her job back…

rafe spotted you as you stepped out of the diner, still wearing your uniform and clutching your bag tightly. you didn’t notice him at first, leaning against his car, arms crossed casually. his smirk grew as he watched you, but it faded when he noticed how your shoulders sagged, the way your head was down.

“yo, y/n,” he called out, his voice carrying over the quiet of the parking lot. “rough day? you’re giving off serious ‘spit in someone’s food’ vibes.”

you froze for a second, then started walking past him without so much as a glance. “not now, rafe.”

his brows shot up. you usually rolled your eyes at his teasing or snapped back with some sarcastic comment, but now? you brushed him off completely. that wasn’t like you.

rafe pushed off the car, his smirk replaced with confusion. “what, no comeback? did someone finally manage to piss you off more than i do?”

“go away, rafe,” you muttered, keeping your pace brisk.

he frowned, stepping in your path. “okay, hold up. what happened?”

“nothing,” you snapped, trying to sidestep him. but he moved with you, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied your face.

“doens’t look like ‘nothing,’” he said, his tone softer now, the teasing edge gone. “talk to me.”

you exhaled sharply, looking anywhere but at him. “if you really need to know, my boss fired me. happy now?”

rafe blinked, his brows furrowing. “fired you? why?”

“because some kook came crying to him about something stupid,” you said bitterly. “she made a scene, and he decided it was easier to blame me than deal with it. so, now i’m unemployed. satisfied?”

he stared at you, his jaw tightening. “that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard. you’re the only reason that place doesn’t completely suck.”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “well, apparently, that doesn’t matter.”

rafe’s eyes darkened, a dangerous edge slipping into his voice. “what’s this guy’s name?”

“don’t even think about it,” you said quickly, pointing a finger at him. “i don’t need you getting involved, rafe.”

his lips parted to protest, but something in your tired expression stopped him. instead, he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. “that’s seriously messed up,” he muttered. “you didn’t deserve that.”

“yah, well, life isn’t fair.” you shrugged, but your voice wavered. “anyway, i just want to go home.”

rafe nodded slowly, his chest tightening at how defeated you looked. “you need a ride or something? i don’t mind.”

you blinked at him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “no. i’m fine.”

“okay,” he said softly, watching as you walked off toward your house.

that night, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you. the way your voice broke when you talked about getting fired, the way you’d tried to hide how upset you were. it gnawed at him, and the longer he sat with it, the angrier he got.

grabbing his phone, he called his father, pacing his room as the phone rang.

“rafe,” his dad said tiredly. “what is it now?”

“i need $500,000,” rafe said, not bothering with any pleasantries.

there was a long silence. “excuse me?”

“you heard me,” rafe said, his tone firm. “i need $500,000.”

“for what?” ward asked, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“i’m buying the diner, the one by the lake,” rafe said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

ward’s laugh was sharp and incredulous. “why the hell would you do that?”

“because the guy who owns it is a prick,” rafe snapped. “he fired someone who actually cares about that place just to save his own ass. so, i’m buying it. end of story.”

ward was silent for a moment. “this wouldn’t have anything to do with that girl you’ve been sniffing around, would it?”

rafe rolled his eyes, though his heart raced at the mention of you. “whatever. just send me the money.”

“fine,” ward sighed. “but don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”

the next day, you got a call from the diner’s owner, informing you that there had been a “change in management.” you were being offered your job back—along with a raise.

confused, you walked back into the diner later that afternoon, only to find rafe leaning against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself.

“what are you doing here?” you asked warily.

he grinned, holding up a set of keys. “oh, you know. just checking on my new investment.”

your jaw dropped. “what do you mean, ‘new investment’?”

“i mean i bought the place,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. “figured someone needed to fix the mess your old boss made. starting with giving you your job back.”

you stared at him, completely floored. “you bought the diner?”

rafe shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “i mean, it’s not that big of a deal. but… yeah. you deserve better, y/n.”

“you’re worth it, okay? so don’t argue with me.”

you blinked, nodding slowly. “thanks, rafe.”

“anytime,” he said, his smile turning into something softer. “now, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. boss’s orders.”

MASTERLIST

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #outerbanks rafe #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine

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girlatmirror · 1 month ago

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does he know? jjk

‘she told you she’s celibate, she told me i could nail her shit’. in which your ex comes back to town, but you are in a new relationship.

ex bf! jungkook x reader

warnings: (kinda??) cheating, there’s some angsty themes (but not rlly idk), mentions of alcohol consumption, yn is a little mean sometimes (but she’s so real), yn is the president of #ihatemybf nation, unprotected, penetrative sex (be safe), ass eating (yup, jk is a munch thru n thru), idk what else

___

Jungkook and your brother, Zane, were always attached at the hip as you grew up in the same neighborhood. Your house was across from the Jeons' house, and ever since you could remember, you had a crush on Jungkook. Jungkook, the boy who stole your heart the moment he came over to play soccer with your brother and accidentally kicked the ball against your head at the tender age of 10, then apologized with a warm hug. You were eight when that happened, but you knew everything. You knew you wanted to marry that boy, and you knew what you felt was real. What you did not know was that the same boy would steal your heart years later and take it with him to Singapore, leaving you stranded.

Your love story started when you began attending college, the same one that Jungkook attended; surprisingly, it wasn’t the same as Zane’s. To Jungkook, that meant he could make a move on you without the awkwardness of your brother and your parents around. After years of waiting for the right time, Jungkook took the chance when Zane told him you were unsure about where to apply to major in psychology. Of course, he recommended that you apply to his school, which, thankfully, had an amazing psychology program. You took his advice and started attending the same university.

Jungkook became your bodyguard, even though he was a computer science major in his junior year, guiding you everywhere and protecting you from any harm, basically never leaving your side. At first, he claimed it was an oath to protect his buddy’s little sister, but at one point, he finally gathered the courage to profess his love for you and asked you out; of course, you agreed, and that’s where your love story began. That’s where a year filled with love, princess treatment, and pampering started. Your relationship remained strong even after he graduated; you continued going on dates, making time for each other daily, and being completely and utterly in love.

Until he received an offer to become a CFO of a large Microsoft company in Singapore, he accepted the offer despite your objections.

___

(a year and a half ago)

“Jungkook, baby, I’m here!” you shouted as you entered his upscale apartment with your spare key, which he had given you the moment he bought the apartment. “Sorry, I’m a little early; I was bored and by myself.”

Jungkook was taking a shower, smiling as his heart warmed at the sound of your voice. “That’s okay, baby. Come join me.”

“No, I already showered before I came here, but you enjoy!” you exclaimed with a giggle, looking for something to occupy yourself until he got out of the shower.

His bedroom was spacious and very neat; Jungkook was a clean person, a quality you cherished about him a lot.

You were bored, trying to find something to entertain yourself with until he got out of the shower when you found something that made your heart race.

On the nightstand, under a book he was currently reading, were two plane tickets. You quickly grabbed one and thoroughly read what was written on it.

* Name: Jungkook Jeon

* Date of Flight: January 15, 2021

* Flight Number: SQ 25

* Airline: Singapore Airlines

* Departure:

* Airport: John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK), New York, USA

* Time: 10:00 AM (EST)

* Arrival:

* Airport: Singapore Changi Airport (SIN), Singapore

* Time: January 16, 2021, 5:00 PM (SGT)

Class: Business

January 15 was just three weeks away. Jungkook hadn’t said a word about his trip to you. He mentioned the business opportunity he received in Singapore once, but you quickly shut down any further talk about it, completely against the idea of him leaving. He hadn’t talked about it since.

Your heart stopped for a millisecond, shock taking over your body. With shaky hands, you quickly grabbed the other ticket; it was the same flight but for a different passenger.

Your name was written on it.

Just as you tried to compose yourself, you heard a click from the bathroom door; Jungkook had finished his shower. You quickly put the tickets back where you found them. He entered the bedroom with a big smile, a towel hugging his lower body, strong arms and defined abs on display.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he leaned over your frozen body and planted a kiss on your lips before noticing the tenseness in your posture. “Hey…what’s wrong, my angel?”

“What’s wrong?” You let out a humorless laugh. “What’s wrong??”

Jungkook stood in front of you, confused and nervous, still half-naked in just a towel.

You grabbed the tickets and faced him. The color drained from his face.

“Baby, I was gonna tell you about it,” he tried to explain, but your harsh expression didn’t soften.

“When? The day you’re supposed to leave?” you said sarcastically. “Oh wait, I’m sorry, the day we are supposed to leave?”

“Yn…” the voice you usually loved suddenly angered you.

“No! Just no! How could you do that?! I told you, I don’t want this!!” Angry tears started forming in your eyes. “You can’t just make a huge decision like this without telling me!”

“I know it wasn’t a good move, baby, but this is a huge opportunity for me; you have to understand,” he tried to touch your waist, but you pushed his hands away.

“You’re joking, right?” you exclaimed, your hand in your hair as you chaotically walked around with the plane tickets in your hand before stopping. “It’s not like I don’t understand; I do! But I don’t understand how you can just decide something so big for both of us and assume I’m going to go along with it!!”

The tension between you and him could be cut with a knife, your words throwing flames of anger at him.

“Yn, if you would just listen to me for a second,” Jungkook’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of desperation. “I want you to come with me; you can continue your studies there, and we’ll get married. We can come back for every holiday and every vacation I get; it’s gonna be good. We’ll be fine.”

“And you haven’t once stopped to think about what I want? If I want to leave everything behind and move with you to Singapore, only to come back on HOLIDAYS?? Jungkook, my family is here; damn it, your whole family is here. Did you not think this through?” you yelled at him, pushing your fingers against his chest. “And what’s wrong with your current job? It pays well; it’s here! There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I just graduated from college last year! Do you know how often I could get an opportunity like this? Probably never, and let’s be honest, nobody’s getting any younger, so I’m going to take this job!” he exclaimed, but then his voice softened again. “I can provide for us with this position, Yn; I’m going to be a millionaire my first year. This is what I dreamed of ever since I started college: to get a good job and be set for life, not just for myself, but for my future wife as well, for you.”

“Well, I guess your future wife’s a very lucky woman then, but I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you took a deep breath, tears still brimming in your eyes. “It’s not going to be me.”

Jungkook got on his knees, his head touching your leg as he begged. “Don’t say that, Yn, please don’t.”

“I’m sorry; I just cannot do this. Not right now.” You left the bedroom hastily, Jungkook immediately following you, grabbing your arm. “Let me go, please.”

“No! I’m not going to let you go!” he snapped. “You can’t just give up on us this easily, Yn. We have one fight, and you’re ready to leave? What the fuck!?”

“I’m sorry; I don’t even think this is a fight! This is you disrespecting me, my freedom, my opinion, and stepping all over my life like it’s yours to control!” you argued, cheeks flushed from overwhelming anger. “I am not your property! You can’t just control things in my life like you’re in charge of it, okay?! I won’t go to Singapore with you. Goodbye.”

As you moved to the door, he stepped in front of you, his body towering over yours. “You didn’t even think about it, Yn. Singapore is a great place; if you transfer to a school there, you’ll still get a very good education. The quality of life is amazing; the house I bought for us is huge. You’ll have enough space for yourself, and there’s even a library, baby; you’ve always wanted a library in your house. I found you a school with an amazing psychology program near our house and my work; you don’t need to think about money at all; I’ll pay for everything. I’ll get you whatever you want, baby; just come with me.”

“Our house??” You asked in disbelief. “Did you just completely lose it? You didn’t ask me if I want to come with you, and you already bought me a ticket and a house?”

It was evident that Jungkook’s patience was wearing thin as he jabbed his cheek with his tongue. “I’m sorry that I want to move forward with our relationship, Yn. I thought we talked about this: we want to get married, get a house together… have kids. What’s suddenly so wrong with that?”

“You’re right; we did talk about these things, but for later and for here! After I graduate, not when you suddenly decide you’re ready, Jungkook,” you explained, your voice a little less harsh than before. “A relationship means working together as a team. It doesn’t mean you get to make life-altering decisions behind my back.”

“So, what does this mean now?” he inquired, his heart pumping with fear.

“I don’t know; I don’t know,” you fidgeted with your hair intensely, eyes shut, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I just really don’t want to see you right now.”

And that was the last time you saw Jungkook. You didn’t attend the farewell party your brother threw for him, nor did you say goodbye on the day he left. You successfully fought all the urges to reply to his messages or call him back, which led to an empty feeling in your heart.

You were not ready to forgive him.

At one point, you unfollowed him on all social media, muted his number, and refused to look at the pictures and messages he sent you from Singapore; you simply couldn’t.

Deciding to focus solely on college, a little over a year after Jungkook left, you graduated with honors. During the time you learned to navigate life without the love of it, you also learned to be happy within it. You cut off any thread that led you back to the feelings you had for Jungkook.

Eventually, you started living without the aching emptiness in your heart again, yet there was always something missing. You always feared you knew what – or who – it was.

___

You didn’t really know how to describe your current state.

Now 23, you had graduated college, had a steady job, and were in a relationship that was going well. From the outside, it seemed your life was perfect; there was nothing more you could possibly wish for.

You were content with where you were, but there was always something missing. Something indescribable that you subconsciously searched for.

Work was your way of distracting yourself from feeling like that, avoiding confronting your feelings at all costs, which was ironic, considering you studied psychology.

You were working on a report on your day off when Eric, your boyfriend of eight months, called your phone. You couldn’t help but sigh, yet you picked up reluctantly. “Hey.”

“Hi, baby! How is my superstar doing today?” Eric’s cheery voice spoke. “I miss you, and I thought since it’s your day off, we could go get bagels and coffee. I’ll pick you right up!”

Bagels and coffee... you were sick of getting bagels and coffee with Eric. You couldn’t remember the last time he planned something new or exciting for you.

“I’m sorry, Eric, I can’t,” you said in a distant voice. “I’m working on a report, and I have to finish this one... but we could do this another time, right? I mean, there’s always bagels and coffee.”

Eric felt uneasy with the idea that you felt so comfortable not seeing him for weeks and not even checking up on him; he was always the one to call you. If it were up to you, he wouldn’t know where you were half the time.

“Everything okay, babe?” Eric asked. “You want me to come over, cook you something? Give you a massage? Help you with your research?”

‘No, god, no,’ a voice in your subconscious mind said.

“No, it’s fine,” you reassured him, still focusing on the MacBook in front of you instead of your boyfriend. “We’ll just see each other sometime this week, alright? I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

This conversation summed up your relationship with Eric.

He was a sweet, respectful guy who worshipped the ground you walked on, seemingly always a step ahead of you in the relationship. He was already talking about your future together while you were unsure of spending a full weekend with him alone.

It freaked you out. You had only been in one relationship before, but with Jungkook, everything seemed to fall into place: both completely and utterly in love with each other, (almost) always on the same page, never wanting to leave each other’s sides, no subconscious voices in your mind or feelings in your gut telling you something was wrong; just pure excitement and joy.

You told yourself it was you growing up, becoming a ‘real adult,’ but the more you told yourself that, the more you recognized it was a lie.

At least your relationship with Eric gave you one thing you were looking for: peace.

___

Jungkook was back in town after exactly one year and seven months.

It was a small town; people talked and gossiped about everything and everyone, but that’s not how you should have found out about it, given that your brother was the one who picked him up from the airport.

It irritated you that your brother thought you were too fragile to let you know that his best friend, your ex, was coming back to town.

He didn’t know exactly what happened between you and Jungkook; neither of you went into the details of your breakup. He only knew how much love there was between you and that you weren’t willing to talk about Jungkook or hear his name during the initial months after the breakup.

He assumed it was a bad one.

You decided to call him just to see if he would mention anything about Jungkook being back.

“Hey, sis, how’s it going?” your brother answered after a few rings.

“Hi, Zane,” you bit back any snappiness. “I’m doing well. Where are you?”

He hesitated for a few moments, then you heard his footsteps, obviously walking away from whatever scene he was in before. “Just out with some friends…”

You loved how much of a bad liar your brother was.

“Who?” your curiosity was palpable.

“Damn, why do you care so much?”

“I don’t know, Zane; maybe because I heard from some girls at the nail salon that you picked Jungkook up from the airport two days ago,” you said, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed into the phone, tsk’ing lightly. “I’m sorry, Yn; I just didn’t know how you were gonna react, you know?”

“Oh my god, I am not a baby! I can handle it,” you declared. “So what if Jungkook is back? What am I gonna do now? It literally changes nothing about my life. You could throw him a party and invite Bella Hadid for all I care.”

Truthfully, Jungkook being back in your orbit did mean something to you. Your first love was back where he belonged after long months without this place seeing him; it almost made you emotional to imagine him back in his childhood home, back in his first apartment after graduation, and back with your brother playing basketball in the yard and…

“Actually, I am,” your brother hesitantly revealed.

“You’re throwing him a party and inviting Bella Hadid??” You only realized how ridiculous that sentence sounded after it came out of your mouth.

“No, just throwing him a welcome back party,” he chuckled a little. “You can come if you want! But only if you want; like, don’t feel pressured to be there. If you don’t come, I’ll totally understand–”

“I’ll be there!” you interrupted your brother’s rambling, who was nervous because he knew what you turned into when you were mad. “And Eric will also be there.”

“Eric?” Confused, he asked, as if he didn’t remember where he heard that name before. “Oh, yeah, your new boyfriend. Yeah, sure, take him with you.”

Even though Zane truly felt it wasn’t a good idea for your current boyfriend and Jungkook to be in the same room, he was inclined to agree with you.

You were going to attend Jungkook’s welcome back party with Eric, and you were going to look absolutely beautiful.

---

After visiting every boutique in New York with your girlfriends to find the perfect dress for your brother’s party, you finally found it and called Eric last minute to inform him that he would be your plus one for this party.

The dress you picked out was a gorgeous red number with a flattering off-the-shoulder cut and delicate lace accents, striking the perfect balance between sexy and classy, accentuating your curvy silhouette; you aimed to impress.

Eric wasn’t aware that Jungkook was your ex; he only knew that the party was for your brother’s best friend who had returned from overseas. He didn’t care whose party it was; he just thanked God that you finally called him and let him see you.

Your girlfriends knew you were indulging in self-destructive behavior by going to a party solely for your ex-boyfriend after not seeing him for almost two years, but they also knew nothing they would say could stop you, and they seemed to think you deserved closure. All of them suspected that you were still hung up on Jungkook, but none dared to speak of it until you decided to, which you hadn’t.

As you arrived at the bar your brother rented, hand in hand with Eric, his friend Marcus was the first to greet you with a big grin, evidently already too drunk for his own good.

“Hey, Marcus, you know where Zane is?” you asked, only to receive a drunkenly slurred ‘nah, but probably in the back somewhere’ as an answer.

While you walked into the place, you couldn’t help but silently praise your brother’s dedication; the venue looked good, nicely decorated with a huge sign that said ‘Welcome Back, Jungkook’ on it.

The crowd was enormous, making you almost trip in your high heels, but thankfully, you caught yourself on Eric’s arm.

“This will be the first time I meet your brother. I can’t wait!” Somehow through the loud noise, Eric still managed to be audible. “It’s about time, you know? I mean, you’ve met my entire family; I was wondering when I’d get to meet yours.”

“Yeah,” you sent a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes his way and walked forward, until you finally saw a glimpse of Zane, seemingly engaged in an animated conversation. “He’s there!”

With gathered confidence, you gripped Eric’s hand and walked over to Zane; even though your eyes didn’t see him yet, you knew that if Zane was there, Jungkook couldn’t be far.

“Zane!” you called out to grab his attention, but the music was too loud and he was too engaged in the conversation to hear you, so you approached him closer, gripping Eric’s hand like your life depended on it.

When Zane finally saw you, he waved at you, excitedly signaling you to come closer, so you did. But there was no sign of Jungkook yet.

“Yn!!” he shouted, having indulged in some drinks himself. “Hey! Come here; let me get you a drink.”

He didn’t even spare Eric a glance before turning around, but thankfully, you gave him a subtle nod in Eric’s direction, which he immediately picked up. “Hey, man, I’m Zane, Yn’s brother. You must be Eric. How’re you doing?”

Zane gave him a friendly smile and offered him a hand, which Eric immediately shook. He was giddy to say the least, just as he opened his mouth, a deep voice from behind you interrupted him before he could speak. “Ey, Zane, there’s no fucking pizza left! It’s my damn party, and I didn’t even get a piece of pizza!”

Jungkook’s playful voice halted you for an instant. Your back was still turned to him, but as he approached the three of you, he slowly recognized who stood in front of him.

Now, he stood next to your brother, paralyzed for a second before he let his eyes wander down your face, then your entire body; a shimmer of desire and longing that could not be overlooked formed. He studied your familiar body, every curve that was once only his to touch, to explore, and the eyes that looked back at him with an innocence he could not resist.

His attention flickered to Eric for a second before fully turning to you again, with darkened eyes and flared nostrils; you were sure from his expression that Zane told him you were in a relationship now.

Your eyes wandered just the same, spotting new tattoos and much bigger biceps; he looked disgustingly handsome. He was bigger, and his presence seemed even more powerful than before he left. His hair had grown a few inches, but what always stayed the same were his eyes that never stopped looking at you the same way.

There was an awkward silence that even Eric detected before Jungkook spoke up. “Yn… it’s good to see you. You look beautiful, of course.”

There was something deep about the way he said those simple words; it was evident there was a lot more behind them.

And there was so much you wanted to say too, but all you could muster was, “It’s nice to see you too.”

You felt Eric’s and Zane’s gazes swinging from you to Jungkook while you two were lost in each other’s eyes; Eric was confused, trying to figure out what was going on, while Zane was amused yet cautious of what would happen if he left you two to it, with your boyfriend by your side.

“So, I think we should all get something to drink,” Zane was the one to break the silence before patting Jungkook on the shoulder. “C’mon, man; I’ll get you that pizza.”

They moved along, leaving you and Eric alone for a moment.

“So, do you know that Jungkook guy?” Eric carefully asked, not wanting to push you.

“He’s my brother’s best friend; of course I know him,” you answered a little snappily. “And he used to be our neighbor.”

Eric simply nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening a bit before you slipped out of it, saying, “I’m gonna get a drink too.”

But you actually left to catch a breath of fresh air on the balcony. You felt someone following you, but convinced yourself it was paranoia until you felt the warmth of a larger body lurking behind you. You turned around and saw Jungkook looking at you with an indescribable expression.

“Please tell me that’s your new gay best friend,” he started, now standing next to you, hands on the balcony railing.

“What?” You turned your face to look at him, a sigh escaping your lips.

You were pretending that his presence didn’t affect you, pretending that you were even slightly annoyed he followed you, but you knew you wanted him to and you were glad he did.

“The guy you came with,” he clarified, a waiting gleam in his eyes.

You knew he knew that Eric was your boyfriend; he was just acting oblivious to get you to feel bad and to start a conversation about how Eric wasn’t ‘the right one for you.’ He might have been gone for over a year, but you knew Jungkook. He was predictable to you.

“No... he’s my boyfriend,” you clarified with a huff. “And what’s it to you anyway?”

He put his hand up in defense, a small smirk forming on his pretty face. “Nothing, nothing... just didn’t think he was your type is all.”

Despite not having figured out your feelings for Eric, Jungkook’s words pushed you to defend him.

“What do you mean ‘not my type’? Eric is a sweet guy, the sweetest actually, and any girl would be lucky to be with him,” you asserted, your heart racing. “He is gentle and a good communicator, and he loves me. And he would never do anything behind my back.”

Jungkook’s nostrils slightly flared as you talked about another man; he had always been the possessive one. He noticed how your stance wasn’t firm and the knitted expression on your eyebrows; a sign of uncertainty on your face he knew too well. “He loves you, huh? No doubt about it... do you love him though?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt faint for a second, not knowing how to compose yourself; you didn’t love him, no matter how much you tried. You always found yourself longing for something else... someone else. You didn’t know what to say, so you replied, “He treats me right.”

“I’d hope so...” he started, with an indescribable expression. “At least one person in that ‘relationship’ has to treat you right.”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do: making you overthink your relationship to come to the conclusion you two belonged together. But your half-healed heart refused to bring you to that place.

“What are you trying to accomplish, Jungkook?” you asked, saying his name as if it were venomous. “You left for Singapore almost two years ago; what was I supposed to do? Wait around for you until you remembered you had people who wanted to see you here? People who missed you?”

Now, he wore a spiteful expression, jabbing his cheek with his tongue. “No, you should have picked up my calls, answered my messages, let me know how you were doing. You should have at least let Zane let me know. You blocked me out of your life entirely; we are – we were in love, Yn. That doesn’t just go away overnight.”

You scoffed sarcastically to mask the pressure in your heart, affected by his words. “You think it was easy for me to do that? Guess what, Jungkook! It took a lot longer than ‘overnight’ for me to get over you, and if I had answered your calls and messages, maybe I still wouldn’t be over you!”

At that point, the loud party was a soft background noise for the two of you; you were too indulged in the rising tensions - your raising voices the only thing consuming you. Even during fights, there seemed to be no one else around you - for you.

“I wanted you to come with me! I got you a ticket, remember? The house is designed exactly how you envisioned your dream house,” he started, pain evident in his voice. “Yet, I have to live in it alone while everything reminds me of you.”

Your heart was breaking all over again, the sorrowful reflection in his gaze influencing you more than you wished. Yet, there was a rational part of you that recognized you had to stand your ground, defend yourself. You had good reasons to do what you did.

“Maybe you should have told me that before you bought a ticket for me without consulting me first!” you ranted, reminiscing the shock you felt at finding the tickets. “Or maybe you shouldn’t have taken the job offer and just stayed here like I wanted you to!!”

Jungkook had envisioned multiple scenarios about what would happen when you would see each other again. He thought about it all the time, while he was working, during sleepless nights without you by his side, while showering, working out, or fucking women that meant nothing to him... he knew exactly what you were going to say, if you would be willing to talk to him. And you were, and that made him feel happy despite the arguing because at least you were willing to argue with him, to talk to him.

He knew you, maybe more than anybody else did. He was convinced that the love between you two transcended any boundaries or obstacles.

“I know,” he admitted defeat, his voice velvety. “And I’m so fucking sorry, but please, baby, just give us another chance. I’m staying here for six months straight, and the offer to come with me after still stands.”

You felt conflicted; on one hand, you could not believe his audacity, and on the other, you were satisfied to know that he still wanted you, just like the last time he saw you.

“You can’t be serious!” you snapped. “I’m with Eric, and you can’t just come here and pretend like nothing ever happened.”

Jungkook felt your patience spreading thin and decided to go against his usual instincts to persuade you further. “Alright, I’m sorry. I just need to know one thing.”

“What?”

“Is he fucking you good?” he inquired, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

The question hung in the air like an unanswered prayer for a moment. You stood frozen before him as if you weren’t expecting him to ask that, as if you weren’t sure how to answer it.

And you truly didn’t.

“I don’t know,” came out in a whisper.

The truth was, you hadn’t let Eric that far yet, and you weren’t planning to do it anytime soon. He had an inability to make you wet, and whenever he went any further than touching your waist, you felt a slight sensation of disgust, like you would rather be fighting in a war than let Eric be inside you. You opted for telling him you were celibate, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jungkook was confused, trying to decipher what you were trying to say.

“It means,” you started, slowly regaining your snappiness, “that I don’t know! I’ve never had sex with him.”

It was now Jungkook’s turn to say ‘what?!’ and it suddenly made you very aware that there were crowds of people just inside, Eric being one of them. You were lucky there were so many people blocking the view into the balcony, because if there weren’t, Eric would have found you a long time ago.

Jungkook was evidently happy with the revelation, smiling like an idiot.

“Stop smiling like that!” you hissed, motioning with your hands. “I’m just not ready yet. I told him I’m celibate. It’s none of your business anyway; why am I telling you any of this?”

Jungkook obeyed your wishes and stopped smiling; instead, he burst out laughing, so amused. “So you’ve been dating for eight months, and you still haven’t fucked? Damn, ma... we did it after the first date... and every day after.”

Before you could answer, your brother entered the balcony. When he saw you and Jungkook face to face, deep in a conversation or rather an argument, he gazed between you with an indescribable expression.

“Yn, Eric’s been looking for you everywhere,” Zane informed you with what you called ‘warning eyes’ digging holes into your face as you went back inside, leaving the two best friends alone.

___

The two weeks following the party were filled with work, for you and Jungkook alike. You didn’t run into each other again, but you did decide to unblock him.

You thought it was petty and unnecessary to deny him access to you when you would surely see him during his six-month stay here. You also wanted to see if he would notice and maybe hit you up occasionally; which he did.

Good morning texts and daily ‘how are you’s?’ filled you with an unspoken joy that you felt shouldn’t have been there, but you defended yourself by thinking, ‘I cannot control my feelings.’

Your conversation on the balcony made you think a lot through, specifically your relationship with Eric. You decided it was time to open up to him, giving him a chance to take you out properly, which he had been trying to do for a while.

So, you were getting ready for a romantic night out with Eric, putting on a gorgeous, tiny black dress that accentuated your curves and applying makeup that made you resemble an effortless beauty.

You planned to be honest with him about where you thought the relationship was headed.

---

You met up with Eric at a nice Italian restaurant in the middle of the city.

After a little small talk and finishing your meal, you sat in an awkward silence as he admired you.

You could feel something unusual but brushed it off as your usual paranoia. Eric was always a jolly person who wasn’t afraid to show his love in sometimes very overbearing ways.

“You know, Yn,” he started and suddenly got on one knee. His loving gaze spread pity over your conscience, his position weighing heavily on your chest. “I’ve never felt this way about anybody; you are bright like the stars and beautiful like a flower. I find you in everything around me. You consume my soul, Yn. I... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

He took out a red box and opened it, revealing a small diamond ring. Eric waited a moment for your answer, but you sat frozen; it was too much. With the people around you watching, and Eric’s slowly saddened eyes gauging your reaction, you did not know what to do.

You questioned Eric’s self-awareness more than anything; when had you ever given him the impression that you wanted to marry him? You were sure you had never even given him a reason to think you wanted to be in a relationship with him!

You knew Eric’s lack of self-awareness would present a problem sooner or later, but you just wished it wasn’t in such a public setting, in front of at least twenty people.

Your breath quickened, and your heart tightened. You couldn’t do this anymore.

So, you grabbed your purse, stood up, and left with a hurried, “I’m sorry; I can’t do this,” leaving Eric with a humiliating crowd and a broken heart.

It felt like the right thing to do.

- - -

Once you ran to your car without looking back, you drove away from the scene.

You were so lost in thought that your subconscious acted; you set off in a direction you had not intended to go. You drove in the exact direction of Jungkook's apartment, as if it hadn’t been two years since you were last there, as if you were returning from work and it was your house.

As if your heart, and not your head, had guided you. If you had been thinking clearly at that moment, you would have given yourself a slap and reminded yourself who you were.

But you didn't, because as your grandma used to say, “Love makes a person lose their mind.”

You parked your car next to his luxury car. He still lived in the same apartment where you last fought, where you had countless sleepovers, where you lost your virginity, where you shared secrets, and made love in every corner.

You cursed and loved that apartment at the same time.

With a fog-clouded mind, you entered the complex and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Finally, you knocked on his door, '4B,' a few times before a confused Jungkook opened it.

He stood there in all of his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and an oversized black shirt, looking back at you with a questioning yet yearning gaze. “Yn?”

His voice immediately sent shivers down your spine, and you wanted to live in the eyes that devoured your lightly clothed body. “Can I come in?”

Your voice was smaller and weaker than it had ever been; he could tell there was something wrong but did not ask right away. He simply stepped aside and said, “Of course. Always.”

His eyes ran over the prominent curve of your breasts and your naked legs, begging to be wrapped around his head.

Before he had the chance to ask what was wrong, you threw yourself into his arms and whispered a desperate, “Can you just hold me?” into his ears.

He simply kissed your forehead and carried you to the couch.

You wrapped your exposed thick thighs around his waist and your arms draped around his neck, his hands resting on your hips, holding you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You hadn’t felt so safe since he left.

The realization that Jungkook was your safe space suddenly hit you, making you hide your face further in his neck.

He sat on the huge sofa, which led you to sit on his lap, your face still hidden in the hollow of his neck.

His large hand moved from your back to your hip, and you would have loved nothing more than to let yourself melt into his body. You had searched so long for that feeling – the feeling of being back in the arms of the only man you could love.

“What happened?” he asked solicitously, his voice rushing softly in your ears.

You refused to say anything for a few moments, totally unsure of how to explain your situation to him, or if you even wanted to.

Slowly coming out of your hiding place, you looked deep into his eyes; your eyes held a melancholy he noticed immediately. He stroked your goosebump-filled arms and brought his forehead close to yours. The atmosphere was just loving and peaceful.

“Eric proposed to me…” you sighed softly, fingers tangled in his soft black hair.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?? Did you...” He coughed a bit before continuing, “Did you say yes?”

You sighed even louder. Even though you did not want to discuss it, you knew you had to eventually.

“No,” you answered, trying to maintain eye contact. “I just ran away and drove here.”

It was obvious Jungkook was trying hard to suppress a smile, so he simply wrapped his arms around you comfortingly and gently rocked you back and forth without saying a word.

You were hyper-aware of the fact that the only thing separating your wet pussy from leaving marks on his sweatpants were your thin, almost see-through panties.

You stayed in that position for a while, before leaning in and starting to place wet kisses on his neck, your fingers tightening around his hair.

His breath grew heavier as he held onto the thick flesh of your bare ass, unsure whether to let you go further or stop you.

“Yn...” his tone was uncertain yet aroused. “We really shouldn’t…”

You continued the trail of desperate kisses, unable to resist, with his familiar scent and the feel of his skin against your lips.

You already felt his dick hardening in his boxers as you gently caressed it with your hands, making him groan at the friction.

“Why not?” you asked with a pout, before palming his dick harder while grinding on his thigh. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Do I not make you hard anymore?”

You knew that neither of those things was true; you were just playing dumb to get him to give in to something you wanted, craved desperately. Your body hadn’t been properly touched in nearly two years; you were starting to get needy.

“You’re in a vulnerable state,” he stated in a raspy voice, heavily affected by your behavior. “I don’t want to do something with you that you might regret later.”

You shook your head almost vigorously, gently punching his chest; it was only gentle because your arousal was weakening your body. “No, you don’t get to leave for Singapore for two years and then come back to deny me. If I say I want you, I better get you, okay? I’ve been lonely for almost two years, Kookie; my fingers are starting to cramp from how much I touch myself thinking about it... don’t you dare deny me.”

Despite the urge to chuckle at your approach, your words made him think about you craving him just as much as he craved you; it made him feel validated and less pathetic for thinking about you after all the time and distance.

He was always convinced the love between you two transcended any boundaries or obstacles.

He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, which you reciprocated with whimpers against his familiar lips. There was no way to describe how much you missed this feeling.

Suddenly gripping your hips tighter, he stood up, carrying you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing, your pussy and his clothed dick touching delectably, evoking even more arousal from both of you.

At his bedroom, he gently placed you on the bed, looking down at you with desire-filled eyes. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes!” Your patience was wearing thin. “Just fuck me, Jungkook, and stop talking so much.”

You tugged at his shirt, and he quickly took the hint, stripping it off to reveal well-defined abs and bulging biceps, arms that looked like they could kill someone.

The last time you saw him, he was already muscular and fit, but it was evident that he took his fitness seriously while in Singapore.

You dreamily stared him up and down. “Now, the pants.”

He chuckled at your bossiness but obeyed without hesitation, leaving him in just his boxers.

You were getting impatient, already reaching for your panties to rub your pussy in anticipation, letting out small ‘hmmm’ sounds that drove Jungkook insane.

Now, he was determined to take off your dress, zipping it down hastily and almost ripping it off you if it weren’t for your hands stopping him from ruining a perfectly good dress.

“Baby, you don’t know how much I missed this,” Jungkook breathed out, eyeing you hungrily while you carefully took off your dress.

Once the dress was off, you revealed nothing more than your panties; you decided not to wear a bra because the dress was strapless and it would look silly with one.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, clearly overwhelmed by the sight of your generous breasts. “No bra?”

You shook your head and slowly approached him, roaming your hands all over him and grabbing him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Your chest pressed against his, or more accurately, against his solid stomach because of your height difference; he was acutely aware of your hard nipples.

“Fuck, Yn,” he groaned, his hands roaming your body just the same. “Need to be inside you.”

“Then fuck me,” you urged, tugging at his boxers with hooded eyes and parted lips, desperation and horniness visible. “Just want you to fuck me, Kookie.”

He tilted his head back at your words, muttering a low ‘fuck,’ before positioning himself to enter your pussy. He quickly glanced into your eyes for any uncertainty, and finally, when he didn’t find anything other than an eager, awaiting expression, he entered your tight pussy with a low groan.

Your mouth widened for a second as you tried to adjust to the feel of his dick again, eliciting loud moans of pleasure and slight uneasiness.

He pressed you against the wall for more support, thrusting deeper into you. He watched his dick enter your pussy; it was almost poetic to him how perfectly made for him your pussy felt.

There were no afterthoughts about the situation being wrong, absolutely no overthinking about Eric, who was blowing up your phone while you were getting your back blown by your ex.

It felt right; you and Jungkook knew you were meant to be, and there was nothing that could happen, no one that could come between you. At the end of the day, you were always going to be back in each other’s arms.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he panted, his lips pressing against your cheeks. “Still so fucking tight for me...”

You let out an aroused purr, already fucked out before even starting. Your hands were gripping his big arms, and your hips were moving towards him, seeking more friction.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment, baby,” he admitted between low groans, moving in and out skillfully. “You know how many times I fisted my dick thinking about fucking you again?”

“Me too,” you desperately moaned back, bouncing slightly; the sound of slapping skin surrounded the air. “Fuck, Jungkook… love that dick… yes, I fucking love that dick…”

Your barely comprehensible words drove him crazy, gripping your hips and fucking you like you were a fuck toy. “Shit, baby, that pussy’s mine, yeah? Only mine. No one else gets to - fuck - no one else gets to have you like this.”

You nodded, burying your fucked-out face in his broad shoulder, vocalizing the pleasure you felt at every thrust. Your breath tickled his skin, and the warmth of his hands contrasted the coldness of the wall beautifully.

His big dick moved inside of you in a steady rhythm, each thrust making your eyes roll back further.

Your bodies pressed against each other sexually, big breasts spilling out against his strong chest, your hands moving around his back to scratch him harshly, and his grip on your ass and hips becoming almost painful; you were both begging for release.

“Harder, Kookie. Do it harder,” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded. “That dick feels so fucking good. Oh god, Jungkook.”

He indeed started to fuck you harder, heavy breaths becoming even heavier, lips connecting again and again in sensual kisses. His moans against your lips drove you wild.

The raw intensity of the moment was driving you insane; you felt every inch of his beautiful dick, and he was feeling your pussy entirely, without the almost restrictive feeling of a condom.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he panted with every quickened motion of his dick, his mouth forming an ‘o.’ “Baby, I’m g’na cum. Shit, I’m g’na cum so fucking hard.”

Feeling your high approach as well, you didn’t care about the consequences at all; you planned to go on birth control first thing in the morning, saying, “Cum inside, Jungkook. Please, just fill me up with that cum.”

Your bodies moved together rhythmically, his steady thrusts hitting exactly the right spots as you chased your orgasm. Your eyes locked together and your moans became intertwined.

Low ‘fuck’s and ‘oh god’s were all you heard, as both of you were too deep into the pleasure to formulate real sentences.

With one final thrust and a muttered ‘yes, just like that,’ he found his release, his thick, warm cum deliciously filling you. You closely followed, your back arching and head thrown back, the two of you coming hard.

His broad body momentarily collapsed against yours, both panting hard, still pressed against the wall. He whispered praises and sweet nothings in your ear while trying to regain composure.

“I’m so happy I came here,” you softly kissed him, and he agreed with your words, muttering a ‘me too’ against your lips.

You felt hazy and tired, but you tried to slowly get off Jungkook and get to the bathroom, which you eventually did with his help; he carried you all the way there.

After you finished cleaning yourselves up, you headed straight to the bed. You lay bare on your stomach, still somewhat overstimulated and hazy from the orgasm.

Jungkook gently stroked your backside, muttering things like, “You did so good for me, baby,” and “You don’t know how much I missed this fucking pussy,” before leaning in and biting into your shapely ass playfully, eliciting a gasp from you.

He spread kisses on your ass cheeks and slowly separated them; he stuck his head in between and gave your hole a few licks before gently sucking on the skin of your ass with his skillful tongue.

Your legs started to tremble from pleasure and mild discomfort; Jungkook had eaten you before, but you seldom did that in the bedroom.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized how terrified your brother would be if he knew what you two did.

“Jungkook!” you purred, arching your back for more pressure against his tongue. “Oh fuck… oh my god, oh god.”

Jungkook’s groans and low chuckles sent vibrations through your body, deepening the pleasure and making you seek your high more.

“Fuck, this fat ass is still as good as I remember,” he praised against the sensitive skin, still kneading and spanking it hard. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

He returned to licking and probing your asshole, clearly enjoying your squirming figure. You pushed your ass up, hoping for more friction.

You were practically already fucked out and overwhelmed that you couldn’t answer with more than a simple agreeing moan.

You started grinding your ass against his face, desperately wanting to cum again, enjoying the feel of his tongue against you.

His licks and your grinding quickened, which quickly turned into a series of ‘ah, ah, ah’s as you came undone on his tongue.

When your panting lessened, you turned around, lying on your back in bliss.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms almost immediately.

Jungkook thought this was the nicest way you could have welcomed him back.

___

i hope you enjoy this!! idk if i wanna give this a second part or just leave it like this (cause i have no idea what i would do in the 2nd part actually), but i’m thinking i’ll see if people enjoy it and then think about a part two💋 love uuu

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bbkoolkatz · 2 months ago

Text

wife. god he loves using that word. he's giving your order at Starbucks? my wife wants the usual, making reservations? yeah, my wife and i... at press conferences when they asked him a question, he always happen to mention his beautiful, gorgeous, amazing 'n smart wife.

he gave zero fucks about the context too—his latest victory, plans for the future, or questions about his fav food?— katsuki never misses an opportunity to mention you. so much so that the reporters started to bet on how quickly he'd bring you up...

today was no exception. he leaned against the podium, the scowl on his face doing little to hide how much he didn't want to be there as cameras flashed in his face and reporters shouted over each other for his attention. until he pointed at one, to hear what their goddamned question is.

"dynamite, what are your thoughts on the new collaboration between, heroes and the local government officials?" he held out his voice recorder.

the crowd went mute, cocking their ears for his response, waiting... his crimson eyes filtered the room, flickering between everyone before they landed on you —in the far corner of the back of the room— smiling proudly, gesturing for him to answer the question.

"anythin' that keeps people safe 's a good thing." he starts, "my wife's always said that we needed to team up more, 'n she's smarter than you lot put together, so..." and shruggs, like its most obvious... you facepalm at his need to bring their ego down.

the reporters scribbled away in their notebooks and laptops, mumbling between themselves, some even giggling here and there, before he pointed to someone else.

"bakugo-san, what's your opinion on the rising popularity of the hero support courses in schools?" she asked, holding back a snicker, as she purposely asks a question where it'd be near impossible for him to mention you. or so she thought...

"support 's what keeps most of us heroes out there alive." he says, matter of factly, pointing to his gauntlets on the side of the podium, "my wife'd drill a hole in my head if i didn't give 'em credit. 'every cog in the machine matters' 'n whatever the hell else." he huffs, and your face heats up a bit, seeing him standing tall and proud up there, while he quoted your words.

the murmurs grew louder, as they placed their bets once again... someone raised their hand and stood to ask their question. "mr. dynamight, do you have any plans to expand your work internationally?" he adjusts his glasses, looking down to his clipboard, waiting for your husband's response.

he rolls his eyes, "yeah, eventually. what else would you expect when yer as good as me?" wait for it... "plus, my wife's been on my ass 'bout goin' to europe. says she wants to see paris too, 'n 'm not about tell her no." the crowd laughs, more amongst themselves than what the hero was saying. he could care less about what ever the fuck they were mumbling about and walked off the stage.

he's had enough. he answered a few of their questions like you'd asked and now he wanted his wife, so he stomped his way over to you, "did you have to insult them at the end of the first question?" you laugh, patting at his toned chest.

"insult 'em? i answered their question..." he pulled you in as you giggled, kissing you while he rubbed your waist. every camera zoomed in on you both and he reveled in the flashing lights, smirking into your lips as he dragged the kiss on and lifted your hand where the ring he put there shined. he wife'd you up why would he not show you off?

mlist!

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josephandrewstarkey · 4 months ago

Note

drew and reader have a toddler but they are broken up because reader thinks that drew and odessa are together. drew came to pick up the toddler and they start arguing over nothing because they miss each other so much.

ty for your request anon, i hope you like it!

second chances

warnings: slight angst

disclaimer: this is absolutely no shade/hate towards odessa, this is simply just for the plot <3

words: 1.036

❧ drew starkey x reader

The familiar sound of Drew’s car pulling up in the driveway sent a wave of tension through Y/N. She adjusted her grip on their toddler, Harper, who was happily babbling in her arms, blissfully unaware of the heavy silence that had settled between her parents for weeks.

It hadn’t been easy since the breakup. Y/N had thought she could handle it, but every time Drew came to pick up their daughter, the ache in her chest only grew deeper. It wasn’t just the end of their relationship that stung—it was the constant thought that he had moved on with Odessa. The rumors, the paparazzi photos, they all painted a picture that was too hard to ignore.

As Drew walked up the steps and knocked on the door, Y/N’s pulse quickened. She let out a slow breath and opened the door, greeted by the sight of him—his tousled hair, the familiar warmth in his eyes as he looked at Harper. For a moment, her heart faltered. Despite everything, seeing him still made her stomach flip.

“Hey,” Drew said softly, his eyes flicking to hers before focusing on Harper, who squealed with joy and reached out for him.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, handing their daughter over, careful to avoid letting their fingers touch. She couldn’t handle that right now.

Drew cradled Harper with ease, making her giggle as he kissed her cheek. For a moment, there was a pause, a heavy silence that neither of them knew how to fill.

“I’ve packed her bag,” Y/N said quickly, gesturing to the small backpack by the door. “Everything she’ll need for the weekend.”

Drew nodded, bouncing Harper slightly in his arms, though his gaze lingered on Y/N. “Thanks. I’ll have her back by Sunday night.”

Another stretch of silence filled the space between them, awkward and stifling. Y/N clenched her jaw, her mind swirling with all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t. She didn’t want to argue in front of Harper, but the frustration, the loneliness—it was all building inside her, begging to spill out.

And then it happened.

“So… how’s Odessa?” she asked, the words sharper than she intended, bitterness lacing her tone. She regretted it as soon as they left her lips, but the question hung in the air between them.

Drew’s brows furrowed, his hold on Harper tightening slightly. “What?”

Y/N crossed her arms defensively, her voice quieter now but still tense. “You two seem pretty close lately. The pictures... the rumors...”

Drew’s expression darkened, and he shifted Harper in his arms as she started to squirm. “Y/N, there’s nothing going on between me and Odessa. You know that.”

“Do I?” Y/N’s eyes flashed with hurt. “Because all I see is you spending more time with her than—”

“This again?” Drew interrupted, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re really going to bring this up every time I come here? You think I don’t miss you? Miss us?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the raw emotion in his voice catching her off guard. But she wasn’t ready to back down. “If you miss us so much, maybe you shouldn’t be cozying up to her in every photo.”

“I’m not cozying up to anyone,” Drew said, his voice rising slightly as he shifted Harper to his hip, trying to stay calm in front of their daughter. “I’m doing my job, Y/N. Odessa is a friend, and you know that. But you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. “I made up my mind because you didn’t fight for us, Drew. You let us fall apart.”

Drew’s jaw clenched, his gaze softening as he saw the hurt written all over her face. “I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t. But you keep pushing me away.”

“Because I can’t compete with her!” Y/N cried, her voice breaking. “I can’t compete with everything your world demands. It was always the two of us, and now... now it feels like I’m on the outside.”

Harper, sensing the tension, began to fuss, and Drew immediately began soothing her, rocking her gently. His eyes never left Y/N’s, though, filled with frustration, pain, and something else—something deeper.

“You’re not on the outside,” Drew said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re the one I love, Y/N. You’re the mother of my daughter, and you’re the only one I want. Odessa... she’s just a friend. That’s it.”

Y/N stared at him, her defenses crumbling as the weight of his words settled in. She wanted to believe him—God, she wanted to believe him so badly. But the pain of the last few months had built walls around her heart, and it wasn’t easy to just let them down.

“I miss you,” Drew whispered, his voice raw. “I miss us. This… this isn’t what I want. We’re a family, Y/N. I can’t keep doing this if we’re not going to at least try.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart aching as she looked at him, holding their daughter in his arms—their little family that felt so fractured. “I miss you too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Drew. I don’t know how to trust that it’ll be different.”

Drew stepped closer, his free hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. She didn’t pull away. “We fix it by talking, by being honest. Not by pushing each other away. Please… let’s try. For Harper. For us.”

Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks as she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. She felt the weight of his words, the sincerity in them. Maybe they could try. Maybe they could find their way back to each other.

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, filled with hope and longing. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s try.”

Drew let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his thumb brushing away her tears. “I love you, Y/N. That’s never changed.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, her heart finally beginning to mend.

And as Harper giggled between them, oblivious to the pain and healing happening around her, Y/N and Drew realized that maybe, just maybe, their family wasn’t broken after all.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey fic #rafe outer banks #my husband #drew starkey x reader #rafe obx #drew starkey smut #obx

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months ago

Note

Danny reincarnates as Tim's twin. The only problem is that his ghost powers act up in the womb from either the gross ecto in Gotham or an artifact that Janet handled while pregnant. Because of this only Tim is 'born', the Drake's either assume one was miscarried or never knew they were twins.

Tim meanwhile grows up with a brother his parents ignore more than him. It takes Danny an embarrassingly long time to realize what's going on and fix it but by then the twins are around 4 so can't really explain to the rest of Gotham.

When they become Robin, either Nightwing and Batman are almost convinced he's like Harvey with how many times they've found him talking and discussing plans with himself. Or with how bad their collective mental health was at that time think they're going crazy.

Only Alfred knows what's going on because he's Alfred.

Tim Drake is a strange child. Ever since he was little, he would point to empty air and interact with it as if someone was standing there and responding.

At first, his parents thought it was cute that he had an imaginary friend, and Mrs. Drake even shed a few tears when Tim proclaimed that it was the brother he had at birth. The second son of the Drakes had been growing healthy in her stomach until the very end of the first trimester when he simply vanished.

Not died, not stop growing- vanished as if he was never there.

The doctors and the Drakes had no idea what happened. Test after tests were done, but in the end, they could only conclude that the second baby was gone. It was theorized that Tim may have devoured his brother in the womb, though there had been no symptoms that Janet suffered from.

When Tim was born, Janet had nearly died with a false labor that happened only ten minutes after giving birth. The nurses and doctors had been panicking because they could not understand where the contractions originated. False labor was contractions during pregnancy, not after labor, so there was nothing the body could confuse for the urge to push.

They ruled it as a freak false labor since the only other match was Janet entering second labor. Still, as much as the nurses and doctors were ready for a monochorionic monoamniotic twin, nothing came out. Eventually, Janet passed out, and her body finally finished doing whatever it was doing.

It was no surprise that this experience ended up giving Janet postpartum depression. She tried to connect to Tim, but something in her just never clicked, and Jack was beside himself, trying to care for his child while his wife drifted further and further away.

A therapist suggested Janet return to work, which seemed to do wonders for her. She took part in multiple digs and went on many trips, but eventually, Jack felt like she was never home. Worried his wife wouldn't return to him, Jack jumped on a plane while leaving Tim in the capable hands of the housekeeper.

He said it would be a short trip just to get Janet to come back and get treatment.

Jack ended up helping at the dig site, extending his stay to his once again bright and loving wife. Seeing her back to her usual self led to him booking them another trip.

Then another, and another, and antoher. Before long, the Drakes rarely spent time in Gotham, and Tim grew bigger in their absence. Janet loved Tim, but seeing him only brought back guilt that she could not love him like other mothers could so quickly. She was so excited for their baby and had loved him with her whole heart while he was inside of her, but now, seeing those big blue eyes blink up at her, all Janet wanted to do was run.

She drowned in guilt, and sometimes, it felt that she was only breathing because Jack was there for her. He dragged her back to the surface only long enough to take a breath and be dragged under again.

She missed his first steps, his first words, and his first laugh. That's why hearing him call out to Danny was so jarring. She had stopped outside his room, carrying gifts in the form of toys, hoping they would make up for the fact that she had only seen him a handful of times for a solid year.

He was playing with blogs, babbling to "Danny." She had picked out the name of her other son when she found out she was having twins. The only person Tim could have heard that name from was the housekeeper.

Janet fired her after wiping her tears. She would hire a replacement that wouldn't mock her two-year-old son. She let Tim keep his imaginary friend, figuring he would outgrow it.

Tim didn't.

Over the years, Tim became increasingly convinced Danny was with him. He even started turning in classwork under the name Danny, and when a teacher would call him, he would respond with "I don't know. Tim is better at this than me."

Sometimes, when he acted out, Tim would be the one responsible. Tim was the one who got bored quickly in class, needed to be challenged more, and preferred to follow whatever hair-brain idea he had. Photography, skateboarding, and actual crime shows were what made Tim happy.

Then, he became Danny when he showed effort in school but struggled to keep his solid, slightly above-average results. This side of her son preferred astronomy and baking and seemed confused by their wealth. Almost as if he was new money instead of the old wealth the Drakes had. Janet also heard that Danny seemed to stick his nose in whenever a bully targeted a classmate, confronting them with a bravo she could not associate with Tim.

Tim was more like her. They dealt with their opponents through clever planning instead of confirmation, which Jack preferred. He talked to himself a lot, too. The Drakes weren't even in Gotham, but their family's whispers echoed through the gala halls anyway. As young Tim walked by, there were rumors and speculations.

The elites would gossip as Tim continued arguing that the decor was worth the money and that they couldn't steal it, no matter how much food it could buy people in their charities.

He whispers, yelling at the air as Janet watches from across the hall, her stomach turning with love and repulse.

Years after his birth, she could not bring herself to stand before him for too long. Jack followed because he worried she do something to herself if he didn't.

She could not deny it now that Tim was nine. Janet realized, after a while of reading reports involving her son, that he likely suffered from a split personality disorder. Seeing it in person was entirely different.

They'll likely have to have him instituted, and the thought almost has her throwing up. She wonders if she would have caught on faster had she been a better mother and been around.

She steels herself, crossing the room to speak to her son. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Jack has noticed and quickly tries to make an excuse to stop her. Fortunately, depending on who you asked, the men looking for an investor don't let their husbands go that easily, so she is clear.

"No, I won't ask him for an autograph!" Tim hisses, looking at the wall to his right as if someone were leaning against it with him. Janet's resolves wabble a little at Tim's pout. There is a short pause before Tim goes red. "I can't do that! Mr.Wayne is really protective of Richard."

Dread pools into her stomach as Tim's features shift, and a grin with a mad twist settles on his lips. "I already have all the pictures I want about him. My favorite is the one I took last night."

This can't wait. Janet loves her son; she does not care what anyone says that she doesn't, but she can't allow him to harm others. Stalking will eventually lead to harm; she knows it. Those are the early signs.

She opens her mouth, only for Tim to turn to her with a coldness she hadn't noticed he always regarded her with.

She had never seen joy on his face, so she had never had a chance to compare how he looked at her and Jack to how he looked at others. How he looked at Danny.

Janet feels everything in her freeze, and a tremble grows in her arms and hands. Trying to hide it, she drowns the glass of wine in her hand in one gulp but instantly regrets it.

The world become slightly hazy that alcoholic cause, and maybe it's been a long time since she last drank. She could have sworn she was seeing double for a moment, and an exact copy of her child was leaning on the wall behind Tim.

But that wouldn't make sense. Tim's eyes weren't green.

"Son." Jack's warm presence is behind her, placing a comforting hand on her back, and she can't bring herself to speak as her husband commands. He likely feels her trembles. "It's time to leave."

The second image of Tim flickers out of sight, and Janet walks out of the Wayne Gala, wondering if her son inherited his madness from her. Neither adult notices the soft thump of the backseat, nor do they pay much attention to Tim carefully buckling the air or how the blanket he keeps back there spreads itself across Tim's lap.

Janet falls into old habits, and instead of being up to what she realized that night, she convinces Jack to go to Guatemala. They are gone first thing the following day.

Tim watches them leave from the top of the grand stairway, his eyes glowing green in heavy judgment and ice that Janet would have felt in the coldest winter. Jack is chatting nonsense to fill the silence and keep Janet grounded, but when she peeks over her shoulder to the Manor, she spots Tim in the window of his room, watching them leave with a frown.

His green eyes are gone, and she feels a chill race down her spine. There is no way he could have run up the stairs, gone down four different hallways, and gotten to the window before they could get to the waiting car.

"Goodbye, Tim. Keep the house safe!" Jack says as he opens the car door for Janet, but he's talking in the doorway. Because that's where the grand stairway is. She hears her son respond but can't tell what he is saying.

She can only gaze upwards to where Tim waves at her while clutching the curtain. His mouth doesn't move. He isn't the one speaking to Jack.

Janet sits in the leather of the car, Jack beside her, holding her hand tenderly, and she rethinks about having Tim instituted. She should hire an exorcist instead.

When they get back, of course. The car pulls away from the driveway, and Janet does her best not to look back even as the door slams shut, as if the sound was meant to tell her never to return. She closes her eyes, holds her breath, and only lets it go when they are far away from Drake Manor and her son.

Maybe one day she can be a good mother.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The Twins #Janet's Pov #Tw: postpartum depression #tw: depression #tw: child neglect #Tim and Danny are twins but Danny is mentally older #He hates the drakes and Tim follows suit #Tim wishes his mom liked him like any other child though #Danny sometimes takes Tim's place #He chooses to stay invisible #Tim can see him though as a twin pwoer #Everyone thinks Tim is crazy and creepy

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