#But I don't know how I could have expressed it
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Confessing to you late at night when they think you're asleep
Now this HAS to be Cam 😚
You know it! I was going to make it clumsy, but I guess Cam wanted to go for the heartstrings today. (Below the cut~)
If it were anyone else, Cam would have complained about sharing such a small bed. But it wasn't. It was you. It had always been you.
You were pressed close against him, the little makeshift wall of pillows he'd carefully built between you long gone. He wasn't surprised - he might've been the culprit.
"I'm cold," he murmured, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close. It wasn't entirely a lie, though your body heat chased away the night's chill. The small apartment never had good heating, and you'd ended up in his bed more often than on the couch these days. Not that either of you minded.
You felt the brush of warm breath against your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. One of his legs shifted, slipping between yours, his foot hooking around yours as if it belonged there.
"Red…" he whispered, his hand hesitating before tapping your stomach. He sighed, and before you could turn to look at him he buried his face into the curve of your neck. Your pulse quickened at the closeness, the intimacy.
Then, barely audible, his voice wavered. "I don't know how much longer I can keep it from you," Warm tears slipped onto your skin as his body trembled against you. "I love you. I have for… for what feels like forever. Please, just…" He shook his head, his breath hitching as if the weight of his words threatened to crush him.
"Don't hate me. Because I can't fucking hold it in anymore. I feel like it's killing me. I loved you before Chris ever did. I loved you first. So much it hurts."
He took a shuddering breath, his voice barely holding together. "One day, I promise. I promise I'll tell you when you're awake. Just wait for me. Please, wait for me."
His lips pressed softly to your cheek before he started to pull his hand away.
But you couldn't let him.
The sound that escaped him was almost a sob when you grabbed his hand, keeping it firmly in place. "Red?" Fear laces his voice, thick and raw, and when you turned in his arms, his expression shattered what was left of your composure. His cheeks glistened with tears, his face a perfect portrait of anguish.
He tried to pull away, but your palm found his cheek, brushing away the wetness. His breathing slowed as your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
"I'm tired of waiting, Cam."
Whatever reply he had was swallowed by your lips, soft but insistent. Reassuring. You'd imagined this moment - what his lips would feel like, taste like. The hunger behind his kiss. But not this. Not the way his breath hitched, his hand trembling as he gripped yours. You never imagined he would feel like he might break apart in your arms.
"Say it again," you urged, your voice steady, grounding him.
"I love you," he breathed, the words no longer shaky. His kiss, no longer uncertain.
#love and leases#loveandleases#cam#i was working on a comm with cam i think thats why he went so... </3 (so fkn glad i noticed the mispell in this tag before publishing...)#i blame phasmo#im in no way bitter my ass got handed to me by 2 thaye in a row
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How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.
TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.
Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.
---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_
Bruce:
The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.
He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.
When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.
But you did.
He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.
Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.
You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.
He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.
He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.
He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.
You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.
When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.
You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.
You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.
He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.
---
Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.
He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.
He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.
He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.
He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.
Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.
He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."
Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."
When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.
Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.
You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.
You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.
When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.
Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."
---
Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.
But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.
It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.
He blames himself entirely.
He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.
After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.
He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.
The knives in the kitchen? Gone.
Even the butter knives are plastic now.
The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.
Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.
He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.
He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.
While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.
Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.
He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.
He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."
---
Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.
He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.
You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.
He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.
Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.
The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.
When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.
He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.
---
(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)
Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.
It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.
You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.
He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.
Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.
He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.
He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.
And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.
One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.
#x reader#headcanon#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#batboys#jason todd x you#dc comics#dick grayson imagine#plethorawrites#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x you#tim drake x reader#older damian wayne#damian wayne x you#bruce wayne headcanon#dick grayson headcanon#jason todd imagines#tim drake imagine#tim drake headcanon#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne headcanon
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Route 66
Flat tire… *Blowjob, swearing, Nicknames (darlin’. Etc.), cum swallowing, Oral (M)*
•Thank you to @ariestrxsh for helping me with this, I love you to the moon, your the absolute sweetest•
"Damn!" You exclaimed when you got out of your old, red mustang to find that your left front tire was flat while you were in the middle of nowhere on Route 66. You reached into the pocket of your Daisy Duke cutoff shorts to retrieve your phone, which of course, had no service. You started rummaging through the trunk of your car, hoping to find the tools you needed to change it even though you hadn't the first clue on how to do so.
Right as you were about to give up, a Chevy whose blue paint was peeling off the frame pulled off in front of you, the tires kicking up the dry dust as it stopped. "Hey, little lady. You got car trouble?" The blue-eyed man asked as he got out of his pickup truck, a toothpick dangling from his lips. You were traveling alone on a long stretch of road where there was nothing but dirt for several miles, so you were relieved to see another person.
"Yeah, I've got a flat," you pouted. "Don't worry, kid. I can change it for ya, the man responded with a smile and a wink. "You'd do that for me?" You asked, batting your eyelashes in his direction. "Only if you tell me your name, darlin', he replied, his voice sounding sweet and inviting like warm honey as he reached into the back of his pickup truck for his jack. You told him your name. "What's yours?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm Matt,' he told you, extending his arm. You placed your hand in his, giving him a dainty handshake.
"Thanks, Matt, you answered, your gaze lingering on his. You found yourself holding your breath as he took off his flannel and tossed it over his shoulder, revealing his strong, tattooed arms underneath. He started to loosen each bolt, his eyebrows furrowed into a concentrated expression while he toyed with the toothpick in his mouth. He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead before he started to jack up your car. You watched intently as he took the bolts off.
"Hold these for me, will ya?" He politely requested, handing you all five bolts to your tire. You reached out and took them from him, feeling the slight heat on the metal from the hot sun beating down overhead. You admired the definition in his bicep muscles as he pulled the tire off the axle with a grunt that made your stomach flutter. He wandered around to your trunk to retrieve the spare. "Still got those bolts on ya, baby?" He asked, gesturing for you come here with his fingers after he propped your spare in your wheel well. You swooned at him calling you baby. You nodded and sauntered over towards him with the bolts in hand. He half-tightened each individual one, lowered the jack, and finished securing the bolts once your tire was back on the ground. He put back his tools and threw your busted tire in the bed of his pickup truck. "I'll take care of that for ya," Matt replied, tipping his hat in your direction. It took him all of ten minutes to do something you didn't know how to.
"You have a nice day, darlin'. I'm glad I could help you out." He started to walk back off towards his truck. "Wait!" You called after him. He spun around, taking the toothpick from between his lips and pinching it between his two fingers. "Yeah?" He asked, flashing you his gorgeous smile. "Thanks again. I don't know what I would have done without you," you responded, nibbling on your lip. "Oh, shucks. You did the hard part. I'm always misplacing my bolts and screws, he winked at you before turning away to get back into his truck. "Wait!" You called after him once more. He turned around with a smirk tugging on his lip. "Yeah?"
"I'd love to repay you, Seriously. You saved me so much time and money, and you just did it out of the kindness of your heart, you said, reaching for your wallet to realize all you had were some crumpled up $1 bills and some loose change in your cupholder. "Exactly, kid. Kindness of my heart. I don't need anything in return, he declined your offer.
"Well, I wanna do something out of the kindness of my heart for you," you replied, taking a few steps closer to him. "Like what?" He wondered, raising an eyebrow as he placed the toothpick back between his lips. "Somethin' that might be a little harder to say no to," you told him, falling to your knees in front of him. "Oh, baby. You don't have to," he murmured but he didn't stop you as you started to fiddle with his belt buckle. "It would be my pleasure, Matt," you seductively responded, flicking your eyes up to meet his as you slowly undid his zipper and his button.
The ground was hot and dusty, but you didn't mind. The only thing that mattered to you was the way Matt looked down at you with a softening expression and lust in his eyes. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his pretty cock that was already starting to harden as you gently stroked it. You wrapped your lips around his swollen tip, gently running your tongue along the underside as you started suckling on it.
His eyes fluttered into the back of his head, and he leaned back up against his truck as you worked your mouth on all his sensitive nerve endings. His hands flew up to your head as he started smoothing down your soft hair in a sweet and loving manner. His touch was so gentle, like everything else about him. You slowly moved your lips down his length, listening to pretty sounds he made. You pumped his cock back and forth in your head and repeated the same motion with your mouth, watching his intoxicating reactions. "Oh, that's it, baby. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" He cooed, gently moving his hips back and forth and urging you to take a little more.
You gave him what he wanted, taking more of him behind your soft lips until his tip was in the back of your throat, eliciting a faint gagging sound. Your eyes started to water, but you kept going, bobbing your head up and down a bit faster. "You look so pretty, baby," Matt complimented you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and caressing your cheek with his thumb as he watched the way your lips stretched around his cock.
You loved the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, and the way he tenderly touched you. His grip on your hair grew tighter as he screwed his eyes shut in a look of pleasure, a slew of moans spilling from his pretty lips. His body tightened as he filled your mouth with his sticky, white substance, his cock twitching against your tongue as he finished.
You graciously swallowed and pulled him out from behind your lips with a quiet pop. His eyes fluttered open, and his gaze darted back down to you, still on your knees as you wiped a bit of cum from the corner of your smile. "My goodness, darlin'. You'll never have to pay for car trouble again with a mouth like that."
[©Slxt4chriss 2025 - You do not under any circumstance have the permission to copy the work I put out and must give credit if taken Inspo]
#©Slxt4chriss#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#fan fiction#fan fic#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo
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@grandpa-spooks You've been lied to about biological sex having nothing to do with manhood and womanhood.
I don't know if you remember the 1980s and 90s, but let's assume you don't.
We were learning that to be a woman we only had to be FEMALE a man only had to be MALE.
And that opened up a whole world of possibilties personal expression wise.
A woman can dress how she pleases, wear her hair how she pleases, she can have what interests and ambitions that she pleases, (as long as she's got the capability to do the things.)
It doesn't make a difference what anyone might think she should be doing.
She is a woman purely because she's FEMALE
And the same can be said for men, who need do nothing more than be MALE.
You could express yourself in exactly the same way that you do now, As a man if you're male, or a woman if you're female.
Trans people aren't anything new. But what they are still has everything to do with biological sex. That's where the dysphoria comes from.
And if there's no need for dysphoria. Then serious question here, what makes you a man or woman if not biological sex?
And if you call yourself non binary, why aren't you just your biological sex, but expressing yourself through androgyny?
Queer Theory wants to get rid of manhood and womanhood altogether.
(All to do with them saying that it's an invention of Capitalism, this is Marxism after all, used to make the family, which they want rid of as well, because private property is passed down through family lines. And to Communism/Marxism, Capitalism is 'Private Property Ownership '.)
It's moving in that direction by blurring the lines of what makes a man and a woman.
And it's doing so by planting the seed that it's separate from biological sex.
Gender expression is a performance, of course it is.
But with woman/girlhood (female) and man/boyhood (male) deep rooted in biology.
We're absolutely free to make that performance all our own, without affecting WHAT we are in bodily terms.
Queer Theory says that merely being women/girls or men/boys is just a performance a costume to take on and off at will, or even shed altogether as 'non binary'.
(That's what they want everyone to be.)
That's all that manhood and womanhood are? Really? Just playing dress up, a set of stereotypes to perform?
No They Are Not.
The Queer Theory Brigade are lying and they know full well that they're lying.
Root man/boyhood and woman/girlhood in biology and we get MORE freedom, not less.
Because there's nothing that we have to be except what we were born as.
The way we express it, all the ways there are of of being feminine or masculine and the even greater variety of androgyny.
Who's being tied down by that? Seriously?
Ain’t no way Trump just said the government would establish two genders: male and female, in his inauguration speech, and people are still trying to say that queer folks have no need to be scared 😭 fucking losing it
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You're fucked.
Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x gn!reader .ᐟ
warnings : smut is all i'm gonna say . . ( cockwarming, unprotected sex, semi-public sex )
tags,, @gongyoosgf @cybrasigilism @paulilvsremus
requested by anon! idk what the word count is..
( sighs..why did this take so long to finish..no proofread tho.. )
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The images on the big screen and some people pleading to release them said it all. You were wondering how people could be so stupid and still manage to get this far. As if seeing their pathetic and whiny ass wasn't enough, the person you were trying so hard not to see was here too. Even from his repulsive voice, you knew he was here. Technically he didn’t speak, it was just that his presence here made you uncomfortable the moment you heard him chuckling at the others.
You could tell by the way he looked around with his hair tucked behind his ear and how he enjoyed watching people embarrass themselves. Because that's how it was when you first started dating. He hadn't changed at all. The way he looks at people..how he puts his hands over his mouth..and that expression on his face when he sees someone familiar. You weren't sure if he saw you or not, your view was already limited and the number of people in front of you must have prevented you from being seen as well. After looking in your direction for a good minute, he crossed his arms and brought his eyes back to the big screen.
Oh, how you hated those looks of his. Realizing with your own eyes that he was here made your blood boil even more. You sighed, your situation here was about to become even more unbearable.
Some people had already split into groups before the games started, and you went to mingle with the crowd while praying you wouldn't see him. As you stare at people with your arms crossed, your eyes go to the sound of someone clicking their mouth. Your eyebrows furrow as you look indifferently at the person the voice is coming from. Nam-gyu, who was looking down at you with his head raised, had his hands lazily stuffed into his pockets and tilted his head slightly to the left, causing some of his hair to fall from his face. The tips of his lips curve upwards and lean slightly to the side. "Are you desperate enough to end up here?" "It's funny to think that you have the right to speak out because you're in the same situation." You throw the words back in his face without even letting him finish. He raises an eyebrow at you, giving you a judgmental look. But none of that applies to you; you already know what the fuck he is.
"Our little abstract's ego has never diminished, I see."
"This is coming from someone whose ego is bigger than his dick? Hah. Don't make me laugh."
"Shut the fuck up." You realized he was clenching his hand in anger, but you honestly didn't care. Talking to the being in front of you not only got on your nerves but also gave you a headache. You didn’t miss his voice one bit. As you search your eyes for people who seems at least better than others, you realize he's taking a stubborn breath. "What? Didn't you asked me nicely to shut up?" You could have sworn he rolled his eyes on impulse. That thing he always did when he was so done.
The tension in the atmosphere was starting to bother you, so you took a step forward, passing Nam-gyu and the other people. You were so unlucky because everyone you tried to talk to was either a complete moron or a snob. As the games started, they were pulling everyone to a different area. An area where there was a giant doll and everything else was completely..empty, the top was open and a scorching heat was hitting your face. A man who you hadn't noticed before stepped forward and shouted something about the danger of the game and how you would be eliminated. Even though you couldn't hear what he was saying very well, you chose to stay in the middle rows. The front and back could be dangerous.
When the giant doll standing at the end of the platform turned her head and started talking, you understood what the game was at that moment. The man who spoke earlier, player 456, is trying to guide the others in the front and that catches your attention, and you listen to him even though you would do your own thing. You knew that when the it was red light, you had to stay still. You stood a little to the side, making sure there was no one in front of you or behind you. Suddenly you heard a screaming coming from the front and the sound of a body hitting the ground. You witnessed people around you screaming and trying to run towards the back, even though it made you flinch, you didn't move an inch. You see everyone lining up as the man shoutsz, deciding that it's something you can't handle on your own, you join them.
You freeze when a familiar touch caresses your back.
"We met again, huh.."
"Are you thirsty for death?"
"I could eliminate you right here, right now, if I wanted to."
Your voice stopped when Nam-gyu said that. He chuckled as if he heard you swallow. As soon as you reached the end of the line, he pushed you away. He ran after you, causing the sand splashing on you. He nearly made you fall to the ground but you managed to keep your balance. You snapped at him loudly. "Hey! What was this for??" "Dunno, being a spoiled brat?" What did he imply by saying this? You guys already broke up and he was still deciding what you could and could not do..You noticed his fingertips tracing the corner of his lip, he didn't say anything else as he looked at you sideways. You'd like to talk about it, but not until you see the time is up.
As they lead everyone back into the room you were in before, your eyes searched his body. You weren’t going to forget what he did right away, he should have realized that what he did was childish but it was also something that put your life at risk. You took a step towards him when you noticed where he was,but it seemed like he had already found someone to hang out with before he went inside. You chose to let it go so as not to be stubborn any longer. "Ugh..man."
Ohh, great. As if it wasn't enough to make a lot of people suffer, now they make you to vote too.. To stay or leave here. If possible, you would prefer to stay here. It seemed more logical to you to leave with a larger sum of money. Until your ex appeared in front of you. The person you assumed was his friend behind him left to talk to others, while Nam-gyu clears his throat. You bite your cheek and glance at him, not really understanding why he came. He started talking to you, His voice was monotonous yet threatening. "You're gonna vote 'O', alright?" "Excuse me?" He approached you while sucking his teeth, supporting his waist with one hand. "You're gonna press 'O', otherwise.." He waited for you to confront him as his eyes took on a darker look. But you chose not to answer him, you knew he would only get angrier that way. "You're fucked." His voice was quieter, but you knew exactly why he spoke like that. He was trying to make you feel small underneath him.
When it was time to vote, you were actually both nervous and excited. Even if he hadn't come and threatened you, you would have still chosen to stay, but you had a strange feeling inside you. When you see that the path in front of you is empty and everyone is waiting for you to walk, you gulp unnoticed and walk towards the buttons. As your hand moves towards the tip of the buttons, your head slowly turns towards where your ex is.
You notice him making a circular motion with his hand as he smiles at you with his eyes. As Nam-gyu signals for you to press the button, your head turns back to the lights in front of you and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.
No. It doesn't feel right to press 'O'.
Especially after he came.
Your hand suddenly presses the button with the red light, and after waiting for the pink soldiers, you move to your side. Your eyes involuntarily turn to him. The moment your eyes met, it made you flinch. You frowned and shook your head slightly, trying to get your hair out of your face. You knew this wouldn't end well, but you weren't about to just do what he said. You were sure that they would be the side that won the vote. Why would people who are so greedy for money choose to go? And just as you thought, they were the winners. You followed your own path as you watched everyone take their places, but the sound of footsteps getting faster and louder stopped you in the middle of the room. With a curse under his breath, you were pushed roughly against the nearest bed rail, Nam-gyu practically hissing at you as he narrowed his eyes at you. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His hands around your neck made it hard to breathe, and when you try to move your head, he causes you to hit the metal behind you again. He looks down on you, dragging you under him. "You better talk before I fuck your brains out."
You had nothing to say to him, it was your decision anyway. When he sees a few people gathering around you, he takes his grip off you. "Fucking brat.." His voice was a whisper loud enough for you to hear it. You started to caress your neck, brushing your hair back with one hand as you cleared your throat. Before you can stand up and start walking, you hear a few people asking you if you're okay. "Yeah, I'm fine." You walked slowly to your bed as you followed his path to his own bed. You have to wait until everyone is asleep or when people are too busy to care about what you're doing.
And finally you get an environment where everyone is quiet. You slowly get up from your bed and tiptoe towards Nam-gyu's bed. The lights in the middle of the room were gently hitting your face, making your presence known, but when you looked from afar, he didn't look awake. You slowly got up onto his bed and covered your mouth with one hand, pressing one knee to the edge of the bed and started to climb onto him without making a sound.
Nam-gyu threw his head to the side, mouth slightly open and he let his hair fall onto the pillow. You weren't quite sure what to do exactly, but your eyes wandered to his bare neck. You swallowed, slowly bringing your hand closer to his face. You held on tightly to avoid making a sound when his lips suddenly curled upwards and grabbed your wrist, covering your mouth. 'Cause of his grip, your face fell towards his chest, your knees touching his waist. When you try to lift your head you feel his hands holding the back of your hair, pulling your head tightly he forces you to look at him. His voice was a heavy whisper. "And what were you exactly planning to do, huh?" All you could see in the darkness was his toothy grin and his eyes that looked like they were going to eat you alive. You tried to say something with your muffled voice, but his grip almost covered your nose too. You placed your hand on the sheets to balance yourself, your neck was in a very uncomfortable position and Nam-gyu wasn’t about to release you.
Seeing your helpless state, Nam-gyu's smile widens, a small giggle is heard from him. He lets go of your wrist until he's in a sitting position on the bed, not taking his eyes off you as he sucks on his teeth. "What? Did you suddenly become so shy?" You forget that his hand is still over your mouth as you shake your head to the side, and he grunts as if he’s thinking as he silently watches the sounds you make against his hand. He uses his free hand to pat his lap, your eyes darting to the side to make sure no one is watching but he suddenly pulls you into his lap. "You were always this stubborn..You don't know how to obey when someone tells you to do something." He throws his head to the side and speaks hoarsely, watching your hands fall to your sides as he adjusts your position.
You could pretty much guess how this was going to end.
You remained silent for a while, waiting for him to pull his hand away. He slowly pulls his hand away, smirking with his eyes. You let out a warm breath as Nam-gyu pulls his hand away, he watches you swallow as he wipes his went hand over your clothes. "..I knew I shouldn't have come." "Is that so?" His hands slid down to your hips, his grip tightening with each second. "Yeah." It was clear from your voice how you felt about him. He pulled you closer to him as your hands followed his fingers. "You are so damn annoying." "So are you?" "At least I'm not a spoiled brat." He could tell by your face that you were nervous, but sitting on his lap was making your body warmer.
"I fucking hate you." You hissed at him, letting out a shaky breath. Moving might not be a good idea, you were making enough contact with the tent beneath you. "Our feelings are mutual." He presses you tighter against him, making a moan escape your lips. "But your body seems to love me." His eyes met yours for a second. His ego was way too high right now. "Still." His thumbs lift your cardigan up, revealing your bare skin. He stops at the hem of your sweatpants, dragging his nails over your skin. You feel yourself squirm under his touch, his hands stopping you as you find yourself lifting yourself up. "You always care about your own pleasure, bitch." He pushes you towards his legs, making his own position more comfortable. He opens his legs slightly, revealing the wet spot created by his tent. He taps his leg against you while gesturing with his eyes for you to take off your sweatpants. Before you could open your mouth to refuse, his hands grab your sides and lower them. You squeal at the sudden hit of cold air on your skin, he grabs your back and pulls you closer to him. "I'll be the only one enjoying this night, not you." You could see the precum on the tip of his cock as he used his leg to lift you up a little and lower his down.
Before you can prepare yourself, his hands are on your waist and he lifts you up, placing you on the tip of his cock. "Wait-" "Shush." "But-" "Fucking hell." His voice was loud enough to shut you up. You had already taken him in without even realizing it. As your hands reach out to grab him, he stops you by grabbing your wrists with one hand, keeping you in place with the other hand by holding your wrists in the air. You begin to feel your body shaking, his hand moving from your waist down to your belly as you resist moving yourself. You bite your lip as his thumb presses against your belly. You shouldn't make a sound. As you digs his nail more into your skin, you tilt your head down, causing your hair to fall out. A few purring moans escape your mouth as your hands tremble in the air. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, and it was obvious he was enjoying it. His eyes don't leave your body as a few breathless moans leaves his lips.
All he did was hold you in place as you cursed at him under your breath so you could move. "What, you didn't like your punishment?" When you heard the word punishment, your body involuntarily began to squeeze him even tighter. He whistled lowly and brought his face closer, feeling his breath next to your ear causing you to lift your head slightly.
"Your voice is so fucking annoying..god, wish I could make you lose your voice."
His voice was muffled and sounded like he was holding himself back. When he doesn’t get an answer from you, he throws your wrists aside and forces you to look at his face with his grip. "Cat got your tongue? Or are you embarrassed that the person you hate is fucking you?" "S-shut..up.." You want to speak to him through your teeth, but his grip prevents you from doing so. When you feel his hips start to move, you quickly bring both of your hands towards your mouth. You wouldn't want anyone to see this, do you? He releases his grip on you and moves one hand to the sheets next to him, so as not to lose his position. When he starts to move, tears start to flow from your eyes, and because you weren't prepared, the pain overwhelms the pleasure. You feel your body shaking as your face falls slightly towards his shoulder. You realize that your body is trying to follow his rhythm, even if it's unintentional. As his rhythm quickens, the sound of your skin hitting each other starts to get louder, and even though the feeling of embarrassment didn’t make your body any hotter, doing it with him made you angry at yourself.
Tears were now starting to flow down your cheeks, Nam-gyu noticing that his shoulder was starting to get wet, placed his hand behind your head again to pull your head up. "I'm not your boyfriend whose shoulder you can cry on anymore." You find yourself suffocating as you swallow, your eyes refusing to stay open and you’d have already lost your balance if it wasn't for his grip.
As the press continued to roll, his insults at you continued, about what a whore you were and how you didn’t even deserve his dick. "No one deserves your body, you fucking know that?" You couldn't decide if what he said was jealousy or anger, your only concern was not passing out. He didn't slow down at all, even though your face was covered in sweat and you couldn't fix your breath. You could feel him finishing inside you but he didn't seem to stop. His grip was moving down to your neck as you were trying to pull yourself together. "If I had lost my temper so easily, you wouldn't be here right now." Your eyes are tightly closed and your mouth is half open as you follow his rhythm while your legs try to support you. "T-that's enough..ah- didn't you finish already..?" "Not enough to satisfy myself." You swallowed hard after feeling another orgasm inside you, you tried to lift yourself up thinking he would stop, you opened your eyes slightly, trying to look at his face. He was biting the corner of his lip lightly while his hair was stuck to his face and cheeks. He paused for a moment and slightly opened the front of his cardigan. When he looked at you with that smirknon his face, you wanted to cry with anger.
"You're not going anywhere unless I'm fucking satisfied."
"..Fuck you."
"You'll have to save that for next time."
#why tumblr didn't add my tags at first wtf#player 124#nam gyu#squid game#nam-gyu#squid game 2#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#nam gyu x reader#imagines#squid game smut
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Being Domestic With Logan
Just some ramblings of everyday life with logan,
lazy mornings waking up in each others arms, half asleep, muttering good mornings, logan kisses your shoulder, before pushing himself out of bed
brushing your teeth together. You both are still asleep, bedhead all over the place. You're wearing one of his shirts, he pulled on a pair of sweats (Wait, does logan actually need to brush his teeth? wouldn't cavities heal over? how does bad breath work)
cleaning, either you do it together, or you take turns. just going around the house and vacumnning, doing dishes, dusting.
logan cutting the grass if you guys have a house with a lawn (ooh, sweaty logan, doing yard work? imma faint)
this is gonna sound gross but bear with me- becoming comfortable enough with each other to talk while one is on the toilet. CMON COUPLES DO IT ALL THE TIME. at least talking through the door?? logans 200 years old, i don't think much grosses him out anymore
you're watching funny videos while logan doing his own thing, youre giggling and kicking your legs at the stuff you're watching, and logan ends up watching you and admiring how happy you are
quick pecks on the lips as you both as busy with your own stuff
dancing when you're alone together, in the kitchen, in your bedroom, the halls of the mansion- wherever, whenever
he doesn't let you carry anything heavy- as much as you insist your fine.
booking vacations together, swiping through your phone at cabin rentals, as he and you point out the things you like at each cabin you find
dates. just regular dates. to the movies. to fairs. a simple walk in the park. nothing grand- but something that you both appreciate having the time for. logan prob isn't huge on pda but he loves to hold your hand or your hip and show everyone that your his and hes yours
cooking together- and ending up arguing bc honestly you're both too much of a control freak in the kitchen to relinquish control over food. either one of you is in charge and the other just hands them the ingredients, or the other is banned from the kitchen till dinners ready
just existing in the same space. I def believe logan is a snugglebug even if he wouldn't admit it, but sometimes you're both doing your things and just knowing the other is near can be enough
That said seeking each other after a certain amount of times passes to get a few smooches and cuddles in
logan walking by while youre watching tv and he just stops and leans over you from behind the couch, complete deadpan expression until you tip your head up to look at him, and he leans down and kisses you, pecking your lips over and over until hes satisfied, moving away and going to get his beer
These are just a FEW I could think of. I mean, the mans 200 years old. I think the only time he probably lived something domestic-like is with kayla (ugh). give him a quiet soft life where the most pain in the ass thing to deal with is bills. (Unless you live in the mansion, then charles pays for everything lol) let him have quiet ordinary days!! get him out of the cycle of violence and stress!!
let him and you be in love and you spoil him and spoil him and spoil him over and over until he doesn't even remember what it was like to NOT be spoiled with affection and treats and all the things he likes and wants.
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Unbeknownst to them, the rumor of them looking for Tim and speculation on why exactly they're doing so after so much time has passed spreads quickly through the league and the younger heroes. While each of those teams are known to work with the Bats and they usually have one as a team mate, they're not blind and they have seen the way things went down after Batman came back from the time stream. Some (Superman, Wally, Jon, maybe?) want to believe they finally realized how important Tim is to their family and want to reconnect.
Most of the others are skeptic and have (correctly) assumed they need Tim for something and are intending to pull him back into their parasitic (?) dynamic where Tim gives and gives and they take without giving anything back. Tim is finally moving on. Happy. They're not about to compromise that for the sake of the bats. Not after he put them before his own life and well being for years and years without them truly realizing.
It takes a week for them to hear back from Tim. However, when they finally get the call from a blocked number it isn't Tim on the other side.
"Tim? We were worried about you? Where have you been?" Dick answers but puts the phone on speaker, Bruce, Damian and Alfred present in the room.
"and why exactly are you trying to contact Tim right now?" Ma Kent's voice is colder than they've ever heard before. "Tim changed his number months ago. What exactly are you worried about?"
"Um... We..." Dick starts, sheepish and not sure how to continue without looking like a jerk.
"Where is Tim? Why isn't he calling us?" Bruce interrupts with his usual tact. Ma isn't having it.
"That's not how this works. Either answer my question or I'll hang up and make sure no one else gives you Tim's information. You might be detectives but even you won't be able to pass through all the layers of security that boy and his friends have put up as a precaution."
"He... Gave Bruce some advice that helped get the family back together we were hoping that he could..." Dick started.
"Go back to fixing your messes without ever getting anything in return? Talk Bruce out of his bullshit like he's the child instead of a full grown adult?" They stay silent, knowing Ma has a point. "That's what I thought. You know, anyone else in your situation would look for a therapist instead of relying on an emotional support child to get you through life. You didn't even notice when he left, did you?"
"I..." Dick is not sure how to finish his sentence. Damian looks bored and like he'd rather be anywhere else. Alfred has a deep frown on his face but it doesn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular. Bruce... Bruce has completely shut down. His face is pale, stuck in a neutral expression while his eyes are glassy and focused on a random point in the wall.
"Like I said. You're not getting close to that boy if you're just going to keep using him. He got out. Respect that. If you don't, I'll make sure someone keeps you in check. He has a lot of people at his back and even more who owe him favors. You don't want to try me." With that, Martha Kent hangs up the phone.
Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.
It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.
So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.
Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.
It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.
Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.
He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.
He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.
God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.
Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?
He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?
He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?
He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?
Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.
And Tim?
Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.
Bruce changes, but not everything can.
That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.
#me: I want happy endings and for the bats to be happy#also me: angst :3#kinda feel like the girls aren't present because they did notice when Tim left and have kept in contact with him#while sort of distancing themselves from the bats who didn't notice because they moved away from Gotham and still call/visit every so often#kinda want Damian to have reconciled with Tim a while ago in one of their visits to the Kent farm when they overlapped#So Tim sees Cass as his big sister and Damian as his little brother but that's it#which is also why Damian didn't comment on anything and has stayed out of everything Tim. Bruce and Dick assume he still hates Tim though
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kiss it better
sukuna x reader
when your ex shows up unexpectedly, your boyfriend reminds you exactly who you belong to
wc: 4.5k
partly based on a true story </3
content: brief mention of emotional abuse (not from sukuna), slight anxiety, spanking, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering, dom/sub dynamics kinda, general filth, cutesy aftercare (!!!)
18+ please i block children <3
you're out with sukuna and your mutual friends, laughter spilling out in waves as you all shuffle into the restaurant. the place hums with energy, clinking glasses and soft murmurs blending with bursts of hearty laughter. you take your seat across from him, his gaze settling on you with an intensity that's both comforting and unreadable, a subtle reassurance of his presence.
everything feels easy at first. the conversation flows, the food comes out steaming and fragrant, and you're immersed in the warmth of the group. gojo is mid-story, grinning mischievously as he leans forward. "last week, utahime tried to parallel park for like… twenty minutes. twenty. minutes."
"shut up, gojo," utahime snaps, her glare piercing. "the space was tiny!"
"the space could have fit a truck," gojo says, holding back laughter. "there was a crowd cheering her on by the time she finished."
"at least i didn't hit anything," utahime fires back. "unlike you last month."
"let's not get sidetracked. this is about you," he retorts with a wink.
"you're insufferable," she mutters, crossing her arms.
"you're both ridiculous," you say, grinning and shaking your head as you take a sip of sukuna's drink. the banter swirls around you, warm and familiar.
and then you catch sight of someone two tables down. your breath catches before you can stop it, heart stumbling over itself as your ex-boyfriend's gaze locks onto yours for the briefest second. you look away quickly, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation surrounding you. you don't say anything.
you lean over to sukuna, your voice low to keep from interrupting the group's laughter. "have to pee. i'll be back in a minute," you say. his eyes flick to yours, searching, and his hand lightly squeezes your arm.
when you enter the bathroom, the mirror glares back at you as you lean forward, palms braced against the sink, eyes burning. flashes of the past hit you—the way he would twist your words, make you question your own reality. the nights he'd pick fights out of nowhere, his voice cutting sharper than any blade. how you'd leave arguments feeling like you'd done something wrong, even when you hadn't.
your breath stutters as you force the memories back, swiping liner and gloss across your lips to steady your shaking hands. a quick touch-up, a calming breath, and you're heading back out.
sukuna notices immediately. of course he does. his eyes linger a second too long as you settle back into your seat, the faint crease of his brow betraying his concern.
recognition sweeps his expression when he looks toward the table where your ex sits. he knows exactly who the man is and what he's done to you, knows the full weight of the memories you carry, cradled you through them long before this relationship even started. his jaw tightens, and his fingers drum once on the table.
choso, observant as ever, notices and leans in slightly, his voice low and steady as he murmurs, "focus on her, not him." sukuna's shoulders relax just a fraction. he smooths his features back to their usual calm. he doesn't say anything as he grabs your hand over the table, just looks at you reassuringly. he’ll let you talk about it if you want to, the way he always has.
+++
it’s easy to lose yourself in the night as it goes on. the group hops from one bar to another, each stop adding to the warmth in your chest. sukuna is at your side, doting on you in ways that feel instinctive. he’s making sure you have snacks, that your drink is always topped off, even pulling you onto the dance floor for the songs he knows you love.
"come dance with me," he requests, extending his hand toward you as a new song starts. his smirk softens as he leans closer, his voice quieter now. "come dance with me," he murmurs, his tone steady, almost reassuring. "i've got you."
his demeanor leaves little room for argument, and you let him guide you to the floor, his touch warm and steady. it's impossible not to laugh as he spins you around, his moves teasing but surprisingly smooth, pulling you further into the moment.
"did you see her moves?" gojo teases as you both make your way back to the group after a few songs, breathless and laughing. "i think you might have a future in interpretive dance."
"shut up," you giggle, swatting at him.
sukuna smirks, handing you a glass of water. "ignore him. he's jealous he can't keep up."
"jealous? of that?" gojo shoots back with mock indignation, throwing a hand over his chest. "please, i'm a national treasure."
"you're a national headache," utahime mutters, sipping her drink. "but at least you're consistent." the group erupts into laughter, the warmth of their camaraderie making you forget everything else. the food, the drinks, the jokes that make your cheeks ache from smiling so much. you're happy, you realize.
at the third stop of the night, your phone buzzes. you glance down and see a text. from an unsaved number that you recognize too quickly.
so u not gonna say hi?
you're drunk now, and the edges of your vision blur just slightly as you try to focus on the words. your stomach twists, the alcohol amplifying the unease that settles heavily in your chest.
but you school your features, slipping the phone back into your pocket with a shaky hand. it's a problem for tomorrow. you're not going to let it ruin this night.
+++
the following day, everything's back to normal. sunlight spills through the windows as you lounge on the couch, nursing a slight hangover in sukuna’s shirt and panties, watching some shitty reality tv that's more noise than entertainment.
the text from last night barely crosses your mind. it feels like a distant, unimportant thing. sukuna's in the next room finishing up some work. your phone is in there with him, left charging on his desk. you haven't even thought to check it.
his voice calls you in, low and casual. "c'mere," he says, leaning back in his chair with an air of effortless confidence. you step into the room and he's waiting, one arm over the armrest, the other reaching out to pull you closer.
"took you long enough," he begins, looking up at you with a faint smirk. "thought you forgot about me."
"it's only been a minute, ‘kuna" you counter softly, letting him draw you in. his grip is firm but not demanding, his touch grounding as ever.
"i love you, you know that?" he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing along your jaw, smiling when he feels your nod.
"you're mine," he says, the words low and sure, not a demand but a statement, a claim. his lips press against your jaw, praise slipping out between kisses. "you're fucking perfect, and you're all mine."
a tension you hadn't recognized before snaps, his movements losing their gentleness as he claims your attention completely, the air electric with the shift.
his hands guide your movements until you're bent over the edge of the bed, your breath hitching in anticipation. he runs fingers up your spine, his touch making you shiver.
a hand comes down hard against your ass, the slap echoing in the silence, pain blooming under his palm. it catches you off guard, a yelp escaping as your body jerks, reflexes scrambling to process the sudden sensation. the sting fades quickly, leaving a deep warmth in its wake.
you can hear him chuckle behind you. his fingers trail lightly across the redness on your ass. "so responsive."
a hand rests at the small of your back, warm and steady, before another sharp, unexpected sting blossoms against your skin. this spank is harder than anything he's ever given you before.
"what—" you start, but your words falter as heat spreads through you.
he leans down, his voice low and smooth in your ear. "the text," he states, his tone calm but laced with unmistakable authority. he pulls your phone into your line of sight, the screen lighting up with the message you didn't open. "you weren't going to tell me?"
"it wasn't important," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.
"hmm," he muses, his palm sliding over the curve of your ass, soothing the spot he spanked. the motion makes you tense, a hint of nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach now.
"he's nothing," he says harshly. "you don't hide things from me. especially not about him. you know that." his words make your breath catch, the atmosphere shifting to something unfamiliar. the air between you crackles, his possessiveness undeniable and exhilarating.
he connects a hand to your ass again, a sharp slap that sends another spark of pain through you. he keeps a steady rhythm, strikes coming hard and fast. the ache builds, his palm leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
you can't help the noises that escape your throat or the tears that prickle at the corners of your eyes.
a sob slips out, and his hand pauses. his other hand slides up your side, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"you're okay, pretty baby," he soothes, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness just moments ago. his lips press against the small of your back.
"'m sorry, 'kuna," you sniffle.
he hums, his hand rubbing over the redness on your ass, the sensation making you whimper. "i know."
your body moves instinctively as he soothes your ass and admires his work, pressing back against his crotch as a new sensation washes over you, an intensity that feels raw and real.
"fuck," he groans. the sound makes heat pool low in your core, the ache building as the pain bleeds into something more, a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort that leaves you desperate. "you take it so well," he praises. "everything i give you."
his hand slips between your legs, brushing over your clothed clit. a spark shoots through you as you inhale sharply, pleasure coiling at the contrast between the sting of his hand and the tenderness of his fingers.
you can hear the smirk. "and you're soaked," he says, his voice laced with approval. "did that turn you on?"
"y-yes," you manage, barely above a whisper.
he chuckles darkly, his breath hot on the back of your neck as he pushes your shirt over his head and starts pressing kisses down your spine.
you whimper, your mind struggling to process as the sting lingers and desire ripples through you, the contrast delicious.
he kneels behind you, pressing kisses to the welts now forming on your ass. his tongue is soft against the sore, sensitive skin as he strokes over your panties, gentle at first, then more insistent. you exhale, leaning into his touch. the contact is maddeningly light, and it's not enough.
"more, 'kuna," you gasp.
"you'll take what i give you," he replies, his tone unyielding.
the words send a shudder through you. the ache in your core is so intense that it's almost painful, your body throbbing with need.
his fingers trace the lace edges of your panties, slipping under the fabric to feel your soaked pussy. the touch makes you moan, your hips arching as you press back onto his hand.
"is this what you need?" his voice is low, his touch gentle as he slowly slips two fingers into you.
"yes," you gasp, grinding against his hand. his thumb presses down on your clit, and it's too much. "please," you pant. "i need it. please, 'kuna"
his hand lands on your ass again, the crisp slap followed by the sound of your yelp. "you're going to cum on my mouth," he instructs. "and if you're good, i'll let you cum on my dick."
your heart thuds at his words. he pulls your panties down, exposing your dripping cunt.
he turns so his back is to the bed with you still bent over the edge. his face dips between your legs and he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs, pulling you onto his face. he wastes no time licking a broad stripe over your cunt. his grip on you tightens as he groans, the vibration sending a jolt through you.
"'kuna," you whimper, pressing down against him, needing more. he laps at your cunt hungrily, his tongue dragging over your clit, and you can't help the loud moan that escapes your throat.
he spreads you open for himself, fingers grazing the swelling pink welts as he slurps at your dripping pussy. he's sucking your clit and fucking into you with his tongue, the pleasure overwhelming. the sound is filthy, and it only adds to the ache building inside of you.
"fuck, 'kuna," you gasp. "please don't stop."
he hums and presses a finger into you, and you gasp, clenching around him. his lips close over your clit, sucking as he slides another finger in, pumping them slowly.
"oh fuck," you moan, gripping the bedsheets. his slow pace is unbearable, and your hips buck, searching for more.
his grip on you tightens as he pushes deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur.
"fuck," he groans, pulling away. "always taste so fucking good."
your eyes squeeze shut. "please," you moan.
"please what?" he asks, and you can hear the mocking grin on his face.
"please let me cum," you gasp.
he pauses his movements and you whimper.
"do you deserve to cum?" his voice is low, almost a purr.
you whine, your head spinning. you don't know how to answer, and his hand comes down, the sound ringing out and stinging your already sore skin.
"i asked you a question."
"i don't kn—"
"yes, you do," he cuts in, his tone firm. "always such a perfect girl for me. you deserve to cum."
he picks up his pace and the pressure builds, the ache coiling deep inside of you as you grind down against his mouth, chasing the pleasure.
his fingers curl, hitting that spot over and over until your vision blurs and the room spins. the heat is intense, and the pleasure coils so tight you feel like you're about to explode.
"fuck," he breathes, his lips brushing over the spot where your thigh meets your pussy. "such a pretty little thing when you're desperate. want you to cum all over my face."
he sucks at your clit again, maintaining the steady pace of his fingers, and you're right at the edge. you feel his lips turn up into a smile against you, and he curls his fingers, hitting that spot again.
"cum for me, pretty baby."
"i'm gonna — 'kuna, i'm—"
his hand comes down again, landing with a slap. the feeling tips you over the edge and your words falter as the orgasm hits, bliss crashing over you, your thighs clamping down around his head. it's intense, your muscles spasming as time slows. his biceps flex as he holds you in place, and he keeps working his fingers, his pace never slowing despite the way you clench hard around him.
he doesn't let up, his tongue lapping at your oversensitive cunt, his fingers continuing their assault.
"wait, wait," you gasp. "'kuna, please, please, i can't—"
"you can," he says, his voice a low growl.
the tension in your core is so tight that it's almost painful, each brush against your clit making you shudder.
"that's it, sweetheart," he breathes. "fuck, i can feel you getting close again." his words send a rush of heat through you, and he doesn't let up, his touch driving you mad.
"c'mon, sweet girl," he coaxes. "be good for me."
your toes curl, and a moan rips from your throat, the tension snapping as another orgasm hits. the sensation is intense, fire licking at every part of your body.
his tongue slows, dragging over your folds lazily. he presses a few soft kisses there before he pulls back. he grins with slick lips, lifting you onto the bed from underneath.
you're trembling, barely able to move as he turns you on your back, sliding a pillow under your head. the room is spinning slightly and your limbs are heavy, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.
he lays next to you, studying you as you catch your breath, face caught somewhere between lust and obvious concern.
"okay?" he asks softly.
you nod. "just... need a minute.
he gives you space, stroking your hair, feeding you water from the bottle by the bed and cooing when it dribbles down your chin.
once your breathing returns to normal, you look at him to find that his expression has changed again, something predatory creeping into the lines on his face.
"who do you belong to?" his voice is steady, his tone unwavering.
"you," you breathe.
"say it."
"i'm yours," you say, meeting his gaze.
"again."
"i'm yours, 'kuna."
"mine," he repeats, his fingers sliding into your hair and gripping tight. "all mine."
your breath catches as his lips crash into yours. the kiss is hot, urgent. you whimper against him, the sound muffled, and he breaks away, leaving a trail of bites along your jaw. his hands are firm on your body, and his touch burns, the ache building again.
"tell me how bad you want it," he says.
"need you," you gasp as he moves down to suck on a nipple, and he chuckles.
"not good enough."
he presses a hand against the base of your neck, fingers splayed. his grip isn't tight, but the threat of his strength is undeniable.
"what do you need, sweetheart?"
"need you to fuck me," you reply, face burning hot with shame. "please."
he smirks, pupils blown wide with lust.
"so polite," he says, his voice thick with arousal. "my sweet girl."
he stands and sheds his clothes, the fabric landing in a pile on the floor before he gets back on the bed to kneel before you.
he's rock hard and your mouth waters as he wraps a hand around his dick. his grip is firm and his strokes are quick and smooth, his tip leaking.
"i'll give you what you need," he says, his eyes locked on yours.
"thank you, 'kuna," you whisper.
"you're welcome, pretty baby," he murmurs.
he studies you, shifting forward to run his tip over your swollen clit. the touch is gentle, making your back arch, a whine escaping your throat.
"shh," he coos, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your face.
"'m sorry," you whimper.
he shakes his head, his expression softening. "no need," he comforts, shifting closer, lining himself up with your entrance. "let me make you feel good."
you can't respond, the words lost as he pushes into you. the stretch is eased by your previous orgasms, but the weight of him makes you moan, the sound low and guttural.
he pauses, letting you adjust, his breath catching as your cunt flutters around him. "fuck, there we go," he says, his voice thick. "take me so well."
he shifts, wrapping his arms around your torso, his thrusts slow and deep. his movements are deliberate, and each push feels like heaven. his touch is tender, his kisses soft, his body warm and comforting against yours.
he pushes the hair away from your face, soothing you as you start to lose yourself in his arms.
"my sweet girl," he coos, pressing kisses to your face. "so good for me."
he rolls his hips, each stroke slow and deliberate. the drag of his dick against your walls is exquisite, and the friction sends a shock of pleasure through you, your back arching, eyes rolling back.
"'m yours," you whimper.
he kisses along your jaw, his touch firm but gentle, his praise steady.
"so beautiful," he rasps.
"'m yours," you repeat.
"yeah, sweetheart," he breathes. "all mine."
"yours," you whisper.
"and i'm yours," he says. "only yours."
you're shaking, the words making your heart pound.
"i love you, 'kuna," you whisper, meeting his gaze with teary eyes.
"i love you too, sweet girl" he replies, his voice hoarse.
"so good to me," you mumble, burying your face in his neck.
"always," he replies.
he keeps his pace steady, his thrusts shallow and slow, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple. you feel safe like this, wrapped up in his arms, his steady thrusts making you tremble.
"'m close," you whimper.
"i got you," he breathes. "let go, sweetheart. let go for me."
your eyes slide closed, his words pushing you over the edge, the pleasure white-hot and intense, his touch anchoring you. the orgasm is drawn out by his slow movements, and he doesn't stop, fucking you straight through it.
"fuck," he groans. "so fucking good."
he leans back suddenly and puts your ankles on his shoulders. the angle allows him to push even deeper, and the shift makes you moan loudly, his thrusts harder and faster now. his movements are measured, his gaze locked on yours, the intensity between you palpable.
"tell me who you fucking belong to," he demands, his voice rough.
"you, 'kuna," you gasp.
"who the fuck's making you feel good?"
"you," you pant, the sound broken and raw.
"fuck," he groans, his pace picking up, his thrusts faster now, his movements more erratic. "so fucking perfect."
the words make you whimper, and you squeeze around him, the pressure making him moan.
you feel your mind go blank. the only thing you know is his touch, his command, the feeling of him filling you.
"'kuna," you gasp.
"i know, pretty baby," he breathes.
his hips slam into yours, his grip around your thighs unforgiving, his pace brutal now, the room filled with the slap of skin on skin.
he watches the hearts form in your eyes, that distant stare, the look of blissed-out submission. his gaze is intense, lips turning up in a feral grin.
"there's my good girl," he growls, his voice dripping with pride. "fuck, look at you, taking my cock so fucking well. my perfect little slut."
you clench around him with a dazed smile, his words sending a jolt through you. the coil in your core is tightening, the ache so strong that it almost hurts.
"'kuna," you whimper.
"that's it," he growls. "such a good girl."
he pounds into you, his movements relentless, his grip tight.
you’re not thinking, only able to focus on the sensation of his dick inside you.
"'s too much," you gasp.
"no, sweet girl," he replies. "you can take it. be good for me."
your hands reach for his face. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his hips moving in sharp, deep thrusts. the change in position has your thighs up against your torso now, the force of his thrusts almost bruising.
"p-please," you stutter.
"just a little more," he breathes, his thrusts slowing slightly.
"fuck," you gasp, your nails digging into his skin.
"come on, sweet girl," he coaxes, his pace picking up again.
you squeeze around him again and he moans, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering. he shifts, adjusting so his lips are pressed against your ear.
"love watching you take me," he pants. "my perfect girl."
his words send a shudder through you, and the coil in your core threatens to snap.
"'m gonna — 'kuna," you stutter, and another orgasm crashes over you, your vision blurring.
"yes," he hisses, his movements losing their rhythm. "fuck, fuck."
his grip on you tightens as his own climax hits. his eyes roll back, and he thrusts into you twice more. he groans into your neck, his movements slow now, the room filled with the sound of his moans, your soft whimpers. his chest is heaving, and his arms are shaking slightly.
"i love you, sweet girl," he tells you, kissing your face.
"i love you, too," you whisper, voice cracking.
"you're everything, my love."
"always gonna be yours, 'kuna," you sniffle, and he presses another kiss to your forehead.
he holds you for a moment, silence enveloping the room as his heart rate slows, the sound of his breath quieting. he pulls out slowly, and a rush of warmth pools between your legs. his cum drips from you, the sensation making you blush.
"don't move," he murmurs, sliding off the bed and heading into the bathroom.
the sound of running water drifts from the open door, and a moment later, he returns carrying a damp washcloth. he gently wipes the sticky mess between your legs, the cloth soft against you.
"thank you, 'kuna," you murmur, and he kisses your forehead before tossing the cloth onto the pile of clothes on the floor.
the intensity is gone now. the room is quieter, but your senses remain heightened, details amplified in the aftermath. sukuna shifts into a softer rhythm, the sharp edges of his earlier demeanor melting away entirely.
he moves with care, his fingers brushing damp strands of hair from your face with tender precision. his touch is grounding, his presence an anchor as he steadies you.
"didn't hurt you too much, did i?" he asks, his voice low and filled with a quiet vulnerability. his thumb grazes your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring as his eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort.
"no," you manage, your voice soft and your lips turning into a small smile. "i'm okay."
his shoulders relax visibly, and a faint smile tugs at his lips as he leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. "good," he whispers, his breath brushing against your skin. "you're everything to me, you know that?"
he shifts carefully, reaching for the blanket draped at the edge of the bed and wrapping it around you. he pulls you against his chest, his arms encircling you in a protective hold, his steady breathing matching the rhythm of your own as it slows.
"you did so good," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the room. "always so good for me." his lips press against your temple, his praise flowing steadily, each word deliberate and grounding. his hand moves gently along your back, his touch careful, as though reminding you of his devotion.
you feel tears burning in your eyes, not from negativity but because of how loved you feel, have always felt, by him. a few trickle down your cheeks, and his grip tightens slightly.
his heart pounds and you can feel the way his chest rises and falls as his breathing hitches, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. he knows exactly how much you need him.
"'m right here, sweetheart. you're safe," he says softly, his tone carrying the certainty you need. he rocks you back and forth slightly. "i've got you. always."
your senses gradually settle as the weight of the moment shifts into something calmer, safer. one of his hands strokes softly along your back while the other remains firm around your waist, his voice threading into the quiet with reassurances.
as the quiet deepens, the room feels softer, almost sacred, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. your eyes close slowly, the weight of his words and the steady rhythm of his heart drawing you into a space of perfect calm. his hold is unwavering, a reminder that here, in his arms, you are completely safe.
#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sukuna#Spotify#fanfic#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#smut
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OMG I LOVE UR FANFICS!!
PLZ WRITE MORE SERIES!!
Can you write (if you want) a jinx x f!reader were reader’s first language is not English but another language. And she has a son whose first language is English and he always complains about taking classes. So jinx pulls them out of classes and that makes reader very mad. (basically Gloria from modern family)
It can be any language just ofc not English
TYY IF YOU DO IT
OMG I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!
I did it in my native language. English is my first but Tagalog (Filipino)is kinda my second asides from Spanish. I can kinda of speak Tagalog just not fluently.
“Lost in translation”
Jinx x F!Reader
WC: 1427
NOTE: established relationship. I did have to use google translate for some words so it might not be grammatically correct.
THIS ALSO MIGHT BE MY LAST FANFIC FOR A COUPLE DAYS BC I HAVE MIDTERMS
“Jinx, what the hell were you thinking?”
You stood in the center of the small apartment, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Jinx leaned against the counter, her casual stance a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.
“I was thinking the kid hates it,” she shot back with a shrug, twirling a wrench in her hand. “Why make him sit through something that makes him miserable?”
Your heart clenched. “He needs to learn it. He needs to—” You hesitated, stumbling over your words as your thoughts tripped over each other, fighting to come out in English. “It’s important for him to know… to understand—”
Jinx rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t need a million things crammed into his head. He’s fine just the way he is.”
“Fine?” you echoed, your voice trembling. “Jinx, it’s not just about school. It’s about him knowing who he is. Who I am. You think it’s easy for me, being stuck in the middle of two languages all the time?”
She frowned, her smirk faltering for the first time. “I didn’t say it was easy—”
“You didn’t even ask me!” you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You just pulled him out without even thinking about what it means!”
Jinx tilted her head, her electric blue eyes narrowing. “He’s my kid too, y’know. I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Her words hit you like a slap, and suddenly, the English words you’d been clutching at fell away, leaving nothing but raw emotion. Your chest heaved, and before you knew it, tears blurred your vision.
Jinx’s face shifted, the confidence draining from her expression. “Hey, whoa, babe, don’t cry—”
But you couldn’t stop. The frustration and exhaustion, the endless translating in your head, the constant feeling of being misunderstood—it all came pouring out in a language she didn’t understand.
“Ang hirap na hirap na ako, Jinx. Hindi mo naiintindihan. Hindi mo alam kung gaano kasakit na hindi ko masabi nang maayos ang nararamdaman ko.” (I'm in such a difficult situation, Jinx. You don't understand. You don't know how much it hurts that I can't express my feelings properly.)
You covered your face with your hands, your body shaking with sobs. “I just want him to know me,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking. “I want him to understand me without me having to fight for every word.”
Jinx froze, the wrench clattering to the floor. She stepped closer, unsure and unsteady, like she was walking on glass.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low and raw with something you didn’t hear from her often—guilt.
You didn’t respond, your tears falling harder. Jinx reached out, her gloved hand hesitating before resting on your knee.
“I thought I was making things better for him. I didn’t think about how it would hurt you.”
You sniffled, shaking your head but still unable to look at her. “It does not just hurt, Jinx,” you whispered, the words coming out shakily. “It’s… I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting with my own head, trying to make everything make sense in English just so I can talk to you, or him, or anyone.”
Jinx’s hand tightened slightly, grounding you, as if to say she was listening.
“I just… I feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” you continued, your voice cracking. “Not here. Not at home. And now, our son… he doesn’t even want to learn the one thing that connects him to where I come from. To me. And you just let him quit. You made the decision like it didn’t matter.”
Your words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Jinx’s usual chaotic energy had vanished; she looked like someone had ripped the ground out from under her.
“I didn’t know,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone except yourself” with that you slammed the door to your shared room with her.
—
You stood in the doorway, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap, the heaviness in your chest unbearable. Jinx stood across the room, her wild hair and mismatched clothes somehow looking smaller, like she didn’t know what to do with herself
“Wait,” she said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’re leaving?”
You nodded, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill again. “I just… I need space, Jinx. I need time to think.”
Her brows furrowed, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but no words came. For once, Jinx didn’t fight. She just stood there, the chaos in her usually vibrant eyes dimmed by something deeper.
“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking, “but I can’t keep doing this if you don’t try to understand. It’s too much.”
The silence in the room was deafening, and when you finally stepped out and closed the door behind you, it felt like your heart was breaking in two.
The days passed slowly. You stayed at a friend’s place, letting the quiet moments give you the space to breathe. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Jinx and your son kept creeping in. The weight of the fight lingered in your chest, heavy and unresolved.
You told yourself you just needed a little more time. That maybe Jinx would realize how important this was—not just to you, but to your family.
And then, three days after you left, you came home.
The apartment was quiet when you walked in, and for a moment, you wondered if she was even there. But then you heard it.
“Kamusta.”(Hello)
You froze, your bag slipping from your shoulder as you turned toward the sound. Jinx stood in the middle of the living room, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.
“What?” you asked, your heart pounding.
She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. “Kamusta,” she said again, the word clumsy but recognizable. “That means… uh, hello? Right?”
You blinked, stunned. “Y-yeah.”
Her lips twitched into a small, nervous smile. “I’ve been trying,” she said, stumbling over the words. “I… I looked up some stuff. It’s… hard, but I wanna learn. I wanna…”
She trailed off, her electric blue eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. “Ayaw ko… um…” She fumbled for a moment, clearly struggling to remember the phrase. “Ayaw kong… mag-translate ka… araw-araw.” (I don’t…I don’t want you to have to translate everyday)
Your heart clenched at the effort in her voice, the way she fought through every syllable. “I don’t… I don’t want you to have to translate every day. I love you,” she added in English, her voice shaking slightly.
Tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Jinx…” you smile widely, “now you’re the one who looks like an idiot!”
She chuckles softly but soon returns to her straight face. “I’m serious, okay? I… I’m not good at this, but I’m gonna try. I’ll keep learning. And he’s gonna learn, too. I already talked to him. Told him he’s sticking with it. I don’t care how much he complains—I’ll sit with him if I have to. We’ll both learn.”
You couldn’t stop the tears now, your hand flying to your mouth as you let out a shaky breath.
“I didn’t get it before,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “But I do now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone. Or like we don’t see you—really see you. You shouldn’t have to fight for that.”
She hesitated, then stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “I’ll learn Tagalog for you. For us. Because I love you. And I don’t wanna lose you.”
A sob broke free from your chest as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms tightening around you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.
“Salamat,” you whispered through your tears. (Thank you)
Jinx chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Walang anuman. That’s how you say ‘you’re welcome,’ right?”
You laughed, your heart aching in the best way. “Yeah. That’s right.”
Her grin widened, a little of her usual spark returning. “Told ya. I’m a fast learner.”
And in that moment, as the weight in your chest began to lift, you believed her. Together, you’d figure it out.
for once, her chaos felt like home.
TYY whoever requested that!! That was such and interesting requests to write!!
I want food
#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#x reader#x y/n#x you#jinx#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx lol#jinx x y/n#jinx x reader#jinx and isha#arcane
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part 2 to the johnny fic!
notes: this was pretty rushed,,,so it is fast paced..if u guys dont like this one i could always rewrite it! :3
taglist: @ennovi-9 @vvenus-child @msilwrites @tessakate @beatriceshadowmarvel2 @montenegroisr (for some reason i cant tag the others??) i'll try to do so in the comments
Grief was never an easy thing to heal from to begin with, so Simon has kept a close eye on you ever since. You refused to believe him at first, trying to pull out some sort of proof that you were with Johnny this past year but to your own shock, there was none. Not a singular one.
Luckily, Simon had a xerox copy of Johnny’s death certificate. The original copy was with you but it seems that it was burned to ashes based on the reaction you gave when Simon dangled it over your face.
But you really weren’t believing him, shielded in the denial you were holding tightly close to you. “Where’s the urn with half of his ashes then, eh?” Simon throws the question at you, his words unintentionally harsher than expected.
But he really doesn't get what you've been trying to convince him to believe, don't you remember spreading Soap’s ashes? He expected you to at least remember that part.
“The…what?” That was all you could manage to say right now, your voice failing you now of all times. “The urn with his ashes.” He repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he intently watches your expression.
Simon starts to wonder how hard of a psychosis you went through, or if you ever took drugs after Johnny’s death. That would explain the hallucinations as well, there's no shame in it either. It's not unusual for someone to turn to substances during mourning, it's a common coping mechanism.
All Simon wants to focus on is you, for you to get better. Fuck Johnny for leaving you alone like this, the pitiful sight almost made Simon's face be a constant scowl.
Okay..maybe he was exaggerating but he’ll definitely throw a middle finger up to the sky later. Simon knows it'll probably make Johnny laugh his ass off…or worry. It really depends if he knew your current situation.
Either way, none of that stuff matters much. You have no choice but to be in Simon’s care.
He’s not quite sure what to do when you start crying into his chest the moment you two stepped into your house, no longer a home. He remains still, lightly patting you on the back as he guides you to the couch.
He’ll be here for a while, won't he?
~~~
It's been weeks since you've known about Johnny’s death, but the only thing Simon could notice was the lack of improvement.
You were rotting in bed, relying on Simon completely for you to do basic tasks. You spent most of the time crying and sleeping, an endless cycle that even made Simon feel like he was going crazy.
“C’mon, eat up, luv. I made you some soup. We're runnin’ out of groceries as well, wanna tag along later?” He offers, holding up the spoon full of soup to your mouth. Expectedly, with a disinterested look, you turn your back on him.
He sighs, putting the bowl aside. “Alright, I won't make you go but the offer is still up.” He says, pausing when he hears footsteps get closer and closer to the door.
It's…weirdly familiar. Simon could recognize people based off of their footsteps alone, but he simply couldn't place his finger on this one. As it got nearer, you seemed to notice it as well..
The two of you make questioning looks at each other. “Stay there, I’ll go check it out.” Simon stood up, making his way to the door until a certain someone pops out.
“Bonnie? Ye there? Git us some groceries.”
…Another shared look between you and Simon.
“Oh good, there yer are, lass. Simon? You're here too? Glad there's another set of hands then.”
Simon’s gaze moved to you, seeing your eyes water up with tears. But that wasn't what caught his attention, it was the hole through this…Johnny’s head.
#cod fanfic#cod x fem!reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod x reader#call of duty#cod fanfiction#cod#simon riley#ghost cod#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#cod soap#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soap cod#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#simon riley cod#ghost riley#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#john mactavish x you#cod john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#johnny mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you
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I hadn't heard about this, so I looked up the trailer expecting it to be awful and
youtube
This... looks fun actually? Toothless looks like Toothless. Still expressive and everything. It doesn't look like a Lion King situation in that sense. This trailer, to me, makes it look like they've changed the tone to a more serious one, but like the heart and emotion at the core of it may still be there. And the actor they picked for Hiccup seems like a good fit (I don't know hardly any actors though so idk who this is). It looks like How to Train Your Dragon: Gritty Lord-of-the-Ring's-ish Dramatic Fantasy Edition. Seems like a good time to me. Like the movie equivalent of an alternate universe fanfiction. I still won't see it in theaters. I'd still prefer more original films over this. I'd still prefer animated versions of live action originals, over yet another CGI/live action version of an existing animated movie that's perfectly good as it is. I'd prefer a new adaptation (animated or live) of the How to Train Your Dragon book (which I hear is VERY different than the movie) over this - that option was literally right there. They could've still tied it to the How to Train Your Dragon animated films in the marketing. It'd mean paying scriptwriters to adapt the book to film in a new way, but like. Scriptwriters are not even close to the most expensive part of filmmaking. They could have made it animated again and saved a bucketload of money. But still... as "live action" adaptations go, I'm actually interested in this one. I'm looking forward to it now. CGI, also, isn't even "live action", not really. I hate that this has somehow become the universal term for it. CGI is also animation, just really realistic and expensive animation. It has artistic value and also has a heck of a lot of potential beyond the ways it is most often used. There are so many cool things that could be done with it that get left on the table in favor of only "let's make this as realistic-looking and/or dark and gritty and scary as possible and put it next to human actors". It's been artificially limited from what it could be by corporate culture and decision-making (as have been many other things). Anyway, since Toothless - at least in the trailer, though granted that may not be representative - looks properly expressive in the usual animated fashion, this doesn't give me that "why are people treating animation as inferior" feeling as much as other such adaptations do. It does give me a bit of the "why do people treat realistic aesthetics as automatically better" feeling, but they're definitely doing this just because they (probably rightfully) expect they can make a lot of money for the investment required. And it looks fun so I can give that a pass, maybe. If it does well enough, it could hypothetically fund more originals that are bigger risks, the way mega-popular books have traditionally funded the risks publishers take on newer, riskier authors and books. But of course this is assuming the execs don't just pocket everything and then look for the next easy cash grab instead. (I've read that model in book publishing has been dwindling lately, too, but I've not looked into it much.) I am a bit concerned by the fact the 2nd trailer is almost identical to the first, though, because that leaves the possibility that they showcased the only good-looking bit and left out the rest. :P I do think there's a chance it'll actually be good though.
GUESS WHO EDITED SMTH AGAINNN
My thoughts of httyd live action as a whole
#httyd#how to train your dragon live action#how to train your dragon#live action adaptation#animated movies#CGI#film industry#movie news#ramble#Youtube
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could you do sub!jun ho. like his usual composure just absolutely crumbles and he's just desperate
𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader
summary | the request. junho, emotionally vulnerable, seeks guidance and surrender in front of you
warnings | emotional vulnerability, mild language, themes of internal struggle and surrender
word count | 1.05 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
You find yourself in front of him, the tension in the air palpable, while Junho keeps his gaze fixed on you. It’s hard to read his expressions, but there’s something in his posture, the stiffness of his body, that gives you an idea of what he feels. Though he is usually the type to control the situation, today he doesn’t seem like that. In fact, he seems... vulnerable.
"What do you want from me?" Junho asks, his voice somewhat broken, as if he fears the answer.
Your presence intimidates him, even if he doesn’t openly show it. He tries to keep his composure, but something in his gaze betrays the agitation that’s consuming him from the inside. He can’t help but show his desperation, as if he’s waiting for you to say what he already fears.
"I want you to listen to me," you reply, your voice firm but gentle. There’s nothing aggressive in your words, but the way you say them makes him feel as if he’s about to crumble.
He breathes deeply, trying to maintain his control, but his eyes can’t help but follow you as you take another step closer. His body tightens, and you realize his patience is at its limit. He’s not like the other men you’ve known, the ones who fight to show their power. Junho doesn’t want to fight, nor prove anything. He just wants... something he doesn’t know how to ask for.
"I can’t keep doing this," he mutters, almost in a whisper, and you notice his hands shaking slightly. The officer, always so confident, now seems like a man on the verge of losing everything.
You step closer, just close enough for him to feel your warmth, but you don’t touch him yet. It’s as if the space between you and him is charged with static electricity, waiting to explode.
"What can’t you keep doing, Junho?" you ask, your tone gentler now. Whatever is going on in his mind, you want him to share it.
He bites his lip, his eyes can’t hold yours for long. He’s struggling with something, something he hasn’t wanted to face. But finally, his gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you see the fear in him, the fear of being vulnerable, of being who he really is beneath all that facade of security.
"I can’t keep pretending to be who... who I have to be," he says, and there’s a surrender in his voice, a whisper of anguish that had been hidden behind his usual composure. The Junho you see now isn’t the same one who always watched you from a distance with a cold, calculating demeanor. This is a Junho who’s letting himself be swept away by something he doesn’t understand.
You lean in slightly, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You just look at him, letting the silence between you speak more than any words could.
"Then, who are you, Junho?" you ask softly, letting the question sink into the air.
The answer doesn’t come immediately. He closes his eyes, as if the question has struck him right in the center of his being. Then, after a long sigh, he finally speaks.
"I’m... I’m someone who needs to let go of all of this," he says, his voice broken by frustration and vulnerability. You can see how the mask he’s been wearing for so long begins to crumble right before you.
"And what are you going to do with that?" you ask, feeling a strange mixture of compassion and power as you watch him confront his own demons.
"I don’t know," he replies, and the sadness in his tone cuts deep. "I don’t know what to do, but... I want to stop fighting. I want... I want you to tell me what to do."
Those words hit you in an unexpected way. Though you’ve seen him strong and determined before, here, in front of you, he’s completely exposed, emotionally vulnerable. It’s as if he’s waiting for your direction, waiting for you to guide him. And that changes everything.
"You don’t have to fight, Junho," you say, and for the first time, a trace of calm washes over his face.
"But I need you to tell me," he insists, almost pleading, as if he can’t bear the uncertainty any longer.
You look at him intently, and in that moment, you know that words don’t matter as much anymore. What truly matters is what the two of you can give to each other in this moment of shared vulnerability.
"Let yourself go," you whisper, and the way you say it is all he needs to finally give in.
He doesn’t respond with words. Just a deep sigh escapes his lips before he closes his eyes and lets his facade fall apart completely. It’s a Junho who no longer fears showing himself for what he truly is. And you, in that moment, understand what he’s been seeking: someone who sees him without judgment, someone who expects nothing more from him than his truth.
The silence between you fills with a new understanding. "I’m here," you say, and it’s all he needs to hear.
#squid game#squid game 2#squid games#jun ho squid game#squid game x fem!reader#hwang jun ho x reader#hwang jun ho#hwang junho#jun ho x reader
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Late Night Antics
wroetoshaw x reader fluff, suggestive
~~~
You were laying in your boyfriend's bed scrolling through your Instagram feed. Nothing new, nothing entertaining. It was quite late already and you were waiting for Harry to finish playing Among us with the boys. You always loved watching him play because he was always got so passionate about it. You loved listening to his cute laugh whenever they caught someone in the act or even his frustration when he gets voted out for no reason. You were bored right now though because he was the first to die so this whole time was just him as a ghost.
"Alright boys, I'll talk to you tomorrow." He said as he left the call, taking out his earphones. "All done baby?" You asked as he stood up to stretch. You watched as he stretched his arms flexing his muscles and you couldn't help but stare at them.
"What." He smiled giving a breathy little laugh. "Nothing just admiring your beauty." You giggled. He walked over to the bed and tackled you lightly wrapping his arms around you. He began kissing your face all over making you laugh. You cupped his cheeks making him stop and took in his features. His soft clear eyes staring into yours, his messy blonde hair falling slightly over his forehead. You loved this man so much and you knew he deeply loved you. It was a sweet moment, the warmth of being in each others company. Just you two and no one else.
"Are you tired yet?" He asked as he began standing up. You felt sadden by the loss of his warmth.
"Not really, why?"
"Me neither, maybe we can do something like watch netflix?"
"Nah I don't wanna watch anything... how about we bake?"
"Bake? It's 2:23!" Harry shriek. You gave him your famous puppy dog eyes that you know he can't resist.
"Okay fine." He gave in going back to the bed to hug you.
~~~
You two made your way towards the kitchen in Harry's flat. It was small but big enough for two people. You aren't the best baker but you do enjoy it from time to time. You had previously bought supplies and ingredients so they could stay in his flat on the whim that you decided to bake something. Sometimes it's almost like you live with him. You two have been dating for about three years now so you're very comfortable with each other, spending most of your days at either your place or his.
You took out all the ingredients to make homemade cookies. You didn't know how to make many recipes but you knew how to make your favorite cookies. Everyone always raved about them and you know Harry absolutely loves them. He doesn't really enjoy cooking but he loves spending time with you, so much so that he even bought matching aprons for when you decide to spontaneously bake something like tonight. You watched as he took the aprons from the rack, walking over to you and putting it around your neck. You looked up at him with a goofy little smile on his face as he went around you to tie the apron. Not too tight but just enough for it to fit snuggly on your waist.
He put his on, tying it on his own. You put your hair up in a pony tail and Harry took this opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist. You put your hands on his as he squeezed you from behind. "You know I adore you, right?" he said in a deep voice giving you goosebumps at the vibration running though your body.
You turned around to face him wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a soft kiss. "I know." you said kissing his lips again. He wanted to continue but you pulled away leaving a small frown on his face.
"First we bake!" You said excitedly going over to the sink to wash your hands. He came over and began washing his as well giving you a little hip bump. You scoff in playful annoyance as you bumped him back harder causing him to stumble back a bit. He looked at you faking a hurt expression splashing some water in your face. You gasped as the semi cold water droplets hit your face. You soaked your hands then placed them on both sides of his face making him wince at the cold touch.
"Okay okay, truce." He let out a breathy laugh. You nodded as you began drying your hands on the hand towel. "Okay so first we mix the wet ingredients and dry ingredients separately." You began listing off directions as he gave all his attention to you, staring at you lovingly.
You two got to work making the dough. Harry managed to drop a couple of eggs, and you two ended up covered in flour, but other than that, things ended up quite successful. Harry watched intensely as you rolled the dough out. You seemed so concentrated in what you were doing that you didn't notice him pull out his phone and snap a few pictures of you.
"Harry stop!!" You whined as you didn't feel your prettiest at the moment.
"Aw don't worry baby, you look adorable, I want to save this memory." He smiled snapping a million more photos. "Okay, well what if I want to remember this moment of you standing there not helping?" You snickered as you began pulling out your phone. He took your phone from you and held both of them, aiming both cameras towards you.
"What now?" He said with a smug look on his face. You frowned but walked over to him kissing his lips then his jaw, leading down to his neck. He let out a soft moan as you left small kisses all over his neck taking this moment to snag your phone back.
"What! That's not fair."
"Life's not fair." You giggled, taking pictures of him. He tried reaching, but you placed your phone in the air as if he wasn't taller than you and was unable to reach it.
"Oh so we're playing that game." He quickly grabbed your waist, making you yelp at the sudden touch and placed you onto the counter. He stood between both of your legs causing you to wrap them around him. With one hand on your waist, he used the other to hold your jaw. He began kissing your neck like you had done to him earlier. His kisses were rougher, more hungry that your soft ones. You let out a moan and he began sucking on your neck causing you to melt at the sense of his warm mouth on your skin.
He hands now exploring your body while your hands made their way towards his hair, tugging on it lightly allowing a soft moan to escape his lips.
Suddenly you pushed him away.
"Not yet." You said once again leaving him with a yearn for more of you and your body.
You placed the now shaped cookies in the oven and waited for them to bake. Harry made his advances as the two of you waited but each time you rejected him causing him to whine while you just laughed.
Finally the ding of the oven and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the room. You carefully took them out and placed them on the cooling rack. Harry helped you transfer the cookies from the rack to the plate after they cooled down a bit.
You both grabbed a cookie and took a big bite finally being able to indulge in the sweet creation you two were brewing up for the last hour. "Oh my god." Harry said as he took another bite. "They're incredible, all thanks to me." He chuckled as you shot him a glare. "Okay, mostly you but they seriously are amazing." You smiled in content as you watched your boyfriend scarf down two more cookies.
You wrapped your hands around his waist, giving him a peck on his lips, the sweetness of the cookies still lingering.
"Now."
---
A/n
Sorry for the spam of imagines. I used to have a miniminter imagines book and they were so much fun to write. Pls lmk if you have any ideas for one, my chat's always open! And as always I hope you enjoyed!!
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Coppélia
Chapter 12 - The Muscle
Chapter Summary - the cobra is active once again, and someone close to Y/N has a target on their back.
warnings: mentions of murder
Series Masterlist
MINORS DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS POINT
I awoke the following morning to yelling from downstairs. It seemed the appearance of my father had caused some tension to arise.
"How did he even get onto the property? The guards know not to let him in unless we say so." I heard Wooyoung say, his voice strained from stress.
I could imagine the fallout. Not only the impact of me leaving halfway through my own party, but also the fact that the majority of the guests that were there hated my father equally as much. Seeing him supposedly invited to a party at the ATZ Manor could cause some damage to their reputation, or worse, cut ties with allies all together.
"It was a masquerade ball. He probably snuck in as a plus one." Yeosang answered Wooyoung, his voice indifferent. Yeosang had gone radio silent since our time in the library. He wasn't avoiding me, at least not on purpose, I suspected he was busy with work.
"With everything going on, why would he think it would be a good idea to show up here?" Mingi grumbles. By this time, I had made my way out of my room and was now hiding on top of the stairs. By the sound of it, they were gathered in the living room.
"He obviously wanted something. Yunho, did Y/N say anything?" Hongjoong asks.
"She didn't want to talk about it. Honestly, I didn't realise it was her father until she outright told me." Yunho says. I could imagine him sprawled out on one of the couches, his head resting on the arm with a hard expression on his face, his dark hair messy from sleep.
"She didn't say anything about why he could be here? Anything at all?"
"No, I don't think we have to worry about her. She wants nothing to do with him." Yunho says, his words causing a pang of confusion to prick at my stomach. Worry about me?
"Good, just in case, Yeosang can keep an eye on her since he's finished with his work." Hongjoong says, causing Yeosang to let out a groan.
"Are you really making me babysit? Yunho just said she's not a threat." Yeosang asks, his voice almost whiney.
"We don't know her well enough, she could be a spy." Hongjoong says.
"I think work is making you paranoid." Seonghwa says, his voice low in warning.
"Maybe you should all be paranoid." Hongjoong hisses, the sound of a chair scooting on the floor tells me he's stood up now. "The Cobra is on the move again, Y/N's father shows up uninvited to a party he shouldn't have known about. Not to mention, two of our generals were killed in their own homes."
"That still doesn't mean Y/N has anything to do with it!" Seonghwa argues, probably standing also. "Do you think she's the Cobra?" He scoffs.
Hongjoong laughs bitterly. "I don't know! It's possible, just like it's possible it could be one of us. But I trust you more, don't I? More then -" He stops when he sees me, now standing in the doorway of the living room with a heart broken expression.
Did they really think that of me? That I was a spy? Did Hongjoong not trust me even after all those nights we'd spent alone together?
The others turn to see me, Mingi and Jongho mirroring a saddened expression. The others just stared, probably not knowing what to do. Hongjoong looks down at his feet in shame.
"You're right," Hongjoong says, sighing deeply as he takes a seat once more. "I'm paranoid." He sounded more disappointed in himself, more than the fact that Seonghwa was right. I felt attacked yes, a little heartbroken sure, but I understood his worries.
He had a family here, one that I still needed to fond my place in, one that he needed to protect.
"The Cobra is back?" I ask, my hands fidgeting with the string of my night dress.
"A body was found last night." Mingi confirms softly, standing up and walking over to me. He reaches for my upper arms and gently rubs them with his calloused hands, giving my biceps a gentle and comforting squeeze. "Nowhere near here, but it was a his M.O."
"Were any of you going to tell me this?" I ask, glancing behind him and, for some reason, looking directly at Yeosang, who stared right back at me. It was like he was talking to me with his eyes, and I understood every word.
'Be calm, and all will be told.' Patience was never one of my strong suits.
"There's a lot to unpack." San says, the boy lounging in only a pair of sweatpants and a coat, his bare chest and abs distracting me for a breath moment.
"Like what?" I ask, moving away from Mingi and towards the empty spot beside Yeosang. "I want to know."
Hongjoong and Seonghwa share a look, before Seonghwa lets out a sigh.
"He's announced his next target." Hongjoong tells me, his expression serious. "It's someone you know."
"Who?" I ask, a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Mia Hua." Wooyoung answers for him, his voice soft but loud enough for me to catch the name.
"Mia? But she's not involved in this world! What would the Cobra have to gain from her death?" I question, my words coming out in a shout as I stand.
"Doll.." Seonghwa says, reaching forward, but I move away. I had to get out of there, a moment of peace to collect my thoughts.
The only girl who had been nice to me in 3rd grade, and had never left my side since. The girl who protected me, and gave me a home when life at home got too much. My best friend.
My sister.
She had a target on her back, and for what? Being a painter? Did The Cobra know I was searching for him already? Why has everyone I'm close to become a target?
Then it clicked.
Why did everyone I know become a target?
I made it to the library when I had my epiphany, the gears turning in my head, making it spin in turn. I hadn't noticed I'd been followed, not until his hands cupped my face.
Yeosang stared back at me, slowly bringing me back to earth with his gentle gaze. He understood the pain and fear. He had to have, especially with Aurora. I let my breathing settle, matching the patterns with his.
"There you are." He says gently, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "It's okay, baby. Everything is going to be fine."
"It's me, Yeosang." I say, my breath heavy. "I'm the big target."
"What're you talking about?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. As I move towards the back windows.
"Everyone I know, every single target aside from Aurora I have met or known at some point. Yeosang, I'm a common factor." I say, starting to pace. "The Cobra has to be someone close to me, or someone associated with my family."
Yeosang stared back at me, genuinely considering my words. "I'll bite; if you're right, who could possibly be a mindless serial killer?"
"My father probably." I grumble.
"It can't have been, he was here last night." Yeosang says.
"When was the body found?"
"Early this morning." Yeosang answers, not missing a beat. It felt refreshing in an odd way.
"Do we know the time of death yet?" I ask next.
"Around 7:30 last night." He says, his voice going quiet as we both stare at each other. I could see the gears turning in his head now. "This is insane." He says. "As much as I hate that man, he's got too much going for him. Besides, would he really try and kill you or your sisters?"
I thought for a moment, sure he was a cruel father, but he'd never kill any of us.
"But you believed it." I say, taking a step forward. "Even if it was just for a second."
Yeosang relaxes his shoulders, looking away briefly. "If you're right.."
"Yeosang we could put a serial killer away!" I whisper, closing the gap between us and taking his hand. "The man who killed Aurora, the man whose been tormenting my family."
"That's not what I'm worried about. Not anymore." He says softly, his eyes gazing into my own again. "If it is your father.. Y/N that would destroy you, no matter how much you hate him."
I look down at our entwined hands. A small part of me didn't want to believe it.
"He is not my father." I say, "If putting him away saves whats left of my family then so be it."
I jolt slightly as I feel Yeosangs lips brush the crown of my head. "Just.. Let us do the dirty work." He whispers, cupping my cheek as I loft my head again. "I'm not letting history repeat itself."
I always had a feeling Yeosang was a romantic at heart, but this? This was a whole other level. I felt like I was in a movie with the way he was looking at me.
"I'm not going anywhere, Yeosang. You have my word."
I slept beside Seonghwa that night, the mans arm draped over my waist as he slept soundly behind me. My mind couldn't stay in one place, my thoughts muddled with worry. Hongjoong had agreed to allow Mia to stay in a safe house deep in the city. Mark would love with her for added protection, though I'm sure the only thing he could do was talk them out of it (To which I had faith).
I felt Seonghwas lips on my shoulder, just above the elastic of my night dress.
"Doll, you should sleep." He murmers. "If you keep worrying about one thing, you'll never have any new ideas about other things."
I pondered his words for a moment before speaking. "Have any of you ever had a target on your back?"
My question seemed to humour him, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
"All of us had, but they were empty threats." He says. "The only time the Cobra targeted one of us was after he killed Aurora." He says.
"He targeted one of you after?" I ask.
"Yeosang." Seonghwa answers softly. My eyes softened at the thought. They really couldn't catch a break.
"The Cobra went into hiding before he could make anything of it." Seonghwa continues. "Until now at least."
"Would he still come after Yeosang?" I ask, feeling Seonghwa hold me a little tighter against his chest.
"I hope not." He whispers.
a short one cause I've got two big chapters coming up! sorry I've been away for so long, I've been absolutely hounded by work right now, not to mention I start up again at Uni next week.
on a positive note; updates should return to normal once i set my routine up next week. so look forward to some more chapters! also, questions and feedback are always welcome! i love reading your comments!
taglist:
@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling @starhwacore @neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @vtyb23 @bigbabygremlin @professormingisglasses @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @pinuspot @astral-trashcan @ateezswonderland @joonhasjiminsjams @atzlordz @lightwxodd
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It's interesting, because I'm reading a Brazilian Portuguese translation and I've been finding some differences from the English one, which I suspect may be truer to the original Greek. For example, in Portuguese, Menelaus is described as a blond instead of a ginger, and Athena is described with green eyes instead of gray. So I think that's the reason there might be a misconception on my part, since in the scene when Menelaus tells Telemachus what he knows about Odysseus, he says Proteus told him so after Menelaus captured him, instead of it being a dream.
I mean, if it had been described as a dream, it'd be very understandable why he wouldn't say anything! That's not trustworthy information you just go sharing out of nowhere, indeed. But since it was a prophet God that told him that (in the book I'm reading, at least), I thought it was a bit jarring he didn't try to warn anyone, you know?
Especially after he told Telemachus he liked Odysseus so much, he'd empty the island of Ithaca and relocate all of its inhabitants to Laconia, make a whole new kingdom for Odysseus there, just so they could rule nearby each other. Which is why I made the gay joke, by the way haha It's my first time reading Ancient Greek mythology and I admit I was caught off guard by such an earnest expression of Menelaus' love for his friend. Honestly, I get it, I would do the same for my best friends! Haha And I agree, I don't ship them either (even tho I haven't read the Iliad yet - yeah, I know 🥲) and I think it should be more normal to express how much we care about our friends the way Menelaus does.
Regardless, you are right the poor man had enough on his plate already.
And when you put it like that, indeed it's an awkward letter lol
Still, maybe I'm projecting too much here, but if I were in Penelope's or Telemachus' place, I'd like to know something, anything. As useless as the information may sound. They knew Odysseus didn't die in the Trojan War, so what happened? I'd find some semblance of comfort in knowing someone heard my loved one is still alive and he wants to get back to me. I can understand where Menelaus would be coming from, if he thought knowing wouldn't help Penelope of Telemachus at all, but if it were my husband or my father, I'd be furious no one told me.
And maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but who knows, Penelope might have had some leverage to hold the suitors back in that scenario. It would be extremely disrespectful to try for the Queen's hand if there's a chance the King's still alive. And maybe then Telemachus would have had a chance to prove himself earlier, to show he is already a man and capable of taking over the throne, if he had traveled to look for his father sooner. I mean, Athena herself goes to Telemachus and essentially asks him "Why don't you finally kick those men (the suitors) out of your palace? Why don't you go try to get information about your father?". So maybe having a lead earlier on may have had saved them some of the trouble. At least that's what I was thinking when I read that scene.
And yes, you're right! There is a chance Menelaus did try to send a letter and it never arrived. And maybe he thought he ought to "repeat" the whole story to Telemachus, since the poor boy went through the trouble of getting to Sparta and asking him about Odysseus in person.
Well, at the end of the day, you are the scholar here, I'm just reading those myths for the first time hahaha. To be honest, I wrote the og post as a silly joke when I was half asleep, I didn't expect it to get any attention at all. So I apologize for any misinformation I may have spread on accident!
Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.
But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.
#greek mythology#the odyssey#menelaus#telemachus#I finally got a copy of the Iliad too so I guess I'll pause my reading of the Odyssey and read that one first#maybe it'll clear things up a bit
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PLEASE COMEBACK TO ME | K.SN
— Pairing: sunoo x fem!reader | (Masterlist)
— Synopsis: Y/n and Sunoo broke up because of his jealousy. But even though Y/N was angry, she ended up surrendering to him.
— Genre: smut
— Warnings: unprotected sex, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, overstimulation.
It had been almost a month since Y/N and Sunoo broke up, all because of a stupid fight after he got jealous and ended up offending her, about how she couldn't be so stupid as to not notice that Jungwon, her ex, still liked her.
Y/N was still angry with Sunoo, so she was furious when she saw him arriving at the party he was going to have for the residents of the building and Y/N was one of those responsible for organizing the event, he knew that so he didn't miss the chance to go, he needed to apologize, but she was avoiding him.
During most of the event she managed to avoid him despite him continuing to follow her, but when one of her neighbors stopped her with the excuse of talking about her twin children that Y/N always stopped to play with, Sunoo was unable to keep her distance. he pulled her in the middle of the conversation.
- What the fuck do you think you're doing? - She screamed at him when he dragged her to a room where there were some things that would be given at the end of the party.
- You've got to be kidding me. Don't you know the nonsense he said about you out there? I don't want you anywhere near this guy again, who knows what he might do.
- What, what does it matter to you? We're done, in case you forgot. You have nothing to do with who I talk to. And he was just talking about the babies, you're so paranoid.
- The babies? Okay, you seem to really like babies. - He said sarcastically.
Y/N opened the door to leave, but he slammed the door shut again, before hugging her from behind.
- Wait…Y/N forgive me. Not just for now, but for that day too. I shouldn't have offended you like that, please forgive me.
As he spoke he kissed her neck, she tried to let go, but he continued, and she wasn't really trying, he knew very well how to provoke her, how to manipulate her, she was already melting in his arms.
When he didn't receive a response, he turned her around and kissed her, she responded and then he intensified the kiss as he guided her to the back of the room, pushing her on the table, knocking everything that was on top of her.
He moved away to take off his shirt while she did the same. Y/N pulled Sunoo back by his belt to finish taking off his clothes, who soon did the same to her. He kissed her again while her hands went straight to his penis, spreading the precum that already covered the tip, he moaned into the kiss, how he missed her.
A shiver ran throughout Y/N's body when she felt his beautiful fingers against her wetness. He broke the kiss smiling at her.
- You missed me too, there's no denying it, look how you're already dripping for me. - Sunoo said before licking his fingers. - How I missed that.
Sunoo couldn't take it anymore, he lined himself up rubbing the tip against her entrance, she twitched in anticipation when she felt it rub against her clit.
- Go soon Sunoo. - Y/N was clinging to him with her face in the crook of his neck.
- So hurried, always so desperate. - When he said that he penetrated her at once, hitting her deep.
Y/N's nails were digging into his shoulders as she felt him give strong deep thrusts, he was punishing her for depriving him of fucking her in the last few weeks.
As he quickened his pace he made Y/N straighten up, holding her face he wanted to see her expression of pleasure, he missed seeing how fragile she was when he was inside her. Taking his other hand to massage her clit making it squeeze around it before cumming, he groaning seeing her beautiful face full of tears as he continued pounding her sensitive insides, he wanted so badly to cum inside her soon but he tried to prolong it as long as he could to continue seeing her expression of despair being overstimulated. When he finally came she clenched around him it felt like he would never stop filling her with his sperm, she ended up having another orgasm as he continued his movements, he smiled before finally stopping his movements. A victorious smile that irritated her. She knew that expression, he did that when he planned something, but she didn't understand what.
While getting dressed, Y/N cursed him, but she also cursed herself, not believing that she had given in so easily.
- Don't think I've completely forgiven you, let's talk later, I need to take care of the event.
Y/N was setting up the toast table when she saw Jungwon talking to someone, she approached to say hello, after all even if it was her ex they still maintained a certain friendship.
- She's a manipulative bitch, she's cruel, no one could stand dating her. - Jungwon said to his friend.
She thought he was talking about her so she gave him a dirty look as soon as he saw her. But to her surprise he smiled when he saw her and approached her.
- Y/N, it's good to see you. - Jungwon said excitedly.
- I heard what you were saying, I hope it wasn't from me. - She scolded him.
- Of course not, you are perfect; A crazy girl has been following me. That's who I was talking about.
While they were talking, Y/N saw Sunoo staring at them, he looked upset and angry, after all Jungwon was the reason they broke up.
Soon she was called by another resident saying that they needed her, so she said goodbye to Jungwon.
Y/N would have to present a new space that they would open in the building for pregnant women and newborns.
When she finished explaining about the place and everything that would be available there, she saw Sunoo smiling at her, but ignored it. While checking if everything was ok at the tables she felt arms around her waist, it was Sunoo hugging her.
- This new space is great for future moms. If it's up to me you'll enjoy it soon, if everything went well I've already left a gift in you.
Y/N turned around immediately, when she saw that smile on his face again she understood exactly what he meant, and the meaning of that smile earlier.
— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories
#sunoo#smut#enhypen#enhypen x reader#sunoo x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen scenarios#kpop#kpop fanfic#enhypen imagines#jungwon#sunoo smut#sunoo imagines
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