#How to get back lost love by mantra | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonatic · 1 year ago

Text

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable.

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself.

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you.

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms.

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

3K notes · View notes

7nuh · 8 months ago

Text

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

#homicipher #homicipher x reader #yandere x reader #mr. crawling x reader #yandere!mr. crawling #do expect a future drabble on the last bit

2K notes · View notes

4ruits · 22 days ago

Text

imagine gojo as a robot ── an artificial companion made custom to your needs. you received him from your parents as a gift of concern. you live your life as a hermit, only going to work and home. you avoid grocery shopping if you can, ordering online to have them delivered to you on the weekends, and try to only have virtual doctor's appointments if you can. you never go out, and the most outside time you have is sitting out in your backyard.

your parents always told you how important it is to be social, but you always ignored their advice and wishes that they had for you. you were content in your lonely life.

so receiving this freskishly tall and freakishly handsome robot came as a surprise. builders bulldozing in your house as your parents are on the phone with you. they ignore your berating as they go on in detail about the robot. your mother especially, "isn't he cute? he's just your type, i know it!"

your father's next, warning you not to try anything. "there's a tracker inside him if you ever try to give him away. i'll track him down and return him right back to you."

so, there you go. you have a robot man as a friend.

as time progresses, you've come to enjoy his company. gojo's become a helping hand around your apartment and you're coming to realize how fun socializing can be. he's got such a teasing and flirtatious personality, always coming off more romantic than platonic. sly touches that linger on and fingers brushing against your lips in heated moments. you never questioned it.

the longer he stays with you, the longer he feels more... human. asking you questions in curiosity, watching television with you and genuinely showing interest. however, you still don't question it.

it isn't until one night, he asks to kiss you. you gasp, "w-what?"

"i saw it on the television," gojo admits. "in one of the shows we were watching. i want to do that with you."

this is where you remember that he's a robot, by the blunt ease he tells you certain things. however, lost in those inhumane eyes of his, you nod, silently granting him permission. and things continue to escalate from there.

from the innocence of asking for a kiss to kissing you when the moment feels right, it's come to a point where you're gladly splayed out on the bed for him. bare under his beautiful gaze, your arousal seeps through your folds as he has your legs spread out for you. fingers dipping into your heat. he smiles in awe as gojo sighs, "marvelous."

that boyish grin you love plasters on his face as he dips down to your heat and takes one lick. his tongue feels so real, the soft sponge of the faux muscle getting dampened by your arousal as gojo tongue fucks you. your moans egging him on to your release. he moves like an expert for something that claims he wants to explore and learn more about sex. and when he makes you come, he doesn't stop there.

"satoru," you squeak. "it's too── it's too much!"

"i want to know what makes you feel good," he pants from in between your legs. "i only want to make you feel good."

by the time his cock's in between your legs, you have already came twice. body exhausted, your bundle of nerves are highly sensitive. still, you let your companion use your body, all in the name of your pleasure. gojo's cock glides in you with ease, and he watches how you twist and contort in pleasure. he memorizes it── records it.

soon, drilling his cock in and out of you, you cry out his name in a mantra. "satoru," you drewl. "satoru, you feel s'good."

"i like this," he beams. "i like having sex with you."

maybe you should've said no to this. maybe you should've set more boundaries because when he's finally off of you and you've gotten the rest you needed, the moment you open up your eyes, gojo's on top of you again. and he smiles down at you so sweetly as he massages your breasts, "can we have sex again? can i make you feel good again?"

you wish you had the strength to say no to him, but your pussy flutters and you know deep down that you want gojo, too.

"yes."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut

571 notes · View notes

lesbikaiser · 10 months ago

Text

freak in you – s. ryusei.

wc: 4k.

cw: size, breeding and mirror kink, a tiny winy little bit of thigh riding, belly bulge, fingering, lots of spit and an abnormal amount of cum (yours and his!), squirting, dirty talk, subspace mention, literally one clit slap, reverse cowgirl → (semi) full nelson → honestly idek what position it's but he's using your body like his personal fleshlight!! reader has a pussy but no pronouns were defined ^-^ shidou is nasty, a pervy and a meanie! you get cockdrunk at some point so dumbfication!!! also dacryphilia! reader gets called small a lot so beware!

a/n: this is straight up pure smut, no plot, just filthiness!

also i always try to make reader as neutral as possible in every feature so anyone can fit in my writings but for this especially reader is shorter than shidou – nothing impossible though since he's 6'1" tall and all but anyway! other than that, there's no specifications for skin/hair/eye colors, weight or anything! hope everyone is comfortable with what i write!

the atmosphere in your bedroom is suffocating as ryusei devours your lips, you feel his hands everywhere on your body at once and they make you feel so, so hot, your panties are soaked and practically glued to your core with how wet you're, and you know shidou can feel it too when he whistles, his muscular thigh meeting your clothed cunt.

"mmh, you're dripping all over my pants, sweets." the smirk stretching his lips is audible through his tone, fingers sinking on your hips and bringing you closer to him, you can't hold back the moan bubbling up your throat at the delicious friction his muscles give your sore clit. "is it all f'me?"

"shidou..." you only get to whimper, long lost in the trance he's put you in, it's like you're intoxicated as soon as his lips touch your skin, your mind unable to formulate thoughts about anything but him and his hot kisses trailing your neck, sharp teeth nibbling on your flesh.

"that's my name, pretty." he sings, wet tongue coming out to lick a fat stripe up your collarbone, it's all too much to your poor little head – and pussy. everything is foggy, you can only focus on your boyfriend before you, legs spreading wider to give him more room between them. your hips move on their own, grinding against shidou's thighs and oh, he loves it so much, how desperate you get for him everytime he kisses you on the right spots, the shy whimpers in that sweet voice of yours are music to his ears, he wants to consume every single part of you, fill your brain with him and only him – as if he needed to.

his lips leave burning spots on your skin when he pulls away, knee pressing further onto your drooling cunt as his large hands grab your sides, a squeal erupting from your throat and your fingers grip shidou's shirt, watery eyes staring at his devious ones.

"quit teasing, ryu." his antics bring a pout to your swollen lips, he can't help but snicker at your cute face – makes him want to totally rail you.

"no need to say twice, darling." and suddenly he's pushing you against the mattress, fingers hooking on the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs and into his pocket – but not before sniffing them heavily. oh, he's such a pervert.

his digits plunge into your pleading hole without any time for you to get used to it, you can only moan in response at the way they stretch you out, your thighs lock around his wrists, earning a smirk from him before he pries them open, watching the way your greedy cunt swallow his thick digits.

"ryu–! ryu!" his name feels like a mantra on your tongue, he's just fingering and prepping you but it already feels so deep, his skilled fingers have no trouble in finding that spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking up, the way he's thumbing at your little clit, rough pad adding to your pleasure as you slowly fall apart before him.

"gonna cum already, honey bun?" his teasing tone goes straight to your core, you try and whine in retaliation but shidou knows you love it, your cunt getting impossibly wetter tells him you do. the squelching sounds of his fingers dragging against your sensitive walls are quite embarrassing – for you, at least. because your boyfriend thinks it's one of the hottest things his ears have ever been graced to hear, your cute, desperate pussy so wet for him it literally soaks his palm.

his face comes down to your breasts level, his hot tongue poking at one of your perky nipples before placing the wet muscle flat on it, lips wrapping around your soft flesh and sucking the hard bud into his mouth, the squeal you let out at the extra stimulation is so adorable he feels his dick nearly exploding.

when he pulls away from your mound, there's a string of saliva connecting his lips to your slick nub – so sensitive that the mere breeze of his breath against it makes your body twitch and a whimper escapes you. your skin burns under the boy's tongue licking up your collarbone, neck and jaw before reaching your cheek, leaving a trail of spit all over you, it feels nasty – and it makes your head spin.

you can barely process your surroundings, all the thoughts that aren't related to your boyfriend vanishing from your mind like steam, you can only think about how good his fingers make you feel, how they fill you up so well and reaches all those spots inside you that your smaller hands can't, it's like your whole body is on fire, toes curling on the mattress and thighs quivering, threatening to close but the tall man hovering over you won't let them. the coil in your stomach only tightens and tightens, you know it's about to snap at any time now, and if you do, shidou does too – you can tell by the way his thrusts speed up, fucking his fingers into your fluttering hole at an inhumane pace – because of course, that's what he's; a demon luring you into his sweet temptation.

his hand grabs your face harshly, smushing your cheeks together to force your lips into a pout, your eyes opening as you stare at him with tears pooling on them, wetting your lashes and he swears he could cum untouched, right then and there, just by watching your face twisting in such hot expressions.

his tongue itches to be inside your mouth, tasting and consuming you entirely, claiming your body and soul as his – again, as if he needed to. his lips are on yours in a blink of an eye, sharing a bruising kiss and you can only moan when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging you to part them open and let him explore the depths of your mouth, his tongue licking against yours makes it so messy and dirty, spit running down your chin and leaking from the corner of your lips.

at this point your brain has already turned into mush, you're drunk and dumb on the pleasure he's giving you, unable to even kiss him back, all you can do is mewl loudly against his lips. your senses are filled with shidou ryusei and only him, you don't realize when you raise your leg up and your foot presses down on his growing bulge, earning a whimper from the man above you.

"heh, playing dirty now aren't we, sweets?" he mumbles, lips swollen and shiny brushing against yours as he speaks, tone giving away how much he yearns for you.

your desperation is so palpable he can taste it, your nails scratch his biceps to try and ground yourself when his wrist touches your denied clit along with his fingers pinching your nipple, shock waves running through your whole body making it tremble, your back arching off the bed when it gets too much for you to handle, the tight knot in your stomach loosening up and you cum so hard your vision goes white for a moment, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“that's it, make a mess for me.” his voice affects you like some kind of spell, your cunt gushing out more and more of your cum onto his palm, the bedsheets already soaked with your fluids only getting wetter and wetter as shidou keeps fucking his fingers into your hole, helping you to ride out your orgasm. “you're so fucking hot.”

the praise rolls off his tongue smoothly, going straight to your core and making you desperate for more of him, a whine ripping your throat at the sudden emptiness when he pulls his fingers out, you have no time to calm down from your high before your walls clench and beg for more, your brain not even considering that you might just break when it tells your lips to move and speak up, words leaving you so naturally.

"m–more, ryu…” your voice comes out strangled and laced with desperation, shidou's lips stretching in a wide smirk as his tongue darts out to lick them, contemplating the state you find yourself in – cheeks stained by dried tears, lips slightly parted as you try and catch your breath, eyes staring at him so sparklingly and so needy, pupils blown out and gaze overflowing with lust when yet again your foot presses down on his bulge. "wan' feel you inside."

oh, who's he to deny such a request? in one swift motion he's pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight of his huge cock standing tall and proud, leaky tip looking so inviting and seeming to be calling and telling you to wrap your lips around it.

you lift your upper body off the bed, supporting on your elbows as your eyes literally ogle over your boyfriend's dick, cunt drooling and clenching around nothing feeling so empty, craving to be filled to the brim with his gooey cum.

shidou is pleased by your reactions, staring at him so dumbly and without a single thought in your head, just him and his stupidly huge cock that could easily rip you open – and it seems to be exactly what you want.

so that's what he does, hands holding your waist and hoisting you up so easily it reminds you of how bigger than you he's, how he could overpower you without any fight and literally manhandle you – just like he's doing now. in an blink of an eye he's seated down on the mattress, facing your back as you're on top of him, your fluttering pussy hovering over his sensitive tip as both of your eyes set on the mirror in front of you.

you take a few seconds to look at yourself, your skin is covered up in hickeys from your neck to your breasts – a beautiful work of art in ryusei’s opinion; lips swollen and eyes puffy from the previous tears, your hair a little disheveled and inner thighs shining with your arousal. then you move to check your boyfriend and you swear you almost cum just from the sight, his own thighs apart in a manspreading as he supports his weight with one hand on the bed, wide chest in full display – you don't even know when he took his shirt off – and that intoxicating gaze in his eyes staring directly at you, his huge frame making you look even smaller compared to him.

with shaky hands, you reach for his knees to steady yourself, eyes catching through the mirror the exact moment when shidou holds your waist with one of his hands, the other lining his dick with your entrance and you bite down on your lip in anticipation, his words giving away how eager he's.

“c’mon, hurry up and sit.” he lowers your body onto him, both of you hissing at the contact of his leaky, fat tip with your slippery cunt, even after all his preparation and the ridiculous amount of lubrication dripping down your thighs, your hole still flutters and clenches around him trying to accommodate his sheer size and you need a few seconds to get used to the stretch, you can't help the few tears pricking the corner of your eyes at how good it feels to be filled up, that familiar sensation of fullness hitting you and you're ready to start moving but then there's more.

you look down to where you two are connected, only to be met with a few inches of your boyfriend's dick still out, your pussy all stretched around him and yet there's more to go in. it can't be true, your eyes must be betraying you because you can't believe it, of course you've had him all the way in and of course you knew how massive he's but you've never tried this position – and it's ridiculous how impossibly deeper he can reach in it. your hands fly to grab his, holding onto them as you try to stop him from sinking you further down.

“w–wait, ryu.” your eyes meet through the mirror, there's clearly a scoff on his face as he stares at you with one raised brow, you can feel the way his cock is pulsating against your walls and how much he's holding back to not just fuck you dumb already. your next remark blooms a proud smirk on his lips. “you're too big! ‘s not gonna fit…”

“‘course i am, pretty. gonna make it fit and y’gonna take it like you always do, yeah?” he teases, guiding your hips to meet his pelvis and literally splitting you open on his cock, you scratch at his forearms, wiggle your ass trying to escape from his vice grip on your waist, whine for him to wait and that “‘s too much, can't take it!” and squirm restlessly on his lap but none of these seem to stop him. he sinks you further and further down, your walls squeezing impossibly tighter around his shaft and making it no easy for him. “shit, loosen up a little f’me baby.”

you can't even make out his words, it's like you're being torn apart by his dick but god, it's amazing, the feeling too overwhelming for you to understand anything. it feels like he's in your ribs when he finally bottoms out, it feels hard to breath, a sigh making its way through his lips as he gives you an experimental thrust, watching how you'll react – but you're too light headed to complain, getting only to whine his name, head thrown on his shoulder.

his eyes trails down your limp body through the mirror, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a bulge on your belly. his fat tip rests against your cervix, you can feel the way his cock twitches and can't understand why until his fingers apply some pressure on your tummy, you whimper and immediately look down to where he's pressing, only to be met with the skin of your stomach slightly distended trying to accommodate your boyfriend's girth, and you feel dizzy.

“ehe, pussy so tiny it can barely take my dick.” he growls in your ear when your cunt starts clenching uncontrollably around him, but you can't help it. it's how he said, his cock is so huge that your pussy can't take all of it without a bulge forming on your stomach, your mind is all fogged up and you don't stop your hips from lifting before letting them down, starting to ride him lazily.

a proud, wide smirk appears on shidou's lips as he watches you struggling to move on his dick, your hands holding onto his knees to balance yourself, your arousal all over his strong thighs with how you're humping him. and you're being so damn loud, desperate moans overflowing your mouth because surprisingly it's not enough. not his dick – no, you've never felt so full in your life, but you can't seem to do it right, trying desperately to make him hit the right spot inside you.

shidou, however, is delighted, eyes fixed on how your pussy swallows him whole, your fluids forming a white ring around his base and soaking his balls, your frustrated cries reaching his ears and you sound so cute, he can't end it just now.

it doesn't take too much for you to grow tired, thighs giving out from trying and pleasure yourself, your body laying back and resting on ryusei's chest as you start to hump him pathetically, gaze finding his on the mirror and you mewl for his help, clenching your walls around his pulsating shaft and trying to convince him to fuck you.

and you look so vulnerable like this, grinding against his crotch like a bitch in heat and whining his name so helplessly, he's going crazy – feral, insane. with a sudden urgency, he's hooking his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up to your chest and exposing your stuffed pussy, his fingers gripping tightly on your thighs as he literally ogles your abused hole spamming around his length – the bulge on your tummy even more notorious now.

"woah, what a privileged view we've got here, don't y’think, sweets?" he whistles, bouncing your body experimentally on his cock and almost losing his mind with how easy he can move you, using your pussy like his personal fleshlight.

"shi– shidou–!” you yelp at his actions, feeling too ashamed to look at his face, the way he's holding you up against him with your legs wide open, cunt on full display for his hungry eyes, mirror reflecting the way his dick stretches you so well, your toes curl in the air as you paw at his hands – that's not what you meant when you asked for his help. "w–wait, ryu, this is embarrassing–!”

he doesn't listen to you – he never does. ignoring the way your nails scratch his skin, he starts bouncing you more fervorously, lifting your little frame off his cock – only the tip in – before slamming you down again, then repeating again and again and again. he's acting like an animal already, panting and grunting at your gummy, warm and tight walls rubbing against him so well, it's like you're trying to milk him with how much you're clenching, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips along with a few whimpers whenever his tip hits either your cervix or that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars – the spot that only his massive dick can reach.

there's not a single thought on your head aside from how well shidou is fucking you, using your body as he pleases like you're a ragdoll, made with the only intention of pleasuring him, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes are trained on the mirror – more specifically, on the dick going in and out of your hole in a inhumane pace.

oh, and shidou thinks you look so sexy like that. your face contorting in pleasure, spit dripping from your loosen tongue and eyes clouded with lust, you're unable to even formulate a phrase, only incoherent whimpers coming from your lips – completely drunk and dumb on his cock. “look at you, fucked dumb on my dick already, letting me use you as my cocksleeve, so small and so nasty.”

your nails dig into his biceps’ flesh, using them as some kind of leverage as he literally rails your pussy, you feel like you're about to melt under his touch with the way his tip hits your sweet spot over and over and over again, lazy eyes watching how the bulge on your tummy disappears before reappearing whenever he sinks you down.

it feels so good, to be manhandled, overpowered, left helpless with the only option of taking it, you're on the verge of tears and your throat is sore from moaning so loud but you can't help it when wave after wave of pleasure runs through your veins, the feeling is so overwhelming yet so amazing, you feel so damn full yet you don't want shidou to ever pull out, walls clamping down on his length furiously like your pussy is trying to get every single drop of him – and it's.

he growls and moans at the feeling, a smirk reaching his lips as even dirtier thoughts crowd his mind. he wants to make a mess of you, fill you up with his cum and spurt his seed so deep in your womb to claim you as his, marking you in every possible way as a sign that you belong to him, and your cunt belongs to where it rightfully is – being pounded by his cock.

“a–ha, such a dirty little thing, aren't you? so fuckin’ tight sweets, gonna make me cum so hard.” he's licking at your tears, biting your earlobe and whispering such nasty things against it, he seems to be on a mission of making you lose your mind – and he knows that he already succeed on it. “gonna fill you up so good, make you cum all over my cock, y’want that don't you?”

it's insane. the way he's pushing your knees together, one arm looping under them to hold you against his chest and he's holding you with just one arm, his free hand sneaking between your thighs to rub harsh circles on your neglected clit – and you nearly explode. “so good, so good, it's so good!” is all you can think, he's thrusting his hips up to meet yours and bouncing your body up and down, you can feel the way his dick is pulsating and how every single vein on it rubs so deliciously against your gummy walls, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your nub so fervently and it's all too much.

the knot inside you snaps and your toes curl in the air, your head thrown back on your boyfriend's shoulder when you cum on his dick, a long moan leaving your lips and your mind is blank, unable to process anything but the way your orgasm hits you.

“that's it baby, cum all you want, y're so hot.” you barely understand what he's saying, still lost in cloud nine due to your climax, slowly riding it out as you calm down, but shidou doesn't falter on his moves, hips still slamming into your ass and thumb still rubbing your clit – though it's a more feather touch this time. you whine and writhe in his grip, slurred cries about it being too much but he's not listening, he never is. “keep crying pretty thing, my dick’s gonna explode.”

he's a freak, you feel your whole body on fire as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the squelching sounds so louder now you've came, your body going up and down easier and you're so sensitive, even the tiniest thing is enough to make you snap yet once more – in this case, shidou's palm giving your clit a light slap. your eyes roll back to your skull behind your eyelids, your sore throat unable to make any sound but a high-pitched cry, legs shaking uncontrollably and your ears going deaf for a second when you squirt.

your cum drenches everything – shidou's arms, his thighs, your thighs, the sheets, even the mirror gets dirty with a few drops, you're truly making a mess, and ryusei loves it so much, he's brought over the edge as well, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting in your core.

he moans in your ear like a whore, dick throbbing and twitching as he blows his load inside you, it's so much it nearly bloats your stomach, some of it leaking from your hole as he keeps moving you up and down.

“y–eah, so damn hot sweets, gon’ knock you up, breed this pussy real good ‘till i’m satisfied.” he knows you're not listening, watching through the mirror how your body writhes in his arms as you try to ride out your orgasm, it's so intense and the way his hot cum is filling you up doesn't help at all, you feel so overstimulated that you can't even open your eyes, seeming to be on the verge of passing out, lips dumbly murmuring your boyfriend's name.

"uh uh, don't sleep on me now, pretty face, we're not done yet." when he finally pulls out, it's a true mess. his sticky cum is flooding from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and onto his along with your own fluids, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he takes a few seconds to fully admire it, before laying back on the mattress with you on top. he lines his dick with your entrance yet again, teasing voice breaking your subspace walls as he thrusts up, shoving all of his size in you with one swift motion. "gotta breed this pussy a few more times to make sure you're nice and full.”

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou smut #ㅤ𔘓 – my works...!

1K notes · View notes

cilliansmesoftly · 1 year ago

Text

chase it

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader

summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?

warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?

his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?

he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.

the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.

tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.

“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”

“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?

“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”

“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.

“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.

if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.

if you feel it, chase it.

he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.

“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”

tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.

you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.

“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.

“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.

tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.

“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.

“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.

“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.

“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.

“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”

“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.

“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.

“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.

“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.

“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”

“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”

“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.

“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.

“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”

“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”

“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”

“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.

“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.

you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.

“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.

“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”

you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.

“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.

“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”

“okay.” you nodded.

“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”

you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.

“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.

you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”

“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”

“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”

you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”

you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.

“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.

“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.

“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.

he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.

he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.

“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.

“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”

“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.

“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”

“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”

“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”

“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.

the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”

“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.

“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”

“i’m yours.” you mumbled.

“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”

you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.

“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.

“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.

the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.

“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.

“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”

“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”

“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”

“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”

“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”

“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.

the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.

the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.

“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.

“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.

“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.

“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”

“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.

“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”

“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”

“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”

you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”

the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.

#spotify #glen powell #glen powell imagine #glen powell smut #twisters #twisters movie #tyler owens #anyone but you #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin #lana del rey #lana del ray aesthetic #born to die #hollywood

2K notes · View notes

padmespetal · 4 months ago

Text

my love mine all mine — bruce wayne

synopsis: the weight of loving a man like him.

word count: 984

warnings: none, mentions of blood

note: my first fic i’m posting <33 sorry if there are mistakes english is not my first language i used a bale batman picture but you can imagine any version of bruce you want, hope you enjoy reading !! 🤍

Everyone always says you are so lucky to be Mrs. Wayne.

They say it in whispers behind champagne glasses at charity galas, in the sharp-edged comments of online forums dissecting your every move, in the glossy spreads of magazines that parade you like a prize.

They say it like a mantra, like an undeniable truth—because to them, you are the woman who won.

The tabloids adore you. Or rather, they adore picking you apart.

They scrutinize every dress you wear, every way you style your hair, the minute fluctuations in your weight as if it were a stock market chart. Did you gain a pound? Lose two? Was that diamond bracelet new, or just an old piece resurfaced to keep up appearances?

The public treats you like a living exhibit, a fragile doll encased in glass, standing at the side of Gotham’s most infamous bachelor-turned-husband.

No one thought it would last.

Bruce Wayne, the Bruce Wayne, had been through more relationships than anyone could count.

Women entered his orbit and just as quickly disappeared, leaving behind only the fading scent of expensive perfume and speculation in the tabloids.

He was a playboy. A heartbreaker .

The kind of man who could smile just right, make you feel like you were the only woman in the world—only for you to wake up one morning and realize you’d just been another name on his list.

And yet.

You had to be different, didn’t you? Because somehow, against all odds, against the expectations of an entire city, you weren’t just another chapter in his book. You were the last page.

But no one ever talks about what it actually means to be Mrs. Wayne.

They don’t know about the weight of it, the exhaustion, the sharp edges that come with the soft silks and diamonds.

They don’t see the sleepless nights spent staring at the clock, waiting for him to come home—wondering if this will be the night he doesn’t.

They don’t see the way your hands shake as you press them against his bloodied skin, patching him up in the dim light of your bedroom, biting back the tears because you knew what you signed up for.

Because crying never stopped him from going back out there.

They don’t see the fights, either. The yelling that ricochets off the walls of Wayne Manor like gunfire, your voice raw from screaming at him because how dare he be so reckless—because does he not realize what he’d leave behind if he didn’t come back?

“You don’t get to be careless,” you had shouted once, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You don’t get to act like your life doesn’t matter.”

And Bruce—stoic, unshakable Bruce—had just stared at you, jaw tight, breathing heavy, as if he wanted to argue. As if he wanted to tell you that Gotham came first. But the words never left his lips.

Because Gotham might be his city, but you—you and the messy, complicated family you built together—you were his home.

Everyone thought it was impossible for him to let someone in. Even he thought so.

Batman never thought he’d find someone who could understand.

He had learned the hard way that loving him was dangerous. He had been burned before. He had loved and lost, and he had told himself that it was better—safer—to be alone. And for a long time, he believed it.

There was Selina, of course.

The woman who had come closer than anyone else before you. The one he almost, almost married. But they were fire and ice, drawn together by their similarities yet always breaking apart because of them. They wanted too much from each other—too much change, too much compromise, too much that neither of them could ever truly give.

But you…

You weren’t like the others.

You didn’t fall for the mask. You weren’t enamored by the money, the power, the legacy of the Wayne name. You didn’t flinch at his darkness. You saw him—not just the billionaire, not just the vigilante, but him.

And that terrified him.

You saw through the careful facade, through the charming smiles and effortless grace, through the masks he had perfected over decades of hiding.

He tried to push you away. Oh, how he tried.

But you were persistent. Stubborn. You told him you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d rather walk through fire with him than live a life without him.

“You’re a fool,” he had told you once, voice low, rough.

“And you love me for it,” you had whispered back.

He married you months later.

So yes, being the new Mrs. Wayne was glamorous.

It was champagne-filled nights at high society events, breathtaking gowns, luxurious vacations, and a life most people could only dream of.

But it was also bruises hidden under expensive fabrics, exhaustion masked by perfectly applied makeup, whispered arguments behind closed doors.

It was being Batmom to the family of misfits and broken souls he had adopted along the way—learning to navigate the chaos of a home filled with vigilantes, each carrying their own wounds and ghosts.

It was being the one person who could ground Bruce, the one who reminded him that he was more than his mission, more than the cowl, more than the trauma he carried like a second skin.

It was waiting up at night, staring out at the city skyline, waiting for the Bat-Signal to disappear—because that meant he was coming home.

It was waking up to the sound of him slipping into bed beside you at dawn, his body aching, his mind heavy, but his arms pulling you close like he needed you to breathe.

It was love, in all its messy, painful, beautiful glory.

So let them talk. Let the tabloids speculate, let the world watch and judge and never understand.

Because they’ll never know what it truly means to be Mrs. Wayne.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

tags:

932 notes · View notes

limerlove · 5 months ago

Text

❝ FWB!ABBY HEADCANONS ❞

word count: 2k+

content warning. eighteen+, minors dni, strap!sex, scissorcity, just a lot of p*rn written out, but omgee i'm writing foir abby again? am i returning home? me saying that when all my long fics are about a certain pink-haired butch.

masterlist.

fwb!abby who is a star-athlete, potentially a hockey player because c’mon, look at her. it starts right before the end of last season. there used to be a trio, three girls who grew up together, forever inseparable. but with a nasty fall out of abby’s break up with your best friend — you picked a side. not that anyone would believe you, but it was innocent. purely innocent.

fwb!abby who keeps you close throughout the breakup, she leans on you when she emotionally breaks, when she doesn’t want to be alone; you’re right there for her. ready to help her in whatever way you can. maybe it was naive of you to expect it to be nothing more and it’s exactly how you end up here — abby’s hand shoves down your skirt as she presses you against the locker room right after the most important game of the season. it could be how good your ass looked in the soft fabric, she couldn’t help herself.

“mhm, how long have you been thinking about this?” gently, abby asks. “pretty girl, wanna have your fill so bad, huh?”

all she does is tease. it’s all abby wants to do, pull those god-given moans from your lips and your whines are nothing but a symphony to her ears. but all of this is very wrong. in your bones, with every pint of blood pumping to your veins, it feels like something forbidden. even if you aren’t friends anymore, even if she hates you for siding with abby, you can’t help but love the way she strokes your puffy lips with a flick of her wrist.

you groan as she slips a single finger inside you, whining at the welcomed intrusion. abby knows this is a slippery slope as much as you, maybe even more. it’s not lost on her what would happen if anyone were to find out, but especially your ex-best friend were to find out you loved getting fucked by her ex.

“shut up and fuck me, yeah? you don't need to know any of that—” you shriek as she slips another inside you, effectively stretching you out as she pumps your slick, back into you as it drips over her fingers like fresh honey.

“what was that, princess?” abby tilts her head to the side as she presses on your clit with the pad of her thumb.

“nothing, i—”

“hm, right. i guess the rumors are true.”

“what rumors?”

abby doesn’t provide any response as she fucks you into the stars, each thrust of her fingers effectively shutting you up from saying anything else. as you cry out for a release, she places deliberate kisses along your neck, her hot breath swarms goosebumps along your skin as your hips buck into her body.

“heard a few…one from your roommate in particular.”

oh fuck.

the little shit knows.

“what did you, f-fuck, hear?” abby chuckles when you can’t keep your thoughts straight. you’re close and she knows it as well when she presses her lip to your ear, it’s intentional, the cocky little shit knows just what you like.

the first time she’s touched you and you’re already melting in her warm and needy hands.

the sultry tone in her voice will haunt you whenever you sleep, you’ll see her in your dreams, those taunting pair of blues, the scarred cheek you love but she hates. when she says the words you fear, for some reason it sends you over the edge.

“i heard you like moaning my name when you get yourself off, so why don’t you put on a show for me, princess?”

fwb!abby who thinks about you, slumped against the lockers trying to catch your breath. the mantras of her name don’t leave her mind, how pathetic did it make her she couldn’t stop thinking of you. how you couldn’t escape her mind, even during practice, those stupid whimpers wouldn’t leave her. her mind can’t escape that night, the endorphins pounding her skull as she fucked you into oblivion. the secret you held close to your heart raw and exposed as you released over her pumping fingers — it all felt a little too real. a little too perfect.

fwb!abby who tries to play it cool whenever you’re around. abby knows it’s her best shot of forgetting what happened, slipping back into normalcy. but what she doesn’t expect? how jealous she feels when she sees you chatting up one of her teammates. she suspects you might be doing the same, trying to find a distraction, anything and anyone to stop your mind from thinking of it. it’s the secret she holds close to her as she deciphers on why her blood couldn’t seem to stop boiling. she hadn’t been this possessed, the need for her sweet salvations to be found on each roll of her tongue. it’s agony as she watches you leave with them, but she just sips on her beer, calling it night at the same time as you. but her sheets will be ice while yours will be kept especially warm.

the first thought entering your mind, this isn’t as good. she doesn’t touch you the way abby did, fuck, this girl’s mouth is eager to devour you, every drop not being wasted but you just pretend it’s abby. even if you feel slimy, a bit dirty, but it gets you where you need to be.

when you ride the plastic cock, invisioning abby holding your hips, guiding them as you slide down and fuck yourself, chasing the high she gave you just a few weeks ago but you see golden-waves flowing on your navy-blue cotton sheets. your mind drifts to how the blue in the sheets would bring out abby’s eyes, how she might look up at you while you fuck her like it’s your right to.

as if she belongs to you.

the more you think of her, the easier it becomes to find your release, it comes to you quickly as you moan; you chase the high. but it still doesn’t feel as good as last time — not when you don’t have her whispering in your ear. telling you just how much you need it, whispering your dirty secrets like an oath. a string for her to pull, only one tug needed until you come apart for her like it’s the only purpose you have in life; you’re just here to please abby anderson.

fwb!abby who doesn’t see you for a week straight. you’re avoiding her with all of you might. even going as far as missing one of her games which you never do. it pisses her off to no end and the final straw is her teammate talking about how much the two of you can’t stop fucking. yeah, god, she’s so perfect. sweetest i've ever tasted. it’s said in passing, quietly to one of her friends, not meant for abby. slamming the locker form, she sets her sights on you. she’s ending whatever the fuck this is.

the knock on your door is harsh, spinning you out of your thoughts as you open the door to find her completely outraged. abby might as well be a bull with her nostrils flared, puffing out smoke as she only sees through a tunnel vision of red. you know why she’s upset, and you’re sure she’s heard about just who you have been spending your time with, making this all the more messy.

“ashton? fucking ashton?” abby burls straight past the entrance, shoulder checking you in the process.

“why does it matter if it’s her? or anyone? why do you care all of a sudden?” you go back to cleaning, as if you don’t have a very enraged woman standing in front of you. you try not to think of her sweet vanilla scent mixed with mahogany. the way she filled you up perfectly.

“i don’t care.” abby nods as she showcases a bitter smirk.

fwb!abby who has you pinned against the wall with her strong frame, pelvis pressed against hers, still sweaty from practice as she has you pinned against the wall. you’re not sure who kissed first, who grabbed the other closer, but she has you turned around, fingers plunging knuckle deep as she reminds you of that night. writhing against her as she whispers in her ear, “next time you crawl in her bed, remember this, when she’s failing to make you come apart. remember how easy it is for me.”

fwb!abby who brings you back to her apartment. her lips pull the air from your lungs, suffocating you but lighting you ablaze. like a lioness when she paws at you, nearly ripping your closes to shreds with the claws she has buried in you so deep. abby is cocky about it as you pull off her clothes just the same, desperate, needy — with a angelic glint in your eyes she’ll have nightmares about.

“princess, it will stay between us. alright?” abby groans as her baby blue dildo slips inside you. watching her defined abdomen clenched as she pushes, fully tilted inside you. “promise.”

another secret to holster, keeping close enough to keep but not close enough where it would seep into your skin, surely to infect whatever she so craved to do. you expect everything to be a little rough, a means to an end — just a way for the both of you to fuck this out of your system — but abby’s delicate. doing her best not to completely lose it.

you feel full as she hesitates to move, watching your face contort in divine pleasure, the way you try to move your hips, but her hands keep you in place for a moment longer.

“baby, please, shit i need your—” a groan leaves your mouth as abby moves, thrusting her cock inside you.

“yeah, you need it, princess?”

it feels condescending, the stupid pet name is being thrown at you as a way to incite raw need, to instill such a primal emotion, and you feel it stirring the pits of your stomach. with each heartbeat, your chest flutters.

your mind shuts off, all the worries that infect your mind like a disease, every reason that tells you this is a god-awful, terrifyingly horrible idea. there’s too many webs, you’re bound to be trapped up in her, with no way to come out of it. it’s the only truth settled within your soul but then she’s fucking you. it’s hard but slow.

she’s taking her time, building you up so she has you right towards the edge. all you do is wrap your legs around her, bringing her close to you, her temple kissing yours as she loses herself inside you. it’s all more than you expected, quiet whimpers echo in her bedroom, her sanctuary she’s coaxed you into.

“you look so hot taking my cock, pretty girl. fuck, it’s like it was made just for you but i have an appetite for something else.”

you whimper as abby removes herself and the harness secured on her hips, until you feel her blonde bush and aching lips slide over yours. the woman above you can’t help but chuckle as your eyes roll back into your skull, a leg thrown over her toned shoulder as she slides perfectly against you.

“you—” you gasp as she pushes her hips faster, you have no choice but to buck against her. “a-abs, oh shit, oh my fucking god.”

quickly, you’re losing it as abby is being loud. “right in front of me all this time, fuck!”

almost comes across as animalistic as she grunts, fucking your faster than anyone ever has, you’re so close when she grips your chin, demanding you to open. sliding her fingers inside of your mouth as you suck off your cum. effectively shutting you up in the process.

“yeah, it’s too much, huh? are you sure you can take it, princess?” you nod your head as one thrust sends you over the end, your body twitching as you come. she soothes you through it, whispering your name over and over in your ear and it goes straight to your cunt. it’s too much but she eventually stops but you still feel her against you. everything becomes sticky and warm.

the blunt of her nails begin to scrape lightly over the skin of your abdomen, enjoying how much your body twitches. you’re sensitive and abby chuckles.

“whenever you wanna fuck princess, just give me a call.” and after, she whispers so quietly you almost miss it, “i’ll gladly make this pussy mine any day of the week.”

#ᝰ . . 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ٜ̥ .ྀི #(ᝰ.ᐟ) tlou works.#i’m backkkkkk #abby is calling me home chat #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson tlou2 #fwb!abby

872 notes · View notes

edenesth · 6 months ago

Text

The Paradox of Us

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Relationships are rarely as simple as they seem. It becomes heartbreakingly complicated when two souls, bound by a love that still burns bright, come to realise that sometimes, love alone may not be enough to keep them together.

A/N: Seonghwa's 踊り子 (odoriko) cover has been on repeat since the moment it came out. I couldn't get it out of my mind and just knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't write anything inspired by it.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"I don't love you."

Strangely, those words would have been easier to bear. But instead, you heard the ones that shattered you in ways you never thought possible: "I love you so much... but we can't go on like this anymore."

The ache was unbearable, as if your heart was tearing itself apart with every replay of his broken voice in your mind. You would have preferred if he had said his love had faded, that the spark was gone. At least then, you could grieve, accept, and move forward. But no—he still loved you. Deeply. And that cruel truth left you stuck in a purgatory of emotions, unable to let go.

Yet, you understood him. You always did. And perhaps that was the most painful part of all—knowing he was right. You had felt it too, this growing divide neither of you could bridge. But you hadn't been brave enough to say it aloud, to admit that love wasn't enough to hold together two people who simply weren't meant to be.

So, he said it for you. And now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been, and the love that would never quite fade.

"It'll be alright, sweetie. Time heals everything," your mother murmured, her hand gently rubbing your back as you blinked away tears and refused to meet her gaze. Her tone was soft, even comforting, but you couldn't stand it—not when she sat there pretending she hadn't played a pivotal role in this heartbreak. You could almost feel her satisfaction simmering beneath the surface, hidden behind her facade of concern. After all, hadn't she always believed he would never measure up? That he was never good enough for you?

You hated it—hated her.

Hated how she had turned your relationship with him into a battlefield, her disapproval so loud, so ever-present, that it became impossible for him to feel at home in your life. How dare she sit beside you now, feigning sorrow, when her constant criticisms had planted the seed of doubt that grew into the conclusion you dreaded? How dare she, of all people, offer comfort when she had made you believe that love—your greatest love—wasn't enough?

Her words echoed in your mind, the ones she'd repeated time and time again: "Love and compatibility aren't the same. Love is powerful, yes, but relationships are more than just feelings—they require shared values, aligned goals, and practical compatibility." She had said it so often that it became a mantra, one you tried to ignore until it became impossible.

And then there was him.

You hated him too—hated him for giving in, for not fighting harder, for agreeing with everyone else. For being too selfless, too considerate, too good. He'd always told you, "Family comes first. Everything else—including me—comes second." You hated that he meant it. Hated that he let you go because he believed it was the right thing to do, the thing that would hurt the least.

But most of all, you hated yourself.

Hated yourself for knowing, deep down, that they were all right. That maybe love really wasn't enough. You hated yourself for being too afraid to defy them, too afraid to risk it all for him. While he was brave enough to let you go, and your mother was relentless in her convictions, you had been the coward. You let everyone else make the choice for you because you couldn't bear to make it yourself.

And now, you were left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of what-ifs and the haunting ache of knowing you had lost not because you didn't love enough, but because you hadn't been brave enough to fight for that love.

"The right person will come along," she said softly. You pressed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. Without another word, you pushed yourself up from the dining chair, leaving your barely touched meal behind, and headed to your room.

Before you could step through the door, her voice followed you, cutting through the air like a knife. "You'll thank me one day when you meet a man who can give you all the things that boy never could."

Your fists clenched as you slammed the door shut behind you. Sliding down to the floor with your back against the wood, you let her words fester. Maybe she was right. You weren't getting any younger. Around you, friends and cousins were all settling down with partners your mother would call 'suitable.' And you hated it—hated that, in her eyes, Seonghwa could never be that person for you.

But then, the thought struck: you were your mother's daughter. How much of this was truly her fault? At some point, hadn't you begun to believe her? Slowly, insidiously, her words had taken root in your mind. You did this. To him, to yourself.

You remembered watching others build their perfect, storybook lives with partners who ticked every box society demanded. And you wondered—quietly at first, then louder—if you and Seonghwa could ever achieve the same. Could he be that for you? Could you be that for him?

It wasn't fair. Not to him, not to you. You hated yourself for the way doubt crept in, for how your mother's voice echoed in your head, pointing out the cracks and differences you had tried so hard to ignore. You hated yourself for wishing things could be different, for swallowing those thoughts because you loved him too much to ask him to change. He was who he was—his own person.

How could you ask him to mould himself into someone your mother would approve of? Someone society deemed 'right' for you? And if he did, would he even be the man you fell in love with?

It was those questions, those doubts, that began to live rent-free in your mind. Bit by bit, they widened the gap between you. And Seonghwa wasn't blind. He saw it. He felt it.

"You deserve someone better—someone who can give you so much more," he had said that final night, his voice breaking under the weight of goodbye.

It was your fault—your doubts, your actions, your silence. They had pushed him to that conclusion. And now, as the door behind you trembled with your suppressed sobs, you wondered: How dare you blame your mother for what you had done to him? To yourself?

How dare you?

"Gaming at San's place next, you coming?" Wooyoung asked, tossing a napkin onto the table as everyone scrambled to leave. The ridiculous game they'd invented—where the last one to leave had to pay the bill—had everyone laughing and darting for the exit.

Seonghwa's smile barely touched his lips as he shook his head and reached for his wallet. "Go on with them. I'll cover it."

The younger man hesitated, glancing at him before blurting out, "Dude, you can't always give in like this. Your poor financial planning skills are exactly why she left you."

The table fell silent, the air suddenly heavy. Wooyoung's grin faltered as he realised what he'd said, too late to take it back. Seonghwa didn't flinch outwardly, but the words sliced deep because they were true. Partly, at least.

It wasn't like he made much, not compared to the rest of his friends with their steady corporate jobs. And yet, he wasn't careful with what little he had. You had always been the one saving, planning, building a future he could barely contribute to. People his age were buying cars, investing in property, making strides toward a stable life. But he wasn't like them. He had chased his passion as a figurine crafter—a dream that didn't come with a steady paycheck—and he'd known the risks. Your mother was right: you deserved someone who could offer you the stability he never could.

"Hey, man," Wooyoung said quickly, guilt colouring his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I got the bill already, so don't worry about it. Just come with us tonight, yeah? Relax a little."

But the eldest only gave a faint shake of his head. The apology didn't soften the truth of the remark. He was the reason things fell apart. Not because he didn't love you enough—he loved you too much—but because love wasn't enough.

He'd failed you. Failed to provide the kind of life you deserved. He couldn't believe you'd even agreed to be with him in the first place, so different were your worlds. Your family background, your education, your values, your ambitions—they all set you apart. He had nothing to offer someone like you. And yet, he had been selfish enough to hold on, to want you despite knowing he could never measure up.

He should have worked harder. Should have tried to step up and be the man you needed. But he hadn't, because deep down, he knew he couldn't. Perhaps he had always known it wouldn't last. That one day, you'd wake up and realise the same.

You didn't leave right away. You stayed longer than he deserved. And when you finally began pulling away, when the signs became impossible to ignore, he had to let go. It wasn't courage that made him end it—it was inevitability.

"Come with us, hyung," Wooyoung tried again, his voice gentler this time.

But Seonghwa shook his head once more. "You guys go ahead without me. I... I have somewhere to be."

It was a lie, and they all knew it. He had nowhere to be. Nowhere that mattered, at least. Just his empty apartment, where the echoes of your absence would greet him like old, familiar ghosts.

He didn't care if they saw through the lie. What mattered was that he deserved this—the loneliness, the self-pity, the regret. He had almost broken you apart from your family because he was selfish enough to believe his love was enough. He had almost stolen your future because he couldn't face the truth.

But now, it was over. You had given him the courage to do what was right in the end. He was grateful for that. Grateful you'd started pulling away. Grateful you'd given him the signs. Grateful you'd broken his heart with the words he couldn't bear to say himself.

It's time.

Time to stop pretending.

Time to let you go.

Time to let the misery end.

Yes, let it all go. Let the misery end.

He repeated the words in his head like a chant as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each mile. The familiar streets blurred past him, their lights shimmering in his tear-filled eyes. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming, warm and unrelenting. He hated himself for it. Hated that, even now, he could almost see you sitting beside him, your laughter echoing faintly in his memory.

These night drives had been your sanctuary. Just you and him, wrapped in the quiet of the world, as if nothing else mattered. Not the expectations, not the disapproving glances, not the relentless whispers about how you two didn't belong together. It had always been just you and him against everything.

But now, it was just him.

He didn't dare glance at the passenger seat. He couldn't bear the sight of its emptiness, couldn't face the truth of your absence. His mind played cruel tricks on him, filling the silence with phantom conversations, fleeting glimpses of your smile.

Everything around him reminded him of you. The way the streetlights hit the pavement, the faint smell of your favourite perfume lingering in his car, the songs on the radio you'd sing along to when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He wanted to escape it, but he knew going home would only make it worse.

Home.

The word felt hollow now. How could it be home when you weren't there? Every corner of that apartment held traces of you—the books you'd stacked neatly on the shelf, the coffee mug you always left on the counter, the sheets that still carried the faintest scent of your shampoo. He knew he should let those remnants go, pack them away, make it easier to move on. But the thought of erasing you felt like losing you all over again.

As the weight of it all pressed down on him, he slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. His hands trembled as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather grounding him for just a moment.

Is this hurting you too?

He wondered if you were struggling as much as he was. Part of him selfishly hoped you were, that you missed him the way he missed you. But another part—the part that loved you more than he loved himself—hoped you were finding peace. Hoped you were happier without him, that his decision to let you go had given you the chance to find the stability, the life, you deserved.

Clutching a hand to his chest, he finally let the tears fall freely. The ache in his heart felt unbearable, like a piece of him had been ripped away and might never grow back. Would he ever be okay again? Would he ever know happiness without you?

He didn't know.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. But he told himself, over and over, that this was the right thing to do. It didn't matter if he was happy. It didn't matter if he felt whole again. All that mattered was you. And as he sat there, broken and lost, he prayed you were finding the happiness he couldn't give you, even if it meant he would never find it again.

It's okay... she'll find the right person now.

The right person. Who even decided what that meant? Who had the authority to label someone as right or wrong for you?

Maybe it was the lingering ache for Park Seonghwa, the way his name still carried the weight of memories you hadn't yet learned to let go. Or maybe it was the frustration bubbling inside you, resentment toward your parents for tricking you into meeting this man—the son of your father's business partner—the one they couldn't stop praising.

Jung Yunho, the perfect man, as they called him. He was everything they'd ever wanted for you, a textbook example of stability, charm, and success. But the problem wasn't him. It was you. You weren't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever. Years had passed since the breakup, but the ghost of what you had with Seonghwa still clung to you, a shadow that even time couldn't chase away.

"Hey," Yunho's voice pulled you back from your spiralling thoughts. His gaze, warm and sincere, met yours as he leaned in slightly. "You feeling alright?"

Caught off guard, you glanced down at your untouched plate of steak and managed a small nod. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

But he didn't look convinced. Instead, his lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile—the kind that could probably disarm anyone, just not you. "How could I not, when such a pretty lady is sulking before me?" he teased gently. Before you could reply, he reached across the table, taking your plate without hesitation. "Here, let me help you."

With careful precision, he began cutting the steak into neat, bite-sized pieces. The gesture was so thoughtful, so kind, and yet it left you feeling hollow. It wasn't the act itself—it was the way it lacked the weight of familiarity.

Seonghwa used to do the same thing, but it had always been different with him. He'd grumble playfully about how you'd never learn to do it yourself, though he never minded doing it for you. His hands were smaller, more delicate, and you'd always find yourself staring at the faint scars from his crafts. Yunho's hands, while steady and practised, didn't hold the same history.

"All done," Yunho said cheerfully, sliding the plate back to you. "Now you have no excuse not to eat."

You forced a polite smile, murmuring a quiet "thank you" as you picked up your fork. Yunho didn't seem to notice the distant look in your eyes, or perhaps he was kind enough not to point it out.

He was wonderful. Thoughtful, patient, and sincere. By all accounts, he was the right person. But as you sat there, forcing yourself to chew, you couldn't help but wonder:

What if the right person wasn't the one who checked all the boxes? What if they were the one who didn't, but still felt like home?

The rest of the night crawled by like a snail, every passing second stretching unbearably long. You shifted in your seat, wishing you were anywhere but here. Yunho was a great guy—attentive, charming, and genuinely kind. But that only made it worse. He deserved someone who could meet his enthusiasm with equal fervour, someone who didn't have her mind wandering to someone else entirely.

You sighed quietly, pushing your barely touched drink to the side. What the hell was wrong with you? This was what you'd agreed to, wasn't it? This was what you'd sacrificed so much for. Years ago, you walked away from the love of your life because it felt like the right thing to do, to pursue the kind of stability and compatibility everyone insisted was more important than love alone. And now here it was, right in front of you.

The right person.

Yet, as you glanced at Jung Yunho's radiant smile, so effortlessly warm, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him felt less like the happy ending you'd envisioned and more like a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage that offered everything a woman could ever ask for—security, stability, admiration. Everything except the one thing your heart still longed for.

All you could ever find inside yourself was the same man you'd tried so hard to let go of.

Park Seonghwa.

Your chest tightened at the thought of him, your mind betraying you with memories you'd worked so hard to bury. You wondered how he was doing, though it wasn't as if you hadn't heard. Mutual friends kept you updated more than you cared to admit, their words painting glimpses of a life that no longer included you.

You'd heard he was finally making progress with his work, his passion—the very thing you'd once defended but later doubted. He'd opened a small store, modest but filled with so much of himself. It sold various collectable art pieces: action figures, miniatures for tabletop games, and custom character figurines crafted with meticulous care. Fans of Star Wars and Animal Crossing flocked to him, drawn to the detail and love that radiated from every piece he touched.

And you were proud of him. God, you were so proud of him.

He'd stayed true to himself, despite all the judgement, all the whispers about how he'd never make it, how he'd never be good enough. He'd proved them wrong. He'd built something meaningful, something entirely his own. You were happy for him, truly, but beneath that happiness lay an ache you couldn't ignore. You regretted not being there to witness it, to cheer for him when he finally achieved what he'd always dreamed of.

But maybe that wasn't what he wanted. For all you knew, he'd moved on, found someone who stayed by his side through all the highs and lows. Someone who loved him openly and without reservation, who didn't make him feel like he'd never measure up.

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sworn off love entirely after the way things ended between you two.

Either way, you couldn't blame him. You wouldn't blame him. Not after the pain you'd both endured.

Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Is... everything okay? You've been quiet tonight." His concern was genuine, his eyes soft with worry, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

But deep down, you knew you weren't fine. And you didn't know if you ever would be.

"How much for that one?"

The tiny voice drew Seonghwa's attention, and he glanced down at the little girl standing on tiptoes, her small finger pointing eagerly at the figurine encased behind the counter. It was the only one displayed under glass, like a prized treasure—and in a way, it was.

He hummed, his eyes softening as he turned to look at the figure in question. The Kuromi figurine sat proudly on the top shelf, right next to the LED sign that glowed softly with his store's name: Star Mars. The design was intricate, every detail was carefully crafted with love and precision.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "That one's not for sale. It's reserved for someone very special."

The little girl pouted, her lips forming a perfect curve of disappointment, and his heart melted a little. But no amount of adorable pouting—or even persuasive whining—could ever convince him to sell it.

That Kuromi figurine wasn't just a piece of art; it was a promise, a memory frozen in time. It was one of the first figurines he'd perfected, the culmination of years of practice and the relentless pursuit of his passion. He'd made it as a gift for you—his favourite girl.

It still is yours, if only you wanted it.

The child's father stepped forward, lifting her into his arms as he gave Seonghwa an apologetic bow. "Don't worry about her, Mr Park. I'll convince her to go with the Isabelle one instead."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, standing upright as he waved off the father's concern. "No problem at all. Isabelle's a great choice," he said, though his eyes lingered briefly on the Kuromi figurine.

As the father and daughter moved on to browse the other displays, Seonghwa found himself lost in thought. He didn't display that piece out of pride or for show—it was there because it reminded him of you. Of the nights you'd spend sitting cross-legged on the floor of his studio, playfully teasing him about his obsession with getting every detail just right.

"She looks like you," he'd said when he showed it to you for the first time. You'd laughed, brushing it off, but the glint of affection in your eyes told him you secretly loved the comparison.

He'd planned to give it to you on your birthday, but the timing never felt right. And then, before he knew it, you were gone.

The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound slicing through the haze of his thoughts and yanking him back to the present. He straightened up, plastering on the polite smile he reserved for customers, though the weight in his chest never eased.

"Good evening! Welcome to…" His voice faltered mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat as his entire world screeched to a halt.

There you were.

It had been years, but time seemed to melt away the moment his eyes landed on you. You stood there in the soft glow of his store lights, more beautiful than he remembered—if that were even possible. Your silk dress shimmered gently with each subtle movement, an elegant coat draped effortlessly over your shoulders. The once long hair he used to run his fingers through was now cropped to your shoulders, framing your face in a way that made you look older, wiser—but still you.

Even after all this time, his heart betrayed him. It thundered in his chest, each beat screaming your name. He clenched his fist tightly at his side, willing himself to stay rooted where he stood. Every fibre of his being ached to run to you, to close the distance, but he couldn't. He shouldn't.

Slowly, shakily, he mustered a smile, though it felt like his heart might burst from the sheer force of its racing. Then, to his astonishment—and heartbreak—you returned it. A soft, familiar curve of your lips that nearly undid him.

But then, it fell apart.

The moment shattered as a tall, striking man stepped in behind you. He moved with easy confidence, his presence commanding attention as if the universe itself had tilted slightly to make room for him. Without hesitation, his hand found its way to your shoulder, resting there with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

"See anything you like?" the man asked, his deep voice carrying the warmth of intimacy as he looked down at you.

You blinked, startled, as if shaken from a dream. "Oh… I was just…" Your voice trailed off as your gaze flicked back to your ex-boyfriend, lingering for a moment longer than it should have.

Seonghwa's smile faltered, but he quickly schooled his expression, burying the ache that clawed at his chest. He nodded politely, forcing himself to focus on the customer standing in front of him—the both of you.

The Kuromi figurine sat silently on its shelf, bathed in soft light, waiting for a moment that might never come. The air inside the store suddenly felt stifling. Seonghwa stood behind the counter, his hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Welcome to Star Mars," he said, his voice steady but his smile trembling under the weight of emotions. He forced it wider, hoping it would mask the whirlwind within. "It's been a while. How have you been?" His heart clenched as the words left his mouth. He wanted to sound casual, as though you were just another customer, but he couldn't. You weren't just anyone. You never had been.

You gave him a hesitant smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I've been good. How about you?"

Before he could answer, the man beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding warmth—stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "Oh, you two know each other? What a small world!" His voice was friendly, his smile sincere, and Seonghwa's chest tightened further.

He should feel relief. This man, presumably your boyfriend—or worse, your fiancé—seemed perfect for you. He was everything Seonghwa had wanted for you when he stepped away, believing he could never give you the life you deserved. And yet, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, this is Seonghwa. He's... an old friend of mine."

Old friend. The words landed like a punch to his stomach, but he kept his composure.

The man extended a hand toward him, his smile unwavering. "I'm Yunho. It's nice to meet you! Next time my nieces and nephews need new toys, I'll know who to come to."

Seonghwa took his hand, shaking it firmly while managing a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too." His gaze flickered back to you, catching the way you avoided meeting his eyes.

As if on cue, Yunho's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call. For the first time since you'd entered, the air felt heavy with unspoken words.

You turned back to your ex, your eyes meeting his briefly before dropping to the counter. "Congratulations... Seonghwa," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a fragile memory. "It's good to see how far you've come."

He nodded slowly, his smile softer now, though the ache in his eyes remained. "Thank you. And... congratulations to you as well," he said, glancing toward the window where Yunho stood. "He seems amazing."

The kindness in his tone made it hurt even more.

"No," you blurted, shaking your head. "He's not... we're just... friends. I don't..." Your words faltered, your voice trembling. "I'm not with anyone."

His brows lifted in surprise, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. You wished he'd say something, anything, but the way his eyes softened, brimming with a mix of emotions—relief, hesitation, and something deeper—was answer enough.

Your breath hitched when your gaze landed on the figurine behind him. Kuromi. Encased in glass, displayed on the highest shelf. You remembered the countless hours he'd spent perfecting it, the way he'd proudly shown you the finished piece.

He still kept it.

Before you could find the courage to ask why, Yunho reappeared, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hey, sorry to cut your little catch-up session short, but something urgent came up at work, and I—"

Seonghwa straightened, his polite smile snapping back into place. "Of course, don't let me keep you."

Your heart sank as he turned to you, bowing slightly. "It was nice seeing you again."

You forced a smile, though your chest ached with everything left unsaid. "It was nice seeing you too."

As you followed Yunho out, you couldn't resist glancing back one last time. Your eyes met Seonghwa's, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though a thousand words passed between you.

Regret. Longing. Love.

The bell above the door jingled again as you stepped out, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. Yunho was quiet as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence between you felt thick, almost suffocating, but you didn't know what to say. How could you explain the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you without sounding selfish or ungrateful?

"It's him, isn't it?" Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, soft but resolute.

Your head snapped toward him, your heart pounding in panic. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered, the guilt already clawing its way to the surface.

He sighed, pulling the car to a gentle stop in front of your home. Turning to face you, he gave you a small, knowing smile. "The man from the store. Park Seonghwa, right? He's the one you've been thinking about all night. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Your breath caught, your hands fumbling with the seatbelt as you tried to come up with a response. But the look in his eyes told you that lying wasn't an option. "I…" You paused, finally managing to unfasten the seatbelt, but your words seemed caught in your throat. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean for this to happen."

He leaned back with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I knew from the beginning that you weren't exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but I still went along with it, hoping… I don't know, that maybe something would change."

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "You deserve better than this," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Hey." He reached out, his hand covering yours with a comforting warmth. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "This… whatever this was supposed to be, it wouldn't have worked if both of us weren't fully in it. And that's okay. You know why?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. "Why?"

"Because this decision—choosing who you want to be with—it's for you, not for your parents, not for me, and certainly not for anyone else. It should never be about what people think or what they want. It's your life. Live it for yourself."

His words struck you like a bolt of lightning, unravelling years of self-doubt and regret. He was right. How had you allowed yourself to be swept up in everyone else's expectations, losing sight of what truly mattered to you?

You sat back in your seat, letting his words sink in, feeling a strange mix of guilt and liberation. After a long moment, you nodded, your voice steadier now. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."

He smiled, his eyes kind and understanding. "Go on," he said, tilting his head toward your house. "And don't let fear hold you back this time."

As you stepped out of the car, his words echoed in your mind, igniting a spark of courage you hadn't felt in years.

You turned back, watching as Yunho drove away, his figure disappearing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sliver of clarity.

It wasn't too late. You still had a choice to make. And this time, you'd make it for yourself.

The shop was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of paper as Seonghwa meticulously wrapped the Isabelle and Grogu figurines the pair of father and daughter finally agreed on getting. His movements were precise, his focus seemingly sharp, but his mind was elsewhere—stuck on the brief yet piercing encounter that had just walked out of his life again.

"That Kuromi one… it's for the pretty lady earlier, isn't it?"

The father's voice broke through Seonghwa's haze, and his hands froze briefly before resuming their task. He didn't look up, focusing instead on folding the edges of the wrapping paper with unnecessary care. "You might be right," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than intended. "But it doesn't matter if it is."

The man tilted his head, a subtle frown forming as he cradled his daughter closer. "And why's that? It clearly still means a lot to you both."

Seonghwa finally glanced up, forcing a polite smile, though it faltered almost immediately. "You saw it yourself... she's with someone else. Someone better." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, laced with a resignation he didn't quite believe in.

The man sighed, shifting the little girl in his arms so she could hold her new Grogu figurine. He regarded your ex with a look that felt far too knowing. "I also saw how she looked at you," he said softly. "And she didn't look like someone who's better off."

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, but the customer wasn't finished. His gaze drifted toward the cute purple figurine that was not for sale, and for a moment, his expression softened into something fragile—something etched with pain.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "my wife used to love Sanrio too. She had this little Cinnamoroll keychain she carried everywhere." He chuckled faintly, the sound bittersweet. "I always thought I'd have more time to make her smile, to give her the little things that made her happy. But time doesn't wait for anyone. One day, it was just… gone."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Seonghwa felt something tighten in his chest.

The man glanced at him then, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through Seonghwa's carefully built walls. "I don't know what's between you and her, Mr Park. But I do know this: regret is a heavy thing to carry. Don't let it weigh you down, not if you can still do something about it."

He gave Seonghwa a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of lessons learned too late, before taking the bag of purchased items. "Sometimes, all it takes is one step in the right direction. Don't let the chance slip away."

And then he was gone, the bell above the door jingling faintly as father and daughter disappeared into the night.

Seonghwa stood motionless behind the counter, his gaze drifting back to the Kuromi figurine in its glass case. The light reflected off it, casting faint shadows on the shelf behind it. It was meant for you. It had always been for you.

The father's words replayed in his mind, unrelenting in their simplicity and truth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on the figurine made just for you, but his thoughts were elsewhere—back to you, back to all the moments that had led to this one.

Back then, he'd convinced himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could find the happiness he didn't think he could give you. He thought he was being selfless, noble even, sacrificing his own heart so you could find someone better—someone who deserved you. But now, the cracks in that logic were glaringly obvious. What had any of this accomplished? Neither of you had found happiness in the way he'd hoped.

The truth was harsh: he hadn't even tried. He hadn't fought to be better for you, to grow into someone worthy of your love. Instead, he'd accepted the version of himself the world seemed to see—a man with dreams too small and ambitions too impractical. He'd let himself believe that you deserved someone like Yunho, someone who fit the mould of what your parents and society thought was 'right.'

But things were different now. He wasn't that man anymore. He'd worked hard, not for anyone else but for himself. Every step he'd taken to build his store, every figurine he'd crafted with his own hands, every small milestone he'd achieved—it was proof that he could create something meaningful. And if he could do that, maybe he could create a life with you.

His heart clenched at the thought of you with Yunho, not because he doubted the man's worth, but because he knew Yunho could never hold your heart the way he still did. Yunho was everything society said you should want—stable, charming, perfect on paper. But love wasn't about paper. Love was about the way you used to light up whenever he showed you his newest creation, about the quiet nights you'd spent talking about everything and nothing, about the way your hand had always felt right in his.

Suddenly, the idea of the 'right person' seemed so absurd. There was no such thing. The right person wasn't someone who ticked all the boxes. The right person was the one you chose to love, again and again, flaws and all.

And you had chosen him once.

The real question now was whether you still would.

He straightened, his resolve hardening like molten metal cooling into steel. What kind of love was it if he could stand by and watch you settle for less than what you deserved? Not less in status or wealth, but less in the kind of happiness that made life worth living. What kind of love let you spend the rest of your days with someone who could never truly make your heart race?

Seonghwa wouldn't let that happen—not if he could help it.

His gaze lingered on the Kuromi figurine one last time before he moved toward the back room. He needed to think, to plan, to figure out how to tell you everything he should have said years ago.

If there was even the slightest chance that you still felt the same way, he would take it. Because this time, he wasn't letting fear or pride or anyone else's expectations get in the way.

This time, he was going to fight for you.

"Well...? Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" you asked, your voice sharp, as you stepped into the house. Your mother flinched, bowing her head slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She hesitated for a moment before coming up to you slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt.

"Yunho called," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he wishes not to force you."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humour. "Of course, it took an outsider's words for you to finally see how exhausting this has been for me," you said, your tone cutting. "All this talk about marriage, about finding the right man... who is it really for? Who am I doing this for, hm? Is it for my own happiness? Or... oh, right." You smiled grimly. "It never was about my happiness, was it? It was about keeping up appearances, about pleasing everyone but me."

Your mother's face crumpled as her gaze fell to the floor. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.

Your father, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, let out a long, weary sigh. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as though trying to steady himself. "We thought we were doing what was best for you," he said, his voice low, burdened with regret. "We thought... if we guided you toward someone like Yunho, we were ensuring a future where you'd be safe, secure."

"Safe?" you repeated, your voice breaking. "From what? From being myself? From choosing the person who actually makes me happy? You never trusted me to make my own decisions. You never thought I was capable of knowing what I want, what I need."

Your mother reached for your hand, her touch tentative. "It wasn't like that," she said, though her voice wavered. "We were scared. Scared that you'd make a mistake, scared that you'd regret it later, scared that—"

"You mean you were scared," you interrupted, pulling your hand back. "Scared of what people would say. Scared of what the neighbours, the relatives, society would think. But you never stopped to ask me what I thought. What I felt."

Tears glistened in her eyes now, spilling over as she shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're absolutely right. We were selfish. We thought we knew better, but we didn't. We never meant to hurt you, but we see now that we did. We hurt you by not listening, by not trusting you."

Your father stood, his movements deliberate, his face sombre. "If he's the one you want, if he's the one who makes you happy, then we'll support you. No more pushing, no more trying to control your life. It's your choice. It always should've been your choice."

For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension that had loomed for so long finally began to dissipate, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief.

You inhaled shakily, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. It wasn't a perfect resolution—there was still so much to work through—but this was a start. A start you'd been longing for. "Thank you," you said softly, the words fragile but sincere. "Thank you for finally understanding."

And as your mother pulled you into a trembling embrace, you allowed yourself to hope that things could finally change. She smiled softly, brushing a hand against your cheek as if to assure you it was okay now. Your father stood behind her, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper—perhaps the weight of finally letting go.

They exchanged a glance before your father nodded toward the door. "Go," he said quietly, his voice firm but warm. "Go where your heart tells you to. We'll always be here."

You blinked, stunned by their words, and for a moment, you couldn't move. But then, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an urgency that made your pulse race. Without another word, you turned and rushed out, barely remembering to grab your keys on the way.

Your car roared to life as you sped through the streets, your destination clear as day in your mind. Star Mars. The silly name you'd suggested in passing all those years ago, never imagining he'd actually use it. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Would he still want you after all this time? Did it matter? Even if he didn't, you needed him to know. You needed to tell him how you felt—how you still felt.

Parking haphazardly in front of his store, you didn't waste a second before bolting toward it. But as you reached the doors, your heart sank. The store was dark, the lights off, the doors locked. "Closed" hung starkly on the door, though the shops around it buzzed with life.

You froze, staring through the glass, confusion and dread pooling in your stomach. It's not even closing time yet... Had seeing you earlier bothered him that much? Had you pushed him away again, without even realising it?

Slumping against the door, you bit back tears, the overwhelming sense of missed chances clawing at your chest. Sure, you could come back another day. But you'd already lost so much time, wasted so many years pretending you didn't want this, pretending you didn't love him. You didn't want to waste another second.

Your gaze drifted inside the store, scanning the shelves. Your breath caught when you noticed something was missing. The Kuromi figurine—the one you'd lingered on earlier—was gone. You frowned, stepping closer to the glass. It had been there before. Where had it gone?

"Looking for this?"

The familiar voice made you spin around so fast you nearly stumbled. There he was, standing just a few feet away, the Kuromi figurine clutched in his hand, still encased in its protective plastic.

Your breath hitched as tears filled your eyes. "You took her off the shelf?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you took a tentative step toward him. "Where were you planning to take her?"

He smiled softly, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own. "I was going to take her to her rightful owner," he murmured, his voice steady but tender.

Your heart stopped at his words, and you whispered shakily, "Was? So you're not taking her anymore?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Why not?"

He hesitated, the weight of years of longing and regret pressing against his chest. But then, the words of the customer from earlier echoed in his mind. Don't wait until it's too late. He looked at you—really looked at you—and knew, without a doubt, that this moment was the answer he'd been waiting for.

Taking a careful step forward, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing softly against yours. His breath hitched when your fingers instinctively curled around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter everything.

"Because you're already here," he murmured, his voice trembling with unspoken emotion.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your heart felt whole again. The ache of countless nights spent longing for him, convinced you'd never feel his love again, melted away. Here he was—right in front of you—just like all those years ago. Yet, it felt different now. It felt... right. Because this time, neither of you would let fear or doubt stand in the way. This time, you were both ready to fight for it, to grow, to compromise, and to hold on.

"Hwa, I... I need to tell you something," you began, your voice shaking, each word heavy with the weight of years spent in silence. Your eyes searched his, desperate to convey everything your heart had been screaming in his absence. But before you could say more, he smiled—a small, trembling curve of his lips that held every ounce of love and pain he'd been holding back.

His eyes glistened as he leaned in, his forehead gently meeting yours, grounding you, binding you in a way that no words ever could. The moment felt infinite, a pause in time where your souls met in unspoken understanding.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, raw and honest. Before you could process the words, his lips found yours, soft and warm, carrying all the unspoken promises, all the years of longing, all the love you thought you'd lost.

The world blurred and softened around you—the hum of the street and the glow of the city lights dissolving into nothingness. All that remained was him, the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady warmth of his hands cradling your face, the way his heart seemed to beat in perfect rhythm with yours.

In that kiss, you felt everything: the heartbreak, the yearning, the hope, and, most of all, the love that had endured time, separation, and pain. It was as if every broken piece of your heart was mending, every crack filled with the warmth of his love.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet night. His thumb brushed away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen, his touch tender and sure.

"This time," he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion, "I'm not letting you go."

And you knew—you both knew—that this time, nothing would keep you apart.

Istg, this wasn't meant to be so long. I wasn't even sure I wanted to give it a happy ending at first, but then I just kept getting carried away and voila. I swear I am working on Yunho's chapter of By Order of the Black Pirates bit by bit hehe just had to get this out of my system first.

As always, thank you for reading and hope y'all liked this one! Do let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar

@bunny4yungi @zl-world @quailbagutte @astudyoftimeywimeystuff

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #non idol au #exes to lovers #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez angst #ateez oneshot #seonghwa angst #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa oneshot #ateez fic

500 notes · View notes

markiecake · 1 year ago

Text

📹

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

tags/ warnings: smut (minors dni !!!), mirror sex, markie films while he fucks you, calls you his camgirl at one point :3, spanking (like once), pet namessss (good girl, baby, angel, etc u know the drill), praising !!!!, creampie

you couldn't help but feel just a lil bit embarrassed :(

you were looking back at yourself in the full body mirror in front of you, and you looked pathetic to say the least.

mascara streaming down your cheeks, hair stuck to your face, drool down your chin.. you were a mess 😵‍💫

a spank to ur ass snapped you out of your trance, and your eyes were redirected to mark, who was behind you.

"there she is," he laughed from behind you as he held his phone in his shaky hands.

he always talked about filming the two of you, because he's away all the time !! of course he needs something to get off to while he's gone !

the flash from his camera was making you squint as you continued to look in the mirror.

"i told you i'd stop if you- fuck- didn't look in the mirror, didn't i?" he spoke through grunts, "so watch, baby."

and at this point you were so close, the want for pleasure took over your pride. your head was spinning as you watched yourself get closer and closer to cumming.

although he had to keep it somewhat together for the sake of filming, mark was just as much of a mess as well. his hair was sticking to his forehead, one hand focusing on his phone and the other on your waist. he prayed that his phone would pick up your sounds as well.

"taking it so well, baby. my sweet girl, my best girl." he began to rant under his breath. you were reduced to whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier overtime.

"m- markie," you whine, "soso close, please-"

"yeah? you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he asked, to which you weakly nodded, "go ahead, angel. show me how much of a pretty camgirl you are."

you thought your brain was going to melt as he somehow sped up, making you see start. you reach back to grip at his arm as you watch yourself lose control.

you just about scream as you cum around his cock, your nails digging into his arm. you let out loud moans, as well as small whimpers of mark's name, repeated like a mantra.

your body shook, while mark was showing absolutely no signs of stopping yet.

"you gonna let me cum in you, love?" he asked, "let me make a mess of you? yeah?"

you nodded quickly, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. you could barely put two words together at this point, being so lost in the feeling D:

one final thrust made his hips still, holding your waist with an iron grip as he still somehow managed to capture every single moment.

we all know mark has the biggest breeding kink in nct (IT'S TRUE !!!!), so he definetly didn't want to waste a second of this.

he slowly pulled out, and moved the camera down to your used pussy, where his cum slowly dripped out. he heard you whine of "markieeee" when you saw what he was doing, but he just smiled to himself.

this was going straight to his favourites.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee hard thoughts #mark lee hard hours #nct dream #nct x reader #mark lee smut #nct 127 #nct smut #nct drabbles #nct #mark x reader #nct mark

1K notes · View notes

mikuhriii · 24 days ago

Text

mein schmutziges mädchen

m. kaiser x fem!reader

⚠︎ nsfw (mdni!) / explicit content / fingering / overstimulation / hair pulling / choking /swearing / mention of sex toys / kaiser is kaiser

based on this request

masterlist

once. twice.

or was it the third time?

no. maybe the fourth.

you don't even know; your mind is in a haze, and you can't think properly anymore. you’ve already lost count.

no, scratch that; you gave up counting moments ago.

you expected this. you, in such a vulnerable and obscene position—body sweaty and bare, tear-stained cheeks, leaning on his warm body, legs shamelessly spread wide open— all vulnerable and barely conscious to think.

you knew all of this would happen when he lured you in for a “little talk” about that bratty behavior of yours, with his alluring and subtle manner. he got you hypnotized— like a moth drawn to a flame—you fall right to his trap. you let him get to you, and now that he got you wrapped around his fingers, he swore to take his time with you.

agreeing alone with michael kaiser was like having a contract with the devil–no turning back. it was never a good idea in the first place, and yet, you still manage to fall right where he wanted you.

it was always like this. you get under his skin and you'll find yourself in a complete mess, sprawled on his silk ivory sheets.

bare.

begging.

submissive.

all for him to use. all for him to ruin.

“m-micha!” you gasped at the torturous pace of his unbelievably long fingers buried inside your sopping hole, hands desperately clawing at his toned arms for support.

it was ecstatic.

it was too much.

too much for you to handle; you're afraid you'll break any moment. but you hated it–you hate that you loved every bit of what was happening, you hate how your body still begs for more; for him to just fuck the hell out of you until you can't think of anything but his name, his face, just him alone.

the room was filled with nothing but obscenities; the buzzing sound of the device on your puffy clitoris, uneven breaths, and curses hung in the air. the intoxicating smell of sex only added to the lewd atmosphere.

“oh shit! i’m gonna cum— micha, i can't– ‘s too much—” you moan, biting the plump flesh of your lip so hard, it left an iron taste on your tongue.

“shh. fucking take it like the good girl you are, okay, liebe? you can do it. and don't fucking come until i say so, hm?” he whispered on your ears as he teasingly bite your neck with his infamous smirk plastered on his face.

kaiser on the other hand was enjoying all of it.

every. bit. of it.

the way your drooling mouth pathetically opens and closes, trying to form proper words; the way you catch your breath; the way your face contorts in discomfort and pleasure as he quickened the pace; everything. god it's driving him crazy.

“gonna cum, i’m–gonna cum. please let me cum, micha— please, please, please..” you were a blabbering mess— voice hoarse and desperate— it sent a shiver down his spine.

fuck

grabbing a fistful of your hair, he tugged your head back with a low chuckle. “you wanna cum on my fingers so bad, schatz? does my fingers make you feel so fucking good, hm?” his voice was low, laced with malice; dangerous like a predator.

you nod, and nod, and nod.

frantically.

no shame.

you don't care anymore.

and with every nod, his slick fingers moved faster and faster, in and out of your dripping womanhood.

in and out.

faster.

deeper.

your eyes rolled back. god you swear you're seeing stars from the overstimulation.

“yes—yes please, micha, micha, please let me cum…” with your quivering lips, you manage to chant his name like a mantra. you’re a whimpering mess, and fuck, kaiser love this view everytime he fucks you dumb with just his fingers.

kaiser felt your walls tighten and with a moan of his name escaping out from your mouth, you came on his fingers with a blissful sigh. it felt too damn good; your eyes shut close from the blissful sensation. your whole body convulsed, and your legs, once wide open, are now shut tight as you ride out your high. you stay still, leaning on him, breathing heavily, unaware of his snaking hands making their way to your neck.

he gripped it with enough force to make you look up at him.

you groaned.

unintentionally.

like it was some sort of reflex.

the thought of him choking you made your cunt pool once again.

god, what had he done to you?

“baaad fucking girl. did i tell you to come, hm? no?” his voice— low and lethal—tinges of venom. he taps your tear-stained cheeks, as if trying to wake you up on your fucked out state. you’d lie if you said that didn't turn you on.

you shake your head slowly like an obedient slave, resulting a smirk to form on his stupidly handsome face.

fuck you're gonna drive him nuts if you keep up like that.

“das ist richtig, mein schmutziges mädchen. so, we're gonna do this again right from the beginning until you follow everything i say, ja?”

oh you swear you never nodded so quickly your entire life after he said those. after all, you're his.

his alone to mess up.

his alone to use.

his alone to ruin.

a/n: i’m srsly gkms rn raaahhh i love love love this req sooo much. i need kaiser speaking german to my ears (kidding), help me he's sooo hoOoot gslwgwhwksvwj btw i’m not quite sure if it's accurate (i used google translate for that tehee) i'm sorry i got carried away aaannnd *clears throat*

anyway, idk if this turned out just like what was requested TT, and i didn't include ness here btw, my eyes were barely open and hurting while writing this (*cough* 3 am moments again) sorry anon:(. but i’ll upload one for him if i can think of a suitable plot. nevertheless, i hope you like it. likes and reblogs are much appreciated! don't forget to follow me also, for more updates. thanks a bunch!

331 notes · View notes

yoiisa · 17 days ago

Note

Hello! So glad to see your requests are open again! This is my first time requesting from someone lol I’d really love a windbreaker one (especially with Sakura, Kaji, Ume and Togame but however many you feel comfortable doing is fine) with a reader who is struggling with really bad nightmares to the point that they’re either avoiding sleep or just can’t get any rest. But reader is trying to hide it because they feel like that’s a stupid reason to be scared or unable to sleep. And the windbreaker boys are super worried and don’t know what’s happening until somehow or another they finally see one of the readers really bad nightmares, and comfort ensues?

ofc love! i am a sucker for nightmare hurt/comfort so this is a dream lol

➜ sakura haruka is dense, but he's not obtuse ➜ he clocks the fact that you're having trouble sleeping pretty early on into your string of nightmares, but you're stubborn and brush him off ➜ this just ends up annoying him more, because he can literally see you're not doing well, why won't you talk to him, and all that jazz ➜ ends up pseudo-intruding your house and sleeping on your couch while you take the bed, just to be a nuisance that you can't get rid of ➜ his plan is to babysit you the whole night to find out why you're not sleeping. his plan is quickly chucked out the window when you wake up screaming from another nightmare ➜ he ends up sleeping with you in the bed, warding off any more bad dreams for the time being

Don't scream . . . Don't scream . . . Don't. Scream! It'd been your motto before you'd fallen asleep. You'd been staring up at your ceiling fan, watching it whir in circles while you were whispering to yourself that mantra. As long as you didn't scream, Sakura would let your troubles go. The walls were thin, so all you had to do was not scream. Of course, things would be different when you actually fell asleep. Sakura was curled up on the sofa, which conveniently happened to be pushed up against the wall that bordered your bedroom. He had his limbs flung all around him like starfish, and his mouth was wide open. He was lost deep in his sleep when the nightmares started in your mind. Of course, you shot up in bed and screamed. Sakura was up in a second, skidding across your floors and racing into your bedroom. His entire body was taut, and he was frantically glancing about your room, trying to find whatever monster he needed to fight. There was nothing there though, just you shivering and sobbing in your bed. "[name]! [name]! H-hey!" he sits next to you on your bed and gently pulls you closer to him by your wrists. "Haruka," you croak, resting your head against his shoulder. "I . . . I'm sorry." "What the hell are you talking about?" he asks, his voice gruff. "How many times have you had nightmares like this? Is this why you're so tired all the time?" Your silence is all the answer that he needs. He sighs and pulls you back from his shoulder, staring deep into your eyes. "[name], why wouldn't you tell me?" "Because there's nothing you can do about it," you sigh, wiping your eyes completely dry. "I mean, I can't even manage to calm myself down enough to not have them. You can't beat up a dream." Sakura bristles, before a shiver runs through his body and allows him to relax. He groans and shakes his head, "Y-yeah, but I could . . . I could've helped in other ways! I could be there for you!" You stare down at your lap, your hands still trembling slightly. "Can you be there for me now then?" you ask quietly. "Is that even a question?" he lays you back down gently, before reclining next to you. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear before grumbling, "Now go back to sleep. Good night. I . . . I love you." " . . . love you too."

➜ kaji ren is completely lost on how to help you ➜ like sakura, he notices how sleep deprived you practically immediately, but he unlike sakura he doesn't say anything about it ➜ then you pass out in front of him and all bets are off. he practically pries your troubles out of you while you're sobbing, it's a whole mess ➜ he wants to so badly, but he can't punch a dream. he can't yell at your nightmares or punch something non-tangible, so he does the next best thing: sleepover at furin ➜ with the help of some other kids, on a weekend he completely clears out a classroom and makes it into a makeshift bedroom ➜ he hardly gets any sleep himself, too busy watching over you and making sure you're not troubled

"Ren, what are we doing at Furin?" you ask, a little nervous as to what's happening right now. "It's the weekend." "I know that," he responds, gently tugging on your hand to bring you inside the graffiti stained building. "Just trust me for once?" "I do trust you!" you pout and fall silent as he leads you through the school. Finally, you get to the second year classroom. The sun has completely set outside, the world thrust into darkness. Even the halls of the normally comforting school feel ominous and haunted. You squeeze Kaji's hand and ask again, "Babe, what are we doing here?" Kaji drops your hand and comes up behind you. He lifts his hands to block your eyes and says, "Trust me. You'll like it, I promise?" "Really? Because right now, I feel like I'm being dragged to my death." "This is why I don't do nice things for you," Kaji mutters, and you feel him guiding you forward, into the classroom that the two of you stopped in front of. You hear him kick the door to the classroom closed behind you and then he says, "Okay, open your eyes now." "Ren, your hands are in front of my eyes," you giggle, and then they fall away. You blink a few times, noting the room's dim lighting. "What-" When you turn your head, that's when you finally see it. A . . . pillow fort? Cushions that look like they got harvested from different houses/couches, a massive white crocheted blanket, a few of those glow in the dark stick-on stars, and pizza. "What's all this?" you ask, running your hand along one of the cushions. "I know you haven't been sleeping all that well," Kaji says, coming up behind you. "I . . . I thought a change of place might help." "So we're having a slumber party at Furin?" you ask, your smile widening. "I mean, if you wanna call it that." You look over at Kaji and wrap your arms around his neck. "I do. Thank you so much, Ren." Kaji looks off to the side, his ears turning red. His hands find you waist and he pulls you closer. "Hmm."

➜ umemiya hajime takes no bullshit from you ➜ oh baby, you can try to wave off your exhaustion with "oh it's nothing, don't worry about it," but this man is taking none of that ➜ if his loved one is actively hurting, he is not fucking around at all ➜ needless to say, he cuts your nightmare streak off pretty quickly ➜ he's just such a ray of sunshine. those horrific images can't last in your brain while he's there, being a constant beacon of hope and love

You truly do not know how you ended up on the roof of Furin. Somehow you were here, sitting across your boyfriend, a cup of tea cooling between the two of you. "Why did you lie to me?" he asks, his voice stern but somehow still gentle. "Lie to you?" "You told me you're fine but you're clearly not," he says, his blue eyes burning into your soul. "Well, I mean technically-" "[name], we're not going on technicalities," Umemiya sips his tea and then sighs. "I wanted to be someone that you could come to when you're troubled, but if you won't, then what's the point of even having me?" "Are you saying you want to break up over this?" you ask incredulously. "Of course not!" Umemiya takes your hand in his, brushing over the back of it with fingers. "It's just that I feel like you don't trust me enough to help with your problems! I want to help though!" You stare at him for a while before your shoulders slump and you give in. "I've been having pretty bad nightmares," you tell him. "I thought they'd go away on their own, but they haven't. I didn't tell you because I didn't think they were that big of a deal. Not to you, at least. After all, you can't do anything about it." Umemiya listens intently, his expression softening as you talk. "I could hear you out, couldn't I? I could listen to your problems and comfort you when you get scared." " . . . yeah." "So then next time, what will you do if you have the nightmares?" he asks, a smile beginning to form on his face. "Come to you." "Good girl," he grins and moves to sit next to you. He kisses the side of your head and nuzzles into your hair. "Finish your tea real quick, okay? I made it with lots of love~" You giggle and nod, taking a sip. "It's good." "I'm glad."

➜ two words: comfort. food. ➜ at first, togame jo mistakes your exhaustion for one stemming from you not eating properly so he starts making you cute little bento boxes (hand delivered by choji, of all people) ➜ but then one day, as you're having a sleepover, you start squirming and whimpering and sweating and jo wakes you up in a panic ➜ he ends up making you some instant ramen with some random other things and the two of you talk about it while you eat ➜ from then on, this man keeps your kitchen stacked with instant ramen cups, and whenever you have a nightmare, he's already got a meal ready to go

You get shaken awake in the middle of the night by a heavy hand on your shoulder. You blink a few times, adjusting to be awake again. Togame is hovering over you, a soft smile on his face as he stares down at you. "You okay there?" he asks, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You're kinda sweaty and shaky. Were you having another nightmare pretty?" You nod, sitting up and rubbing your eye. "I think so?" Was I really bad?" "There were worse times," Togame says, reaching over to the night table. "Here, have this." You look down at the instant ramen that he seemingly procured out of nowhere. "Where did you . . .?" "I made it before I woke you up," he explains, grabbing his own cup. "I wanted to make sure you had something to have immediately after waking up. Eat up now." You laugh quietly as you begin slurping the noodles from the cup. Togame's made better tasting things before for sure, but there's something nevertheless comforting about the generic, cheap taste of the insta-ramen. Togame finishes his entire cup before you've even gotten through half of yours. He lets out a content sigh and stretches his arms. One of them wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you into his side as you continue eating. "Slow poke~" he teases, nuzzling into your hair. "It's not my fault that you inhale food," you giggle, picking up some more noodles in your chopsticks. "Mmm, but it comes in handy in other times, doesn't it?" he asks, his breath tickling your cheek. You squeal and lean away. "Pervert!" "I'm just teasing!" "Get away from me!" "Not even a thank you for the noodles?" You shake your head, a bright smile pulling at mouth. "Thank you, Togame Jo, for these delicious noodles." "You're welcome," he grins kissing the tip of your nose.

a/n: i just KNOW togame's pet name game goes CCCRRAAAAZZZYYY

293 notes · View notes

st0ryf1lms · 1 year ago

Text

is it really you? ➳ ken sato

pairing: ken sato x reader

word count: 866

genre/warnings: fluff, sort of a crack fic, 3+1 things, wrote this with a sarcastic tone LMAO, a bit of profanity, grammatical errors most likely (wrote this at 1AM), reader uses fem pronouns

synopsis: the 3 times kenji sato swore he saw you, and the 1 time he actually saw you.

a/n: yes, i'm finally giving in to the kenji sato brainrot HUHUHUH if i had known he was the reason my writer's block would disappear, would've watched the movie sooner i'm ngl edit: AAAAAA WHAT 600+ NOTES??? U GUYS ARE INSANEEE I LOVE YOU ALL this is now up on my ao3!!

At the New Tokyo Dome at his first game as a Giants player

Maybe he was just dreaming, maybe it was the fatigue actually catching up to him ever since he hopped off that plane, or maybe he did actually see you in that stadium amongst the crowd cheering his name. You, as in his childhood best friend, arguably one of the best parts of his childhood in Japan before leaving for LA. You, as in the childhood best friend he never got to say a proper goodbye to. You, as in the childhood best friend whom he always missed and cried to his mom about whenever he'd get homesick. (You, as in the childhood best friend he'd harbored a secret crush on as a kid. As an adult? Psh, what sane person gets hung up on a person who must've forgotten him all those years ago. Not Ken Sato, for sure, yeah, uh-huh.) He'd never know for certain, of course, because as he was about to stop and look, a Kaiju crashed a KDF plane into the ceiling of the stadium.

KAIJU ALERT, his watch blared in an angry red face. He sighed, making his way to the nearest stadium exit and heading towards the dimly-lit part of the street by the stadium. Not without stopping for a split second because he thought he saw your silhouette. Silhouette, really? My God, Kenji, pull yourself together, he told himself. Of course, that wouldn’t be your silhouette because he definitely doesn’t know what you look like anymore, what food you like, what your job is, how you held up after he left for LA. Of course, he doesn’t know that.

Shaking off any more thoughts of you, Kenji turned into his giant alter-ego to fight off the Kaiju wreaking havoc on the streets of Tokyo. (a distraction, really, as Mina would say.)

2. On a grocery run looking exhausted as hell.

It had been two weeks since he took in the baby kaiju in his basement and Kenji Sato has never been more exhausted. If you ask him, exhausted would be an understatement. Nevertheless, his mind was actually alive (much to Mina's surprise) because he swears this time, that he actually saw you. With his own two eyes. As if locked in a daze, he secretly followed you like a lost puppy with a push cart in the grocery store before realizing you were heading for the exit. He stopped in his tracks as the doors opened for you, realizing the items he got weren't paid for yet.

Begrudgingly, he went back inside the grocery and got the rest of the items he needed before going back to his house.

Next time, I swear, I'll talk to her, Kenji said to himself as he drove back to his place.

3. During Emi's acid reflux rampage.

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed to himself like a mantra as he zoomed across the streets of Tokyo on his bike, trying to chase after the pink baby kaiju that somehow escaped his basement that he explicitly placed under the care of Mina (in case you couldn’t tell, he's definitely glaring at his AI assistant). Looking at the construction site beside him as he sat in traffic, an idea popped in his head. He could use that to give him a boost to quickly get to the baby. He rode up the makeshift ramp and turned into his giant alter-ego, catching his bike in time.

"Holy shit." He froze. Goddammit, had he really been that careless? Changing in front of a civilian? Nervously chuckling, he turned around to face the owner of the voice, mentally preparing his response [read: excuse] only to be wide-eyed and speechless. The owner of the voice was you. You, as in his childhood best friend, whom he's been trying to catch up with ever since he landed in Japan.

"What the fuck! Ultraman is Ke-" You exclaimed before you got rudely interrupted by the giant superhero. "Hey, shhh! Can we, like, stay quiet on this matter? I know I don't have an NDA right now but my bike will suffice, I guess. I'll get it back from you, I swear, I just really have to take care of this right now. Treat you to our usual spot? Thanks!" He said frantically before running away to take care of his huge baby problem.

Not really the best way to reconnect with your childhood best friend.

+1. After the battle at sea with the KDF.

"Hey, sorry for being late, had to take care of something." He apologized as he jogged up to you on your usual hang-out spot when you were children. You reassured him, saying that you had just arrived, too. "I didn't know what kinda stuff you eat now as an athlete superstar so I just went for the safest convenience store options." You said sheepishly, holding up the plastic bags with a weary smile. "I don't mind, I actually like convenience store snacks." He beamed on how you still remember what he used to like as a kid.

"So, Ken Sato, gonna explain?"

"Oh, you're gonna want to sit down for this."

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman rising

980 notes · View notes

lesbikaiser · 7 months ago

Note

hi hiiiii can i pls request reo losing the NNN? istg my purple haired rich boy needs more love >< thank u sm!!

hiii hiii my lovely! im glad to be feeding reo stans, he deserves it and so do y'all!

i almost forgot that nnn posts are supposed to be made in november and started writing this one like three days ago or so, i really hope you like it ><

mikage reo who engages in no nut november because he needs to prove you wrong. how dare you say he wouldn't make it to the end because he's used to "getting anything he wants." not that you're wrong though, but what does that even mean? he can't see any connections between having purchasing power and... cumming?

well, he could not see it, not until now. but it's as clear as day for him now that he's knuckles deep inside you, having your pretty body sprawled on his lap as you moan so perfectly against his chest, desperately riding his fingers like your life depends on it as you try and chase your high. it makes all sense in his head now, because watching you makes him so hard, throbbing dick bulging his shorts and the pre-cum leaking from his tip leaving a wet spot on his boxers. god, he would pay any amount of money to be let cum right now.

shit, it's been not even a week since you challenged him.

"reo– oh, reo! reo, reo, reo–! " it does nothing to help him how you call out for him so sweetly, his name like a mantra on your tongue, clammy hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life as your walls clamp down on his fingers, slick all over his palm and lap as your cute, needy cunt makes a mess on him, the way you look up at his face with big, doe eyes and fat tears pricking the corner of them really turns him on, his cock jumping and twitching at the sight.

he wants to fuck you so bad.

"gonna cum, reo–reo! please don't stop, reo..." your voice is high-pitched, thighs trembling around his wrist as your moans only get higher, needier, mixing with the squelching sound your pussy makes every time he plunges his fingers into your hole, reaching so deep and hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

why did he agree to finger you, again? surely he wouldn't be able to watch you falling apart for him without letting it get to him, he knows how much control you have over his body, so why is he doing it? did he really think he could take it?

but how could he ever say no to you when you asked him so prettily to 'please make you cum', with that sweet voice of yours? of course, that's why he agreed. he loves to spoil you.

he watches the way your greedy cunt swallows his fingers in, gripping onto them whenever he slightly pulls out to shove back into you, he can see the way they shine with your arousal, you're so damn wet, he bets he could easily slip his dick into that cute pussy of yours, he could be fucking and creampie-ing you right now and you could be moaning so louder, he would fuck you till you get too dumb to speak, only babbles coming from those pretty lips of yours, too fucked out to even think straight, the only thing in your head being his name...

he can feel his balls tightening at the thought, his body heating up and dick oozing more pre-cum from the tip, his boner is very obvious now and he knows you're too lost in pleasure when you don't notice how his cock is literally poking against your inner thigh, otherwise you'd have already teased him for being so hard when all he's doing is finger fuck you.

but how can he help it? you're definitely a sight to see, tits spilling from your small tank top with the way you arch your back, hips moving back and forth against reo's hand and your own fingers grabbing at anything they can – be it his sleeves, collar or just his shirt at all. he can feel your toes curling atop his thighs, and the outline of your nipples is very clear on the fabric of your clothing when you push your chest towards reo, lips parting to let out the prettiest moans.

he's mesmerized by the shape of your mouth, how your lips are a shade darker than usual because of the way you've been biting onto them, slightly swollen and so inviting, he feels like it's been ages since he last kissed you even though it was just a few minutes ago, he wants to feel your tongue against his, taste your spit mixed with his own. and it's like you've read his mind when you lean against him, arms draping over his shoulders as one of your hands fist his hair, the other caressing his nape so affectionately, he can practically see the heart-shaped orbs in your eyes as you stare at him, noses touching before you press your lips against his.

your tongue nudges his bottom lip before delving itself into his mouth, sliding against his own as you kiss him messily, spit running down both of your chins and your needy whimpers being swallowed by reo, teeth clashing a little due to how sloppy the kiss is.

he can't hold back a groan when you press your body further against his, unconsciously humping your thigh on his over-sensitive dick, his arm looping around your waist to bring you closer to him as his fingers work at a furious pace now, slick gushing out of your cunt and spilling everywhere, staining both of your clothes and it makes you roll your eyes when he curls his digits inside you, soft, warm palm touching your denied clit pushing you over the edge.

"mmph–! " your orgasm hits you like a train, electric waves shooting through your veins making your whole body writhe in reo's grasp, head thrown back and mouth agape with no sound coming out before you lean forward, resting your head on your boyfriend's shoulder as he helps you ride out your high, hand on your hair caressing your strands. you whine at the sudden emptiness in your insides when he pulls his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, slurred words leaving your lips. "love you, reo..."

you say it at the same time he pushes his digits into his mouth, tasting the residues of your cum on them, and that's his last straw. how you whisper so drunkenly against his ear, followed by a wet kiss on his neck and a cute whimper, your taste is so good on his tongue it makes him roll his eyes back, his dick twitches uncontrollably inside his shorts, load bursting on his boxers and soaking everything. he cums untouched, moaning pathetically onto your hair as his orgasm washes over him, not as strong as yours but enough to make his mind blank for a second.

you're too lost in reo's scent to notice anything, basking in the afterglow of your climax and breathing in his cologne, not really seeing the moment he comes down from his high and regains his senses. you giggle when he flips you both over, pinning your spent body down to the couch as his knees force your legs apart. a dumb smile stretches your cheeks when you bring his face closer to yours, arms still around his neck as you kiss him again.

this time though, it's him who shoves his tongue past your lips, licking at your mouth and stealing your breath as he devours you, you whine when your brain registers the taste of your cum, one of reo's hands gripping your thigh as the other pull his shorts down along with his underwear. it's only when you feel his slicked tip nudging your sensitive little clit that you open your eyes, breaking the kiss as you look confused at him. gazing down, you notice his shaft covered in an opaque, white liquid, as it sticks to your folds now that he's sliding his dick through them.

"reo?" the look on your face is priceless. the way your brows knit together, eyes slightly wide and a pout on your lips as you stare at his smirk, voice small when you call out his name. "did you– you came just from fingering me?"

he slaps his tip against your clit, smirk only getting wider when you yelp his name, hips writhing in his hold. "r–reo! what're you doing?" he doesn't even spare a glare at you, aligning his dick with your entrance as he watches your hole fluttering and clenching around his cockhead, desperate to be filled.

"it's already over for me, isn't it? so why not indulge in my wishes anyway? after all, i do get everything i want..." his purple eyes finally lock with yours, they're darker than usual and carry a hungriness you rarely see in them, you can tell how pent-up reo is from not being allowed to cum for the past days.

"and right now, my love, i wanna fuck that perfect pussy of yours."

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #reo smut #mikage reo smut #ㅤ𔘓 – my works...!

535 notes · View notes

maskedbyghost · 4 months ago

Text

When the Walls Fall (p. 2)

Summary: Simon’s never been great at dealing with feelings, especially when they come out of nowhere. From the moment he laid eyes on you, something shifted, but he did his best to keep it under wraps. It’s only when Price steps in, playing a little bit of matchmaker, that Simon’s forced to face what he’s been ignoring. Between the awkward tension, the attraction, and a little help from the Captain, maybe they’ll both figure out what’s been right in front of them all along. Word count: 2.6 k PART 1

The next few days were unbearable. The awkwardness between you and Simon only grew, and you were convinced that he hated you even more now—probably thought you were weird for waking up on his chest.

Maybe he saw it as some kind of desperate move, like you were clinging to him on purpose. The thought made you sick with embarrassment. You kept your distance, spoke only when necessary, and ignored the sinking feeling in your chest every time he avoided looking at you.

But Simon—he was struggling too. More than he’d ever admit.

Having you so close had done something to him. It cracked something open inside him, something he wasn’t ready to face. He had spent his entire life believing he was incapable of love, that whatever part of a person made them crave closeness, connection, warmth—he had lost it a long time ago. But the first time he saw you, all of that had started to unravel.

And why wouldn’t he fall for you? You were perfect. Your smile, your eyes, the way you carried yourself—every little thing about you had burrowed into his mind, refusing to leave.

But none of it mattered.

Because no matter what he felt, you deserved better. Someone normal. Someone whole. Not a man like him, built from scars and silence, who barely knew how to be a person, let alone a lover.

So he had to get over this. Had to shut it down before it consumed him.

He had to stay away from you.

But even as he repeated that to himself like a mantra, even as he forced himself to keep his distance, he couldn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in. The ones where he let himself imagine a different life—one where he didn’t have to push you away.

He pictured it too easily: you and him, sharing a home, waking up tangled in each other’s arms, whispering tired good mornings. He imagined lazy Sundays, your laughter in his kitchen, your warmth pressed against him on a cold night. He imagined a future where he wasn’t just surviving—but living. With you.

And then—your voice cut through the haze of his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing you had said something to him. He had no idea what.

Great. Just another reason for you to think he was an idiot.

Focus, Simon.

Meanwhile, you were just waiting for this mission to end. Every passing day only made it clearer—he couldn’t wait to go back and forget you existed. And that hurt more than you wanted to admit. A small, foolish part of you had hoped that this time together would change things. That maybe, just maybe, he’d see you differently—that you’d prove yourself, and he’d finally warm up to you. Maybe even call you a friend.

But the longer this went on, the more impossible that seemed.

If anything, it felt like he hated you more than ever.

The day dragged on longer than it should. You had settled into your position, crouched low in the grass, eyes fixed on the target compound through the scope. Everything felt impossibly quiet. You could hear your own heartbeat, the rustle of the wind in the trees, the distant hum of the world moving on around you.

Simon, ever the professional, remained still beside you. He wasn’t just watching the compound; he was watching everything. Every slight movement, every shift in the environment was noted, processed, and cataloged by his mind. You’d grown used to this—his intensity, the way he was always a step ahead in the game. But it also meant you didn’t get many chances to look at him.

Today, however, the stillness gave you more space than usual. And before you could stop yourself, your eyes flickered over to him.

His broad shoulders were tense beneath the fabric of his gear, every muscle coiled with the strength that made him the kind of soldier he was. You found yourself noticing for the past few days, the way the light caught in his hair, the streaks of deep brown with the slightest hint of auburn, the way his jawline was chiseled, and—wait, no.

You blinked hard, forcing your gaze to snap back to the compound. No. Stop it. This wasn’t like you. Don’t be stupid.

You hadn’t meant to look, hadn’t meant to notice how those strong hands worked the rifle, how his gaze would occasionally flicker to the distance with that contemplative expression. The kind of look that made you think he was constantly calculating every outcome, every possibility. And yet, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes—Wait, what? No, no, no.

Get it together, you’re being ridiculous.

Simon maybe didn’t hate you, but he certainly didn’t like you. At least not in the way that you were starting to think about him, and you couldn’t afford to entertain any thoughts like that. He was your lieutenant. He was your superior, distant, professional. You were just the one in the trenches with him, doing your job. You couldn’t afford to cross any boundaries.

Stop thinking about his eyes, you told yourself, shaking the thought away.

He was an attractive man, undeniably. You’d been forced to admit that in the safe house, when the mask came off. At first, you’d only been able to look away, embarrassed by the very idea of noticing how good-looking he was without his mask. And when you really started to think about it, his scars weren’t a flaw. They weren’t something to be hidden. They were part of him, marking the battles he’d fought, the sacrifices he’d made. The thought made you pause.

But you couldn’t keep doing this. Get a grip. This wasn’t a damn romance novel.

You swallowed and turned your attention back to the compound, forcing yourself to focus. As much as your mind kept drifting to him, you couldn’t let it distract you.

“Do you see anything?” you asked, the words slipping out more to break the silence than anything else.

“No. Nothing yet,” Simon replied, his voice low, as he briefly glanced in your direction. He didn’t seem to notice the way your pulse quickened, or how you tried to steady your breath. He was too focused.

And so the day dragged on like that. Silent. Uneventful. The quiet between you was suffocating yet again.

Later that night, as the shadows of the evening stretched across the small room where you were staying, you went about preparing for bed. You pulled on fresh pajamas, a soft, worn-out shirt and loose pants, feeling the fabric settle comfortably against your skin. When you walked in and faced Simon, his eyes met yours before you could look away.

For a split second, you thought you saw something in his gaze—something more than just his usual distance. He was staring at you in a way that made your stomach twist. You couldn’t place it, but there was a certain softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. You didn’t know how to process it in the moment.

Stop it. He was your lieutenant. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like that.

In Simon’s head, however, things were far more complicated. He’d been trying to ignore the nagging thoughts that had been creeping into his mind for days, but they were growing harder and harder to push away. When you walked in, in your soft pajamas, he couldn’t help but be taken back. You looked so soft. So cuddly. And that thought made him want to die.

He never should’ve allowed himself to think about you like that. You were part of the team—his team. And there were rules. Lines. He couldn’t cross them. But damn, it was hard when you made it so easy to imagine pulling you close, letting the warmth of your body against his chase away the chill of the night.

His mind stopped working for a moment, the words failing him. It wasn’t just your appearance that caught him off guard. It was how safe you made him feel—something he hadn’t realized he needed until you were here, close to him, yet still so far out of reach.

He felt like a damn fool.

You lay down, your back to him, your voice soft as you muttered a quiet, “Goodnight.”

A grunt from him was all you got in response.

Simon stared at the ceiling, his body rigid, the blanket bunched up in his hands. He knew he wouldn’t sleep. Not tonight. Not while you were so close once again. Not while the temptation to reach out, to pull you into his arms, was so powerful that it made his chest ache.

He wanted to. He wanted to close the distance, wrap you up in his arms, let you rest against him. But no. He couldn’t. He wasn’t brave enough to do that. He wasn’t brave enough to admit how much he wanted to hold you, to have you close.

So he stayed still, his thoughts a mix of want and regret, as the night stretched on in silence.

The next night, the air was crisp as you made your way back to the safe house, the long trek from the observation point stretching your already exhausted limbs. Your feet felt heavy as you trudged through the muddy terrain, the cold biting into your skin. You'd been up for hours, and it was only a matter of time before fatigue set in completely.

The path back to the safe house was narrow and winding, overgrown with brush and rocks that made every step more challenging than the last. You cursed under your breath as you stumbled on an uneven patch of ground, your foot slipping from under you.

Before you could even react, you were tumbling, arms flailing as you fell to the ground with a harsh thud.

A sharp gasp of pain shot through your side as you skidded to a stop.

“Shit!” You cursed, trying to push yourself up, but the sharp pain radiated from your wrist, and your vision blurred for a moment. You gritted your teeth, breathing through the discomfort as you tried to sit up, but it wasn’t easy.

You were still trying to collect your bearings when you heard heavy footsteps approaching. You barely had time to turn before Simon was there, kneeling in front of you, his gloved hands gripping your shoulders.

“Are you alright?” His voice was tight, almost breathless as he quickly scanned you for any obvious injuries.

You blinked, disoriented by the sudden proximity, the way he was staring at you with wide eyes. You hadn’t seen him so visibly shaken before. He was usually so calm and controlled.

But right now, his gaze was intense, almost panicked, as he crouched down in front of you, his breath uneven.

“I—I'm fine,” you muttered, trying to reassure him as you winced and gently held your wrist, still feeling the sharp ache. You didn’t want him to worry, even if your mind was still foggy from the fall.

Simon’s eyes flicked to your wrist, his hand shooting out before you could even react. He gently cupped your injured arm, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin as he inspected the damage, his face drawn with concern.

His touch was careful, like you were fragile, like you might break. But then, his fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary. His thumb brushed lightly over the skin of your wrist, the contact sending a shiver down your spine.

You stared at him, your breath catching. The way his fingers held your arm, how he hesitated for that split second—there was something different about it. It wasn’t just concern; it was like he was almost... reluctant to let go.

He seemed to realize it, pulling his hand back abruptly, as if shaken by the brief moment of closeness. His jaw clenched, and for a second, he seemed to struggle with what to do next.

“Don’t move. You need to rest for a minute,” Simon ordered, his voice rough, eyes darting over your face before locking onto your wrist again. Without waiting for a response, he carefully picked you up, cradling you against his chest before you could protest, lifting you with surprising ease despite the weight of your gear.

You felt the tension in his arms as he held you, but it wasn’t the usual steady, strong grip. There was a tremor in his hold, like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with you now that you were hurt. His jaw clenched, eyes scanning over you again as if searching for any other signs of injury.

"Simon, it's fine," you said, trying to calm him, confused by his reaction. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours, the rhythm of his breathing erratic as he carried you back toward the safe house.

But he was still visibly shaken, almost desperate to get you there faster, his pace quickening. "No. You’re hurt. I... I…" His voice was low but sharp, betraying the panic he was trying to suppress. "Hold on. We're almost there."

You blinked up at him, bewildered. "I’m fine, Simon. Really."

But he didn’t seem to hear you. His face was tense, his features softening only slightly as his gaze flickered over your face.

When you reached the safe house, Simon gently set you down, his hands never leaving you entirely. He looked over you once more, making sure you were steady on your feet before he took a step back, his eyes still intense, his body still wired with concern.

He exhaled, his hand trembling slightly as it brushed through his hair. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" His voice was softer now as he looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if he should back away or keep close. He wasn’t used to feeling this out of control.

You nodded slowly, taking a careful step forward, trying to steady yourself. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up, that’s all.”

Simon studied you closely, his eyes flicking to your wrist once more, his fingers twitching like he wanted to check it but wasn’t sure if he should. He looked frustrated with himself, like he couldn’t make sense of the situation.

"I shouldn’t have let you walk ahead like that. I—" He cut himself off, running a hand over his face. You had never seen him like this. His normally calm, calculated demeanor was cracked, the worry and helplessness in his eyes clear.

A beat passed, and you both stood there, feeling the awkwardness between you. He wasn’t looking at you the same way, as if he were still processing everything that had happened. You could see it now—the barely contained concern, the way his eyes darted over your every move like he couldn’t shake the images of you falling, of you getting hurt.

“Simon,” you murmured, your voice soft. “I’m okay. Really.”

He finally met your gaze, his eyes still holding a hint of that tension, but something softer now too. It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then—without a word—he turned and left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the silence.

You stood there, staring at the door for a long moment, heart still pounding, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

What the fuck just happened?

PART 3

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

@daydreamerwoah @nightunite @rigbyscar @kittygonap @buggg4life @tessakate @m-artemisa-c @first-time-fanfic-writer @identity2212 @trulovekay @lostintransist

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley #cod x reader

333 notes · View notes

angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

Note

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?”

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra.

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still.

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something.

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted.

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction.

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up.

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence.

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.”

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did.

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon request #anon request #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader

1K notes · View notes