#I had body hair when I was like. 6 and I’ve always had aches and pains and nerve issues since I was a child
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stress triggered chronic pain let’s goooo
#idk something feels wrong#I should probably go to the doctors but idk#part of me is like. if something is wrong idk wanna know#just let me die ignorantly yanno#but I don’t want to die#and I don’t want to be in pain#I’m scared of bad news but I’m also scared they’ll just say there’s nothing wrong with me#I still have unpaid hospital bills I don’t#I don’t want to waste anyone’s time#but I feel so bad#and I have been and I know Inhave chronic pain but I’m tired of hurting all the time#I want to take a run or something#I want to walk or something idk I just. feel so bad I don’t want to be in pain anymore#and it’d be different if I was like thin or somethin#I could kinda sorta get away with it then (not really) to be disabled ur already treated like shit but to be disabled and fat? then its like#ooooh you did this to ur self n its like I think my weight is a symptom not a cause#I matured very fast because of csa and idk I think I have a hormone problem which causes months long heavy periods amoung other things#I had body hair when I was like. 6 and I’ve always had aches and pains and nerve issues since I was a child#getting stomped on by other kids when I was only like..5? and having an adult bend my legs higher than they could go probably didn’t help#however that’s a long time ago. I just think that things never got the chance to heal right and if they did that’d be half of my pain gone#I need to go outside and idk get fucked or something. need to clear my head#we went out a few days ago and my body still hurts from it and I barely did anything -_- sitting down hurts walking hurts laying down hurts#swimming doesn’t hurt tho. I miss swimming
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One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader
Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings
S Y N O P S I S:
Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k
[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]
A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.
Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.
It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness.
Then every memory from last night came tumbling through.
After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances.
You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.
And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window.
The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his...
You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.
Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.
You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings?
“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth.
“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you.
Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his.
This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.
“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.
“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.
“Sorry?”
“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words.
His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”
You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ”
He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”
He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.
It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you saying we can't date?”
You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath.
He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently.
You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.
It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide.
Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you.
One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare.
“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind.
“Here. It’s cold out.”
He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it.
You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.
And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.
----------------------
You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way.
You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over.
Over before it had even begun.
Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando.
You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move.
It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings.
Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice.
Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away.
That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.
At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak.
Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.
-------------------
The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle.
Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.
Perhaps you were running away.
Perhaps this was your revenge.
Your resignation made sure he’d never know.
L A N D O 'S P O V:
They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.
I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.
I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away.
It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.
I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.
And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.
Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance.
There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile.
He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over.
“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.
Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient.
He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place.
“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”
The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.
My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.
They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.
It was over.
I was one day too late.
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#ln4#ln4 ang#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 angst#formula one angst#formula 1 angst#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris angst#lando norris x oc#lando norris x you#f1 angst
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F1 John Price x reader 5
3.1k | angst Shepherd and his PR obsession (part 1) (part 6)
John’s tired body melted in your embrace as he sighed at the door of your flat. The high still thrummed in his veins from his victory the previous evening. With Kyle in second, McLaren sealed a stunning 1-2 finish at Bahrain GP.
He closed the door behind him and took his mask off. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he said between kisses.
You smiled against his lips, fingers curling over his biceps. “Guess what I made you for dinner?” You helped him take his jacket off.
How could he not want to come home to this every single day? To your hugs and kisses and laughter that allowed the aching exhaustion in his bones to dissipate into thin air.
You made it so hard to leave each time, and once more, telling you of his next trip chipped away at his heart again.
“So it’s the third consecutive weekend you’re away?” You turned to him on the couch. “Are you supposed to be away for work this often?”
The way your frown replaced your brilliant smile chased away the remaining serotonin from him. “I’m usually away two to three times a month. But they’re not long trips,” he quickly added. “Just 4 days, 5 tops.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You never said anything about that, John.”
“Yeah-“ He dropped his gaze. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”
It was the truth. Off-season was an absolute paradise with you. With no travelling involved, he was a normal bloke with a normal day job and a normal relationship. The reality of his real work was a distant thought until it towered right in his face.
“But it doesn’t have to change anything, right?” He tried to not let his panic seep into his voice when you avoided his eyes, your shoulders sagging.
“I don’t know, John,” you mumbled. “The past months you were always in town and I didn’t expect this.”
“I won’t always be away. After Jeddah, I’d have over a week here. So let’s-“ His heart was beating out of his chest as he grasped your chin, tilting your face towards his. “Let’s see how it goes? It’s not that bad, I promise.”
He didn’t want to see how it went. He wanted to know this would all be just fine and he’d always be able to come home to you like this. But John Price was a selfish bastard whose voice still shook despite his willpower of making it work. Was he trying to convince you or himself?
At last, you met his eyes and a small smile flickered on your lips. “Okay.”
Relief washed over him and he pulled you to his chest. “Would you let me make it up to you?” He kissed your forehead. “I’ve arranged a dinner for us on Wednesday. Dress up, yeah?”
John Price could almost smell the death of John mother fucking Sloane – the devil he fashioned who had taken shape much bigger for him to contain. He could taste the victory as he drove to your shop that evening. He’d been looking forward to the date, a nice, quiet dinner with you overlooking the London skyline. He sported a creaseless button down, even got his hair trimmed and dress shoes polished for the occasion.
He’d made up his mind – he was going to tell you in the privacy of your flat. Despite the chance that you’d be out of his life by the end of the night, he’d had enough. It was your prerogative if you didn’t want him and the obstacles it entailed, and he couldn’t keep breaking your heart.
So when Kate’s name flashed across the infotainment screen of his GTI, he frowned.
“John, Shepherd’s meeting a potential investor for dinner. He wants you to join them.”
“Me? What for?”
“You know what for. He said you and Kyle need to show.”
“Shepherd and his PR bollocks,” he muttered.
“I just texted you the address. You better leave now.”
“Tonight!? What the- I’ve got plans already, and I’m not cancelling, not again.”
“If you want to get on Shepherd’s bad side, I guess. Mr. Graves won’t be here anymore when we come back from the race.”
“Kate, come on. Besides, look at what time it is.”
”Sorry, you know how it goes, John.” She paused. “I mean, he said you could bring anyone. So maybe if you’d been honest, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
The comment was a slap to his face. It was a low blow, and he hated that she was right. He’d slipped too deep into his persona and it was all the more why coming clean to you that night was imperative.
“Make sure you drive your McLaren.”
At the red light, when he’d hung up, he screamed the loudest fuck the side of town had ever heard. He wanted to get on his knees and cry, but he could only laugh helplessly at his misfortune.
John didn’t mean to fling the door of your shop open, but the patrons turned to him at the commotion nonetheless, making him grimace. His eyes went right to you behind the counter, all dolled up for the night. The smile faded when you saw his frown.
He rushed to you. “Love, I’m so sorry. I-“ He sighed, trying to keep his voice down. “Something just came up. My boss wants me to attend dinner with some investor.”
You averted your gaze, your shoulders slumping.
“Fuck me, I feel terrible. I don’t know what time I’ll be done, but could I come over you after? I want to see you before I leave tomorrow.”
“That alright, John,” you said in a small voice, turning away from him. “Just go.”
“I’ll move the reservation to Monday.” He pulled you into a hug, but your arms hung by your side.
You could wait another weekend. You would, right?
He pulled his mask and leaned in. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. See you soon, okay?”
John didn’t realise it then, but your lips tasted different that evening.
There John Price was in the sweltering heat of Jeddah for the second race of the season.
Days passed in a blur. Even that he tried, he wasn’t all there in the briefs or interviews answering questions that didn’t need to be asked. He’d left his mind 3,000 miles behind, and a dark cloud loomed over him, like a monster was breathing down his neck making his skin crawl.
You’d been quiet. You avoided his calls and barely texted him back since Wednesday before finally saying you didn’t want to talk. As much as he didn’t want it to affect him, the silence pierced like nails on chalkboard. He was willing to give you all the space you needed, but guilt weighted crushed his shoulders. Had he run out of time?
John was fuming, of course he was. He wanted to bail, fly back to London and beg for your forgiveness. Instead, all he could do was scream his lungs out into his pillow, because he couldn’t be angry at you.
You had the right to be upset, and more. He’d embarrassed you that evening. Evie, one of your girls, had wrapped her arm around you, guiding you back to your office. She might be years younger, but he didn’t miss the nasty look she shot over her shoulder before he bolted out the door with his heart dragging on the floor.
But it wasn’t only that. It wasn’t the first time he’d failed you. The past weeks he’d lost count of how many times he was late or had to move around plans with you.
It was getting harder to keep the fire burning in him. He’d jumped through these hoops, and it looked like it was all in vain. He just wanted to make everything as easy as possible for you, and be the understanding and patient man you deserved, but he could barely hold himself together with everything spiralling out of control.
He had painted himself into a corner. How could he salvage this? It was looking worse by the day.
Of course he wanted to be honest. He was dying to tell you, but coming clean at this exact point felt like giving up. Because if he did, how could you even imagine staying?
Was this something he couldn’t have with you after all? Perhaps he had signed away his rights to a normal life when he plunged into racing.
Sunday afternoon, hours before the race, you finally broke the silence.
I don’t want to keep doing this
There it was. A deceivingly simple sentence, but it was a blow in the gut. His time had run out.
His heart hammered as he dialled, but you didn’t pick up.
Could we please talk?
Let me know when you're back
He couldn’t argue with that. It was always better to talk in person, but his heart tossed and turned into itself. The clocked ticked away, but not nearly fast enough to Monday.
So John Price showcased his rage on the circuit – something he was infamous for. It was always a spectacle how he overtook his opponents in tight corners, zipping past them in straights. Fans cheered for the action, the relentless chase he demonstrated, like a ravenous predator ready to pounce and shred with no mercy.
But perhaps, had he been more present the past few days, he would have realised the understeering issue remained before it was too late.
He could yell and complain all he wanted on the radio, but he was the one who struggled to maintain his position as his car refused to do what he wanted it to. His blood boiled as yet another driver zoomed past him, pushing him further down to 5th place.
“Focus on finishing. It’s just 15 laps to go,” Ghost said. “Sorry, cap. There’s nothing else we can do for now.”
With his situation laid out, John should be more conservative – it was the right thing. But as he stared longer at the car in front of him, the fury still brewing, making a move to take back his previous position was as tantalising as ever.
But he should have listened to Simon, his seasoned and trusted engineer, because to avoid scrapping the wall after the next corner, his tyres locked up, causing a collision with the Mercedes driver who was just as hungry for a strong finish.
John’s aggressive style had always served him well, allowing him to execute impossible moves and thus securing astounding wins, but that day, his temper had severely skewed his judgement.
It was a miracle he finished 8th that evening, and he dreaded the onslaught he was going to receive for the rookie mistake, of letting desperation consume him. Kyle and Simon tried to cheer him up the first chance they got, but he excused himself to his room with disinterest. Kate gave him a sympathetic pat on his back. He only kept his head down.
At least Monday was close. Seeing you always made him feel better. He’d make it all right once and for all.
John woke with a nasty, aching bruise on the right side of his ribs. He feared a trip to the hospital will delay his return, but the scan revealed it was nothing serious, much to his relief. He was given pain meds to help with the injury. But most importantly, it meant he could stick to his schedule to fly back.
Nothing was standing in his way anymore.
I just landed. I’ll head home to get ready for dinner and I’ll come by the shop to pick you up
We’re not having dinner. Meet me at my place at 7
The situation was worse than he’d anticipated. He sighed. Perhaps a little nap would calm his nerves. Sleep hadn’t been kind to him the past few days after all.
When he jolted up from his couch too many hours later, he gasped. It was past 8. With his heart pounding, he was certain you weren’t going to pick up but-
“Love, I’m so, so sorry-“
“Is this another one of your excuses too, John?” Your voice wobbled.
“It’s not an excuse. I took pain meds and slept thought my alarm.” He rubbed his eyes and stood, his legs shaky. “I’ll leave right now, okay?”
The line remained silent as he gathered his belongings.
“I can’t keep doing this,” you said quietly.
He stopped in his tracks.
“I've known you for months, but I don’t know who you are. You've never even once brought me to your place. I’ve never met your friends. I don’t even know what you do that makes you so busy.” Your voice cracked. “You're hiding something, John, and I’m done making excuses for you.”
He held his breath. This is it. “Yes, you’re right. I am. I haven't been truthful to you.”
“I knew it.” You laughed humourlessly. “Men like you can't be single. I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I-“ He sighed, falling back onto the couch. “Would you promise... That nothing will change this?”
“What's this, John?” Your voice rose. “There's nothing here if you can't even be honest with me.”
“I know, and I swear I’ll be honest from now on.” He exhaled sharply. “I’ll tell you my real name. It’s not J-“
“You didn’t even tell me your name?” you repeated. “After these months- I… I can’t believe you.”
“Wait, let me explain, love.”
“I don't even want to know what else you lied about.” You scoffed. “You're a liar and that's all I need to know.”
“Sweetheart, just- just listen, please. I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t you dare call me that,” you snapped, but the broken sigh that followed shattered his heart. “You’re… you make me sick.” And the line clicked off.
He kept calling, but instead, you ended up shutting off your phone. He understood you were livid. He hadn’t been who you deserved at all, but he was done waiting. You had to know.
My name is John Price. I’m a Formula One driver for McLaren. Everything else is the truth. Please let me explain
He’d love to go to yours, but his body was giving up on him as the pounding in his head remained.
“I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled before collapsing on his bed.
It was beyond infuriating.
John Sloane, or whatever his name was, was the first man to have caught your eye in a long time. He was kind, laid-back, funny, sweet. He was always there for you, willing to get out of his way to help out. He never needed to tell you that you mattered.
However, the more time passed, the fewer excuses you could make for him. He wouldn’t tell you where he lived, let alone take you there. Sure, maybe he was embarrassed of having a roommate, or if the state of his flat wasn’t in its prime. Perhaps he was a hoarder, although you doubted that because his car was always tidy and taken care of.
But it wasn’t only that. He didn’t have any online presence, nor did you know any of his friends. In public, he always wore a mask, didn’t like crowded places, wouldn’t send you pictures of himself nor have his pictures taken. You never asked, but you assumed he was simply self-conscious.
Yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t want to be recognised, like he was hiding something. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting harder to not think you were the other woman.
Your friends had long dismissed whatever it was you had with him. He had to be married, they said. It was always dodgy - you couldn’t lie, but you should have pressed for an explanation, demanded certainty, or something rather than take his excuses for the sole reason of not pushing him away.
You wanted to trust him, but your patience thinned. When he started being consistently late, became unavailable on weekends, the alarms started blaring. He was spending his time elsewhere and it was bitter on your tongue.
As attentive and caring as John was to you, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. Surely you weren’t the only one who saw it. There were plenty of other ladies out there-
The creak of the shop door interrupted your thoughts. You straightened up and greeted the man as he approached the counter.
He returned your smile, his pearly whites perfect. “Hiya, love. So nice to finally meet you. I’m Kyle, John’s friend.”
Your smile froze as your brows knitted. “Sorry, John who?”
“John Price.”
Your frown deepened. “I’m sorry, I don’t know a John Price.”
The man blinked, confusion in his brown eyes. “But I’ve seen your photos with him-“ He pointed at your nametag. “That’s you, yeah?”
“Yes?”
“You’re pulling my bloody leg, aren’t you?” He let out a nervous chuckle as he whipped out his phone and started typing. “You’re telling me you don’t know him?”
He showed you a selfie of him and the elusive John, each holding up a shiny trophy with a grin.
Congrats JP for winning the first race of the season #BahrainGP
“Right. Yes, of course.” You forced a chuckle. “Got you, didn’t I?”
“Bloody hell, love. For a second I was going to be really embarrassed.” He laughed, scanning the menu. “What’s his favourite drink again? I’ll get that for him, and- you know what, make that four, please, and the cookies too of course.” His eyes flicked back to you. “Obviously, he needs some serious cheering up after Sunday.”
Was that really the John? Your mind whirred as you served him. What happened on Sunday?
He dumped a wad of bills in the tip jar and thanked you again before strutting out with his order. Hope you see you at the paddock soon, he’d said.
You blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Why did this Kyle bloke talk to you like you were supposed to know him? And did he say he’d seen your photos with John? You’d never taken any.
Outside the shop, a couple of young ladies audibly squealed at the sight of Kyle before rushing to take selfies with him.
The man you’d cried over the night before was not who you thought he was. You went to your office and turned your phone on.
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ׅ 𝅄 𝆬⠀╥╥ will i ever see you again? , soobin.
gn!reader ، wc: 2k ، genre: angst, exes ، tw: f word and talks about death (nothing so deep tho).
note: listen to 'will i ever see you again' for a better reading.
droplets of snowflakes falling in your skin. your bones are shaking. your blood runs cold through your veins.
“it’s because i still love you choi soobin! fuck, how long do i have to go on pretending i don’t?” an aching sob leaves your throat.
the dark haired man stands in front of you, like a ghost. not moving, not talking back, not screaming at how crazy you must be. nothing.
“you may not have chosen me. you may not love me. but-” your let your head fall. no one single strength left. your heart aches and burns. tears watering the snowed ground.
everything feels like a fever dream. but not the good one, where your body floats and the air suspenses with white petals and a warming breeze.
this one is brutal. like a knife in your stomach, begging to be pulled out. begging to end your pain.
“did you ever love someone so bad that it feels like you’re dying?” you ask him. “soobin… it hurts. it hurts so much. please… please, let me go.”
your cry intensifies as your knees weaken and touch the ground. all the pain from all of those unslept nights, aching with anxiety, are liberated through tears.
you can’t quite pinpoint when your feelings towards him flourished again. in your heart, it seems like you have always loved him even after you two parted in different ways. but the day you heard through one of his best friends that he had moved on, was when everything started crumbling.
why would he keep himself from loving again? your relationship ended nearly 2 years ago. but for you, it seems like it was yesterday when the shy boy showed up with a bouquet, stumbled over his words, and messily told you he loved you. his precious cheeks turning a deep shade of red. his eyes not even daring to see your face, too scared he would get rejected.
but now he’s a man. even taller. voice so deep it makes your whole body vibrate. eyes caring a bit of maturity from adulthood. you, on the other hand, seem stuck in the past. nothing is different. it’s like your life paralyzed on that day, two years ago.
“why you make me fall in love with you, if you were leaving me?” this question haunts you.
an annoying sounds starts to buzz in your head. you open your eyes.
[6:33 am alarm]
it seems like your alarm has been going on for a whole three minutes. the daylight burning your pupils.
you feel sick. maybe it’s a fever. your throat is dry. your heart beats like it wants to run away from your body.
it was a dream. the same one again.
two years later and you still have the same dream. or would you call it a nightmare?
you don’t even know about soobin anymore.
has he moved? is he married now?
you don’t care. you need to end this story. no matter what end it takes. it’s time to let this nightmare go once and for all…
was it even a dream or a prediction of the near future?
★ taglist: @sunoooism @itgirlgyu @mazeinthemoon @run4gyu @besciitos @lunathewritingcat
★ status: requests and taglist currently open! send me an ask or comment to be added.
© gyuletters, 2024 - do not repost, copy, or translate. // first fic of 2024? maybe, i don’t remember it right now lol. anywaysies, after a bit of hiatus and being lost on what to write, finally an inspiration was awakened LMAO. this fic is inspired by the k-dramas i’ve been recently watching (and rewatching). no spoiler, ofc, but i finished gyeongseong’s creature and… let’s just say taesang and chaeok gave me a bit of indirected inspiration for this hihihi. as always, tysm for reading my works. it really does mean a lot to me that even through my hiatus so many people still read my works. i only write them for fun, so it still feels awesome to have someone that, in some way, likes what i do. ily all and i hope love finds it’s way to your life. 🤍
with love, 𝑟.
xoxo.
#͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏© glettrs official ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏#tomorrow x together#txt fics#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt angst#txt fluff#soobin#soobin fics#soobin imagines#soobin x reader#soobin angst#soobin fluff
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OMG I DIDNT KNOW YOU WROTE FOR ARGYLE!! I need thigh riding with argyle omg I haven’t found anything like it yet 😭 I can see him being in disbelief that it’s happening and just be like like “holy shitt” and both him and reader would definitely be high. I can’t see argyle being tooooo kinkly, he would probably just praise so if you could do something like that id scream in my pillow for 3 hours straight 😭 you don’t have too! I’ve heard that your sick so take you’re time sweetheart :) but thank you if you do write it!
I LOVE YOUR WRITING BY THE WAY🤭 take care!!
i feel so bad for pushing this off, but i’ll definitely do this!!!! honestly this request is amazing, and i legit feel so bad for not remembering to do this 😭 i’ll try and make it extra special for you as a little i’m sorry :3
argyle and you were relaxing after a long day of him working, both of you tired and high. cuddling up with eachother as something played on the tv, it was hard to pay attention to whatever was on tv when all you could think of was argyle.
he smelt good, was so warm and cuddly.. and his hair. don’t get me started on how obsessed you are with his beautiful hair. you guys were laying down, argyle on his back while you laid on top of him.. straddling his thigh slightly as your head rested on his chest, your hand playing with a strand of his hair.
you and argyle were together for 6 months now, and you two have never got down and dirty.. mainly cause of how shy and self conscious he’d get, always worried that you wouldn’t be attractive to him if you saw him like that.
or that you wouldn’t like how his body was, sense he had a soft tummy. people in the past would always tease him about his body, so ever sense he’s been conscious of it.
yet when you guys got to, or if you, argyle, jonathan, and will and el went out during the california summers. you’d encourage him to come in, and swim with you. and you’d always get to see his pretty body, you loved it. he was like a soft teddy bear.
and you didn’t care if argyle was skinny or not, you just cared about his personality.. and christ did you love his personality. anyways, you two were cuddled up.. and of course, you were ovulating. always got so desperate and horny during those times, and it didn’t help how high you were made everything feel ten times better. and more overwhelming.
fidgeting slightly as you let out a little shaky breath, that ache in your crotch forming as you buried your face into argyles chest.. taking a deep breath as you sighed. “you okay man?” argyles voice softly said as he glanced at you, resting his hand on your lower back and you felt your body just tingling with desperation.
“m’fine..” you quietly said, glancing up at him before away.. his cute high face driving you insane. as you looked at the tv, trying to ignore the feeling.. soon you’d probably forget about it right? you just hoped, as you stayed cuddled up with argyle.
the way your clothed cunt slightly pressed against his thigh drove you insane, as you couldn’t help but slightly grind against his thigh.. surely he wouldn’t notice, plus you were barely doing anything.
so why would he notice you doing it? yeah well poor argyle, definitely noticed. just looking down at you.. noticing the way your hips were moving up and down, and the movement against his thigh?
hell he couldn’t believe it, staring down at you with blown pupils as he swallowed hard.. he didn’t know if he should say anything or- just.. let you continue. you seemed to be enjoying it, and he didn’t wanna ruin the pleasure you were feeling. and the soft sounds that left your mouth, drove him insane.
you sounded so pretty, he gulped. his face flushing slightly as he kept his hand on your lower back, softly hugging out a little breath. “does that feel good?” he muttered, as your head turned to look at him.. and christ your expression, was something permanently stuck in his mind.
the way your mouth was slightly open, and the blush on your cheeks.. the way you seemed so out of your mind. as you slightly nodded, grinding your cunt down against his thigh more. a whine leaving your parted lips, as he shuddered.. having a little smile on his face.
his hands traveling down to your hips, as he pressed a kiss to your lips.. letting you show how desperate you were. kissing him all needy as he moved his hand up to softly hold your face, as he fixed your hair.
“is this okay?” he softly said, making sure it was alright with you.. as you nodded. “please.” you weakly let out, sitting up as his hand went straight to your hips again.. letting you grind on his thigh.
“jesus.. look at you dude. so pretty.” he muttered, staring up at you with just the sweetest eyes ever.
you looked so pretty like this, desperate for him. christ he had hearts in his eyes, just admiring you like you were a beautiful painting. you grinded your cunt down on his thigh slowly.. before slowly grinding down your cunt more faster, humping his thigh like a dog in heat basically.
“good girl.. does that feel good?” he moved his hands down to your thighs, softly gripping them as he softly moaned. his dick straining in his pants, he didn’t care about that.. all he cared about was pleasuring you, and having you cum.
“uh huh..” you whined, your hands on his stomach slightly as your eyes fluttered.. the rough feeling of his jeans against your clothed cunt drove you feral. your mouth open slightly, letting sweet sounds slip from your lips.
“sound so pretty.. my pretty girl, fuck i love you so much.” he whined, as you felt a wave of heat run through your body at his whine.. your cunt clenching around nothing.
“i love you baby..” you muttered, looking down at him slightly as you felt your face heat up more. he looked so handsome, it drove you wild that you knew this man was yours.
your heart raced as you grinded your cunt down more, your breathing getting more faster as you squeezed your eyes closed. you hated how fast you were getting close, but god damn it felt so good.
“i’m- getting close..” you whimpered, as argyle felt his mouth water at your words. “yeah? good girl.. such a good girl. cum for me please..”
he shuddered, his dick aching as he reached his hand down to palm at his crotch a couple times before moving his hands back to your hips.
softly squeezing your hips as you moaned, clenching his shirt slightly as your mouth fell open in a silence moan.. moving your hips more faster before letting the pleasure crash down onto you.
a whiny moan leaving your mouth as argyle stared up at you like he never seen anything more beautiful, groaning as he bit down on his tongue.. a weird feeling of pleasure rushing through him as he sighed, looking up at you then down at his crotch.. blushing brightly as he noticed he came in his pants.
just from watching you get yourself off on his thigh, as you looked down at him before hugging out a little breath and laying down with him.. your faces both painted a red colour, as he wrapped his arms around you.
“did so good for me.. i love you man.” he smiled, looking down at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you too baby..”
#stranger things#smut#stranger things smut#requests are open#argyle smut#stranger things master list#stranger things argyle#argyle stranger things#argyle x you#argyle#my sweet boy
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IT’S TIME TO GO | s. gojo
(click here for part two :3 )
synopsis: the strongest sorcerer in the world is always there to swoop in like a hero and you’re sick of it.
authors note: holy crap this was a long one. this is my second fanfic I’ve ever written and I started at 10 p.m. and finished around 6 a.m. I think I maybe also make a part two to this one so let me know if you guys would like that :)
cw: lots of blood, near death, hospital setting, cussing, angst, slightly suggestive, a bit of fluff
wc: 4.1k
________________________________________
You had been asleep for quite awhile. Though technically you were unconscious. The last thing you remembered was blood, blood on your hands, and clothes and mouth. You felt the sickening sensation of losing it, of being drained of power and ability to stand up straight. You clamped your hand to your stomach, feeling the warmth of lost blood coat your fingers.
Fuck.
You were gonna die. It was a sobering moment. The enemy cackled before you, its razor sharp eyes flicking from your paling face to the blood seeping between your finger tips. It smiled a wicked knowing smile, energy radiating through it. One more hit and you’d be falling fast into nothing. You straightened at that, willing to die until you felt a steady hand on your shoulder.
“That’s enough, go rest.” Gojo said beside you, so tall you had to crane your head to meet his eyes that were hidden behind black glasses. Just at his words you felt exhaustion plague your body. But you were stubborn and Gojo made it clear many times that you were weak. You were ready to die proving him wrong. You shrugged off his hand.
“My second wind is coming,” You said spitefully but when you faced the enemy again you pitched forwards, legs fully giving out. Gojo was there to catch you with swiftness as though he knew you were about to go down. He pulled you back to safety as though you weighed nothing and sat you rather softly against a stone wall. You looked up at him, fuming. Just another reason for him to call you weak. “Ass-hole,” You coughed, blood spilling over your lips. Gojo seemed serious when he spoke, his hand coming up, long fingers pulling your hair from your eyes. It was surprisingly tender from the man that teased you constantly.
“Don’t speak or move. This’ll take a sec,” He said but added a wink. And that was the last thing you remembered until now.
Waking to bright hospital lights and rhythmic beeping. You were hooked up to a monitor with what felt like tens of little tubes all snaking around your arms. You blinked, taking in a shaky breath. It didn’t hurt to breathe like it had before. Your body didn’t feel as though you were dying. Maybe you were dead already?
You looked around and that’s when you noticed him. Gojo, sat at your bedside, head thrown back snoring, long limbs splayed about. You stared at him as the events of your fight played out again. You were losing, he swooped in. Time old tale. Anger filled you once again. All the work you’d done to prove yourself as a sorcerer and idiot Gojo with godlike powers always swoops in and saves you. It burned you up real good from the inside out. You sat up, you must’ve been out for a while because the ungodly pain you felt before you passed out was now a dull ache.
You yanked out the tubes from your arms as the machine beeped a flatlining noise. Gojo sprang up from his sleep, knocking a few things over.
“Wha! Huh! Jesus-” Gojo fumbled, you’d never seen him so disheveled. His eyes locked on you before darting to the machine then back at you. “Y-You’re awake…” He breathes out, a strange fondness in his voice. His crystal blue eyes striking. Your face soured as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“Yeah, I’m awake, and alive, so that’s terrific.” You growled, shoving the covers from your warm legs. Gojo watched you and cleared his throat.
“Uh yeah, that is a good thing…” He trailed off, curiously. You shimmied to the side of the bed and threw your legs over, going to stand but just like before your legs gave out. Too much time spent in bed it seemed. Gojo caught you, his large hands on your waist, fingers slipping accidentally under the fabric of your tank top. His hands were surprisingly warm. The closeness alarmed you so before he could say anything you pushed at his chest. He looked at you confused as you fell back onto the bed.
“You piss me off,” You sigh, avoiding his eyes. Gojo stepped back, you felt his eyes on you but you refused to meet them. If he wanted to play knight he could go help someone else, you were done.
“You’re mad that I helped you?” He posed as a question, as though you had no right to be angry. And truly maybe you didn’t, you were breathing sitting in the early morning light because of him. But you also didn’t care about rationalizing right now.
“You always help me.” You hiss.
“That’s a bad thing?”
Your eyes shot up to him, he looked amused. Anger boiled in your stomach. You’re sure you could melt steel with how hot it burned.
“You love playing the hero, don’t you?” You accuse. Gojo just looks at you, with that stupid sideways grin. He steps back and slides back into his chair. Clearly amused at your anger. It made it that much worse.
“It’s an easy thing to play.” He says cockily.
“I’m sure it is for the strongest.” You chided. He nodded his head, his smile growing even more pronounced. “Well I’m glad you got your playtime, but I’m done. I’m sure you’ve been waiting for me to say that.” His smile stopped growing, he looked at you, cocking his head just slightly like a dog.
“Hmm?”
“You told me I was the weakest and time and time again you’ve gone out of your way to prove your point.”
“Y/n-”
“Don’t interrupt me.” You snapped, his lips shut. You composed yourself, taking in a staggering breath. “You win.” You said finally, a bitterly defeated tone caressing your voice. “I’m obviously just as you said.” You swallowed, fierce eyes dulling as your eyes drifted to the floor. You’d been thinking about this for a while. How much it hurt that now it finally felt right.
“You’re quitting?” Gojo asked into the silence between you both. He was mere feet from you, manspreading like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wanted to be stubborn some more but to be completely honest, you were tired. You had been for quite a while. You didn’t want to think of it as quitting, some things just felt better being walked away from and you knew this had to be one of them. Your entire family had been begging you to quit for years, terrified you’d come home in a body bag. You started to see their side of it this past year. Why continue doing something just to spite a man that didn’t have a care in the world for you. Your lack of an answer was an answer enough for Gojo. He breathed out in relief, a small laugh escaping from his lips. “Never thought this day would come.” Your eyes shot up. He looked relieved, almost happy at your declaration. You had no clue why he could be so kind to others and so cruel to you.
“You know what?” You started angrily. “Fuck you.” You growled, staggering to your feet, wobbling. Gojo reached out just in case you fell again but you pushed past his hands towards the clean clothes on the desk near the bathroom. You stripped off your tank top and shorts, exposed to the cool hospital air in just underwear and a bra. You heard Gojo make a low noise and you slightly turned, he had shielded his eyes, cheeks red in embarrassment, jaw set tightly. Rolling your eyes you pulled a shirt over your head and shimmied into the pants.
“Are you decent?” Gojo asked, his voice low. You didn’t answer him, you just yanked your shoes from the corner and sat back on the bed to put them on. Gojo peeked out from behind his hand then pulled it away when he saw you were dressed. Gojo sighed, swallowing thickly. “You should really take it easy, Y/n. I mean-- you almost died out there. I thought you were dead when I-,” He stopped talking. You looked at him, he was serious again. Gojo was never very serious, it was a strange sight. He cleared his throat like he was composing himself, crystal blue eyes sliding to yours. “Look, just take it easy, don’t go stomping around getting yourself hurt again.” You stared at him and suddenly you were laughing, it was a soft laugh, intimidating to your own ears. You just felt so out of control with your feelings around him, of anger and exhaustion and embarrassment. So many people admired the man in front of you and all you wanted to do was get one good hit on him.
“That sounded like you really cared, bravo.” You jested sharply.
“I do care.” Gojo said and that made you laugh even harder. A sort of belly laugh that had you aching all over.
“Fuck! That’s funny.” You said in between gasps.
“Y/n.” Gojo started but you just shook your head, holding up your hand to halt his words.
“Just leave, Gojo. Seriously, why’re you even still here?” You asked amused. You watched the man’s throat bob as though you wouldn’t like the answer.
“Y/n, come on, you really don’t know why?”
“No, no please enlighten me oh strong one.” You provoked as you slipped on your shoes. You heard Gojo sigh exasperatedly, you looked up just as he ran a hand through his white shaggy hair, the pieces falling into perfect place. It was annoying to say the least. Gojo was the perfect specimen, everything about him was handsome. It was infuriating to say the least. Maddening that you had found him charming when you first met him. How quickly feelings of wanting to kiss him turned to wanting to kill him. How stupid you were back then…
“Of course I care for you. I go out of my way to make sure you make it back from your fights.”
“Because you think I’m weak. That I need help.”
“Everybody needs help sometimes.”
“Not you.” You snap and he exhales a soft laugh.
“Not me.” He says gently. “Maybe one day I’ll meet my match.” Gojo waves off as though that’s something absurd and annoyingly enough you think not one single soul could ever think to touch him.
“You undermine me. You try to prove time and time again how weak I am.”
“You’re not weak.”
“You’re a hypocrite!” You growl accusingly. Gojo sighs again as if this whole conversation is annoying to him. “You babysit me more than the damn kids! You’re at everyone of my goddamn fights-”
“Making sure you don’t get yourself killed.” Gojo adds flippantly.
“But wouldn’t that be easier for you?”
“Hmm?” Gojo hums.
“If it’s such a goddamn chore why don’t you just let me die!” You burst, Gojo finally looks at you, your breathing hard, still healing and already pushing yourself, further proving what he’d just said. “You hate me. I know you do so why not just-”
“I’m not gonna sit back and let you die.” He waved off.
“Why not!” You pushed off the bed, it creaked with the sudden movement. For once you were looking down at Gojo and him up at you. The blood rushed around your body, you were heated, swaying slightly.
“I already told you why you didn’t listen.” Gojo says slowly, his eyes watching you carefully. For a moment you two stared at each other as you breathed heavily. He told you a lie and hoped you would believe it. That man cares about nothing but himself, if he thought for a moment you’d believe otherwise he was a mad man. So you nodded your head and turned away from him grabbing your stuff. “Where are you going?” He asked.
“I already told you but you didn’t listen.” You threw back at him. You were going home, that’s where all quitters end up after a while and to be honest you craved nothing more than home right now. The warm pull of it. You heard Gojo spring up from his chair.
“Wait, Y/n,” You felt his slender fingers catch your arm and you yanked away from him in an instant. At your reaction Gojo raised his hands to show he wasn’t going to touch you anymore. You turned, shooting daggers with your glare. He was towering over you again, so much bigger than you in many many ways. It would be intimidating if you weren’t so damn angry all the time.
“I’m quitting and leaving for good, Gojo, you don’t have to pretend anymore.” You jeered and he rolled his eyes. Rolled his eyes at you! You steamed all over. “What the fuck is so amusing to you about this!” You seethed, angry tears coming to your eyes. “I’m quitting because of you!” You poked him hard in the chest, he didn’t flinch. “Everyone raves about the great sorcerer Satoru Gojo but you--,” You stumbled over your words, suddenly embarrassed by the onslaught of tears rolling down your cheeks. You turned away from him and hastily wiped them away. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see you cry. You kept your back to him as you spoke. “I was so excited to meet you for the first time. So excited to be a sorcerer alongside you but-- now I can’t stand the thought. Can’t believe I ever thought-”
“Y/n, turn around.” Gojo’s voice was level behind you. You bit your lip. You weren’t turning around. Your emotions were still on display for him to see, you needed this cover until you wrangled them back in.
“Shut up,” You said over your shoulder. It felt like a childish thing to say but you didn’t trust yourself in saying more than two words right now as more tears streamed down your face.
“Turn around or I’m turning you around.” Gojo warned but his words didn’t have a hard edge like you assumed they would. It almost, almost, sounded like a plea. You let out a shaky breath, wiped your cheeks dry and slowly, against your better judgment, turned around. He wasn’t amused this time. No stupid smirk or condescending words. You stared at him as his eyes met yours, he took in your red eyes and blushed cheeks, some tears had fallen on your gray shirt in small drops.
Slowly and hesitantly Gojo reached for you. You froze as his hands slid against your cheeks, one hand tucking a loose strand of hair. The pad of his thumb gently wiped a rogue tear away and you couldn’t force yourself to move. Your senses were overwhelmed, His hands on your face, his eyes looking at you almost… benevolently? It was a strange, strange, sight to behold and it stopped your thoughts and clouded your mind as he touched you. You felt your heart like a bird with one wing banging around in your ribcage and you hoped you weren’t still breathing so heavily. His eyes darted between yours before dipping low to your lips, his eyes lingered there for a long moment. Your stomach flipped at that. It was like your ability to think rationally and logically had paused to make way for this moment.
“Please,” Gojo started in a pleading sort of voice. “Please don’t kill me for this.” He whispers, breath hitting your lips a second before his own lips. Is it right for the strongest man to act like this? To kiss you in a way that has your knees buckling? His right hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. As though even a centimeter of space between you two was too far. You gasped into his mouth when his fingers gently dug into the skin of your waist, sliding under the hem of your tee shirt. Warm hands like before. God this was… insane. Unbelievable. Deranged. Ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe this would happen in a millenia. If anyone had said to you that Satoru Gojo would say please before pressing his lips to your own, you would’ve spat in their face and called them mad. But they weren’t mad. Gojo tugged you closer and pressed you back into the door that led to the hallway, he reached down and you heard the click of the lock. His entire body taut against yours. Enveloping everything around you until all you could feel was him and the hard press of the wooden door to your back. His lips, surprisingly soft, chased after yours. Slowly your hands moved from your sides, seemingly of their own accord. They came up to slide around the back of his neck and into his hair, tugging softly. He groaned into your mouth and it rocked you to your core, your breath catching in your throat. He’s kissing you once and twice and over and over. His hands gripping you, pulling you. You realize, infuriatingly, you’ve wanted this. He pulls away for a moment and you both are staring, completely out of breath, pupils blown wide, lips red raw.
Instinct kicked in as you raised your hand and viciously swung it to meet his cheek but of course he caught it. He didn’t look surprised or angry, he looked hungry, like a starving man that had just gotten a taste of something he wanted to devour. You wanted a small saving grace before the laughter kicked in as though him kissing you was some big elaborate joke. You hoped the slap would combat just how much you were affected by the kiss. As though you could truly hide behind the violence of it. But it was futile. You wanted this and he fucking knew it. But you knew something even more valuable. He kissed you first. He pleaded before kissing you. He wanted this just as much if not more than you.
At that thought he’s reaching for you again. He’s kissing you harder and deeper and pulling you towards the bed with a fervent need you’ve never experienced before in your life. It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, leaves you a panting mess as he presses you down against the rough hospital mattress, body caging your own. There was a sort of explosive urgency to it all. Like he couldn’t stop if he goddamn tried. And god dammit you didn’t want him to stop. You didn't want his hands anywhere else but on you, his lips on you, his body on you. It was all consuming like the fire in your stomach. He was kissing you gently and you just wanted more, all the anger of the day and past few months bubbling over. With a quick movement that you're sure he could’ve predicted you flipped over on top, pressing him back into the pillows. He makes a low sound in his throat and you know he likes it for some reason. He leans up so that you're practically straddling his lap and you feel a smirk against your lips. You know he’s about to speak.
“Don’t-- don’t ruin the moment.” You mutter breathless against his lips, your voice almost hoarse. Both of Gojo’s hands dropped to your waist, fingers gripping as he moved your hips against his. You made a sound that wasn’t at all decent as lights bloomed and burned within you. You pressed closer to him, moving on your own accord and finding a thrill when a strangled sort of whimper escaped Gojo’s lips. Jesus… You thought as you kissed him hard enough to break him open.
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.
“Ms. L/n?” A nurse's voice rings out, another few knocks.
“Fucking hell.” Gojo groans beneath you and suddenly the heat of the moment is up in the air. You take a few clumsy moves back away from Gojo and for a moment he looks betrayed, as though you’d just stabbed him in his back. You swallow, turning away from him and walking towards the door, flicking the lock and opening the door. The nurse smiles at you, she tells you that it’s best not to lock the doors just in case of an emergency and you smile, apologizing to her. When she leaves you leave the door cracked and turn back, Gojo is sitting with his legs over the side of the bed. It’s awkward suddenly and you're not so sure what to do with your hands that had been all over the man you really thought you hated. It was all very confusing. Gojo clears his throat.
“I think it’s good that you're quitting.” He says and just like that things aren’t so confusing to you anymore.
“Are you fucking-”
“I can’t worry about you all the time, it’s affecting everything I do, Y/n. I mean… seriously you drive me crazy the way you just run into danger.” Gojo looks over at you, his eyes intense. He meant every word of what he said. Your words stagger in your throat, torn between anger and confusion. “I really thought I was gonna lose you this time, I mean… there was so much blood and you were out for days, it was a fucking nightmare. How could you put me through all that? Huh?”
“I didn’t…” You really didn’t know what to say. This was all news to you. Gojo caring and all but you supposed since he showed up all the time… Maybe he always had?
“You know the worst of it? You are strong, you're very strong and maybe if you worked at it for a couple years you could rival me… But I don’t want that. I don’t want you anywhere near the shit I have to face. Not at all.”
“So you want me to give up?”
“No…” Gojo swallows, running a hand through his hair. He looked so torn with what he wanted to say and what he should say. Slowly things were coming into perspective. Gojo stands, he sighs and walks across the room. “I want you to be safe. That’s all I have ever wanted for you.” Emotion plagued you, you felt it in your chest, a warmth spreading.
“So… all this time you chased and annoyed the shit outta me because you have a crush?” You jested, Gojo’s eyes shot to yours. You smile, it's small but it’s there. Gojo unashamedly nods his head. “That’s so… embarrassing. Just wait til I tell Nanami, he'll tease you relentlessly.” You joke as Gojo cracks a smile, shaking his head.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Gojo breaths out, moving closer to you. Your breath catches. The implication of the moment is heavy. Your head swam, to stay a sorcerer or leave it behind now that you knew you had potential. You still missed your family and if you were being honest with yourself going home just felt like the right thing. You felt you knew when it was time to go.
“I think I’ll head home.” You say into the small space between you two. He swallows dryly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He was so handsome and it used to make you so mad, but not so much right now. Gojo nodded softly. This side of him was something you wished to know more about but there wouldn’t be much time with the distance between you both.
“God, you look like we’ll never see each other again.” Gojo says suddenly, his hand reaching and tucking some hair behind your ear.
“Not as much as usual.” You say in an amused tone.
“I’ll come visit as long as I’m welcome.” He says and you blush at his closeness, his eyes darting to your lips and you cursed the force that had kept you two apart for so long. You felt weirdly like you’d made a new friend and maybe he could be more than that someday.
“I don’t know if my parents would like you.”
“Parents love me, Y/n.” Gojo boasts as you roll your eyes.
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Well I’ll just have to prove you wrong.” He says matter of factly. You blush even deeper at the confidence. He smirks at you like he knows he’s made you hot.
“I guess I’ll take you up on that bet.” You say and his smirk grows even wider.
————————————————————————————————————————
hi!! thanks for reading!! if you’d like a part two let me know :)
also if you like sanemi from demon slayer this is my first fan fic I wrote. check it out if you want :)
https://www.tumblr.com/calypsocolada/721687019276894208/practical-s-shinazugawa
#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#gojo fanfic#gojo angst#satoru gojo
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this was requested a little while ago by the lovely @mikqls0n !!! i don't know what came over me whilst writing this but it's one of the most wild things i've written in a while!! enjoy :)
Dream a Little Dream of Me- Jamie bower/Jace Wayland x Reader
summary: you often dream of your boyfriend whilst he's away, but never like this...
warnings: NSFW!! contains smut!! (threesome, use of sex toys, oral- giving and receiving, and much more!!) I AM GOING TO HELL FOR THIS!!!
notes: this is written in a way that it takes part in a dream, so there'll be a few parts where it suddenly moves from one thing to another... like a dream :) (i hope that makes sense!!) also, i feel like it's been a while since i've written a 6 PAGE LONG SMUT?!?!!?!
When you miss your boyfriend whilst he’s away filming or on tour, you find that you seem to have rather… peculiar dreams involving him in various forms, sometimes you would dream of him, sometimes you would dream of Peter, Jace, Kit, and even sometimes Anthony.
Tonight, you lied back in bed and let your eyes shut, after sending Jamie a goodnight text, and you wondered where your brain would take you tonight…
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You’re rushed along by Jamie as he leads you to his room, Jace following shortly behind the two of you. You had discussed this before, during a game of spin the bottle truth or dare, you were asked what your ‘weirdest’ sexual fantasy would be, and when you said the work ‘threesome’ Jamie snorted, as if to say, ‘that’s all?’
The two of you discussed it that night, and you both concluded that the most suitable candidate to join you would be Jace. You were happy about this, very happy. You thought Jace was so hot, just like Jamie. You hadn’t realised before how they even looked similar, but that didn’t bother you when you felt tingles in your belly and an ache between your thighs.
Jamie opened his bedroom door, you didn’t know how you knew it was his as you’ve never been in this house before, but you knew it. He switches the light on and fixes his bedsheets as you and Jace enter, Jace shuts the door behind him and locks it, assuring that you won’t be interrupted tonight.
Once Jamie had tidied his bed up, he looks between the two of you, and starts to approach you.
“You’re such an angel for letting us do this, you know.” He tells you, placing his finger beneath your chin and making you look up at him.
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to try,” you tell him, before turning to look at Jace, “and I couldn’t have gotten any luckier.”
You motion with your finger for Jace to come closer, and as he follows your lead, you place your hand on your cheek and lean in to kiss him. Jamie watches as Jace places his hands on your waist, and his kisses move down your jaw to your neck. Jamie takes this an opportunity to kiss you, and you turn your head towards him, letting his lips meet yours whilst giving Jace more access to your neck as he sucks and nibbles on the delicate skin. Your hand comes down to Jamie’s belt, tugging on it whilst your other hand busies itself playing with Jace’s hair.
“There’s no going back now, honey.” Jamie tells you as you hear the metal of his belt clinking before it drops to the floor.
You moan in response, quietly against his lips. All whilst Jace works on taking off your jeans.
In moments, your left in just your bra and panties, sitting on the edge of the bed with Jamie’s cock in your mouth, his fingers in your hair, guiding your face back and forwards as he fucked your throat. Jace was on his knees, your underwear pushed to the side as his tongue worked magic on your pussy. His tongue would circle your clit, pulling back every now and then to kiss it, all whist his fingers worked you open, preparing you for his cock. Each curl of his fingers against that special spot inside you made your body shake, your thighs trembling as they attempt to close, but Jace holds them open, his hands placed flat on your thighs as he keeps you spread open for him, staring at your most private areas with hungry eyes, as if you were the last meal he would eat.
Jace could tell you were getting close, and he looked up at Jamie, as if to ask if you were allowed to cum. Jamie simply gave Jace a nod and he went back to work, whilst Jamie stroked your face. His big hand caressed your face, as he continued to force his cock down your throat. Six months ago, you would gag whilst only taking two of his fingers into your mouth, but he had trained you to take him in your mouth. It made you happy that you could please him like this, and he loved nothing more than to see you holding back tears at the intrusion.
As a tear fell from your eye, Jamie swiped it away with his thumb, before he felt his cock twitch in your throat. He didn’t want to finish, not just yet. He wanted to be the first to fuck you tonight, although he was open to the idea of a threesome, you noticed he was still very possessive over you. Every time you would moan Jace’s name as he ate you out, you saw Jamie’s eyes darken. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before.
He slipped his cock out of your mouth, and you began to cough, all whilst you were pushed to the edge by Jace finally. His unforgiving mouth and fingers didn’t stop, they didn’t falter one bit, and you were soon gripping onto the sheets with one hand, and Jace’s hair in the other, and you felt the pleasure wash through your body. You would’ve let a load moan slip your lips if it wasn’t for Jamie’s hand clasping over your mouth, reminding you that there were still people downstairs. But that didn’t bother you right now, you were too busy trying to squirm away from Jace as he continued to fuck you with his fingers after you rode out your high, and he smirked as he saw how you reacted when were overstimulated, and he didn’t want to stop. However, Jamie had other plans, and he wanted Jace to move, so with one final kiss to your clit, Jace got up from his knees and wiped your slick from his face with the back of his hand.
“My sweet girl,” Jamie cooed, helping you to lie back on the bed, “you’re so fucked out already, and we haven’t even fucked you yet.” He taunted, running a finger from your entrance to your clit, and back again, circling your hole with the tip of his finger.
“I can… I can take it.” You panted, looking at him with desperate eyes.
“How do you want to take us, sweetheart?” Jace asked, caressing your face. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pulling it down as your eyes met his. His looked even hungrier than Jamie’s as his thumb slipped between your lips and you began to suck on it, gliding your tongue along it.
“You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you baby?” Jamie took his dick in his hand and slid his length against your fold, you sucked in a sharp breath as the tip brushed against your swollen clit, and he chuckled, telling you how cute you looked beneath him. You squirmed as his cock nudged you apart, and he slowly filled you, inch by inch. Before he was even fully in, you reached out to grasp his shoulder in attempt to slow him down.
“I can’t- It won’t fit- I-“
“Shhh,” his hand slid down your body before he held onto your hip, pulling you towards him, and he pushed the rest of his cock inside, “see, it fits, honey.” He said, before leaning down to place a kiss just above your belly button.
You quickly became aware of Jace’s presence again, and you took his cock into your hand. You noticed it was slightly bigger than Jamie’s, and you wondered how he would even fit without splitting you apart!
“Fuck!” You groaned as Jamie began to move, his cock sliding out until only the head remained, and then slamming back in, “J-J…” You babbled as Jace reached between your bodies and toyed with your clit again. The pleasure was beginning to fog your mind, but you’re brought back to reality when you feel Jace’s cock twitch in your hand. You squeeze your hand around the base of his cock before pumping again, slower this time, giving you time to stroke your thumb over the tip with every pump.
Suddenly, you’ve moved again. You were sat on Jamie’s lap as he sits against the headboard, his cock still buried inside you as your legs are spread over his, your back to his chest.
“So good for me…” He tells you, kissing your neck as he begins to thrust his hips upwards at a pace that made you throw your head back, “how does it feel, love?” Jamie asks.
“S-so good!” You whimper, feeling a hand slide down your body.
“Eyes open, darling.” Jace reminds you, and when you open your eyes, they immediately widen.
The low buzzing sound of a vibrator- your vibrator filled the room and could’ve sworn you had reached paradise when you felt Jace hold it to your clit, all whilst Jamie continued pounding into you.
“Oh my- Shit!” You cursed, your eyes screwing shut as you begin to rut your hips against the toy.
You felt your high approaching dangerously fast, but you had no time to tell them, and you came, your walls clenching around Jamie’s cock, bringing him closer to the edge as he begins to slow the pace down. Yet Jace remains there, keeping the toy held closely to your sensitive clit.
“Think you can give us another one, angel?” Jace asks, devilish eyes taking in the sight of your body like this.
You shook your head, you didn’t believe you could handle anymore, but Jamie thought otherwise.
“I know you can, sweetheart. Show him.” He says as he slips his cock out of you.
You were then moved again. You were lying down, your back against the mattress as Jace continued the torture on your bundle of nerves. He had spread your legs for him, and his face was level to your cunt. He was taking in the sight of how it looked, how your cunt pulsed as you felt your high approaching, which is when he would lift the toy up, depriving you of that feeling.
“Jace… please…” You pant, your eyes meeting his. But he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he moves to the side a little, and you wonder why.
Until you see Jamie between your legs again.
His finger dips into you, collecting some of your slick before moving it down.
Oh shit.
“J-Jamie, what are you?”
“Shhh,” he hushes you, and you feel his finger trace the hole where no one has ever explored before, “you want both of us to fuck you, right?” He asks, and you notice he nods his head at Jace, which then leads him to switching the vibrator back on and putting it to the highest setting.
“Mmm,” you try to speak but no words begin to form in your brain, it feels fuzzy as the warmth in your belly starts to feel more intense, “yes… yes, please.” You tell him.
“Then we’ll have to stretch you out, honey. We don’t want to hurt you.” He says as the tip of his finger eases into you. It’s a different type of pleasure, one you’ve never experienced before, but you were excited to see where it could take you.
You’re too focused on the feeling Jace is giving you to realise Jamie had slipped his finger into you, your hole contracting around him before he slowly eases it out again, repeating these motions as he gets you used to this sensation.
“That’s our good girl,” says Jace, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “think you can take another?” He asks as Jamie’s middle finger rubs between your folds, coating it in your slick before bringing it to join the first. But it was too much.
“No..” you mumbled, your hand coming down to tug at Jamie’s wrist, and he instantly pulled away.
“What’s wrong sweetheart, did I hurt you?” Jamie asked, cautiously scanning your face, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Too much…” You babbled, feeling your climax approaching quickly as Jace continued moving the toy on your pussy. You came with a yelp, digging your nails into Jamie’s arm as the wave of pleasure ran through your body.
You were a sweaty, panting mess beneath the two men, but you were eager to give them both what they wanted. As Jace switched the vibrator off again, you felt like you could finally think straight again.
“I’m sorry,” you began, but Jamie quickly stopped you.
“Hey, don’t apologise darling. We’ve never tried anything like this before, it’s okay. There are still other ways to do this.” He comforts you, stroking your cheek.
“Would you like us to stop, love?” Jace asks gently, to which you shake your head.
“No, not yet.” You tell them, “I think I just needed a moment to… recover. But I want to do this, with the two of you.”
“No, darling,” Jamie tells you, “I don’t want you getting hurt. You could barely take my finger-“
“Then how about you fuck about whilst I give Jace head?” You ask, teasingly rolling onto your stomach, your ass up with your face down, just how he likes.
Jamie felt the rush of blood again, and he was ready to go again, to give you just what you needed. Jace had to bite his lip as he sat on the bed, pulling your face into his lap, the tip of his cock nudging your lips.
“Ready for this, angel?”
“Yes, fuck.” You push your ass back against Jamie, and he angles his hips as he slides into you, splitting you apart on his cock.
You wrap your lips around the tip of Jace’s dick, gently sucking on the sensitive spot before sliding your tongue along his shaft. Your eyes meet his as you look up, and you can see he’s holding back, and you want him to let loose. You don’t want him to hold back anymore.
As you begin to take him into your mouth again, you take his hand and place it on your head as you begin bobbing up and down, and he soon realises what you want him to do. He wraps his hand in your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he guides your head up and down roughly, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time, whilst Jamie continues to fuck you.
You feel Jamie’s hands on your waist, pulling you back and forth to meet his thrusts. The position you were in caused Jamie to hit all the right spots inside you, and you couldn’t help but moan against Jace’s cock, which twitched in your throat, causing you to almost gag.
Jamie’s pace sped up, and he became rougher as he chased his high. Your eyes rolled back as his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles with his fingers.
“I’m close, darling.” He said breathlessly, his nails digging into your flesh.
“Fuck, me too.” Jace muttered, looking down and marvelling at your fucked out expression.
Jamie could feel you were close again too, the way you were pulsing and clenching around him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your spine before he released inside of you with a loud groan. You wished you could’ve looked at him at this moment, you pictured his messy hair falling over his eyes, the glow of sweat on his body, the rising and falling of his chest.
You feel the warmth of his cum coat your walls, making your belly warm as his hand continued its attack on your clit, and before you knew it you were sent over the edge again, your body collapsing against the bed as you continued to sloppily suck Jace’s cock, until you felt him twitch again.
“Shit,” Jace groaned, pulling his cock out of your mouth, “open wide, honey.”
You stuck your tongue out, and you felt as Jace’s release filled your mouth. He managed to pump most of it into your mouth, but a few spurts coated your chin and cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Jace smiled lazily at you as you swallowed his release.
You noticed Jamie had disappeared, and as you turned around to look for him, you saw him returning from the bathroom with a cloth to wipe you down with.
“You did so well, gorgeous.” Jamie tells you as he cleans you up.
The material of the cloth rubs against your clit, and you hiss, feeling more sensitive than ever down there. Jamie whispers a sweet ‘sorry’ as he continues to wipe your combined mess away. Jace then reaches over and takes the cloth from Jamie and wipes your face, smiling at you as he does.
You felt so tired, so exhausted, but fulfilled at the same time. You smiled to yourself as you rolled over onto your back, hearing the two men get dressed again.
And you must have fell asleep…
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Suddenly, you woke up. You had never had a dream so intense, so detailed. Normally, your sex dreams would be vague and last only a matter of seconds, but this one was different.
You suddenly noticed you felt uncomfortable. You had soaked your underwear with the slick that your wet dream caused. You went to the bathroom and put on a pair of clean panties, before reaching for your phone to text Jamie.
You had text him to say good night before going to sleep, and you noticed he had text back, saying:
‘Sweet dreams angel. I can’t wait to come home and see you again soon, but make sure you get some rest. Goodnight my love x’
You think before replying, but you know Jamie would find what you’re about to say funny. So you send him a text:
‘You’ll never guess what happened in my dream last night!’
#jace wayland#jamie campbell bower rpf#jamie campbell bower smut#jamie campbell bower#jace wayland smut#jamie campbell bower x reader#jace wayland x reader#jamie bower x reader#jamie bower smut#jamie bower#jcb#jace herondale smut#jace herondale
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Untitled 6 — Aleix/Max
Max fumbled with his keys, the alcohol still buzzing in his system as he swayed on his feet, trying to shove the key into the lock. The night had been a blur of music and laughter, the kind of fun that felt carefree in the moment but left him feeling hollow afterward. When he finally managed to get the door open, he pushed it wide, stumbling into the apartment with a heavy sigh. His laughter from earlier, loud and wild, had faded into a quiet that now felt too heavy. He blinked at the dim light that greeted him, eyes struggling to adjust as the world tilted around him.
Aleix was sitting on the couch, waiting for him. Max hadn’t expected to see him still up, but there he was, his face softening with concern the moment Max walked in. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood up and came over to Max, his hands steady as he reached out to catch Max before he tripped over his own feet.
“You’re back late,” Aleix said gently, wrapping a firm arm around Max’s waist, guiding him toward the couch before he could collapse right there in the doorway. Max could feel the strength in Aleix’s touch, solid and grounding. The twins weren’t here tonight — Aleix had dropped them off at their mom’s earlier — so it was just the two of them in the quiet apartment. No distractions. No buffer. Just them.
“Did you have fun?” Aleix asked, helping Max sit down on the couch.
Max nodded, though the words caught in his throat, sticking like they didn’t belong. Fun. He had fun, didn’t he? The party had been great — friends, drinks, everything — but now, it all felt too much. The room spun, and with it, the ache in his chest deepened. His head fell back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. Everything felt wrong, too loud and too quiet at the same time.
Aleix sat next to him, watching closely. He knew that look on Max’s face all too well — the way his eyes clouded, his expression shifting from carefree to something darker, deeper. He reached out, fingers brushing lightly over Max’s arm, offering comfort, but Max flinched away, his body tensing under Aleix’s touch.
"You’re gonna leave me," Max mumbled suddenly, his voice thick with alcohol and the tears already threatening to spill. "Iedereen verlaat me zodra ze moe worden. Why wouldn’t you?"
Aleix froze for a moment, his brow furrowing as the words sank in. This wasn’t the first time Max had said something like this, but it never got easier to hear. He crouched down in front of Max, his hands resting firmly on Max’s knees, steadying him as if trying to keep him from falling apart. Despite being the same size, Max seemed small like this, his fear making him shrink in on himself.
"Sweetheart, look at me," Aleix said, his voice calm, gentle, the way it always was when Max spiraled like this. He hated seeing Max like this — so fragile, so scared — but he knew pushing too hard would only make it worse. "I’m not going anywhere."
Max shook his head, not wanting to hear it. "You will," he whispered, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Maybe not tonight, but someday. You’ll wake up and realize I’m not enough, and you’ll go." His words slurred into Dutch as his emotions poured out. "Ik wil niet alleen zijn."
Aleix’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of Max unraveling in front of him, raw and vulnerable in a way that he rarely showed to anyone else. They’d been together for years, but Max’s fear of abandonment never seemed to fade. No matter how many times Aleix reassured him, no matter how many times he stayed, Max’s past still haunted him. Aleix reached up, gently wiping away the tears that had begun to spill down Max’s cheeks, his thumb brushing the soft skin tenderly.
"Max, listen to me," Aleix said quietly, his voice full of affection. "I’ve been with you this long because I love you. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever." He moved to sit beside Max, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. Max resisted at first, but eventually, the tension in his body gave way, and he let himself be held, burying his face in Aleix’s chest, his body trembling with the effort to keep himself together.
"I don’t wanna lose you," Max whispered, his voice muffled against Aleix’s shirt, the desperation clear in every syllable. "I don’ wanna be alone again."
Aleix’s arms tightened around Max, his fingers running through Max’s hair in a soothing motion. "You won’t," Aleix promised, his voice steady, unshakable. "You have me. Always."
Max clung to Aleix like a lifeline, his fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as though letting go would make Aleix disappear. He wanted so badly to believe him, to trust that Aleix wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t turn into one more person who promised to stay and then walked away. But the fear lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind, whispering that it was only a matter of time.
Even now, with Aleix holding him, Max couldn’t fully shake the thought. Kelly had promised she wouldn’t leave too. So had others. But they all did. The ring on his finger — his wedding ring — felt heavy now, like it was too much, like it was a promise that could be broken at any moment. What if Aleix woke up one day and realized Max wasn’t enough? What if he got tired of Max’s insecurities, his fears, his constant need for reassurance?
But for now, wrapped in Aleix’s arms, Max tried to push those thoughts away. He focused on the steady beat of Aleix’s heart beneath his ear, the warmth of his body, the soft reassurances Aleix whispered into his hair. It wasn’t perfect — Max wasn’t magically healed — but for tonight, it was enough. Aleix was always enough.
Aleix held him close, whispering softly until Max’s breathing evened out, the weight of the night finally catching up with him. The fear wasn’t gone, but with Aleix there, it felt a little more bearable. And that was enough, at least for now.
#idk#this is the blurb of all blurbs#(short and stupid)#f1#formula 1#motogp#rarepair#crack ship#aleix espargaro#ae41#max verstappen#mv1#mv33#rbr#red bull racing#aprilia#dang im gonna have to tag “retired old man” after this season#hurt/comfort#tw kelly piquet mention#kats motogp blurbs!
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Fluffy February - @fluffyfebruary Day 6: Fire Word count: 720 Fandom: Ripper Street Pairing: Homer Jackson/Edmund Reid AO3
Sorry, y'all, this one's a bit angsty, but it's full of emotional h/c and has a fluffy ending, I promise!
Reid was burning. Agony tore through his chest, his shoulder, his back, his breath caught somewhere in his throat. His head swam, blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the chaotic sounds around him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. He could barely see, but he knew he’d seen Mathilda disappear beneath the murky water of the Thames as he was pinned by fire and flame.
A sob tore its way from his chest and he pushed against the weight pinning him down, heedless of the way it scorched his hands in the process. He had to get to Mathilda, he had to save his little girl. He couldn’t fail her, couldn’t lose her.
“Reid,” A voice cut through the ringing in his ears, distant but insistent. “Wake up.”
He groaned, trying to turn his head, but the pain was too much, and he choked down another sharp sob, squeezing his eyes shut. The next time he pushed, his hands met soft, warm flesh, and his eyes snapped open again.
“Hey,” a soothing voice said by his ear, a gentle hand pushing his sweat-slick hair back off his forehead. “You’re okay, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”
Jackson. It was Jackson who held him, Jackson whom he’d been pushing at, Jackson who’d witnessed his complete lack of control, stuck in the depths of a nightmare that felt more real than his life did most days.
His breath stuttered as hot tears streamed down his cheeks, and he felt shame fill him up.
“You’re okay,” Jackson soothed, careful not to pin him in, gentle but not crowding. If Reid wasn’t already crying, that surely would have set him off.
“Sorry,” he choked out, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Don’t be.”
Jackson sat up, warm eyes meeting Reid’s in the dim light stealing through the window.
Reid cleared his throat, forcing himself to take a deep breath, cursing inwardly when it shook on the exhale. He pushed himself up to sitting, wincing at the ache in his shoulder as he did so, and watched as Jackson lit two cigarettes, handing one to Reid. He took it with trembling fingers, but couldn’t bring himself to take a drag, the smoke from his nightmare still feeling trapped in his chest somehow.
“You wanna talk about it?” Jackson asked, resting against the headboard, no longer looking at Reid, instead studying the end of his cigarette.
He shook his head and handed the cigarette back, who took it and stubbed it out without question, and Reid half loved him for it, for the way he didn’t push or needle the way he usually did, for the way he seemed to respect the precarious grip Reid had on his own emotions.
“It helps,” Jackson added after a while, lazily turning his head to look at Reid again. “Or so I’m told.”
Reid snorted, barely a laugh, but it loosened something in his chest nonetheless. “Just old nightmares,” he said with a heavy sigh, pleased to find his breath no longer shook. “Sorry I woke you.”
Jackson shrugged, offering Reid a lazy, half-lidded smile. “S’nothing.” Then, after a beat, “Can I touch you?”
Reid nodded, and almost instantly, Jackson’s arm came around his shoulders between him and the headboard, fingertips brushing the scars on his shoulder as he pulled Reid in against his side.
“You don’t gotta pretend life hasn’t fucked you up when you’re with me, Reid,” Jackson said into his hair, and Reid closed his eyes aginst the threat of fresh tears. “I got you, no matter what.”
Jackson pressed a kiss into Reid’s hair, and he felt himself melting into Jackson’s side, the tension he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding leaving his body in a flood. His breath hitched with a sob, and he pressed his face into the crook of Jackson’s neck.
“I promise it’s not always like this,” Reid murmured against Jackson’s skin before leaving a feather-light kiss to his collar bone. “It’s been months since I last dreamt of…of that day.”
Jackson huffed a laugh, letting his head rest on top of Reid’s, fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll pay you back one day, Reid. We all got demons we try to hide.”
“You needn’t hide them with me, Captain.”
“Nor you with me, Inspector.”
#ripper street#homer jackson#edmund reid#jackmund#fanfiction#my writing#fluffy february#i actually kinda hate this but also writing these at the end of each day and barely editing them will do that 😂#like I wrote this in about 30 mins and that’s my writing exercise for the day - we can’t expect perfection
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Why did you not eat correctly? Did you want to be thin?
It’s not that, really. It’s a few things.
I’ve always had problems with how things feel. Certain kinds of things that I touch or smell just make me recoil and feel gross, even if I know they objectively aren’t. The same applies to taste, and how some foods feel in my mouth or sit in my stomach. If it’s got a lot of complicated, varying textures, or if it sits too heavy or too light inside, I feel sick and sore and uncomfortable.
This uncomfortableness gets worse if I find myself thinking about how the digestive system works, or about anything else stressful. Because I don’t want to feel that way, I’ve always been picky. Dad used to hate that.
I also have difficulty feeling hungry most of the time, only getting the strong signals from my body that I need to have some sort of nourishment when it’s been a long time. So it jumps from a small dull ache interchangeable with regular sadness or loneliness to a massive roaring sense of pain and desperation, which I try to satiate by eating really quickly, which makes me feel sick because I didn’t prepare the food right or chew it properly or just ate too much really. Mom couldn’t force me to have sit-down meals as I’d always be asleep when she was home.
Doctor says it’s likely my depression makes me less in tune with my body’s needs.
I don’t like looking this sick. Feeling this weak. Seeing how worried people get whenever I’m not wearing my hoodie and my baggiest pants and keep my hands in my pockets. When my doctor asked if I had a voice in my head saying I was fat, I almost laughed. That voice in my head would have to be delusional. Which I suppose it is in some people.
But some part of me does almost like how all of this makes me look like a slightly taller twelve-year-old instead of the teenager I really am, as I haven’t developed muscle or facial hair or really a deeper voice yet.
I would rather get better though at this point. I’d been surviving, in those years alone, but that’s it. I literally got diagnosed with “failure to thrive” at that doctor due to all these stupid mental blocks. I never want to see my mom as crestfallen as she was right there, ever again.
It reminded me too much of how she was in the days After.
(August 7 2000, 6:05 PM)
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Not Sick: Part 8
Whumptober day 13. This is the last part! I hope you enjoy. Prompt: “I don’t feel so good.”
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
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Whumpee woke to a heavy weight holding them down. The pressure made it hard for them to breathe. Struggling to shrug off the final fingers of sleep gripping their mind, Whumpee fought to stay calm. Despite their best efforts, their heart rate continued to rise. Their eyes popped open, and their muscles tensed.
At some point, while they slept, Whumpee had pulled Caretaker on top of them.
They really should have expected this. Whumpee often woke with pillows or wadded-up blankets in their arms. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get Caretaker sick. They had worn a mask to bed, which was part of their breathing trouble when they woke, but Caretaker was already weak from their session with Whumper.
Trying hard not to wake their sleeping friend, Whumpee twisted to lay Caretaker on the bed beside them. Caretaker flinched in Whumpee’s arms. Whumpee paused, watching their gentle face scrunch into an almost pained expression. As they relaxed, Whumpee shifted again. This time, Caretaker let out a low moan. Their muscles twitched. Brow furrowed with no sign of relaxing. It was worrying.
Moaning again, Caretaker twisted their fist into Whumpee’s shirt. Their eyes moved under their eyelids, following things Whumpee couldn’t see. “Don’t… Don’t. Don’t. Please, take me.”
Now Whumpee understood. “Wake up. Caretaker, wake up. It’s just a dream. You’re alright. You’re safe now.”
Whumpee was almost impressed with how hard Caretaker flinched as their eyes opened. They would have said as much if the motion hadn’t slammed Caretaker down on Whumpee and knocked the wind out of them.
“Whumpee? Oh no. Whumpee, I’m so sorry. I should have known this would happen. I’ve always been a cuddler in my sleep. I’m really, really sorry.”
“It’s alright! Don’t worry about it, Caretaker. I’m the same way.” Caretaker slid to the side, and Whumpee was finally able to take a full breath. “I’m sorry for waking you. It seemed like you were having a nightmare.”
Caretaker ducked their head, “Don’t worry about it. I needed to wake up and change my bandages anyway.” They pressed their hand against Whumpee’s forehead. “I think your fever finally broke. How are you feeling?”
“I don’t want to talk about that. Can you tell me what you were dreaming about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine. I don’t feel good at all. Every muscle in my body aches. I think if I tried to stand, I would puke, and my head and throat are throbbing. Now, were you dreaming about Whumper?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Look, if anyone is going to understand what you may or may not be feeling right now, it’s me. You don’t have to talk about it, but I want you to know you can. I know I haven’t built a reputation of being the best at listening, but please, I want you to come to me if you ever feel scared or angry or hurt or anything at all.”
Caretaker giggled. “Don’t want me to pick up any bad coping mechanisms?”
Whumpee shrugged, “If you do, I know what that’s like too.”
Instead of answering, Caretaker buried their head in Whumpee’s chest. After a comfortable moment, their head whipped up, eyes wide, “Wait. I’m so sorry, is this okay? I didn’t mean to just throw myself on you again. It’s just before you said-”
“It’s okay if it’s you.” Whumpee pushed Caretaker’s head back onto their chest, careful of their injuries. “I meant it then, I mean it now.”
“Why?”
“You’re safe.” Whumpee rested their chin gently on top of Caretaker’s head. “I didn’t know it at first. When I was rescued, nothing felt safe. I don’t know when things changed, but they did. Maybe, one day, I’ll be safe for you too.”
“You already are, Whumpee.” Caretaker yawned and snuggled in closer. “Thank you.”
As Caretaker drifted off to sleep, Whumpee petted their hair and whispered. “You saved my life, Caretaker. If all I can do to start making it up to you is to listen to your woes and hold you as you sleep, I promise to listen and hold on until the day we die. You mean more to me than you will ever know.”
"Deal." Caretaker's sleepy voice was barely more than a sigh, "And in return, I'll do the same."
#whumptober 2023#no.13#i don't feel so good#oc#whump fic#sickfic#whumpee#caretaker#mentioned whumper#falling asleep#sleeping together#just sleeping#no hanky panky#talking about mental health
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lewis tan, bisexual, cis-male & he/him → isn’t that matai huang? i’ve seen them hanging out with the were-creatures. i hear they’re thirty-four years old, but they’ve only been in alexandria for less than a week. they seem to be agile & athletic, but also impulsive & guarded. it’s cool that their animal counterpart is a cougar!
GET TO KNOW THE MUSE
Name: Matai Huang
Nickname(s): Tai, Matai "Bàozi" Huang
Age: 34
Date of Birth: May 9th
Zodiac: Taurus
Place of Birth: Washington
Race / Ethnicity: Chinese-American & White
Gender: CIS-Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic
Species: Were-Creature (Cougar/Puma/Panther/Mountain Lion - whichever you want to call it)
FAMILY
Siblings: A fraternal twin brother
APPEARANCE
Height: 6′3
Build: Athletic, Fit
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Distinguishing Features: Determination in his eyes
The Huang family name is a name that is well known among the hunter community, one that always produced strong and capable hunters that took down some of the most notorious supernaturals in the world, and with a name that held as much prestige as that, there were expectations placed upon Matai and his fraternal twin. Training from a young age on how to wield various weapons, Matai finding himself preferring either a bow or a knife, and the various weaknesses of supernatural creatures, the twins were more than prepared enough for their first hunt - one that would take them into a vampire den that had been wrecking havoc on the human population of a small town that was in the territory that the guild the Huang’s were in protected - and they both walked away with blood on their weapons and a kill added to their chart.
It wasn’t until the following full moon that Matai and his brother learned a hard truth.
Romeo and Juliet, Jack and Rose, Gatsby and Daisy - they all had tragic love stories but none of them were quite as tragic as the star-crossed love affair between the twins’ mother - Abigail - and a member of a were-creature pride that the Huang family had been watching to ensure that nothing sinister was happening under their watch. They kept things quiet, using the were’s enhanced senses to be able to tell if someone was nearby, but eventually things slipped… Abigail became pregnant and after confessing to her father, her father - the Chief of their hunter’s guild - grew so furious that he made a kill order for the entire pride of were-creatures and with their deaths, the secret of his grandchildren’s genealogy would be left only to him and Abigail.
At least, until the first full moon after their first hunt.
Forced to chain themselves up in the basement that first full moon, both Abigail and her father watched with bated breath to see if the future of the Huang name would be tarnished. One hour into the night of the full moon, it became obvious. While his brother was mostly scared and bored, nothing was happening but for Matai? His entire body felt like it was on fire, his muscles ached and his blood was burning and eventually, a grotesque snap echoed in the basement and everything went black.
When Matai awoke, however, he was still chained up in the basement - the basement that a great many Huang’s had used to torture their charges for information before eventually killing them - but he was all alone. For over a day, or at least he assumed it was at least a day given that there hadn’t been a clock or any windows to let light in, Matai had been left alone until finally, he heard footsteps scurrying down the stairs and he looked up to see his brother who looked… torn. It was then that he learned that his grandfather had sentenced him to death and that they were going to make it look like he had lost his life on the job but Matai’s brother hadn’t agreed and, instead, he was there to free him. And after a quick and tearful goodbye, Matai left the only home he had ever known and he had to learn how to fend for himself.
Leaving the state of Washington, Matai had to learn to do something to be able to survive and, luckily, he had found that there was one thing he was great at that people often underestimated on - fighting. Settling in California, Matai began to take part in underground fighting rings throughout the state, earning a good lump sum of cash that he was able to use to be able to afford to rent out a motel room. But more importantly, it also earned him the attention of an MMA trainer. The trainer, a dragonkin that had seen the promise in the young were, had approached him and offered him with an opportunity to come fight under him and that he’d make him great. Matai, liking the idea of great, was more than quick to follow suit.
Joining the man’s gym, suited to training supernatural creatures on how to fight - and teaching weres, vampires and dragonkin how to fight humans without drawing suspicion or seriously injuring them - Matai found a sense of family with the ragtag bunch of misfits and while Matai had long decided to forget about his mother and his grandfather, he couldn’t help but always think about his brother. Still, the more that he fought, the more that he was seeing the name Huang being talked about on the message boards as he became more and more of a Middleweight fighter that people wanted to see. And, after several years of self-loathing over his status as a were-creature, he decided that the best moniker for him to use? It was Matai “Bàozi” Huang - a way to find a sense of pride in who he was while also spitting at his grandfather’s legacy all at the same time.
Now, fresh off his third Middleweight championship, Matai has decided to head to Alexandria to see what all the fuss was about. Hearing talk about the place from both his coach and some of his fellow fighters, he figured that it might be a good place to take some time off and relax. And if he needed to somehow keep in shape and keep his moves from getting rusty? Well, he was sure there’d always be a dragonkin or a were-creature down to wrestle.
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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: R for language and smut.
Words: ~3100 words.
Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.
Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
gif credit: @benbarnxs
Part 16
You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.
As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-
“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”
Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.
***
It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.
“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”
“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”
“And Adam’s body-”
“Will be disposed of.”
“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”
“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”
With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.
“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”
His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”
“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”
“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”
He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.
He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”
You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”
Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”
“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”
“I always am around you.”
His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”
“Shut up.”
Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”
Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.
You smiled. “It is my apartment.”
He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.
Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.
Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.
You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.
An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.
You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.
“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”
“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.
Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.
Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”
He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”
“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”
“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”
You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”
“Can’t really do that.”
“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”
“I’ve had a rough week.”
You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.
”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.
“Move in with me.”
Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.
“That’s not funny, Billy.”
Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”
“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”
“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”
“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”
“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”
“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”
“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”
“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”
You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”
You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”
“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”
You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.
You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”
You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.
***
Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.
After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”
You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.
“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”
“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”
“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”
“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”
He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.
You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”
Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”
“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”
He nodded his head. “I won’t.”
“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”
“I need to kill that voice.”
You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”
“It took you that long to believe it?”
You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”
He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”
“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.
He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“
“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”
“Not once have I lectured you naked.”
He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.
A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.
He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”
The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.
Part 17
A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)
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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 — mason mount
summary: after an argument ensues between the two of you, you’d decided to go for a drive. only for it to end worse than expected for the both of you.
warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of a car accident, mentions of blood and cuts
notes: requests are open
“I’m not ready to lose you.” + “Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”
“Maybe you aren’t understanding,” you sighed, tired of the argument you and Mason were currently having, “I live with you, for fuck’s sake. I see you every night and every morning, so on my only day off, I want to see my family. We visit your family all the time, what about mine?”
Mason was tugging at his hair in stress, trying his hardest to keep his cool. It started when you’d gotten home late, after a nice day out with your mum and sisters, Mason sitting on the couch in complete silence. His argument was that you barely spent time together, especially since your careers kept you busy all the time. Your argument was that you see him during the day, whereas you don’t even speak to your parents for more than a minute on the phone. You understood his argument completely, you wanted to spend time with him, but he was dismissing your argument entirely.
“I rarely get time to spend with you, so when I actually get home from training early, you’re out all day with not even a note to tell me you’d gone.” Mason whined, following you into the kitchen as you left the living room. You both hated arguments, especially shouting, it wasn’t you at all. And usually your arguments were solved with just quiet talking, and a compromise. But tonight was something else.
“I don’t get that much time off.” You stated, making yourself comfortable on the island stool. You’d hoped Mason would just drop it, or at least see where you’re coming from. “If I knew you’d be finishing early, I would have offered you to come with me. But I didn’t know, Mase. I’m tired of this now.”
“You don’t think I’m tired of this?” Mason’s voice was gradually getting louder, and you squeezed your hands together to keep calm. “I’m tired of only seeing you when you’re sleeping, or half asleep as you walk through the door. I just want you, Y/N. We don’t even have sex anymore.”
“It’s not about sex, Mason. Not to me, anyway.” He was pulling every string and managed to get on every single one of your nerves, it was almost as if he were waiting for you to snap at him.
“Don’t try and spin this, I never said it was about sex. It’s just one of the many things we used to do, and don’t do anymore.” He’d shouted at you, his tone making it out to be your fault. You were the reason you didn’t have sex anymore, you were the reason you barely see each other any more.
“You can’t even have sex leading up to a match,” you reminded him, stopping at the stairs as you pulled your shoes back on. They’d only been off for twenty minutes, your bag still on your shoulder. “God, I’ve met rocks smarter than you,” you mumbled, reaching for the door handle.
“Oh, fuck off Y/N. Why don’t you go and sleep at your family’s house if you want to see them so much?” He shouted back at you, walking to the kitchen and away from you. You’d made a habit of slamming the door after you, stomping over to your car and starting it up. Another thing you’d always done during your arguments, was wait until you were away from Mason to cry.
You’d left the driveway, tears falling from your eyes as you left Mason in your house alone. He was sat against the kitchen island in defeat, head in his hands and beginning to regret saying what he said. He didn’t want you to go to your family’s home and sleep there, he wanted you in his bed. Close to him. That’s all he wanted.
You’d taken a hand from the wheel to wipe the tears from your eyes, no doubt ruining your makeup in the process, and as another had fallen, you squeezed your eyes to push them all out. In the split second your eyes were closed, you’d heard a large horn and felt your body jolt to the side, hitting your head on your window. All you could manage to do was grab your phone and see a bunch of texts, vision blurred so you couldn’t see who they were from.
Whoever it was, you’d texted: ‘hel p.’ Before letting the darkness, that was pushing your eyelids down, consume you.
Mason had received your text and almost threw up with worry. He clenched his teeth tightly together as he threw on his shoes, running out to his car and taking the route you always took to your parents. He knew you avoided motorways whenever you could, and he finally saw your car, both sides battered completely. He could barely breathe as he leapt out of his car, leaving the door wide open and going to check on you.
Your head was rested against the cracked window, he could see small shards impaling the skin of your face. His eyes were bleeding tears at this point, yanking on the doors but they wouldn’t open. Finally, your door had been forced open by his hands and he held you tight. He could feel your breath on his arm, so he knew not to assume the worst. His tears were landing on your hair, creating a small wet patch on your hairline.
“Wake up, please don’t do this to me.” He whimpered, holding you tighter to his chest as if it were doing something, “I’m not ready to lose you.” Your body felt limp, lifeless even, it was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. His chest ached with the sobs leaving him, wanting to curl up with you in bed. With you alive and well.
Finally, after holding you close to him, he’d called an ambulance. His voice shaking as he named the road and gave them your details. If he’d just listened to you, you wouldn’t be here right now, completely knocked out and in pain. He’d taken you from the car and carried you in his arms to his own. The sirens were rapidly approaching, his tears still falling from his eyes when they took you. He didn’t want to leave you, but he’d followed the ambulance to the hospital.
For hours he waited, eyes hopeful as a doctor left your room, but they’d walked the opposite way. The last he’d heard was that you were being taken into surgery, to remove the glass shards and stitch up the wounds on your head. He was advised to go home, grab you a change of clothes and get some sleep. But he refused. He wasn’t leaving this hospital until you were out with him. He wasn’t leaving until you knew how sorry he was for what he’d done.
He wept into his hands silently in the corner of the waiting room, lifting his hood up to avoid anyone who might know who he was. He’d contacted your family, telling them you’d been in an accident and that you were awaiting surgery. Of course they’d told Mason to keep them updated, wishing him and you well. He was shaking the entirety of the time he waited for you, finally a nurse coming up to him as he’d closed his eyes for a short while. It was almost 11 now, forgetting you’d gotten home late that night.
“She’s out of surgery,” the nurse confirmed, Mason’s heart beating faster for you, “she’s being transferred to a private room, and you’ll be able to see her there. We will have to keep her overnight, and we don’t allow visitors during the night. But visiting hours open at 6 tomorrow morning. Mason just nodded, he’d do whatever to see you again.
After an hour of waiting, he was finally allowed into your room. You were still groggy but upon seeing Mason’s face, all was forgotten. Grateful was an understatement, you’d been lucky enough to see Mason again. He sat down beside you, hand slipping through the wires and into your own, squeezing it gently.
“Hello, bubs.” He whispered, afraid of his voice breaking from the tears that had started back up again. You smiled weakly at him, biting you lip to contain your smile. “How you feeling?”
“Like death, if I’m honest.”
“You still look gorgeous even after being in a car wreck.” Mason admitted, brushing the hairs away from your eyes. The tiny cuts and stitches were dotted around your face, but your eyes still gleamed hopefully. Like they did when you first met.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m sorry.” You cried, trying to turn away from Mason but it hurt to do so. Your whole body ached from being slammed into so hard.
“There’s not a thing to be sorry for, bubs.” Mason assured you, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears away, “forget about the argument. Spend as much time as you want with your family, I don’t care. I’m just glad to still have you.”
“I should spend more time with you,” you mumbled into his hand, kissing his palm softly, “I’m sorry for not being around much. We need to make time for each other.” Mason just nodded, so full of joy to have you back with him.
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Warnings: mentions of death and blood. Very angst. No happy ending.
part of my works for one-shots in
“Living In The Lyrics”
Arcade
Song - ‘Arcade’ by Duncan Laurence
Battinson x reader (events after the Riddler.)
A broken heart is all that’s left
I’m still fixing all the cracks
Lost a couple of pieces when
I carried it, carried it, carried it home
I’m afraid of what I am
My mind feels like a foreign land
Silence ringing inside my head
Please carry me, carry me, carry me home
I’ve spent all of the love I’ve saved
We were always a losing game
Small town boy in a big arcade
I got addicted to a losing game
Present time
While walking home Bruce Wayne’s coat was drenched in the rain that poured over him and blended with his falling tears. His hair was tousled as the wind carried him with each slow step he took, the thunder roared above him taking place of the broken sobs that left his lips. He knew that falling in love was the worst he could of ever done, but now it was all gone. Every second he spent with the love of his life now all felt like a waste. His heart felt ripped apart and each breath he took burned his aching chest. Bruce never thought he’d feel this kind of pain, the kind of pain that you’d kill for to take away. The poring rain and loud thunder around him was all not heard by him, his mind.. was too distraught and done with to even notice the storm that was above and around him. All because his broken soul fell in love, he fell in love with someone that was a panacea to him, who loved him despite his darkness and flaws, she danced around everyone of them, calling his heart her seraglio.
Past time
6 months ago Bruce Wayne found whom he thought was the love of his life, a ballerina named Y/n Y/l/n. Alfred has pushed Bruce to go out and make an appearance, and get out a little bit to clear his head. Bruce stumbled upon a ballet that was taking place at the OGC, after paying for his ticket he took a seat almost near the front, he didn’t want to be seen and given attention, but that was all that was left. He watched a couple of plays and ballets and wasn’t amused, the dancers and other ballerinas seemed to be fake and all in it for the money, slipping up here and there and not giving their all. Crowd was silent and a few gave their applauses afterwards, but when they called out Y/n’s name for her to be next, the crowd went wild. Their cheers and claps caught Bruce’s attention as he had never heard of her name, but all the others sure did. Sitting up straighter to get a better look at this ballerina he soon found what the fuss was all about once his blue orbs soon caught her glorious figure, in that second he knew he was gone for.. she stole his heart, despite everything that screamed in him to not let it go.
Oh
Oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game.
She looked so ethereal, her eyes beamed brightly under her long lashes, her hair was so perfectly done he couldn’t find flaw, the dress embraced her body like if they were meant for each other, her ballet shoes were a shade of red and the straps came up her legs elegantly. Bruce was caught in a cynosure he didn’t realize the orchestra was playing until he saw her make her first move. As soon as the live orchestra’s music hit his now attentive ears, he recognized it as The Nutcracker. A few times in the past when he was a little boy, Bruce saw a couple of ballets of that specific choreography with his mother, and to him they weren’t well performed. His mother agreed on his judgment, now he believed it would be the same as he watched Y/n perform, but he was so wrong. Y/n was lissome and and lithe, although her choreography was arduous, she always made each step look lilt and spotless. Her smile showed an ebullience Bruce had never seen before, causing a spark to be born in his heart, it felt like a warmth with a mixture of butterflies. Her play seemed ephemeral when the crowd was soon standing on their feet and cheering loudly, Bruce soon forgot he demure he was when he too stood up and clapped for her. He watched as a plethora of roses came all towards her as she bowed and gave a simple ripple. In that second as she stood back up, her eyes locked with his, and for her, it felt like if the whole world went silent. She had always had a secret crush on Gotham’s Prince, and to see him there, only a few feet away from her, made her heart gambol as she sent him her effervescent smile. The simple gesture she gave was the beginning to a journey Bruce wished was sempiternal.
How many pennies in the slot
Giving us up, didn’t take a lot
I saw the end ‘fore it begun
Still I carried, I carried, I carried it on
Present time
As he cried to himself he thought about the days he had with her. Bruce knew that letting in this precious gem of a person would soon ruin him, but he didn’t care. His heart craved someone’s loving touch and understanding. He needed someone to hear his secrets and horrors, and she was the one for it all. After two months of dating her she came to find out he was the Batman, but doing the total opposite of what Bruce thought she would do, she promised her loyalty and support, and her actions showed it. Every time he watched her dance or sleep in his arms a part of his mind would scold him for carrying on with a relationship he knew deep down could either ruin him or her, or the both of them. But he loved her deeply and she did to him too. Every night she danced she thought of him when he couldn’t be there because the city called for him. But she knew that she was in his heart, as he was in hers. Bruce knee that Y/n knew deep down that her relationship with him could end up in a disaster, because of his life as the Batman and the dangers that came with it, but she didn’t care, her soft spot and undeniable love for him burned brighter and was more mad for him than any other reason that came into her mind.
Oh
Oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game
Past time
5 months into their relationship the Joker came into the picture, and began to haunt the Batman down with his tricks and games. Bruce had told her to leave him because of the risks it cost, the Joker knew who the Batman really was and was on a mission to hurt and take everyone and everything away from him, but she never left, she stayed put and received him into her arms every time he came back to her. She took his stress and fears when she would practice her recitals in front of him, sometimes letting him join as she eased his loud haunting thoughts. Y/n had a big ballet coming up and was working restlessly to get it perfect. As Bruce would be up at the cave going through his lens to write down his nightly activities she would dance there in the cave with him silently, but her presence let him know that she was there for him either way, wether she was busy or not. But neither of them knew what lied ahead for either of them on that grand day. Thinking that the Joker was long gone after Bruce had defeated him, Bruce decided he could go to see her ballet and be her greatest supporter.. little did he know, that the Joker wasn’t done just yet.
Oh
Oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game
I don’t need you games game over
Get me off this roller coaster
Present time
Bruce was walking home because he had witnessed the death of his treasured gem, breath, and love, now his mind going over one of the greatest tragedies of his life. He had drunk over 2 bottles of vodka and refused to drive in his state. But even when he thought the liquor would take away his thoughts and breaking heart, it only made his memory more vivid and haunting as it replayed and replayed.
Oh
Oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game
Two hours before
The ruby curtains draped above the stage gloriously as Bruce believed that Y/n was waiting behind them thinking of him, he never told her that he would be there for her big day, he wanted it to be a surprise for her. He had told her earlier that he would be out doing his thing in the city, she said she understood and kissed him goodbye, but though she had promised him that it was ok, he could see the sadness that lingered in the back of her smile and eyes, and Bruce knew he’d regret not going, so as soon as she left, he came back to the cave and changed into his best tux for her. He put aside his hate for attention and paparazzi as he decided bravely that he’d sit in the front seat. The whole city of Gotham knew about their relationship, but he could care less about the outdoor attention, he only cared about his love, Y/n. He waited desperately for it all to soon begin, he really wanted to surprise her and see her amused smile that always brought out the best in him. But he was the one surprised in the end, for when the curtains finally opened, she was lying on the floor, covered in red as she laid over a pool of her own blood. The crowd began to scream and cry as Bruce jumped on the stage to aid her, but his heart dropped as it struck painfully in his chest, when he saw blood smeared across her loving and once delicate face in the shape of a large smile over her lips. Her eyes were lifeless and her body now limp in his arms as he held her against his chest. Bruce knew the Joker wasn’t done, but he didn’t know that it would go that far. The police separated him from her and told him to take shelter. But he refused and told them to leave him alone. After struggling with them for a few minutes Jim Gordon was able to pull him away from her body and led him outside.
They offered to escort him home but he refuse again, stumbling into an old bar he gave the bar tender $300 cash and asked for their strongest drink. Stumbling out of the bar after having two large bottles he carried his third one. Chugging down the last drop he tossed it away from him as the rain began to pour heavily.
Present time
Bruce finally made it home, and walked up the steps of the Manor one by one, Alfred opened the door as soon as Bruce reached it. Bruce looked up and a big part of his shattered heart hoped it was Y/n waking him up from a dream and bringing him into her loving arms. But reality reminded him that it was all lost. Alfred took in Bruces’ broken appearance, he was drunk, his hair was disheveled, his once white shirt was covered in red, and he looked miserable. Bringing him inside Alfred was about to tell Bruce to go lie down or shower, but instead Bruce ran towards the Batcave and got suited up, he had business to finish.. something he would make sure never came back into his life, maybe loving was a losing game.. but he sure knew, that craving vengeance for Y/n’s unrighteous death wasn’t.
All I know... all I know
That loving you... is a losing game
#battinson#the batman 2022#batman#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#the batman#battinson x reader#battinson x y/n#robert pattinson#battinson x you#battinson fanfiction#batman x reader#dc batman#batman angst#battinson angst#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne angst#arcade#batman 2022#the batman 2022 fic
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Day 6: Hand Kink
Day 6 of Kinktober! Already almost a week in, huh… I figured I’d dip into the rich Japanese side of mythology this time. I hope this is an acceptable tribute… Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.
Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content ONLY. Trigger warnings for violence mentioned including physical assault, some family abuse dynamics, implied sexual assault (does not actually happen), and mild descriptions of death. Also sexual content including soft dom themes, PinV unprotected sex, entirely consensual.
Tags: Beast Youkai x reader, fox spirit x reader, exophilia, terato
Small Sun Showers
“It’s such a small thing, really.”
You slid the bag you’d brought into the hollow of the old tree. Avoiding the ropes strung around, you carefully sat on the rock next to the tree.
“I brought you some sweet buns, this time, with poppy seeds,” you said, ignoring the comment that had come from the dark hollow. “Since you said you missed some of the herbs.”
The sound of crinkling came from the hole, followed by the sounds of munching. “Attentive to me, as always, sweet one,” the disembodied voice cooed, though a moment later burning orange eyes stared at you from the darkness.
You studiously avoided the gaze, looking down at the grass under your feet. A sliver of shadow from the abandoned warehouse nearby fell over you, giving you some shade from the warm sun. As always, you didn’t respond to the epithets. You never did.
“How is the temple doing?” The voice asked.
“It’s fine,” you answered, almost automatically. “The festival is coming up soon, so everyone is excited.”
“And yet you do not, hmm?” The eyes tilted, as though the head had cocked at her curiously.
Your eyes slid away, more towards the forest beyond the tree. Unconsciously, your fingers tugged at the long sleeves you wore, despite the warm weather.
“I’m a little nervous,” you admitted. “As a Shrine Maiden, I’m supposed to be doing the Miko Kagura. I’ve been practicing, but…”
“You wear long sleeves again.” A hint of suspicion crept into the voice.
Despite yourself, you flinched. “I— I’m just-“
A low growl issued from the tree. “A spirit has been harassing you again, hasn’t it. Why haven’t you called an exorcist? Or told your Father, the Priest?”
You turned your head away. “It’s been contracted by someone else,” you admitted, voice thin. “I… can’t tell Papa.”
A pause. “Because it was bought at a high price.” A sneer laced the voice. “Then how do you plan to get rid of it? You can’t hold it off forever yourself. And it’s already injured you, hasn’t it.”
You shook your head. “I’ll find out a way. I can’t bother anyone else with it.” Your eyes slid closed, the bruises mottled up your arm throbbing.
“Or you could create a contract with something far more powerful,” came the slick purr. “If you’d only break the talisman, I would make a contract with you, sweet one.” The sealed beast offered, for not the first time.
“You are a beast youkai,” you answered, voice steady. “It is against your nature to bind yourself to anyone, much less become the guardian spirit of a small temple.” You reminded both him and yourself.
“Unless we have reason. Even the mightiest of beasts might be swayed by beauty such as yours.”
A bitter smile twisted your lips as you turned your face away. You? As if. The beast youkai only even spoke to you because you gave it food and paid attention to it out of your own loneliness, not because it somehow cared about you. You couldn’t bring yourself to really believe that.
With a soft sigh, you plucked at your sleeves. “What do you want me to bring you next time?”
But the voice stayed quiet for a moment. When it spoke again, something in its voice had changed. “Do you truly not believe me? I do not lie when I say that I would bind myself to you. I would never let you be injured. I would protect you, like your family cannot. I would hold you close,” the voice said, a dreamy tone in its voice, “and I would shower you with everything you deserve.”
You fought the tears that welled in your eyes as you abruptly stood, grabbing your bag. “If you don’t have any requests, I’ll just bring anything,” you interrupted, struggling to make sure your voice didn’t waver.
A sigh, so soft that you wondered if it were only the wind. “A meat bun.”
You nodded, then headed back down the hillside towards home. Reaching up, you angrily smeared your tears from your cheeks, breath hitching on your sobs.
You could never allow yourself to believe the words of a youkai, much less a powerful and dangerous one like him. No matter how sweet his words, how genuine they sounded… Everyone always lied to you. He would be no exception.
You tried to ignore the little part of you that wondered if maybe, just maybe, dying at the hands of the youkai would be better than continuing the misery of your life.
~
“Fouuuund youuuu.” A yawning mouth sprang from the darkness, black eyes fixed with crazed bloodlust on your body.
You dropped to the floor, scrambling across the hardwood to slide towards the doorway. Leaping back up, you ran for your life. Your breaths came fast and shallow as you blindly ran, tripping through the dark halls of the temple. Behind you, you could hear cackling laughter as its talons scrabbled after you.
You reached out your hand, then burst though the main doors, stumbling across the stones out front. Looking up, you froze.
An entire group of men stood in front of you, all staring at you with leering, jeering faces. The one in the front, the one your brain automatically assumed was the leader, stepped forwards.
“Well, well. Would you look at that.” He grinned, his eyes sliding over your shoulder.
Something grabbed your arm, wrenching you back. You stifled a cry, sinking your teeth into your lip as claws brutally dug into the bruises already all up your arm. The spirit held you, its tight grip almost unbearable.
“I guess the boy must really hate his family, huh?” the man sneered, hands in his pockets as he stared at you down his nose. Reaching out with his foot, he kicked at you like some sort of trash. “To think that he’d offer his own younger sister in exchange for his debts.”
Your heart sank. Of course. Your brother who had gotten into debt with the yakuza. Of course he’d offer you: the only girl, the precious little shrine maiden.
Sadly enough, it didn’t even surprise you. But at least now you figured out why the spirit had haunted you in particular so insistently, and how much trouble you were in. Which, you snorted bitterly to yourself, was a lot. Probably at risk of your life, at best.
A wild thought flashed through your head, desperate but somehow… insistent. Your eyes briefly scanned the crowd of men. You were smaller than most of them, and probably in better shape at this point. If you managed to get a brief head start, you weren’t too far away— enough to maybe be able to get there just fast enough. But you’d have to immobilize the spirit first, at least temporarily.
Thickly, you swallowed, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply. You had enough. Just enough for one— Your other hand landed on the spirit’s as your eyes flew open. The spirit let out a piercing shriek, letting go of you as the searing spiritual energy burst through your palm. You didn’t hesitate.
Breaking into a dead sprint, you headed straight for the hill behind the temple. Behind you, you could hear the angry shouts of the men as they started after you. You pushed yourself, ignoring it, taking as many shortcuts as you could, heart pounding in your ears as you gasped for air. Your legs were starting to ache, and you could hear them gaining on you; but the warehouse was in sight.
Skidding around the corner, you ran straight for the tree. Your hand reached for the talisman.
When the yakuza men caught up to you, they found you kneeling at the base of the tree, a shattered seal at your feet.
Tears streaked down your cheeks as you whispered into the hollow. “Please… if you help me, just this once… I’ll give you myself in exchange,” you promised weakly.
“It’s too late now, little girl,” the boss sneered, starting to step towards you. “You’re coming with us.”
But before he could say anything more or another move was made, a dark mist began to swirl around the area. Shouts of confusion arose as the mist covered everything, too dark to see through, almost too dark to even move in safely. A low, grating laugh spilled from the darkness, just as you felt yourself being lifted up.
Startled, you gasped softly and clung to the solidity you could feel under your fingers. Lips parted, you stared at the familiar orange eyes that slowly materialized in front of you. A wide, fanged grin split the darkness underneath the eyes; and slowly, a body started to emerge from the swirling dark mist.
“Well hello there, my sweet one,” the familiar voice cooed. Long, pitch black hair tied in a low ponytail framed a pale face. The beast youkai, one that you now recognized as a Fox, held you effortlessly in one arm, pulling you close to his chest. He towered above the ground, dwarfing you in every way possible. His entire hand curled around almost your entire thigh.
You swallowed. “H-hello,” you whispered tremulously, not even sure what to think at this point.
“You released me,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on you. He leaned forward, and his nose brushed against your cheek as a soft purr rumbled through his chest, reverberating down into you.
Your fingers clenched in his robe, surprise flittering through you that he wasn’t… leaving. Or killing you.
“My brave darling,” the youkai fairly gushed, nosing against you. “Now I can finally fulfill my promise to you.”
“Promise?” you repeated dumbly, mind whirling. What-?
He chuckled. “I told you, didn’t I? That I would contract with you, if you set me free. Protect you, cherish you as you should be.”
He’d actually meant it? What?
“I…” You stared up at his orange eyes, fixed on you intensely. Your breath stuck in your throat as the familiar ache of longing overcame you. Reminded you of your stupidity, falling in love with the beast youkai that you thought would never even glance at you if he were free.
“Of course I’ll do anything for you,” he purred, his tongue flicking out to briefly lick away the tear-streak on your cheek. “As if I would deny you when you offer me the one thing I truly desire more than anything else.” He grinned, eyes sparking. “You.”
And then his fingers tilted your chin up, and your eyes squeezed shut as his lips landed on yours. The kiss was warm and soft, surprisingly so. You could feel your spiritual energy gravitating towards him, could feel it wrapping around him, infusing him, as he made a contract binding him to you and your spiritual energy. He reluctantly let go of your lips, the dizzying kiss making your head spin as you gasped for breath.
“My name is Kaz, sweet one,” he murmured, orange eyes half-lidded in simmering contentment.
Unthinkingly, you repeated the name. “Kaz…”
His eyes glowed. “Now then. Why don’t we start with these filth?”
In the next moment, the mist cleared to reveal that everyone now stood in the empty warehouse. Kaz still held you in his arm, keeping you close against his chest as he stared at the yakuza men starting to reorient themselves.
The boss cursed, glaring at you and Kaz. “Hand her over,” he spat, bristling. “She’s ours.”
But Kaz only laughed, his teeth baring as feral glee glittered in his eyes. “Give you my precious shrine maiden?” he cackled. “Didn’t you ever consider the fact that she is in fact a shrine maiden at a temple, with her own powerful spiritual energy? Enough to make a contract with a powerful beast like me?” He licked his lips. “And your blood… smells wonderful.”
Some of the men started to look wary, clearly leery about the sheer size of Kaz, especially in comparison with you.
Kaz tilted his head toward you, just as he flicked his fingers. A soft sort of puffy cloud materialized beside him, and he gently set you on it. “Stay here while I get rid of these nuisances,” he said gently, his fingers brushing across your cheek. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” With one last sickeningly sweet smile, he turned towards the men. A sword materialized in his hand, practically the size of your entire body.
You looked away, bile rising in your throat. The blood drained from your face as you heard the men screaming, the sound of the carnage making you reach up to clap your hands over your ears. Though you were sure the men were far from innocent or deserving of mercy, the brutality of their deaths was undeniable. A high-pitched, inhuman shriek indicated that the spirit they’d contracted had also been shredded by Kaz.
It made you wonder. How powerful was Kaz, exactly-?
After another moment, you felt Kaz lift you up again in his arm. Eyes flying open, you grasped at his shoulders as he pulled you close against himself again. His other blood-spattered hand still held his sword, but his eyes were adoringly fixed on you.
Reaching up, you absently wiped away a tiny drop of blood off of his jaw. “Thank you,” you whispered. Despite yourself… you felt safe.
His eyes visibly lit up, and his grin widened as he gazed up at you. “Ah, my darling praises me!” You could swear his eyes had hearts in them. “Do I get a kiss?” His grin turned teasing.
You swallowed thickly. “I… I promised you myself if you helped me,” you said weakly. “It’s all I can really give you… besides my spiritual energy—“
Kaz leaned forwards, his face so close that you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “Be my bride,” he whispered, his voice a heady murmur.
You breath hitched. “K-Kaz?” Had you… heard him right-?
“You offered me yourself, darling,” he purred. “So, be my bride. I am contracted to you, aren’t I? So I will be an impertinent beast and ask the shrine maiden to be my bride without shame.”
You closed your eyes. “Okay,” you whispered.
He paused, as though he himself didn’t believe you’d agreed.
Because you both knew that as a youkai contracted to someone with spiritual energy, you had the power to entirely command him to do anything… and deny him anything. Yet here you were, agreeing to be his bride.
“Okay, Kaz,” you repeated, not meeting his eyes. You could feel the color splash across your face.
But in all honesty, it wasn’t as though you really had many other options. Kaz could promise you some sort of safety even against your own family, and his power was certainly enough to protect you against other youkai. It had taken one of the highest-complexity talismans to even seal him away in the first place, and you could already feel through the contract how powerful he was.
The idea of being his bride… wasn’t really disagreeable.
“Darling,” Kaz breathed. His lips gently slid against yours, the touch soothing and almost… grounding. “I’ll be a most devoted husband, I promise,” he murmured.
You closed your eyes and decided that you would try to believe.
The talisman had been such a small thing, really.
~
You smiled as you walked down the street, stretching your hand out to gather the raindrops that pattered down and pooled in your palm. The weather had been beautiful, but despite the warm sunshine and hardly a cloud being in the sky, it had still decided to rain.
Pausing in the middle of the empty sidewalk, you lifted your face and let the raindrops splash against your face in a cooling shower. You loved the rain, the way it seemed to wash away all your heavy worries and soothe the ragged edge in your soul.
A shadow fell over you, and you opened your eyes to see Kaz standing above you, smiling down at you. He leaned down and swept you up into his arm, one hand holding your thigh while the other wrapped around your waist. A startled laugh fell from your lips as you held onto his shoulders.
“Is my darling enjoying the fox wedding?” he cooed.
You flushed, just then realizing the common name for the burst of cloudless rain. You gave him a shy smile, then nodded.
He chuckled. “Should we celebrate, sweet one? I can give you a gift, if you like.” Between one breath and another, he’d shifted you both somewhere else.
You gasped, eyes widening as you saw that you were floating on a soft, wispy cloud, now deep in the forest on the outskirts of town. A place no other people were, where the rain pattered softly against the leaves of the trees and dripped to the undisturbed grasses below. Flowers bloomed beneath your cloudy carpet ride, and you leaned over to brush your fingers through the colorful blooms.
The cloud rose a little, coming to a stop and floating peacefully. Kaz pulled you into his lap, his hands wrapping around your entire waist. He smiled, watching your expressions as you looked around in delight.
“And what do you think of your wedding veil, my darling bride?” Kaz murmured, leaning down to brush his nose against your hair.
You looked down at the long, wispy cloud under you, and smiled. “It’s pretty. Thank you, Kaz.” You tilted your head back to smile at him.
His orange eyes flared, and he caught your lips in a burning kiss that seared through you like foxfire. Letting out a surprised squeak, you grasped his robe, fingers tangling in it for support as he pulled you closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Your head spun as your eyes fluttered closed.
When he finally parted, you gasped a little for air, blinking dazedly. His hand gently slid up your waist and side, sliding to your back, pulling you flush against him. He pressed another kiss to your lips. You realized, with a burst of embarrassment, that the rain had entirely soaked your shirt, plastering it to your body and leaving rather little to the imagination.
“Darling, my darling,” Kaz murmured against your lips, “won’t you let me touch you?” His hands slid down your body, fingers caressing you sensually.
You bit your lip, heat staining your face. It wasn’t fair. He knew your weakness for his hands. His large, strong hands that held you close, admired your body with touch. His calloused, capable hands that protected you, defended you, worked for you.
You nodded shyly, peeking up at him. Your lips parted in a gasp as his hands slid under your shirt, starting to map out your skin. His tongue slid against yours in a soft kiss, almost distracting you from how his hands deftly explored your body.
It almost startled you when your back landed against the cloud, Kaz hovering above you with his hands wrapped around your waist. His robe slipped open, sliding down his shoulders as he observed you with burning eyes.
“So beautiful, darling,” he purred, his hands trailing down to your pants. “Can I touch? Please?”
Shyly, you nodded, one hand over your mouth as you let out a quiet whimper, chest heaving with breath. Kaz’s hands were so broad, so warm… handled you with such a reverent sort of gentility and softness that you couldn’t help but bask in it, melt into it.
A steady purr rumbled through his chest as he kissed his way down your jaw and neck, fingers sliding into your pants and underwear to pull them off. Sliding his hands under you, he pulled your body up against him, lips sliding across yours.
Your hands braced you against his chest as you gasped, feeling his cock land heavily against your stomach. It throbbed against you, but he quickly distracted you as one hand slid into your hair, pulling your head back. He pressed a kiss to your lips, his mouth hot against your skin.
“So tiny and sweet,” Kaz mumbled against your neck, his voice half-drunk. His fingers slid across your thigh wrapped around his waist, and he lowered his hips, pushing you into the plush softness of the cloud. Your mind started to fuzz, entirely focused on the way his hands grasped at you, somehow greedy and gentle all at once, and the way he handled you with that deft confidence yet tender infatuation.
“Kaz,” the moan left your lips before you could quite help it, your entire body humming at every brush of his fingers.
His answering hum was low and amused as he started to gently slide into you, making you gasp and arch. His cock slid into you without resistance. You’d gotten so wet just thanks to his soft touches and gentle attention. He murmured your name against your lips as he slid wholly into you, seating himself inside with a heavy breath.
You whimpered, biting your lip as you tried to somehow ground yourself. Everything had started to go fuzzy, especially as his hands wrapped entirely around your hips and pulled you down onto his cock, his grasp iron as he ground up into you.
His pace, once he started thrusting, stayed steady and almost agonizingly slow. But when you whined, he chuckled and slid his fingers between your lips instead. You let his lithe fingers gently play with your tongue, while his other hand kept you anchored to him.
You could feel the coil inside you steadily growing, getting tighter, closer to the edge. Everything felt so hazy and light, like the solidity of his body was the only real thing, the only think that mattered. Like his hands were the only things that kept you grounded, held you down, safe from drifting away.
“K-Kaz.” Your teary eyelids opened to gaze up at his face.
“Does this please you, my darling?” Kaz murmured, sliding his fingers out of your mouth and down to press against your clit.
“I— I love you.” Your fingers curled against his chest.
His orange eyes widened, then flooded with that pure, infatuated adoration. “I love you, my sweet darling,” he purred, kissing you. “And I am so entirely yours.”
The coil in your stomach snapped, your orgasm washing over you with a force that left you lightheaded and dizzy. The pleasure suffused your entire body until you were gasping, tears streaking down your cheeks as you whimpered.
You finally floated down from your high to the feeling of Kaz’s hands sweeping over you. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin. He pulsed inside you, but still kept his pace slow and steady as he fucked you through the aftershocks.
Wrapping your hands around his neck, you nestled your head into the crook of his neck. His hands clenched around your hips, and he let out a groan as he rested his head beside yours. You could tell that he was so close, his hips starting to stutter.
“You feel so lovely, so warm and tight and soft, darling,” Kaz groaned. “Please, can I—“
“It’s okay, Kaz,” you reassured sweetly, voice shy. “You can.”
He jerked one more time, sinking into you with a low groan. His entire body shuddered as he came, pouring into you as he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave fingerprints. For once, you didn’t mind the bruises.
Pulling back, he caught your lips in a deep kiss, mouth slanting over yours. He poured the love, the gratitude, the adoration between your lips until you felt as though you could drown in it.
“I will always protect you,” he promised against your lips.
And for once, you believed the promise.
It was such a small thing, really.
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