#Which can be done after I have slept on it surely.
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v--143 · 2 days ago
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OH boy do I have a story for you guys hhehehehehehe
Boyfriend slept over in my dorm again and gaahhhhh okay I think he fully knows I love tickles but not in THAT way like I think he just thinks I think they’re fun, which that is the case.. but he doesn’t know I’m literally obsessed with it 💀💀 ANYWAYS
He’s started to do this thing where he’ll sing a song, either a Halloween one or a Christmas one, whenever he’s about to start tickling me. So I’m like NOOOOOO and he just keeps singing and starts doing the claw hands AAHHHHH
And he found out last night that my ribs like riiiight under my boobs (? if that makes sense LMAO) are SO sensitive, like insanely ticklish. But like, a good very ticklish… like I can take it and it won’t be toooooo too much for me. So, I had a bralette and an opened zip-up jacket on, and when he found this out, he KILLED MEEEEEEEEEEESBJENDJSKSN
He was laid down on the left and me on the right (the beds are lofted up but there’s a bar to keep you from falling so I was fine to squirm and thrash). He took his right arm and grabbed both my wrists in it (he is strong as hell), and then he WRAPPED his LEGS around MINE. SO at this point my entire torso (my zip up jacket was opened, so just wearing my bralette) was COMPLETELY exposed. Obviously not my chest but all else. So I was already giggling a ton like an idiot because I was nervous and he kept repeating “say just 5 more seconds and then I’ll stop. Or 10 more. Or, yknow, if you don’t want me to stop, don’t say anything.” And then any time that I’d try to say anything, he’d tickle me HARDER and FASTER hshdejenenjend
Genuinely couldn’t move my arms or legs at ALL and he kept intertwining from vibrating and wiggling his fingers between my upper ribcage to the center of my stomach to my sides to my lower ribs to all over my chest to my neck like oh my GOD I was so done for. But I mean hey I was having the damn time of my life I’m not complaining🙂‍↕️
So I was really just laughing my entire being out. Like, I think I laughed for maybe 2-3 minutes straight, which is a lot if you really think about it! Like mf wouldn’t stop! (In his defense I never once said stop between my laughs and screams, nor did I made it known in any way that I wanted him to stop… so… YIPPEE)
His TEASES too my God his teasinggggg “you can tell me to stop, yknow” “you love this don’t you?” “you’re so ticklish oh my God” “you’re so loud!!!”
OH and when he said “you’re so loud!!” he then grabbed his hoodie that he took off and put it over my face saying “there. Chomp down on that, okay?” and then continued even HARDER as I tried to bite down on his hoodie and not be as loud (epic fail) 😭 He was smiling the entire time as all this went on too which was so cute to me like he looked like he was enjoying himself too. He called it my “torture time” which just made it all the more EEEEEEEEEE
But. Guys. This is the. Ahhhh moment for me.
Then after a while once my hair was all over my face and I was heaving like a madwoman, he was like “are you okay?” (He always asks that after he tickles me really hard or for a long amount of time💘) and I was like “uh-huh, yehehes” still giggling with a big ass smile on my face as I looked at him, and he goes, “…do you like it?”
I knew EXACTLY what he meant but my nervous ass goes “huhh?” acting like I’m too drowsy and out of it to answer the question 😭😭 and he STRAIGHT UP ASKS, “do you like being tickled??” AND I GO “w- whaatt?” still acting like I’m sleepy or some shit and then I just make some random noise GAAAHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
The thing is he is the least judgmental person I know. He’s so open and vulnerable and would not give two shits if I said yes. In all honesty.. he probably would’ve giggled and said something along the lines of, “Awww, that’s what I thought. I wanted to make sure first though. Glad I know now, I will be using this against you” 🙈 I regret changing the topic after that bc I could’ve at least been like “I meannnn I don’t mind it, it’s a nice bonding thing and it makes me happy so” UGGHHH that would’ve been such a good response. But it’s definitely gonna happen again so I’ll say it if he asks again ☺️
Anyways. Yes. Yeah. Ah. Best moment ever. Best 3 minutes ever. I had so much fun. He’s so great. I luv him
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blackwaxidol · 3 months ago
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Concepts for Ru'thûn and La'zaar's wings, both viewed from the inside.
Ru'thûn's wings are only chiropteran as far as appearances go. She folds them at her back in the same way a moth does, rather than wrapping them around her body like Oryx did.
Atrophied flight muscles make La'zaar's wings too fragile to support his armoured weight, so he'll not use them for anything more than helping him leap towards or away from a threat.
#OC: Ru'thûn#OC: La'zaar#blackwax art#For some reason Hive wings are mostly detailed on the inside... which is why La'zaar's wings are so fancy.#I'm not sure about the design on the larger wings but I only worked on them very briefly since it is so late for me.#A fun fact... that album cover* with the face used to scare the fuck out of me when I was a child.#We had it in our house and I'd always try avoiding it whenever I had to look through discs for something.#*(It was ''Worlds Collide'' but I chose this version of it—''I'm Not Jesus''—since it fit the red colours I was working with better.)#I'll probably redesign the wings a little better when it is not 3:30am. They feel crowded.#Also trying to flip the canvas upside down lags my program so I couldn't do detail even if I wanted to currently.#I think having something that scared me as a child be etched into La'zaar's wings suits him very well though...#I'll also go back and give Ru'thûn some more detail... I spent less time on her colours because I already knew what I wanted.#Addendum... the dead moth on La'zaar's page is a ''Black Witch Moth''.#I liked their wing shape. I'm not a fan of how Savathûn's wings look so I wanted something sharper.#These are only really WIPs on a surface level.. feel free to share if you'd like.#Addendum II: I think what I want to fix about La'zaar's wings is making the designs more subtle or blended in.#Which can be done after I have slept on it surely.#Not on his wings... I'd catch some kind of terrible lung disease from the shed scales...#I imagine his wings are just as powdery as moth wings.
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toytulini · 1 year ago
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give me the strength not to google covid teeth rn lest i spiral into a Health Anxiety Meltdown about it during the night
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bamfkeeper · 3 months ago
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Bamf Babies
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RQ: 'I saw that you opened your requests and could I request a dabble of the daily life of Kurt and his partner who treats his bamfs as if they're are their babies? Like she cooks for them, makes them little clothes, tucks them in, gives them names (with Kurt's approval, of course), and all that?' - @mari-thesimp
Warnings: GN reader, though the term 'mother' is used just once just as a way to describe your role. Unedited.
A/N: Umm yes??? Ugh, this was a fun little drabble. The bamfs, come on, cute little guys. I wish I had one. I'd kill for one.
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The bamfs were...a lot...when you first met them. They were like little gremlins who were constantly at full energy, scampering around and getting into things they weren't supposed to. The only time they weren't running around so much was when they finally sat to eat. Kurt noticed that they were fond of you right away, and while he has to leave for missions, he decides to leave them with you, or at least a few at a time before it gradually turned into all of them.
You became their unofficial mother. But like hell you'd deny that.
The bamfs slept with you, all curled up beside you like a litter of kittens. Their soft, velvety skin felt so warm against you, like gentle peach fuzz. Sometimes they fought to sleep the closest to you, some would cry and you'd have to reassure them.
Bamfs can be quite jealous, so you have to make sure to show equal amounts of affection and love, otherwise it can cause an unruly bamf which is never fun. As you learned how they worked, you got better at managing them all.
Each morning, you wake up and made them breakfast. Kurt is normally exhausted, so you let him sleep in. The bamfs scramble out of bed with you, eager and happy. their little chirps and chitters fill the kitchen as they gather by your feet. Some climb on the counter, trying their best to help you cook. Pancakes were their favorite, but they weren't so good at making them. They tried, but they often made a big mess with the batter. Then they fought...and an even bigger mess happens.
So you handle the mixing. You learned.
They still liked to try to help, so you let them put chocolate chips or blueberries in them if they wanted. Each pancake you poured, you held up a bamf and they sprinkled in their add-on. Each one was served and given syrup, and now you had a handful of happy, quiet bamfs. Still and busy eating their food. Their big cheeks full of sweet pancakes as they ate happily.
"Guten Morgen..." Kurt says groggily, making his presence known. He's got major bedhead, trudging over to you and rubbing his eye sleepily. You return the greeting, smiling at him as he hugs you from behind. "Any for me...?" he asks tiredly, his face nuzzles your neck.
"Of course," you chuckle lightly. The bamfs had to get their sweet tooth from somewhere, and Kurt's sweet tooth was crazy.
You make Kurt his breakfast, and pass out cut up bananas and fruits for the bamfs. Some pout, and you chuckle. "Now, you have to have something healthy too, little ones. Besides, bananas and berries are yummy." You spoke gently to them, scratching their heads as you distributed the food. They all reluctantly ate the fruit, wanting to make you happy.
After breakfast, it's bath time. You bath the bamfs twice a day, they get...dirty, very easy. Luckily all of them can fit in the bathtub, so it's not that difficult. You scrub them and wash their hair, seeing them happily splash and play in the water. Some hate the water, they are like cats, trying to get away from the tiniest of drops, but you manage. There are one or two where Kurt has to help hold them in so you can wash them. The poor bamfs cry and try their hardest to get out, but only when they're clean. You give them lots of kisses when they're done, so they feel better. The little dears eventually stop crying, but they pout and are grumpy.
You like to play with them, you go outside and play on the playgrounds with them, the bamfs love slides. They're also little spiders, crawling on every single thing they can.
"Careful!" you called, one bamf climbed on the very top of the castle and chirped victoriously. The bamf seemed so proud of itself, but like that instinct you had, the bamf slipped and slid off the castle top and down to the wooden pellets that covered the playground. It landed on its back and its little body rolled over, the force of the landing turned it onto its belly.
A soft hic and it started to cry. You rushed over, Kurt noticed and teleported beside the little bamf as it cried. Its tearful cheeks damp as it reached up to you. "Awe it's okay...I'm here baby..." you cooed, holding the darling bamf close. It was a little dirty, but otherwise okay. Nothing broken, "You're gonna have one hell of a knot on your head later, sweetheart."
The bamf cried and buried itself into you, the others were concerned and slowed their play as you comforted the hurt bamf. "He's okay, liebe...just a little hurt." Kurt reassured, but the bamf didn't want to be put down and you didn't want to let it go yet.
"I know, I know...just let me comfort him..." you whispered to Kurt, whom backed off and let you do your thing. "Shh, sh...it's alright, you slipped, that's all. You're okay, little one..." you reassured the bamf and gave it a little kiss on the head, your hand gently soothing the sore spot.
Playtime didn't last much longer, you all went inside to clean up once again, and it was dinner time. You cooked and hummed, the bamf who hurt itself didn't leave your side, crying and wanting to be held constantly. You of course held it, the poor thing kept itself buried against you. The darling had a wrap around its head where it fell and you held an ice pack to the spot when you weren't stirring dinner at the stove.
Kurt occupied the rest, they couldn't use sharp utensils, but they helped season things. When dinner was served, it was a typical mealtime, they ate happily with little complaint unless it came to brussel sprouts and broccoli. You cleaned up, and came to the den to relax for the evening and enjoy their company...and Kurt's of course.
The bamfs colored at the table, most of their drawings were messy and childlike. The injured bamf stayed close to you, laying in your lap with the ice on its head. The pitiful bamf was extremely attached to you, and would sometimes make cries to get your attention when it wanted more.
Kurt stayed close to you, sighing down at the little bamf. "He's really attached to you, schatz...all of them are. They might love you more than me," he chuckled lightly, kissing your temple. The comment and kiss made you smile lightly, your heart beating a little quicker.
"Ah well...I just try to care for them the best I can." Your thumb was gently rubbing the bamf's cheek, the little one had fallen asleep in your lap. "I think it's bedtime, the others are quite sleepy too."
The rest were slow and sluggish now, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Kurt agreed, leading them all up to your bedroom. "Alright little ones...let's get you in your jammies." you hummed, holding up little onsies you made for them. Putting clothes on them for the first time was hard, but over the months, they learned to adjust. It was like putting clothes on a cat, they acted funny at first but as you learned the sizes and where the clothes were pinching, you figured out how to make the clothes as comfortable as possible.
They all slept in bed with you, but they had their own little corner where there was a big nest they slept in too. However, you couldn't deny them if they wanted to sleep beside you, especially the hurt one. So after you changed and got ready for bed, you slipped in and they all piled in after you. The injured snuggling close, then the rest came around and settled.
Kurt was behind you, his tail wrapping around your leg. "Comfy?" he asks you softly, and you nod in return. You were exhausted. The day was long and you were ready for bed. You had a little family here, and you couldn't be happier with your life. Kurt and the bamfs were your everything, and you were theirs.
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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Dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover images from Nightcrawler #5 (2014)
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activesplooger · 3 months ago
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| 𐂂 | 𝐑𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐳𝐧 | 𝐃𝐨𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 | 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 | 𐂂 |
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: FINALLY LMFAO. sorry for the wait i got a wee bit busy and took a break so yeah! here you go. btw i suck at smut! enjoy :]
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your boyfriend enters his season! He's constantly in heat and stubbornly won't give in to his desires. As his season ends, you enter estrus, causing a hot sticky mess for the both of you!
𝐂𝐖: breeding kink behavior, possessive behavior, p in v sex, no protection, rough sex, idfk horny-ness 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,617 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!
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It was no secret that your boyfriend is in his heat season. This became apparent when you were woken by the screeching sound of antlers rutting against the bark of a tree. You look around, the bluriness of the room fading as you wake up a bit more. Lifting your hands to your face, you rub your eyes and groggily turn towards the noise. Your eyes flicker to the bayou section of Alastor's room. Immediately, your previously groggy state disappears, eyes widening at the sight before you. "KRRRRRRRRK KRRRRRRRK KRRRRK KRRR-" "Alastor!" The scraping comes to a sudden halt as you speak. Alastor still had his back facing you hunched over beside the tree, antlers just barely inches away from the torn bark. Nearly every tree in the bayou was scraped bare of its bark, how long had he been doing this for..? Realization hits you like a truck, "Ooohhhh you're in-" "Not a word. I can control it", The Deer demon curtly states, "Go back to bed." You knew he didn't mean to be dismissive, but that didn't prevent the pang of sadness that tugged your lips downward. "Aren't you gonna come back to bed?" Alastor sighs and turns to face you, his hungry eyes boaring into yours. "Go back to bed, I'll join you later.".
Without a word, you lay back down and sigh, trying to go back to sleep without the embrace of your partner. Alastor’s expression softens, he needed some time to work through his season, he never meant to distance himself in the process.
“Goodnight, darling. I love you.”.
A smile spreads across your face, those three little words were all you needed, “I love you too, sweet dreams.”
Despite what the demon said, he was anything but in control of it. Alastor desperately tried to remain celibate the next few weeks of his heat season. Which, confused you because it’s not like you hadn’t had sex before or anything. And while it happens sporadically, this seemed like a good occasion to do it. All he’d have to do to get rid of his pestering urges is to fuck you, yet he remained stubborn. What’s holding him back?
When you asked him, he rambled about something along the lines of wanting his desires to be on “his terms”. In other words, he just wanted control. You rolled your eyes at this. All this trouble because of reluctance to give in to an easy-to-fix solution? ‘Whatever, it’s just a few more weeks of this…’ you thought to yourself. He hated how much he needed release, how much he craved and yearned for it. Alastor needed to be the one to decide when and where he’d want to have sex. However, with his current irresistible urges, he needed sex everywhere, all the time. As a result of this, Alastor decided it would be best if he slept in a different room for the time being. Which, again, didn't make any sense. Why couldn't he just fuck you and get it done with? But, nooo he had to be in control 24/7, leaving you lonely in the large desolate bed. You never complained, of course, despite how much you wanted to. It was frustrating sure, but, you know what it's like to be in your season so you kept your mouth shut. It had put some strain on your relationship, however, you knew it would only make things worse if you argued with him. He's tense enough already. Besides, it's only a few months out of the year! You can argue for the rest of eternity after said period. --
As time passed, the deer’s strained behavior only worsened. His animalistic instincts were kicking in and intensified. Let’s be honest, Alastor’s hygiene wasn’t the greatest (especially when it comes to dental hygiene). But, it got exponentially worse when he started smearing mud on himself to 'enhance his scent'. You knew it was all typical heat season behavior, but still, gross.
Possessiveness was another unfortunate symptom of the season. If Alastor saw another male just simply looking at you, he’d take it as a challenge. Large black tentacles would stretch out and slam whoever you were with into the nearest wall. And while, yes, it was nice to have a protective boyfriend, it certainly wasn't nice to have a daily hospital visit and apology card to whoever Alastor felt threatened by. Luckily, the season was almost over! No more hiding from Alastor when talking to another guy and having a smelly boyfriend! Yay! Everything seemed to be clearing up on its own... that was until you entered estrus.
“No no… Nonono…”. You mutter as you pace around the room. Just as the season was about over, you just had to enter estrus. Great. Now, not only did Alastor have to suppress his urges, you did too. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t want to tempt Alastor anymore than he already was.
Facing a large full body mirror, you try to to cover up any possible signs that your in your season. Your tail lays flat against your backside, and while that wasn’t the most obvious trait, you knew Alastor would figure you out easily. Pheromones were being released in heavy doses, a scent that could attract a buck from miles away. Luckily for you, Alastor’s taking a visit to the doomsday district to “Blow off some steam.” Phew.
Frantically rummaging through the closet, you look for something, anything that could hide this for him. You didn’t really have anything large enough to hide your tail, and if you did, the imprint of your tail would stick out of the fabric from the back and make it obvious. Crap.
A spare of Alastor’s coat hangs teasingly against on the other side of your shared closet. Temptation sweeps over you, making you realize just how horny you were. Hesitant hands reach out to grab the soft fabric and lift it up to your nose. ‘Fuck… Am I a pervert? Oh well.’ you think to yourself as you inhale Alastor’s scent through the fabric. Bourbon and vanilla scent hits your nose, sending shivers down your spine.
Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. You slip your arms into the coat and walk towards the mirror. The coat perfectly hid your tail and Alastor’s lingering musk on the fabric masked the scent of your pheromones. For once in your life, being kind of a pervert paid off! __
Currently, you’re sitting at the bar nursing a drink, trying to ignore how badly you want to be fucked so hard your organs rearrange. As far as hiding your physical symptoms went, it was pretty easy. But the internal turmoil was eating you alive, and not in a sexy way. Every position, sound, scenario, and feeling was being conjured in your mind as you sit there “calmly” on the barstool. Your mind was so preoccupied that you didn’t notice Alastor approaching you.
“You know darling, if you liked my clothes so much you could’ve just said so.” The deer jests.
The sudden noise startles you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “AH!” you practically jump out of your seat before realizing it’s just Alastor, “Oh! Hello love. How was the doomsday district?” His shoulders bob up and down, a soft grin on his lips, "It was fine. Very effective. Perhaps I'll be able to join you in bed tonight.". Fuck. If he slept in your room tonight, the coat will have to come off and all will be revealed. "O-Oh! Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure y-" "Nonsense, dear!" The deer interrupted with a smile, "I've had quite enough time away. I'm sure I'll be fine for a night!" "Yes, but, honey... What if your instincts take over?". You hesitantly try to put the thought of not sleeping together in his head. Alastor waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, dear! I'll be alright." "Honey, I don't think this is a good idea-" You stated firmly. His smile strains as his eyebrows furrow, "Why? Is there something you're hiding from me?". "No I-" "Have you grown accustomed to sleeping without me?" he accused. "No, no... Al," you reluctantly begin, "I'd love to sleep beside you again... I just wanted to be sure you were okay with it.". Lies. Well, partly. You did want to cuddle with your partner just... not with the current 'circumstances'. But now you had no choice but to find some way to hide your growing urges and instincts. -- The door shuts behind you as you walk into your room. You feel your heartbeat pick up as your palms start to moisten. 'Deep breaths, Y/N," you think to yourself, 'he won't find out... Just stay calm and act normal.'
The two of you get ready for bed: brushing your teeth (well, you are at least), washing your face, and are currently putting on PJs. You changed in the closet, away from Alastor, which he thankfully paid no mind to. After putting on a lacy nightgown, you hastily throw the coat back over your shoulders. In hindsight, this was definitely a dead giveaway that you were hiding something. But, what choice did you have? Putting on a tranquil facade, you enter the bedroom. Alastor's sitting at the edge of the bed when you walk in, finishing buttoning up his nightshirt. 'Damn, even in pajamas he's still hot as fuck' you think. You ogle at your boyfriend for a moment, heat rising in your chest. "Ah ah, dear, don't look at me like that" He playfully reminds you. His words snap you back into reality, you smile softly at him. "Sorry, sorry!" you stammer. Walking to your side of the bed, you stare directly at the floor as to not get distracted by your growing arousal. 'Keep it together Y/N!'. Alastor's eyebrows furrow, "Darling?". "Yes?" you respond. A sharp red claw gestures to the coat, "Why are you still wearing that?". "Oh!" beads of sweat form on your forehead as you clammer to find some sort of excuse "I justtttt.... get a little chilly at night! Yep, just a case of uh cold-ness... yeah...". 'God damn it... Am I fucking stupid? "Cold-ness" isn't even a word!' you mentally berate yourself. Your boyfriend turns to fully face you on the bed, "And why does it have to be my coat, hm? Can't you use one of yours?". Fidgeting with your hands nervously, you reply, "Well I just like yours! It's nice, it reminds me of you.". "Pray tell, my dear," he begins, "Why must you be reminded of me when I'm right beside you in bed?". You take a deep breath, "Well, in your... 'condition'-". "Watch it, Darling," he warns. "Right right," you sit up straighter as you become more confident in your convoluted excuse, "I just figured you wouldn't be able to handle cuddling me. In fact, you’ll probably just stay on your side of the bed all night. Hence why I wanted the coat". You feel a little prideful at your on-the-spot reasoning… until you see your boyfriend’s expression. Yeahhh, he looked pissed. Alastor's wide grin twitches, "Excuse you, Darling! I am perfectly capable of controlling myself for one night!”. “Well, then why didn’t you sleep in here for a month?!” you retort, immediately regretting it. You weren’t actually mad, just defensive. Oh well, no going back now. "That's it!" He reaches for the sleeve of your coat, pulling on it roughly. "Hey!" you exclaim. Trying (and failing) to yank the sleeve back, the coat flings off your shoulders and into Alastor's tight grip. He discards it on the floor beside the bed. Luckily, he wasn't in a position to notice your tail, however, that didn't affect your boyfriend's sense of smell... Holding his nose high in the air, he takes small quick sniffs near you, his ears twitching at the smell of your pheromones. His pupils dilate to the size of quarters, any restraint he had before was now completely gone, "My dear," He crawls toward you on all fours, making his way across the bed, "I've spent the past few months aching for release, but I've restrained myself...". You inch backward away from him, "Alastor... Be rational... You've tried so hard, I don't want you to regret this.". As soon as you finish speaking, you inch too far off the bed and suddenly fall back, eliciting a yelp. A slender arm reaches out to grab yours, lifting you up and saving you from the fall. Alastor pulls on your arm, lifting you up so that your faces were inches apart. He takes a deep breath in, the scent of pheromones filling his nose. His eyes bore into you with a hungry, desperate, gaze, lips slightly parted as his breath grows heavier. “My dear… I would never regret making love to you… If I did have any regrets, it would be that I didn’t do this sooner…”.
Half lidded eyes meet his lustful gaze, “Your sure about this?”. Alastor’s eyes linger on your lips as he speaks, his voice low and raspy, “I’ve restrained myself for far too long… I would hate to you holding back as well. This has been a long time coming, darling, and now…”. Reaching over, his lips teasingly brush against your ear as he whispers,”I’m taking whats mine.”.
You cradle his face in your hands, thumb brushing over his flushed cheeks. Suddenly, he captures your lips in a firm kiss. The tender kisses turn sloppier, his tongue swiping past your lips asking for entry. As soon as your lips part, his long slender tongue slides against yours. You moan against his lips at the feeling which only fuels his desire more. Intertwining your tongue with his, his hand cards through your hair at the back of your head, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, drawing out a stifled moan from Alastor. You position yourself so you’re straddling his lap, his boner poking against your thigh.
As the two of you make out, you slowly roll your clothed core against the tent in his pants. Alastor pulls back from the kiss, his head jerking down into the crook of your neck. “Darling,” his large hands grip your hips, keeping them from moving, "I have a better idea...". He lifts his head back up and instantly closes the distance between the two of you. Your tongues intertwine and sloppily kiss one another, your lips lubricated with his saliva.
He moves his hands to the straps of your nightgown. The thin silky straps gently pull off your shoulders. Alastor places his palm under your elbow and pushes up gently, a silent way of asking you to put your arms up. You oblige and lift your arms followed by Alastor briefly breaking the kiss and slipping the nightgown over your head. His eyes rake over your almost naked body. One of his large hands reaches out to cup your breast. The sudden contact sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes over your nipple, the bud hardening at his cold touch. Meanwhile, his other hand travels down your body and hooks his finger under the lacy thong. Stretching the lace strap, a soft hum escapes his lips. Your breath quickens as you eagerly await his next move, needing his touch and release.
Unhooking his finger, he moves his hand to the damp spot on the underside of your thong. A breathy moan escapes your lips, "Fuck, Alastor... Don't tease.". Removing his hands, he holds them up in a gesture of surrender, "Can't handle a bit of foreplay, darling?". "Hush" you reply, your hands working to unbutton his nightshirt. Once unbuttoned, you toss the shirt off to the side and gaze at his toned torso. "See something you like?" he jests. You playfully roll your eyes and get to work on sliding off his pajama pants. Once his pants are off, his aching member frees the confines of the fabric, his tail twitching in anticipation. Alastor shudders at the cold air hitting his throbbing, erect cock. Your gaze tears away from his dick and meets his face. His eyes are half-lidded with a deep shade of pink dusting his cheeks, mouth slightly agape as he pants heavily. "What? Can't handle a bit of foreplay?" you tease.
Alastor's eyebrows furrow, a tight-lipped grin forming on his face, "You know what? No, I can't.". In a swift motion, he grabs you by the waist and tosses you on the bed. As your stomach hits the cold dark red comforter, you make a small "oof!" sound. Alastor's hands slither to both sides of your waist and lift you gently, propping you up on your hands and knees. A slender finger slides against the drenched folds of your pussy, a single digit dipping into your tight center. You let out a soft pleasured gasp at the feeling. As much as you enjoyed this, it only made you crave more. He tantalizingly pulls out his finger and brings it to his lips, sucking your juices off it. Pulling the finger out with a satisfying 'pop', he leans over your body. His chest presses against your back as he whispers in a husky low tone, "My my, little doe... You taste divine.". A needy whimper escapes your throat as your dripping cunt aches to be filled.
He kisses his way down your back, leaving a final kiss at the base of your perked-up tail before lifting his head back up. Alastor gently spreads the beads of pre-cum around his dick for extra lubrication, not that you needed, it of course. Large hands clutch the sides of your hips, claws dimpling your supple skin. Pre-cum and saliva from his hands spreads onto your skin, the moist texture making your stomach flutter. -- Alastor aligns his shaft with your opening, gradually penetrating you. A choked gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out, filling your needy cunt. After a bit of getting used to his length, he slowly thrusts into you. "That's it, little doe," he coos, "taking me so well... You'll look great as a mother".
Alastor pants heavily as he continues to rut into you, his pace picking up as he reaches closer and closer to a climax. Sparks of pleasure hit your core and he enters you at a rough tempo. "Mmph~ Al... That's it- D-Don't stop." you whimper. "Stop?" he begins, sliding into you at a more rigorous pace, "Wouldn't dream of it... After all, I couldn't leave my precious doe without filling her properly couldn't I?". Pleasure clouds your mind, all you can respond with is a cry of satisfaction. "Ah ah ah, use your words dear. Tell me how much you crave my seed.". "Need you to fill me... Need it so bad... Please..." you mumble, focused more on your approaching climax. Your words encourage Alastor further, thrusting into you deeper and hitting spots you didn't even know could be reached. His pelvis slams against your clit, sending sparks through your already trembling pussy. He speaks through strangled grunts and pants, "That's right, my doe, I'm gonna fill you over and over until you're filled with my fawns...". His large hands travel from your hips up to your chest, cupping your breasts in his hands. Mewling at the added pleasure, his thumb and index finger rolled the sensitive buds in his hands. "These would look so nice and pretty when they're swelled with milk, don't you think?". His dick slams into you at a ruthless pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin along with moans and grunts of pleasure filled the air. Alastor takes a deep breath in, inhaling the scent of pheromones. His pupils widened further, his primal instincts kicking in. Releasing your tender breasts, he lifts your thigh up over his shoulder to get a new angle. His cock drills into you at a ruthless tempo, "Gotta - Nnnph~ make sure my seed's deep inside you... Gonna- load my fawns into you...". You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your release, "Al- M'gonna-". As your orgasm washes over you, hot loads of cum fill your greedy pussy. Your cunt clenches around his drenched cock as he rides out your orgasm. His pace gradually declines as the pleasure begins to fade. Alastors upper body goes limp from his climax, torso resting against your back. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, panting heavily as he remains buried inside of you. After taking a beat, he pulls out of you. Cum spills of your cunt, loads of semen dripping down your folds and onto the bedding below. "You've made quite the mess my dear." he jests breathlessly, plunging a finger into your pussy to keep the seed from spilling, "Though, we can't let this go to waste, hm? I wasn't joking when I said you'd make a lovely mother.". You chuckle wearily and plop onto the mattress.
Rolling over onto your back, Alastor grabs the discarded clothes and helps you put your pajamas back on. He slips the silk gown back on you and presses a kiss to your forehead, "You did so well, my beautiful doe...". A smile stretches across your face at the praise. Returning the favor, you help him dress as well - buttoning up his night shirt and sliding his pants back on.
His arms wrap around your stomach as he pulls you into a loving embrace. Alastor bundles the two of you in the dark red comforter, spooning you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "I love you, Alastor" you whisper. "I love you too, darling. Sweet dreams.". With a final kiss pressed onto your cheek, you both drift off to a pleasant slumber.
YAYAYAYYA i tried rlly hard so if u dont like it then FUCK U (jk). but yeah i hope u like ittt. pls leave feedback guys :,) good or bad idfc but i rlly wanna improve and feedback is important for that!!! i hope u liked it :) i meant for the smut to be longer tbh, sorry if it wasnt as long as u were hoping. im still new at this so I tried to keep it short and sweet. I felt as if i kept it too long the quality would decline and that sucks so :/ hope u liked ittt!!!!! also i didnt edit this bc im tired lol but if u see a mistake point it out
𝐁𝐔𝐓: 𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓, 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐓, 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐎…. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍??? 𝐋𝐌𝐊
__
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @l3rittany, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @ratsematary, @reath-solia, (if i missed anyone I'm so sorry)
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moonstruckme · 3 months ago
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mae my lovely, can i possibly request emt!marauders and reader who hasn’t replied to any texts in a few days/a week? pre-established relationship but not quite living together, and reader struggles with her mental health and has holed herself up in her apartment which worries the boys greatly? please don’t write if you feel uncomfortable (and if you’ve already written it but i’ve devoured emt!marauders today and i don’t think you have) obviously!! love you
Thank you for requesting my love! And thanks to @ellecdc for helping me figure out the emt stuff <3
cw: mental health struggles, self isolation
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
Sirius’ knuckles rap loudly on your door. 
“Fuck, ease up.” James winces. “She’s gonna think we’re the cops.” 
“Good. Maybe she’ll answer for them.” 
“You need to calm down.” Remus’ voice is patience with a firm edge. “We don’t know what’s going on. If we go in angry with her, it’s not going to help anything.” 
“I think I have the right to be somewhat miffed,” Sirius argues. “You ghost someone after a first date, not once you’re in a relationship. It’s fucked.” 
“She’s not ghosting us,” James says certainly. Sirius’ mouth pinches in response.
James knows that, truly, his boyfriend is as worried as any of them. You’re well past the point in your relationship where you feel the need to establish the next time you’re going to meet before parting, but after your date last week it took the boys a few days to put it together that none of them had heard from you. 
At first, James presumed you’d simply gotten busy. Remus was convinced he’d done something to upset you. Sirius, secretly the most prone to worry, would rather believe he’s been slighted than consider the possibility that something might be keeping you from responding to their calls. Now that it’s been nearly a week, James is convinced something’s happened. You’ve had to take an emergency trip out of town or something’s spooked you and made you avoid them or—worst case scenario—you’re ill and have been holed up here with no one to check in on you for almost a week. 
Once he brought up that idea, it wasn’t difficult to convince his boyfriends to do a wellness check during their shift. 
“Just don’t be harsh with her,” Remus says gently. 
Sirius huffs. He knocks again, albeit somewhat softer. 
“NHS,” he calls. 
James holds his breath when he hears some shuffling from inside. Gradually, it gets closer and louder, until the door is creaking open and you’re peering through the crack. 
Your voice is scratchy, like you haven’t used it in a while. “What’re you doing here?”
James expects Sirius to snipe at you, is already prepared to smooth it over himself with kinder words and a gentler tone, but something seems to shift in the other boy at the sight of you. He pushes through the crack in your door, hugging you fiercely. 
“We…” Remus seems as thrown by this deviation as James is. “We thought we ought to check up on you.” 
Your hand migrates up, touching Sirius’ back tentatively. “Why?”
“It’s a wellness check.” Sirius’ voice is bitter, but the effect is somewhat muddled by how he’s speaking into your neck. “We had reason to believe you could be harmed or deceased.” 
“Oh,” you murmur. 
James takes a moment to look you over. You’re in pajamas, visibly rumpled, and yet you look as tired as if you’ve not slept in some time. There’s something off about your expression, something missing that he can’t put his finger on. It’s unsettling in a way that makes him want to wrap you up in a tight cuddle and not let go. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, perhaps more brash than he means to be. Normally he’d expect more tact from himself, but he’s shocked Sirius hasn’t asked yet, and someone has to.
“Can we come in?” Remus asks at the same time. 
You look between them like you’re not sure what to do with them. Like you’re questioning whether you’re still in some sort of dream. 
“Yeah,” you say after a moment. James gets the sense you mean it to answer both of them. You step back from the door to make room for them, and Sirius moves with you. “Um, forewarning, it’s really bad in here.” 
Really bad by your standards isn’t the same as James’. If he hadn’t seen the way you normally keep things, he’d never notice anything was amiss. Your place smells a bit stale, like when you leave for a weekend and then come home. There’s a laundry basket on the floor with a few balled socks like you’d started to fold them and given up, and if he peers into your bedroom he can see a small trash pile on your floor and the covers of your bed all twisted up. It’s no worse than his side of the dorm he’d shared with Remus and Sirius in school. 
“What happened?” Sirius asks you. His voice sounds clearer now, and James focuses back in to find that he’s let you go enough to press his forehead to yours. His brow and lips are pinched. “Why have you been avoiding us?” 
James is nearly overcome by the desire to kiss him and rub his back, but he decides to let you have the honor, if you want it. 
You look unsure whether you do. 
“I’m sorry.” The words seem scraped out from some aching part of you. “I wasn’t trying to.” 
“Then why didn’t you answer our calls?” Sirius’ tone matches yours for desperation. Remus’ expression twinges compassionately. 
“I couldn’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“Sirius,” Remus chides softly. 
Your shoulders are slumped, but when Sirius moves away you seem to droop further. He’s only giving you space, his expression far from unkind. 
“Why couldn’t you pick up, dove?” Remus asks gently. 
“I…” Your eyes meander the floor. “I didn’t know what to talk about. And then my phone died, and it was just easier. I’m really sorry.” 
“Is talking to us really that bad?” Sirius is clearly making an attempt at joking, but the heartache underlying his words is unmissable. 
“No,” you sigh. “I’m just not really fit for the world right now. I didn’t want you to worry.” 
James’ ribs hurt at your admission, but he feels himself nodding. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is you’re dealing with, he’s familiar with people who think they’re somehow so damaged they don’t deserve to engage with anyone or anything. Sirius was like that once. Remus even more often. He sees the recognition on both of their faces now, pity and love and regret all tangled up into one messy thing. 
“Well, it was a noble effort,” says James, giving you a small smile, “but you can’t stop us worrying. Can I hug you?”
You nod, making an effort towards returning his smile. It’s a half-hearted, flickering thing, but he appreciates it nonetheless. 
He kisses your forehead as he folds you into his arms, starting gentle and tightening when you hug him back. Your grip feels a bit weak, if ardent. James pushes his palm up your spine. 
“Have you eaten today, sweetheart?” 
Your hum in the negative vibrates against his skin. 
“I’ll make us something.” Remus starts toward the kitchen, passing a hand over James’ curls as he goes by. “A sandwich alright, dovey?” 
“Yeah,” you murmur. “Thanks.” 
“Don’t mention it.” His voice raises as he enters the kitchen, and James knows he wants you to hear. To understand that this is something he would happily do for you. 
“Let’s sit down,” James suggests. “Pads, would you mind opening the curtains some?” 
Sirius complies with vigor, whipping open your drapes while James gets you situated on the couch. In the light, the shadows under your eyes are more evident, as is the redness in them. 
James squishes you up against his side. Rubs up and down your arm. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. 
You make a tiny, stymied sound, and turn your head down. 
“Hey.” Sirius sits on your other side. He kisses your shoulder, worry hewn into the lines of his face. “What’s wrong?” 
Your shoulders give a little shake. It’s small, defeated. You curl further in on yourself. 
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” 
“You don’t have to explain,” James tells you, continuing to drag his hand up your arm. “It’s okay. You’re alright.” 
“I wanted—” You take in a wet inhale. He feels close to tears himself. “I wanted to be better when I saw you. I’m sorry.” 
“We don’t need you to be any sort of way, sweetheart.” Sirius’ voice is soft but fervent. “We just want to be with you.”
“As much as you’ll let us,” James agrees. His own voice is thick, and Sirius slides his arm around you to rub between his shoulders. 
You don’t say much after that. James holds you tight until your trembling stops, and even then he only loosens his grip to let you eat the grilled cheese Remus has made for you. From the wrappers he saw in your room, it’s likely the closest thing to a prepared meal you’ve had in some time. 
When you’re done eating, Sirius insists on kissing the saltiness from your cheeks even though your tears have dried. Remus coaxes you into a bath while James and Sirius tidy your room and change your sheets, and then Remus enlists Sirius to shampoo your hair while he tucks your sheets in more effectively. They put your phone on the charger. James makes dinner and puts it in the fridge for you to have later. None of it fixes anything, but he hopes it makes you feel less alone. 
When they have to go out for another call, Remus gives you a long hug, James makes you agree to go on a walk with him the next day, and Sirius threatens to pester you with calls until you block his number if you ignore them ever again. 
Your eye roll at his antics makes James’ heart sing.
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serosblunt · 4 months ago
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Kiribaku x Reader: Miss You
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Kiribaku x (Gender-neutral) reader
Warnings: Snippets of spicier content, pre-NSFW, 18+
Description: Bakugo's out of town on a mission, Ejiriou decides to text him late at night.
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Tumblr media
12:46am
The numbers stared at Eijiro, taunting him with every blink. It felt like there was never enough space in your enormous king-sized bed, but somehow, now that there wasn't an angry blonde on the other side of the mattress, it felt remarkably empty.
You were long since asleep, curled up and drooling on his chest before 11:30pm - despite your adamant denial that you 'do not drool'. You were tucked up against his side, Dynamight plushie firmly secured under your chin.
The sturdy hero thought it was the purest thing he'd ever seen, and it gave him a reason to text Katsuki so late. He knew under normal circumstances, the blond would kill him for being awake.
He doubted Kats would even be awake himself, but if he wasn't, at least he'd see Ejiro's text in the morning.
So he snapped a quick photo of the two of you, cringing at the brightness of the flash.
~ Red 🪨
Think someone's missing you
<image attached>
The responding message came through in seconds.
~ Blasty 💥
Can't believe we still have that stupid thing.
*image saved*
True enough, the limited edition plush had more than a few scorch marks on it. Evidence of Katsuki's previously attempted 'hits' on the doll.
Ejiro smiled to himself fondly.
~ Red 🪨
I think we'd both prefer it if it was the real Dynamight
~ Blasty 💥
Obviously.
Which in Bakugo language translated to 'Yeah, me too.'
You stirred slightly under your boyfriend's hold, and the red head made a mental note to type more quietly.
~ Red 🪨
How much longer do they think the assignment will take?
~ Blasty 💥
Fuckers keep giving me different answers. Hard to tell. If it’s not done by Friday I’m coming home anyway. 
Ejirou knew he very likely would. 
~ Blasty 💥
  It’s late. Go to sleep, shitty hair. 
~ Red 🪨
  Can’t sleep. Miss you
~ Blasty 💥
Miss you too, E, and the Gremlin.
He meant you. The nickname stuck after the first time you all slept over together and Katsuki discovered your 'unsavoury' sleeping habits; snoring and latching onto people. 
~ Red 🪨
<image attached>
This time it was Kirishima kissing your head gently, your face smooshed even further into his pec with the change in angle. He knew it was risky to use flash, but he was praying you’d stay asleep. 
  Wish you were here x
~ Blasty 💥
  *image saved*
Why’s Friday so fucking far away?
The typing bubble filled the empty silence for a few seconds before disappearing. Riot held back a chuckle, he was tell Katsuki was wrestling with admitting defeat his feelings.
You guys are cute. 
~ Red 🪨
  Naww thanks babe, you’re not so bad yourself ;)
~ Blasty 💥
  Don’t start shit, Ejiro. It's too late.
The red head felt suddenly cocky.
~ Red 🪨
  That a challenge?
~ Blasty 💥
Warning you, E.
The red head considered his options for less than half a second before rolling away ever so slightly so he could send his partner a more…scandalous photo.
Pointing the camera towards his chest, Ejirou made sure to get his pec in frame once more, only slightly hardened this time, knowing how much the explosive hero loved them- even if he would rather die before admitting to that.
A cheeky smile showed off his sharp teeth and tongue that hung teasingly out from between them. 
He winced at the flash once more, but decided his mission was worth it. Satisfied with himself, he pressed the send button as you stirred beside him. 
~ Red 🪨
<image attached>
“E…what’re y’doing?” You mumbled. 
“Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. I was just texting Kats.”
“With flash on?” You grumbled, clearly unhappy with the hero beside you.
“I’m, ah….helping him out?”
“Oh. Can I see?”
~ Blasty 💥
<video attached>
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month ago
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do you believe me now? | 9
in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!
Friday morning
The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 
But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 
Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 
Was it even real?
Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 
The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?
Mostly you’re confused. 
As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 
It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 
From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 
It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 
People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 
All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 
Wonderful. 
Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.
But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—
“What’chya got there?”
The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 
“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 
“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”
Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 
You shrug. “Yeah.”
He scratches his bald head. 
“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”
Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 
When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 
“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”
When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 
“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 
Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 
Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.
I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 
No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 
So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 
Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  
That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 
You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 
But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 
Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 
Fuck. 
No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 
Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 
Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 
The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—
You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 
Friday evening—present
After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 
He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 
Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 
The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 
“Hey. Water’s warm.”
You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 
A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 
Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 
“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 
And you still feel terrible. 
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 
“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 
Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 
“My neighbor said he c—” 
You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 
“He said he could hear us. Last night.”
Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 
“He’s in the unit next to you?”
You nod. “We share a wall.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 
“What did he say?”
“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”
You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 
A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  
His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”
“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”
It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 
Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.
Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 
As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 
You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 
When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 
“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.
“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”
His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Tell me his name.” 
It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.
“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”
You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 
“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”
You scoff. 
“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”
“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”
“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”
To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 
“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”
Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 
“It’s your fault?”
“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m���”
His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”
“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”
He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 
“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”
“It’s the result of my actions, so—”
“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”
“He—”
“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”
“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”
You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”
The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 
“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”
He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 
“What?”
He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”
“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”
You frown. “What did he say?”
Spencer hesitates. 
“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”
“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”
Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”
“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”
You have to seriously think about it. 
“I’ve heard them yelling…”
“Nothing else?”
Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 
“No.”
“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”
You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”
His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”
Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 
“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 
“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 
“I think you should say it.”
You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 
“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”
By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 
He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.
And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 
“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 
Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”
Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 
“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 
“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”
“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 
“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 
“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”
“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 
“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 
“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”
His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”
Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 
And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 
When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 
“You can come in,” you call. 
“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”
“No, no. It’s fine.”
The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 
“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 
“Hello.”
His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 
“Is it okay if I touch you?”
In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 
Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 
“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”
It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 
“No, they don’t hurt.”
“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”
“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”
“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 
“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”
That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 
“Worse? 1-10, how—”
“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”
“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”
You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”
Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 
He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 
“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”
“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 
“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“It’s a process.”
“I understand.”
“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”
“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”
You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 
He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 
He just washes your hair. 
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brazilsho · 5 months ago
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ kenji sato x gn ! reader
summary ; little scenario on how's like to wake up besides your infamous boyfriend !
context ; just fluff , kenji being a little whiny and clingy , during the time kenji takes care of emi , reverse comfort mentions . no proofread . bad writing (tired asf) .
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the morning Sun breezed through the streets, awaking the city of Japan with a warm embrace of warmth as the people around started to waken up to do their daily duty and day.
near the island way back from the city of Japan, the nice large house was shining bright through the reflection of the sun, a loud chirp could be heard from the basement of the house,
the giant kaiju baby, emi, awaking from her slumber, snuggled up against the car, her father given her, she tiredly looked through the room only to be met by the owners AI, Mina, who was responsible for watching over the kaiju.
“good morning little emi, have you slept well?” Mina asked gently the baby, in return getting a happy chirp from emi after recognizing the robot, Mina decided to turn on some music that emi likes and gave her her breakfast, wanting to make sure that the owners of the house can be able to wake up peacefully after a long while.
As a matter of fact, Mina started to sense the sunlight become stronger through the ocean water that was around the basement and knew that a certain male upstairs would be awaken because of it.
the certain male, kenji, was laying in bed, the sunlight shining through the curtains of the rooms making the light shine right into his mesmerizing face, but his eyes meeting the sunlight frustrated his well needed slumber.
Kenji squirmed around with a little whine, squinting his eyes closed to avoid the light in his eyes, turning around to face you so that his back where facing the curtains and him burring his face in the crook of your neck.
You, of course, didn't had a problem with the sunlight, kenji's boarded back covered the entire view in front of you and it also didn't surprised you when you felt him clinging onto you in your light sleepy state.
the warmth of kenji's pleasant made you snuggle against him a little, placing your head against his chest while your eyes started to open carefully, still being a little sensitive with the bright sunlight that appears in the room.
the same goes to kenji, he could feel you leaning against him closely, making him wrap his arms around you and carefully open his eyes to look down at you, only to be meet with you already looking through your lashes at him,
his eyes sparkling with the sunlight reflecting them, showing off every detail in his eyes, making him look even more beautiful in your eyes, a smile formed at the corner of his lips as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.
“Good morning my darling” Kenji said, his sleeping voice appearing and a honest soft looking smile became more visible on him, making you almost melt at the sight as a smothered look was shown in your face.
“Morning, able to got some hours of sleep?” You jokingly asked him, remembering how much of sleep he’s slacking because of emi. Kenji frowned a little which a whine as he tighten his hold on you as he threw his head back against the soft fabric of his pillow.
You let out a snicker and hugged kenji a little, only as much as possible, “Don't worry, I think emi is starting to get the scheduled of sleep, you've done enough for these couple of weeks for her.” You said, running your fingers across the soft skin of kenji’s chest in daydream.
Just as Kenji was about to be smuggled though, wanting to say that he wasn’t the only one but appreciated the words you given him, a loud cry was heard from the basement where emi still is, it seemed like that emi was getting bored of the music and wanted to see her parents.
All kenji could do was groan and turn around his head to burry it into his pillow as he lets out a scream in frustration, he loves emi yes, but he definitely is tired, especially from even the fact that he's not even close on being used to hearing a baby cry every minute it can get.
You though, didn't seem to have much problem with the giant baby, it felt like second nature to you but you yourself where a little frustrated to say the least, it's been a good while since you had some quality time with kenji,
not being able to get any time to just be in his company, it pained your delusional heart — and his too.
“I'll go to her, wake up whenever you want” You said, removing yourself from kenji's grasp which tighten the moment you said these words, him giving off a whine in desperate need of your company,
but you tapped his chest, asking to be removed from his warmth hold and with a little hesitation he allowed you to go, which you took as an opportunity to get out of his warmth, giving him a kiss on the lips which he definitely returned, before standing up and going to the elevator to the basement to calm down your girl.
Kenji just watched you, looking at you like you are the most precious piece of art in the world for him, he sat up and stretched before making his way to start off his day, thankful to have you with him.
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© brazilsho ─ 2024. works i post are not allowed to be translated, stolen, copied, or reposted on other platforms.
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oddinary4bts · 4 months ago
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Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically
☆word count: 7.3k
☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Saturday, May 4th  
You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook. 
Just a friend from high school…
You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.
You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…
It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.
Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.
Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.
Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?
You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.
As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.
[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight
You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…
Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.
You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.
You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.
And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,
[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time
You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.
You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.
It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?
What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?
Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.
There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.
You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.
You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.
It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity. 
You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…
It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying. 
You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.
You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.
[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy
It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?
Was it all just a nightmare?
You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.
[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever
You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…
You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.
When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.
Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.
He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.
The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.
“Hey,” he greets you.
You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.
“Is something wrong?”
Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.
“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.
His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”
You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”
“Yes?” he lets out.
He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.
“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.
“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”
“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”
Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.
“Nothing happened,” he tries.
But he doesn’t meet your gaze.
“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“Peach…”
You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.
“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.
“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”
He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.
“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.
You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”
A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.
“I really thought…” 
You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.
“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”
“But you did!”
His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.
“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it. 
You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.
“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.
“Peach…”
“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”
He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”
“Excuse me?”
Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.
“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”
“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”
“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”
“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.
“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”
“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”
You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.
You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”
“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”
“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.
You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down. 
“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”
You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.
“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.
Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.
“Peach, please.”
“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”
“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.
It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.
“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.
“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.
You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you. 
Not after last night.
“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.
You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.
But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?
“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.
“Peach…”
“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.
You can’t afford him calling you that.
He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”
You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Okay.
Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.
You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?
You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.
*****
The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.
You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.
You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.
You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.
“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.
“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.
“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.
In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?
“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.
You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.
You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.
It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.
You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.
You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.
If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.
You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.
“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.
Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.
“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.
You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.
“I’m Jacob.”
She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”
You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again. 
“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.
She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”
And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.
After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.
She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.
You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.
Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs. 
You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”
You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”
Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”
“I don’t know,” she admits.
The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.
“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.
She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”
You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.
You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom. 
The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.
“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.
Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.
She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”
You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”
Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”
And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.
Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.
Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left. 
This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.
It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.
You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.
It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.
He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.
It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.
You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.
“Shit,” you let out.
“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.
“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”
“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”
“I want to go home,” you tell her.
She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.
“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.
But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.
She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.
It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.
You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.
Tuesday, May 7th 
You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.
He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane. 
You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?
You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.
[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos
You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.
You reckon that might make you a bad person.
You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning. 
You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.
You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.
Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.
“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.
You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.
“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”
“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”
He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.
She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.
As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.
As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.
It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.
What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.
You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”
Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”
You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”
You shrug. “Just wondering.”
Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.
The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.
You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches. 
It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.
“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.
“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.
Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.
“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”
Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true. 
You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.
“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”
You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.
It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.
You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.
Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.
All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.
They’re haunting your own eyes, too.
“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.
Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.
Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.
“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”
Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”
“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”
“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”
It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…
You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes. 
You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.
You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.
He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”
You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest. 
Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”
You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”
She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”
“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”
She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”
You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.
You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment. 
You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.
There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…
Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.
Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward. 
He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.
Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed. 
It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.
Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook
Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.
You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.
You take a deep breath in, and though it’s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.
You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.
Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant. 
The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.
Prev | Chapter 12.5 | Next
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:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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wileycap · 4 months ago
Text
Beings Suffering From Extreme Sleep Deprivation Should Not Attempt Turning To The Dark Side
There he was. Anakin Skywalker, the prize jewel of the Sith... even if he did not know it yet. Sitting in the office of his friend, the Supreme Chancellor.
All the pieces were now in place, and the only thing left to do was to reveal his identity to Skywalker and let him break down. The satisfaction that permeated the form of Sheev Palpatine was so great that he nearly forgot that his parents had named him Sheev.
But not for long. Distaste prickled up his spine. Still, they were entering the glorious morning of a Sith Empire that would never see night. Or, rather more accurately, the night would be neverending. And the metaphors would be better - he would hire (and by hire, he meant enslave) the greatest poets to compose endless lamentations for the suffering he was about to unleash.
Skywalker sat in the chair, looking listless. The nightmares Palpatine had sent had done their job well - it seemed like he had hardly slept. His thoughts were sluggish, his resistance gone, and his terror absolute. Terror for his "secret" wife, who he feared would die in childbirth.
And while the "visions" were far from genuine, oh, Palpatine intended to make sure that Padmé Amidala would.
With the death of his wife, Palpatine's control over Anakin Skywalker would be perfect. And, in ten or twenty years, thirty even, the boy would become his new vessel. After all, the plans of the Sith were measured in the millenia, and Sheev Palpatine had no intention of planting trees in whose shade younger generations might sit. No. He intended to sit there himself, chasing off the whippersnappers so they might get sunburnt. (He really needed to consult a poet.)
But the creation of his Empire was a far more immediate goal, and a very worthy stepping stone indeed. And since all it would take was a push, he had better get to administering said push.
"Dear boy, I don't think I've ever seen you look quite this... disturbed," he intoned, perfectly miming the tones of a concerned grandfather. "Not - and I am terribly sorry to bring this up, but I can't help but be concerned - not even... not even when your mother died."
There. Skywalker was an easy instrument to play. A veil of concern, a dash of "you can tell me anything." A hint of his past trauma, which so neatly (almost as if by design) connected to his current fear. Even calling attention to Skywalker's sorry state served to remind him that the structures he could depend on were now shaky and unsure, ravaged by war.
Palpatine briefly entertained himself by wondering what the boy might think of the sheer amount of planning that had been put into his fall.
"Mom?" Skywalker asked, voice groggy and wide eyes betraying his shock.
And said nothing more, just gaped at Palpatine, as if he were about to pull Shmi Skywalker out from under his robes. Idiot boy.
"I'm terribly sorry for shocking you, Anakin," Palpatine said, suffusing the room with his phony concern. "I know it must be horrible to think about, especially in these... present circumstances."
Well, he'd thrown subtlety out the viewport, but that would certainly get the job done.
Skywalker did not respond. He was blearily gazing into middle distance. And Palpatine was running out of time - Skywalker needed to fall now, before Kenobi could return from Utapau and somehow pull him back from the brink, again.
So, subtlety? Subtlety would die the same death it always died in Skywalker's presence: a sudden one.
"Actually, I've called you here on an important matter," he said, injecting some urgency into his tone - no longer a grandfather, but a concerned statesman. "I now have every reason to believe that Senator Amidala and the Delegation of Two Thousand are planning a coup."
"Huh?" Skywalker said, attempting to sit up. "Padmé's planning..."
And then his train of thought appeared to slip away again, and he resumed his vacant staring.
"Yes." Palpatine gritted out. "Padmé Amidala, your wife, is planning a coup."
"Oh. Yeah, she's good at politics," Anakin mumbled, offering Palpatine a tired smile. "I'm sure she'll do a good job."
"A coup against me." When nothing more than a "hmm" was forthcoming, Palpatine continued. "And it appears she has allied with the Jedi Council."
Skywalker suddenly stood up, ramrod straight. Finally, Palpatine thought.
"What?"
"I'm sorry you have to find out this way-"
"No, no, this is great! She's finally hanging out with my work friends! Now she'll know what it feels like!" Skywalker shook his head. "Like, it's only fair, right? I've sat through a ton of formal dinners and stuff. And Bail is okay, I guess, and Mon, and Fang Zhar is kinda funny, but... they're so boring. Treaty this, agreement that, 'what do you think, Master Jedi?'"
Skywalker started pacing. "Yeah, but who's laughing now, Padmé? I hope she tries to take them out for lunch. Then she'll get to see twelve Jedi Masters meditating to discern which restaurant the Force is pulling them towards."
He turned to Palpatine, as if to explain. "And that takes hours. You wanted lunch? Sorry, it's dinnertime and also tomorrow, and the spot they picked, which, by the way, is always the one Yoda wants,-" and, to the Sith Lord's horror, he launched into an imitation, "'mmm, great darkness I sense within the Jundland Buffet, perhaps to Stewcruiser, we should instead go', but when we finally decide to go to Stewcruiser, it's closed on Taungsday, and the whole thing starts all over again!"
And at that, Skywalker sat down with a huff.
"Indeed," Palpatine said, no longer able to keep the coldness out of his voice. "The inefficiencies of the Jedi are... vexing."
"Tell me about it," Skywalker mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.
"But rather more pressingly, they are planning a coup." Palpatine said, rather icily.
"Yeah, right," the boy said, looking a bit shamefaced. "Sorry."
"It is no matter," Palpatine replied, still eyeing the Jedi. Skywalker made no move. "What do you think about the coup?"
"Oh, yeah, uh. Like I said, I'm sure she'll do a great job. Sorry, I don't really... pay attention to politics."
Palpatine opened his mouth. And then closed it again. "A coup is a bad thing, Anakin."
"Uh-huh," Skywalker said, clearly paying no attention, and that was just about the limit of Palpatine's patience. He hadn't set the entire galaxy ablaze to be uh-huhed by the boy.
It was time to go for the throat.
"Anakin, I'm going to kill your wife." He said, enunciating every word as clearly as he could. He needed to provoke the boy into fear and anger, which would feed his guilt and shame, which would lead him to the Dark Si-
"Oh, okay. Good luck."
"What?!" He hissed. "I just threatened to kill your wife!"
"Yeah, but..." Skywalker scratched at the back of his neck. "I mean, she's been in like, twenty battles. She can handle herself."
"She is eight months pregnant!"
Skywalker actually shrugged. "The med droid said she can keep doing her usual activities for as long as she feels able. And no offence, but you're kind of... old."
"Old? I am the Lord of the Sith, young fool! I possess powers your feeble mind can't even comprehend!"
Something had gone blank in Skywalker's eyes, but Palpatine was far too angry to notice. "I orchestrated this entire war! All of this is my doing! I planned for your mother to die, I corrupted the Tuskens myself, I was behind Kenobi faking his death, beh-"
And that's about as far as he got, because a sky blue blade had just passed between the spot his head occupied and the spot that was occupied by his body, and had kindly suggested to the two that it was time to part ways.
"Chancellor, Sith Lords are a specialty at the Jundland Buffet," Anakin muttered, turning off his saber. He tried to hook it back on his belt, but apparently somebody had taken his usual hook, and the handle fell to the ground. Sighing, he called it up with the Force and shoved it into his boot for safekeeping, when a thought struck him. "No, that's not right. How did Obi-Wan say it..."
And then he commed Obi-Wan, because that seemed like the thing to do. After a long wait, a small, blue Obi-Wan appeared, looking harried. Before Anakin could compliment him on his new size and color, Obi-Wan was already talking way too fast, something about killing Grievous.
"Hey, Obi-Wan, uh. I killed the Sith, but I-"
"What?" Obi-Wan's voice had a lot of static in it. He should really get that checked out. "Sorry, Anakin, did you say you killed the Sith Lord?"
"Yeah, anyways, back when we were fighting Dooku, you said something about Sith Lords and a specialty, and, uh, is it a specialty dish somewhere? And can we go there next time the Council has lunch? I'm getting really sick of Stewcruiser."
"Anakin. When was the last time you slept?"
"Oh, uh, two weeks ago or something."
There was a heavy, staticy sigh from the other end of the comlink. "Alright, Anakin. Turn the comlink around and show me the Sith, and then I'll guide you through cleaning up the pieces of the duelling droid you dismantled this time, and - oh Force, is that the Chancellor?!"
"Uh-huh," Anakin nodded, forgetting that he wasn't in view of the receiver.
"Don't uh-huh me, Anakin! Did you kill the Supreme Chancellor?"
"Yeah, he was the Sith?" There weren't any more words coming through the comlink, so Anakin figured it was safe to continue. "He said that he orchestrated the whole war and he was the Sith. Also, for some reason, he moved out here to the desert, and that's weird, because I don't think it's gonna agree with his complexion."
There was more silence from the comlink. Anakin remembered to turn it so he was again visible to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan appeared to be frozen.
"Are you... disappointed?" Anakin asked, after a while.
"No more than the usual amount," Obi-Wan sighed. "Go take a nap."
"Oh, good," Anakin smiled. And then frowned. "Wait, what do you mean, 'the usual amount?'"
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satzumosupremacy · 5 months ago
Text
Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.10
Desperation
Male reader x Jeon Somi
Tags: Smut, literally face fucking, daddy kink
2.8k Words
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You have a history with Somi. Back when you were a freshly new bodyguard, she repeatedly sought out your services. Regardless of whether the close relationship you shared with her is just a distant memory for you, she still thinks of you from time to time—perhaps more often than you'd expect. And here you are, reminiscing about the old days and walking in front of Somi as she follows behind.
“Oppa, y’know my song was inspired by you.”
“Fast Forward?”
There’s a reason why Somi isn’t your client anymore—she switched agencies, that’s the only reason. You advanced quickly, gaining many celebrity clients along the way. It’s the law of attraction: when people seek top talent, companies turn to you. And when Somi needed to make a decision on her own career as an idol, she only had two choices: move to a different agency or continue to have you by her side. It was a hard choice for Somi until she came to the obvious conclusion. You didn’t hold any resentment; you understood her decision. This was all business anyways.
However, the glares in your eyes weren't always so friendly. Your presence was already intimidating, with the black suit, sunglasses, earpiece, and sometimes even a holster at your hip. You didn't smile much, but you got the job done. Initially, Somi thought you were a cold person, but that changed once you became her regular bodyguard. The more time she spent with you, the more her perception shifted. Despite your cold and intimidating appearance, you cared for and protected your client. That was the job you had signed up for.
“I took part in the lyrics,” Somi says, causing you to stop short before opening the door and look back at her.
“What do I have to do with your song?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just.. just missed you, Oppa. Don’t you miss me too?”
You couldn't give her an answer when she expected a 'yes,' but you remained silent. Was it wrong to forget about her? You had her phone number, but you never called or texted. Not even to wish her something like a 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy New Year.'
Somi glances around to make sure no one is watching. Once she's certain both of you are alone, she takes your hand. “I know we are parting ways again after this. But can we catch up? I don’t want you to leave.”
“I think your manager is waiting, Somi. We can catch up next time. Promise?”
“But remember the promise you made with me last time?”
You're clueless. Her question was too vague. It's been years. "What promise?"
“May I come over, Oppa? You’ve seen my place. I never saw yours.”
Somi never slept with you, but it was obvious that she wanted to fuck at the hotel when you went overseas with her, which didn't went her way anyways since this was all business. “Does Chaeyoung talk about me to you, Somi? I’m sure she said something.”
“Oppa, just once. Please?” Somi’s begging for you straightforwardly, you can tell from her eyes that she’s been lonely for far too long. “Aren’t we close? How many years have we not seen each other? It’s been too long, Oppa.”
There’s also not a single lie that you can tell Somi was interested in you, not just sexually, but also romantically. When times change, it’s questionable when you and Somi parted ways.
“Ennik,” you say softly. “Somi.”
“Yes?” she smiles and lets go of your hand.
“Come home with me.”
She chuckles, “finally, you’re not playing hard for once.”
———
“Daddy?” Somi says cautiously out of the blue as you pull into the driveway.
“Is that like one of your kinks?” you chuckle.
“You don’t like it?”
“I’m not judging. I don’t mind it, Somi.” You turn the car off and close the garage door. “Let’s go inside.”
She's unusually quiet, waiting impatiently as you both exit the car and walk inside. There's no doubt that Somi won't let you off the hook the moment you step in. She's hungry. She's lonely. As you shut the door calmly, before you can even turn around, she gets on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking up at you desperately.
"Give it to me, Daddy," she softly pleads once you see her kneeling, slowly placing her hands on your pants and pulls down slowly.
“Somi,” you take a breath, "how much did you missed me?"
"So much." Somi leans closer, staring right at you from below and getting a whiff of your crotch.
"Then show me how much you missed me. Be a good girl."
Somi doesn't respond, but you can see it in her eyes that she wants to be proven worthy. And slowly, Somi bites onto the waistband of your boxers, then pulls it down with a wicked smirk, and you felt her nose dragging against your skin.
She’s not someone who you just met. You know that she's a horny one at heart. Somi didn't want to waste any time. Her breaths came shallow and quick, as if each breath were full of desperation. She gulps and stares at your cock the moment it flings out of your boxers. But before you give her a taste, what's the fun without a small tease? You already have her in a chokehold, and she wouldn’t want to escape it.
"Take off your shirt," you demand, caressing her cheeks. Somi didn't even hesitate and takes off her shirt, revealing a black bra as you stare at her cleavage. Her tit's are round and perfect, more than enough to where you would want your face in between.
“Good girl.” you say, smirking.
She leans closer again and only stares at you after a quick kiss on the tip of your cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about you. I thought about you late last night."
“I’ll make it come true, Somi.” You say, brushing her hair and getting a clear view of her beauty. Once her mouth opened, she wanted only one thing: to taste you. But knowing how desperate Somi is, you're not letting her. Not this easily. You pull her hair back and she gasp, staring up to meet your gaze.
Somi gulps, which was loud in this quiet house. “Daddy,” she whispers. You saw your own reflection in her eyes as she looks at you.
“Open your mouth,” you say, wanting to be in control. Quietly, she opens her mouth without hesitation and you slap your cock right on her cheeks, not once, but twice as she flinches and smiles, then Somi wickedly chuckles.
“I’m such a slut for you.”
“It should be that way,” you say, a deeper tone that made her heart to start fluttering. Your cock was right in front of Somi. She’s impatiently waiting like a good girl. “Keep your mouth open and your tongue out.”
Again, she listens to everything you demanded. Her eyes gleamed, begging you so desperately to the point she’ll do anything just for a small taste. And as you’re curious to how desperate she was, her salvia starts to drip off the tip of her tongue.
You slap your cock right on her tongue, then held her nape with no intentions on letting Somi have it her way. You’re planning to ruin her face. She deserves it. There’s no excuse if Somi’s been waiting for this day. And with a small thrust into her mouth, she chokes once you reached the back of her throat. You push harder, slowly every few seconds without pulling out your cock.
Somi's throat expands, and you could feel her trying to choke, when it’s only a weak one with your cock deep in her throat. She leans back, almost falling behind, and you intentionally did it to pin her against the wall. She closes her eyes shut, face trembling to how deep your cock was in. Well, you weren’t trying to make her pass out, but you did start to worry and gave Somi some room to breathe.
She takes a deep breath with your cock still in her mouth. Without a response, Somi grabs onto your hips, bobbing and tilting her head slowly. You couldn’t help but smirk at how much of a slut you made her. There was no sense of pride from Somi. She's going crazy for your cock.
“Good girl,” you groan, complimenting Somi. “Go ahead, have it. Take it.”
“Mhm,” she murmurs. Then there’s a long hum, the type of hum of tasting something delightful. You felt her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin as she grips harder and harder, cock disappearing in and out from her mouth. Saliva drips down from her chin and right onto her cleavage. You give a hard thrust and her head’s now against the wall, perfect as you smirk to what wicked intentions you have for her face—a hard face fucking.
Somi closes her eyes, letting a tear out by how hard you were thrusting into her mouth. It’s the tears of happiness that everyone gets after getting what they’ve been longing for. You decide to suddenly stop, still with your cock deep down in her throat. And with your thumb on her face, you wiped her tears, smudging her mascara in the process. She looked more of a slut at this point, and you aren’t complain of seeing Somi like this when her hair is sticking to the wall.
“Good girl,” you say, more softly with a deeper tone. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” Praising her is a cheat code, she loves being complicated and praised at, especially if it’s from you. You’re well aware of how much you meant to her. It’s no secret.
And it’s clear that you’re using her mouth like a toy, she’s choking and gagging. You could care less while you chase this peace of mind from a singer’s mouth. Somi’s not stopping you, neither would you want to.
“Fuck,” you groan softly, taking a quick breath, and seeing how much of a mess her face was and pulls out. Saliva drips down to her tits after she spits more out to make a mess. You love it how she’s just a slut taking your cock like there’s no tomorrow. Her lips are coated in saliva as she worships your cock with her lips pressing right on it.
“Am I being a good girl, Daddy?” she mumbles, lips on the tip of your cock.
“You are. Maybe you should stop talking and show me that you’re even better than a good girl.” Somi’s face was all fucked, a whole hot mess. She’s even more beautiful like this.
“I want it all over my face, Daddy.”
“Should maybe get ready then.”
You grab onto her face, squeezing her cheeks with your fingers and palm right on her chin to make Somi look up at you. You were once her love interest. You were her protector. And now, she’s on her very knees, in a mess taking your aggression. Somi couldn’t say anything, she’s more mesmerized by your glare. You push your cock back into her mouth to make Somi gag and continue to choke all over your cock.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” you groan. Your cock was shoved deep down to the point it bulges out her throat. Her eyes are closed, tears slowly coming down her face. You felt saliva dripping all the way down to your balls. Her small mouth couldn’t take it, but she's not stopping you from using her like a toy.
Your cock begins to throb, violently more as you keep shoving your cock into her mouth. There’s a whole mess on her tits as it’s drying out layer by layer. Somi’s taking it like a slut that she is. It doesn’t matter how rough you were, Somi loves the way your cock throbs. After a deep gasp, and a moan, you pull out. Webs of saliva flows out her mouth and on your cock down to her chest.
She grabs onto your cock to start stroking it. Somi knew what to do. She wants to make you cum all over her face. Her hands squeezes your cock, stroking it faster and faster while looking up at you.
“Make me cum, Somi,” you uttered quickly. “I’ll cum on your pretty face.”
“Give it to me, Daddy,” she murmurs. Her mouths wide open, tongues out, eyes all closed.
You cum by her small hands squeezing and stroking your cock, releasing all the built up sexual tension for years, but all Somi can feel was how much cum there was on her face. With a bright smile, and a couple flinches from cum shooting onto her face, she finally got her fantasy to come true. It’s warm. It’s thick. Just what she’s been craving for.
Somi’s face is the definition of getting face fucked. Her hairs a mess, cum all over her lips, cheeks, and even up to her hair as she couldn’t open her eyes but smile. Then strands of cum stretch and drip down her chin to her tits.
“What a mess,” she utters after swallowing your cum, and the biggest smile you saw from her today. Somi scoops all the cum on her face and licks every single finger.
“You’re missing more, Somi,” you say, wanting her to lick your cock clean. She crawls on her knees to suck you off without a word. “There’s some on your hair too.”
“It’s fine,” she says after pulling off your cock with a loud pop. “You taste good.”
“Was I too aggressive?”
“Kind of. Tolerable thought. But why should I complain?” She then leans in again to give your cock a quick kiss. Her chest is pumping after being used as a toy.
“Water?” you say, wanting to give her some care.
“No,” she whispers shyly.
You grab your pants and gently hand Somi her shirt. She’s still on her knees with the shirt rolled up into a ball as she covers part of her chest. “It’s not a problem if you want get in my panties if you’re thinking about it right now.”
Well, you did give her a hard face fucking. It’s only right that you give Somi a time to rest. As you put on your pants, she’s just staring down at the floor, lost in thought.
“What are you thinking, Somi?”
“Are you gonna kick me out?” she says, looking up at you. There’s a pure moment of silence, you couldn’t believe what she just said. After face fucking her? Why kick her out?
“Do you want me to, Somi?” you smirk, teasing her when you aren’t planning on kicking her out.
“You want my pussy? I’ll give it to you right now for as long as you want. Please let me stay for a while, Oppa. Please, Daddy?”
You’re dumbfounded to why Somi thinks that you’ll kick her out. “Calm down, let’s go sit on the couch. I’m not telling you to leave.”
“Oh,” she embarrassingly says and puts on her shirt. After Somi stands up, she follows you to the couch and sits right beside you. Somi couldn't belive that she got naked and took your cock like a slut. Neither did she want to fully admit of being one.
“How was it since you changed agencies, Somi?”
“I really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking that I might of made the wrong choice to leave you behind. And now you’re with Twice.”
“I’m just a bodyguard,” you chuckle.
“So what? You’re so comfortable to be around with. Isn’t it obvious?”
You shrug, “don’t know.”
“Oppa,” she takes a deep breath. “Was it also obvious that I was interested in you?”
“It was. Why are you bringing this up, Somi?”
“If I can’t buy your love, I’ll sell you my body. That’s the most I can do for you to want me in a way.”
You sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to word that, Somi. C’mon.”
She then sits closer to you and puts her head on your shoulders, “we never had a proper farewell to each other. I want to thank you for everything.”
“It’s..not like I’ll never take you in as a client again, Somi. If both our schedules are right, I don’t mind taking you.”
“Really, Oppa?”
“When’s your next concert? I’ll come with Chaeyoung.”
“Why come with her when you can be alongside me like we used to? Be backstage and we can eat at a restaurant after with my manager. I want to treat you for everything you’ve done with me.”
“Just text me, Somi. I’ll be there if your agency reaches out to me.”
“Mhm, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Do you plan on spending the night here?”
“I’m busy tomorrow morning, Oppa,” she sighs.
“I’ll take you home later, Somi.”
A/N: Lost motivation to write more, but hope this is enough. Half ass edit too.
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rui-xyz · 10 months ago
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『Mornin', Dollface』⇝♡
⭒Synopsis: How does your sweet boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, wake you up after living with you for over a year?
⭒Warnings: NSFW, fluffy smut, sleepy sex, oral (f receiving), afab!reader, LOTS of praise, princess treatment, somnophilia, reader is an eepy goober
⭒Setting: Gojo's silly lil apartment away from Juju tech
⭒Notes: I guess this could technically be considered a request from a friend, but all she gave me was "MORNING SEX" so.....
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How does your boyfriend wake you up most mornings? With his tongue inside you, of course.
He was always up before you. He was a teacher, after all, and you...
Well, in his words, you were "living the good life."
He had talked you into quiting your job when the two of you had moved in together. He claimed that princesses shouldn't have to work. Especially when he could just shoulder the bill for anything you asked for. And so, despite occasionally feeling like a freeloader, you went along with it.
So, with nothing to do but laze around or go out for a stroll, you slept in most mornings. Sort of. There was the fact that every morning, despite being unemployed, you were awoken at the sunrise, even before, by Satoru's head between your thighs.
This morning was no different. You awoke to your own involuntary whimper, and hot pleasure in your core. You could feel your hand fumbling against your thigh, trying to grab for something. Satoru's hair, no doubt, which you'd expect to be muscle memory by now.
A chuckle reverberated against your clit where his lips were fastened around it. His hand found yours before it could find his head, and he pulled away with his mouth, instead pressing his thumb to your nub as he spoke to you.
"You awake, pretty girl?" His seductive, but clearly still tired, voice called up to you. God, did the sound of it make you clench on nothing.
You pried your eyes open with a struggle. You were lucid enough to give him a hum, signifying you were somewhat conscious.
"Hi, baby," he murmured, pressing a few kisses to your thigh. His mouth soon found its way back to your clit, licking and sucking it just a bit harder now.
"Satoru," you whined out, still sounding more asleep than awake. Nonetheless, a dopey grin spread across his face, and he had to pull away again.
"How's my sweet girl? Did she sleep well?" He kissed across your other thigh now. "Ready to get back to it, I bet. Don't worry, once I'm done making you feel good, you can pass right back out."
You squeezed his hand, an implied way of saying 'I love you'. Satoru, being such a physically affectionate person, had started coming up with physical ways of saying such things. When words didn't seem like enough, he'd tug you close, making sure the angle was right so you could feel his heartbeat, and squeeze you in his arms. He wished he could have you with him all the time, hanging off him. He'd wear you like a backpack if it wasn't so dehumanizing, and probably frowned upon in public.
Your exhausted, barely-open eyes looked down into your boyfriend's gorgeous ones, finding they were already on you. With his free hand, he waved playfully at you, even as he continued lapping at your clit, making you whimper.
Soon, that free hand replaced his lips again, one finger tracing around your hole as his thumb worked your clit. He leaned up from between your thighs and scattered kisses across your face, nuzzling against your cheek.
"You awake yet, baby? Need me to make you feel even better?" At that, one of his long fingers slipped inside you. Easily, considering how long he'd been doing this before you woke up.
"Sato..." you murmured.
"I'm right here, Sweetheart." He gave your hand a kiss before he let go of it and slipped his arm under your waist, pulling you close to him. "Take your time waking up." He pressed his lips to your neck, leaving wet kisses against the skin.
Once he slipped another finger into you, you doubted he actually wanted you to take your time. It was only a few moments after that that you were more awake than not, arms wrapped around Satoru as you moaned against the top of his head.
Your groggy moans were so sexy to him, and the way your body was twitching, your hips rolling against his fingers involuntarily - he doubted you even knew it was happening. He could feel your slick starting to drip down his hand, and he had to tilt his head up, lips close to your ear.
"Want me to make you cum now, pretty girl? Or you want me inside you?"
"I-inside," you stuttered out, almost sounding desperate.
"That's my girl. So good to me."
You took a moment's break as he pulled his fingers out of you and tugged his boxers down. He gave himself a few strokes before lining up his tip with your entrance. He gave you a soft smile as he spoke. "Ready?"
"Yeah," you let out, letting your eyes wonder down his body. He was absolutely gorgeous, from head to toe, and all yours every morning. How? You didn't have a damn clue.
His length pushed in embarrassingly easy, and he leaned down, laying against your chest. His hand found one of yours and held it gently, while his other arm snaked back under you and held you close.
"How's that feel? Doesn't hurt, right?"
"No, feels good," you responded, feeling the walls of your cunt gently clench around him. He groaned softly against your skin, then leaned up and smiled at you, kissing your cheek a few times.
"Ready for me to move?"
"Mhm."
At your confirmation, he carefully drug his hips back and forth, going slow to start. You let out a quiet mewl at the friction, gripping onto Satoru with weak, tired hands. He let out gruff hums against your neck, knowing how much you loved it when you could hear him. Your cunt was still clamping around him lovingly, and he could feel himself already getting close. Telling from your moans, though, you had to be too.
"Getting close, Sweetheart?"
"Mhm!" You gasped out.
"Me too."
From there, it only took a few more, quicker, thrusts to send you both over the edge. You grabbed aimlessly against Satoru's back, just looking for somewhere to hang on (and accidentally leave a few scratches over the ones from most other mornings), and stuffed your face into his shoulder to muffle yourself. Meanwhile, he did the opposite, making sure you heard every groan he let out as he painted your insides.
As you both caught your breath, you felt your boyfriend relax, going limp and stuffing his face into the nearest part of you, which happened to be your chest. He kept his arms wrapped around you, using them to squeeze you close you him and kiss across your skin.
The two of you laid like that for a few moments, with your nails scratching at Satoru's scalp in a way that made his eyes want to roll. After only 5 minutes, though, you were asleep again. Your boyfriend looked at you, a smile of adoration on his face before he leaned up to kiss your forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Love of my life."
He got up and got ready to go to Jujutsu Tech, cleaning the both of you up in the process. He shot your sleeping figure one last glance before exiting the room, wishing he could sleep in with you.
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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 year ago
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Ateez as Dads-
collab with loren @eightmakesonebraincell who shares the same single braincell as me bc we know we're not the only ones obsessed with the recent ateez x children content
(disclaimer: i don't like babies. but the idea of ateez handling babies? adorable. loren, however, loves kids so here's the outcome)
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Hongjoong
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"hold this thing, i don't know what to do with it."
"that's your child, hongjoong."
looks like the frightened hamster meme when the baby starts crying out of nowhere
sometimes sleeps through the baby crying its lungs out at night LMAO but that's only when he's exhausted asf
bet he'll write a song or two about fatherhood too and you'll be like 'what would you know about it you slept through the night'
may be uncomfortable at times but when he starts bonding, you'll see it in his actions
like when he reforms cute little things like clothings or shoes for his baby, adding little dangly things to the crib
or when he makes cute accessories for the baby
matching reformed things omg
super stylish matching parent-kid duo
the bonding literally happens with the smallest moment like one day the baby is crying in his arms and tugs at his shirt with its little fist and he's done for he loves his kid 10000x more all of a sudden
and when the baby calms down immediately after coming into his arms? he'll die of happiness
and when the baby recognises him in a group of people??? new level of dad unlocked
literally melts whenever the kid runs across the room to fly into his arms or calls him daddy
paints the room for his kid and gives them a wall in their room to paint whatever they like
lets the kid paint his nails and they could even have that one matching painted fingernail omg
later when the kid grows up they'll have uv lights and like the latest stuff for nails but you bet hongjoong's gonna dry that nail paint by blowing on it-
literally the most supportive, allowing the kid to explore beyond conventional boundaries and guiding them along
also very attentive esp when they start growing up and observing
he'll make sure he answers all of their curious little questions to the best of their understanding
and surprisingly, he won't mind his kid in his studio
like how adorable is it when you find your kid in his lap, sharing earphones as he composes?
he just loves it when they sit on him or when they lie down next to him/on top of him when he's resting that's his therapy
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Seonghwa
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more of a mother than the real mother
knows exactly what to do like he's raised six kids already (i'm looking at you ateez)
wakes up at ass o clock in the morning to shush the crying baby so you can get some sleep :')
mother-coded that's what he is
you'll definitely be learning motherhood from him LMAO
but jokes aside he's actually the best partner you could have asked for in such a situation
he's so so patient with the kid and you
esp you
he understands when you're overwhelmed and when you need a break
so he's always willing to give you some space and takes care of the kid in the meanwhile which is so :')
so you try your best to return it to him in every way as well <3
you'll both be figuring this journey out together and that's the best part
bonds with the kid so good
esp when they start going to school and he literally can't wait for them to get home so he can hear about how their day was
lives for the gossip he gets from his kids about school too LOL
he'll be like yass give me the tea come on
also pretty much behaves like a kid when he's having a good time with his kids
like he goes 'no it's my turn to select the ice cream flavour you have to try this you'll love it i'm not hearing a no-'
kids teach him new slangs but you bet he'll stick to the good old 'no cap' and 'yeet'
gets matching stupid stuff like those green alien glasses for him and the kid-
you just know your kids will love him more than you and you accept it. you don't mind that at all bc he's such a lovable person
he'll always be running around the house with them trying to catch them or letting them catch him
they will watch animated movies together and draw together and make legos together they're gonna share that obsession
he's there. always. in every moment of their life :')
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Yunho
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curious to learn
but that doesn't stop him from playing with the baby like they're a toy boi has no fear
he's always gushing over how small and cute and adorable they are
he'll also be a bit scared at first to hold the baby in his arms but will get used to it real quick
loves feeding them and cleaning them with you
he's got some sort of magic to him too he can soothe a crying baby in seconds
plays with them/holds them like they're a cat/puppy
gives them rides on his shoulders and they love it you can hear their laughter ring around the house
teases you about how they look nothing like you but if they do look like you more, he'll be scanning them for one similarity that he can boast about.
"he's got my smile. see?"
loves playing with their hair and combing and styling it
also loves it when you all match unintentionally when going out
the type to play with the kids in the most unconventional ways when you're not looking
almost accidentally drops the baby at least once a week- i said ALMOST okay he's good at catching.
kids cling on to his long legs and he effortlessly walks like no big deal omgg
would even swing his legs like an amusement ride which might possibly earn a scream from you-
also once used the laundry basket as a rollercoaster for the kid. you can imagine how that ended. no living beings were harmed tho-
HE'S A FUN DAD OK
literally his kids are always running around him asking him to do sth fun with them or tell them jokes or play with him
teaches the kids the latest trends
makes dancing tik toks with them
he's actually also the super responsible dad, always dependable. you literally have nothing to worry about esp bc he can be serious when he needs to be
he allows the kids to take challenges, believing the kids need to grow at their own pace and that getting hurt is also a part of growing up
teaches them to be kind, to respect people, to always smile
goes on dates with them to the amusement parks, aquariums, carnivals etc and when they're older they go fishing or go-karting
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Yeosang
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(sincerely apologise for using a photo with alcohol in a post with babies BUT DOES HE NOT LOOK BABY HERE???)
the babiest of dads
googles whatever the baby does as if that will give him the answer
notices every little thing the baby does
follows instructions like a robot
forgets that the baby is actually a baby and they can't really do their stuff themselves so he has to do it for them-
like for example after a meal he clears the high chair and forgets he needs to help the baby off the chair until it wails LOL
is always worrying about what the baby is feeling esp when it is crying without a reason
always fusses about the little things bc he cares so much :')
sometimes you have to sit him down and tell him that it's okay if the baby is crying-
he even enjoys simply watching the baby esp when they do stupid stuff or play around with food
"that's disgusting but so adorable"
gets taught the latest trends by his kid but still ends up using them in the wrong contexts lmao
yeosang and the kid wailing about the mom on their way home until yeo takes the wrong turn and the kid glares at him and points to the right direction
yeosang and the kid in the shopping mall and yeosang gets lost
goes to the counter to pay but taps his pockets bc he can't find his wallet and the kid sighs loudly and hands it to him
yeosang taking his kid to the parent teacher meeting and he forgets HE'S the parent
he may be forgetful and zone out at times but he's actually very responsible. you never worry whenever you leave your kid with him and go out. you can depend on him <3
you'll see him mature as his kids grow up too, like you can literally see him learning fatherhood
doesn't mean they won't open dexter's laboratory when you're gone and clean up the mess before you come-
sees cute posts about lunchboxes with octopus sausage and seaweed characters on the rice but canNOT replicate it even after spending hours but the kids flaunt it like a masterpiece at their school <3 (loren you're so right for this)
his kids' friends WILL have a crush on yeosang. the teachers might too. how could you not??
his kids gon be the prettiest istg-
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San
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i'm sorry to break it to you but you'll have to take care of two babies <3
as loren said 'normal children learn behaviours from their parents. san learns behaviours from the baby.'
pretends to cry when the baby is crying so he can also receive hugs and kisses from you
he's actually the most responsive father ever, like he'll know what's actually happening with the kid instead of pretending to know
it's like he's connected to them on an astral level
so he's pretty much a natural caretaker
like he said, he knows how to give love
so he'll never make you feel less loved as well
he'll keep reassuring you how imp you are to him esp now that you're the mother of his child and he'll always be grateful to you for bringing this blessing into his life
but he also has his moments LMAO like i can just imagine him playing with the kid in the most babiest of manners
to the point the kid refuses to listen to you
the kids will always ALWAYS choose him whenever they're asked the 'who do you love more mom or dad' question
and even though that makes you pissed momentarily bc pls who wouldn't get pissed you find it super adorable how much your kids love their dad
safe place.
tells his kids early on what's good and what's bad. no compromises
teaches them when to be sorry and when to stand up for themselves
taekwondo together <3 he'll make them show off at family events or stuff and demand that the audience give good reactions otherwise he's gonna pout sooo hard
he'll make sure his kids don't laze around. chores? yes. exercise? yes. nap-time? necessary. homework? don't even dare to say no. play-time? HELL YES
teaches traditional games to his kids too and makes them interact with other kids to play instead of video games so early on
the video games are HIS okay they can't touch it until they grow up
kids go to him for help in school work and he'll sit there all zoned out wondering when the hell this got included in their syllabus
will refuse to give up until you catch him tired and scratching his head in confusion
"i'm pretty sure education gets tougher every year."
"whatever helps you sleep at nights san <3" LOL
loves spending time together, all of you, anywhere as long as you all are together <3
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Mingi
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9/10 times will cry when the baby cries
but also really good at taking care of them and it amazes him too
calms the baby down with the cutest most concerned face ever so he looks more baby than the baby
pretends to sleep when the baby wakes up crying in the middle of the night
until you poke his stomach and go 'don't you fucking dare' and he starts laughing helplessly
but then takes the reins and lets you sleep if you look too done <3
jokingly tries to gaslight you into thinking it's your turn to settle the baby but you bet you're keeping tabs too
but when he sees how tired you look, he'll never ever complain no matter how tired he may be himself. will even tuck YOU into bed
the type to sit in the lounge with some kid's show on with the kid itself and you give him snacks to feed the kid
but at some point he got a taste and now he's looking at the packaging and going 'this shit good' when it's actually some baby-friendly snack 😭
and then suddenly it's all gone and the kid is glaring at mingi with angry eyes 😭😭 and he's like pleasure is temporary my child-
but now he has his own fav baby snacks too.
does freestyle rapping about the misery of fatherhood LMAO
also does lame stuff like tapping on the baby's shoulder and when they turn to look at him he has his finger out so it pokes the baby's cheek like-
gets matching shades for him and the kid
hangs out with them a lot, even if it's inside
hears every story they have to tell but also they just looooveee to hear stories from him bc he's a good storyteller
even though half of the shit is made up but he pretends it actually happened-
"one time i saw your mom ugly crying in a shop. i asked her what the matter was. she saw me and fell in love instantly."
"wasn't it the other way?"
loves swinging his kids in his arms whenever he comes home and then you stand there all pouty and he runs after you-
can't scold kids to save himself. can never. always bursts out laughing whenever he glares at them. so you do that for him.
now you're the antagonist in the house
can't handle when his kids are being adorable like he'll just clutch his heart and pretend to faint
best father-kid dynamic bc he's the playful but responsible dad
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Wooyoung
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he's a natural at this come on
"i feel like he's more my sibling than my own child"
always has his baby in his arms to the point you have to snatch it from him bc you can see he's tired
takes care of everything- from bathing them to feeding them. he's so good at it too
you love him even more bc he may tease you to bits but you never thought he'd be a cooperative lovable menace too
talks to the baby in baby language and they actually hold conversations
and when you join he'll just make fun of you LOL
starts treating you like a baby too when you're tired and you're not sure you hate that you might actually start doing it on purpose too-
taught the kid the art to charm people so they're throwing random cheeky compliments around
like they'll go to a shop and the kid will compliment the shopkeeper and they'll be like omg so precious and hand freebies
and those freebies would be wooyoung's earnings btw aint no way the kid gon have those
will train a family of cutest loveable menaces :')
the chef dad
creates masterpiece lunchboxes for his kids that even the teachers are tempted to steal
i can just imagine the girl friend (also crush) of wooyoung's son at school having a big fat crush on wooyoung and wanting to marry him like come on😭😭
then the son gets super grumpy about it and woo sits him down and asks what's bothering him
then he'll teach him how to bake cookies and the son ends up sweeping the girl off her feet omgg
woo placing his hands over his kid's hands bc they're too small to properly hold the piping bag when they decorate cakes and cookies and cupcakes
them playing in the kitchen and throwing flour on each other and you come and look all smugly at woo bc yes you're gonna clean this mess later on
but you end up joining them :')
dolls up his kids and asks them to kiss him on both his cheeks before they leave
and you bet the kids love that routine
hugs. all the time. hugs.
makes sure to capture these moments for memories if you haven't already and he'll love looking back at these days <3
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Jongho
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best dad
makes sure he doesn't forget to take care of you as you take care of the baby :')
always gets surprised when the baby does sth new
priceless reactions from him, esp when the baby first says a comprehensible word or takes its first steps
always spreading his arms whenever he spots the baby so the baby can crawl/walk/run to him
swings them in the air and does those little throws
the strong dad. the one who's carrying the kids effortlessly- one on the shoulder, one under the arm, walking as if they weigh nothing
jongho's kid: hi i'm hungry
jongho: hi hungry, i'm dad
overuses every dumb dad joke ever to exist but still finds it super hilarious and sometimes you'll end up laughing along
"back in my days-"
"ah shit here we go again."
bc you know dad jokes aside he's actually a super funny guy when he wants to be
the type to team up with his kid to tease YOU
whispers shit in their ears like 'go pull out your mom's hairclip as revenge for her not letting us hang out in the snow with ice cream last night' when you're super occupied and gets a good laugh out of it
taps your shoulder and then looks away when you glare at him but ends up pointing at the kid like the kid's the one who did it-
when the two are a giggling mess it's hard to differentiate who's the actual kid from the parent
sings with his kids a lot. might vocally train them a bit too
road trips are gonna be so much more fun when everyone's singing at the top of their lungs
when his kid is older and starts to get school assignments that require some form of art like creating a model or designing a poster, his kid is definitely going to score an A because jongho can and WILL help and end up over-achieving LOL
will plan with his kids on days like valentine's or mother's day or anniversary, prepare to get serenaded by the lot
he involves them a lot in everything so they grow up super smart
loves doing stupid things with the kids too like he'll literally be the one following the kids at times
but you love it bc you never have to worry about anything with him ;-; <3 he's also super protective
unless there's a bug in front of you. then you're all on your own.
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frogchiro · 10 months ago
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Hello! I really love your writing and I had an idea from your last post with both guard dog Ghost and Soap.
I imagine after they chase off both Graves and Makarov they comfort and make sure kitty reader is alright. Taking her back to where they were sleeping so they can cuddle up with her and hold her close, making sure she doesn't wander off and get into another chase with mean Graves and Makarov. Keeping her squeezed between both Ghost and Soap.
(I've never done this before so I don't know if I did this right but I hope your having a good day/night <3)
Oh yeah they *make sure* their Kitty stays put and doesn't go anywhere anytime soon♡
They herd her back up to the hayloft where their nest is and first things first they need to lick and clean you bc you stink of a coyote and fox! Unacceptable! They managed to rub on you and scent you which only makes Johnny and Simon growl, they hate foreign scents on you, they barely tolerate John's and some feral hybrids?? Big no no
They lick and scent all over you; your face, neck, collarbone down to your breasts where Johnny sneaks a little suckle or two to your nipple which makes you mewl before moving down to your belly and finally to your most precious place where Simon, the dominant male, decides they need to conduct a pussy inspection to make sure those two didn't defile or breed you with their nasty cocks :((
You can yowl and squirm all you want but the two dogs hold you tight in their clutches, poking and prodding at your poor, swollen and wet pussy. While Makarov and Philip didn't have enough time to actually stuff you, they still managed to get a little hump in, Philip gwtting there first and getting you all nice on all fours as he tried to slip his cock in but was interrupted by Vladimir which resulted in their fight :((
Johnny and Si are simultaneously happy and angry; while you didn't get bred that fucking coyote still managed to almost slip his dick in and knot you and they just cannot risk that! So for the rest of the night and many next ones you slept soundly squished between the big, bulky bodies of your two mates and if you were ever lazily napping in the sun during the day, they hope you didn't hear them chasing and snarling at the two pesky feral hybrids who tried to sneak in once again♡
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moonstruckme · 8 days ago
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hi i have an unhealthy attachment to your doctor!remus content…could i request a fic where reader is hiding some type of health problem from him or maybe ignoring it, and when something bad happens he finds out and is all stern with her and his usual worried self? i <3 this man, thank you truly for sharing your writing and doing it so well!!
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: description of vertigo, mention of nausea
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
You’re sick of being miserable. You had a cold, which had turned out to be the flu, which had turned into a sinus infection, and your poor, sweet boyfriend had weathered it all with you. Remus had made you soup. He’d warmed damp towels for your sinuses. He’d stayed home from work a couple of days, and rubbed your back, and your chest, and your temples when they ached, and supplied you with name-brand medicines. He’d been so, so patient when you were whiny and awful to be around. So now, when your sinus infection has turned into this heinous ear pain, you’ve decided you’re done with it. 
You won’t entertain your body with its miseries any more. You certainly won’t be making it Remus’ problem. 
It’s easy not to feel miserable when you wake up before him on a slow Saturday morning. There’s a line of sunlight reaching across the room from the crack in your curtains, Remus’ face lovely even in shadow. He could use a haircut, you think fondly. It’s starting to cover the tops of his ears, which you think is a rather endearing look on him even if you have to agree when he says it’s not very professional. 
Eventually his eyes blink open. He smiles when he finds you watching him, the stretch of his lips sleepy and content. You draw a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose. 
“I think,” you say, “that we should stay here all day long.” 
Remus’ smile widens, and it takes half a second after his mouth begins moving for you to realize you can’t hear him properly. You pick your good ear up off the pillow as subtly as you can, propping your chin on your hand. You ignore the wave of dizziness that follows. 
“...what you really want? You’ve been home nearly all week,” says Remus. “What if we went on a walk today? We could go to that park you like, the one with the lake.” 
You shove down the dread that rises in your chest. This is what you want. You want to get over being poorly and get back to your life. 
“You’re right,” you say brightly. “That sounds great.” 
Remus peers over you to check the time. “Oh. God, we slept in, didn’t we? We may have to go soon if we want it to still be nice out.” 
“That’s alright,” you say easily. “I’ll be right after you, I just have to pick out what I’m going to wear.” 
Remus leans forward to peck you on the forehead, getting out of bed with a sleepy groan. He stretches his neck this way and that, movements sluggish as he goes toward the bathroom. 
Your movements are sluggish for different reasons. You sit up slowly, fighting through the vertigo that sloshes the room about you in protest. It wasn’t this bad yesterday. 
You discover a series of new miseries as you get dressed with cautious, snail-like movements. Your ear hurts something awful. More than that, the pain has spread to most of your head. The constant dizziness quickly results in a low nausea. You’re genuinely uncertain whether the ringing in your ears is a symptom of your ear infection or a warning bell of your impending insanity. 
Putting on your trousers is an ordeal. By the time you sit down on the bed to pull on socks, your resolve has spiderweb cracks spreading and threatening to unleash a meltdown. 
But you’re stubborn. You can do this, you think. If you’re only walking on even ground in the park, and Remus’ hand is in yours, you’re sure you can manage. The internet said your symptoms wouldn’t last long anyway—maybe they’ll clear up as the day goes on. 
“...ove? Dove?” 
You look up as Remus comes to stand in front of you, swallowing when the world spins. In the center of the swirl, you think he’s smiling. His hand cups your face. 
“You seemed off in your own world there,” he says fondly. 
You smile and hum, keeping your head perfectly still so that the spinning slows. Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. 
“You alright?” 
“Mhm, yeah.” You cup your hand over his, holding onto it as you stand. “Let’s go.” 
“You’re ready?” he asks while you pull him towards the door. You sway a bit in your effort to walk at a normal pace, reaching for the doorframe. 
The hallway in front of you looks like a funhouse horror. You put one foot in front of the other as surely as you can. “Yeah,” you say. “Aren’t you?”
Remus’ hand tightens on yours. You don’t understand why for a moment, but then you’re falling sideways, his hands catching you around the waist. 
“Dove.” His stern voice is slightly alarmed and largely disembodied, your eyes unable to find his face in the whirling mass in front of you. “What’s going on?” 
Like an overinflated balloon popping, you burst into tears. 
Remus collects you to his chest, holding your head securely against him as he half carries you back to the bed. It doesn’t prevent your dizziness entirely, but it helps. 
“What’s happening?” he asks more gently as you sniff and whimper. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know.” 
“I think it’s an ear infection,” you say in a small voice. “It hurts, and my head hurts, and I’m so—” You take in a short breath. “—so dizzy I feel sick.” 
“Okay. Okay, it’s alright.” Remus pets the back of your head, shushing you until you calm some. 
“Sorry,” you whimper. 
“What are you sorry for, love? For crying?” 
Your sniffly silence is answer enough. 
Remus sighs. “Why did you try to act like nothing was wrong?” 
“Because,” you say thinly, “I’m tired of things being wrong. I just want—” You pause, pressing your lips together to avoid crying again. “I want to feel normal.” 
“Oh, sweetheart.” Your boyfriend’s mix of disappointment and sympathy only brings you closer to tears. “You can’t will it, my love. And you can’t pretend this away. These are the sorts of things I need to know about.” 
You blink away the blur of tears, grateful that your world has finally straightened out. You press your head closer to Remus’ chest. “I wanted to give you a break, too,” you admit. “The internet said it would go away in a couple of days, so I figured I’d just ride it out.” 
“Mm, a middle ear infection would.” 
You stiffen. “What does that mean?” 
The kiss Remus drops to your head is heavy with compassion. “Vertigo like this comes with an inner ear infection, dove. They take longer to go away, sometimes weeks, but the process can be sped up with antibiotics.” 
He pauses while you process this. 
“You know, the sort prescribed by a doctor.” 
“Oh.” 
He chuckles fondly, kissing your head again. “This is why you tell me things. Understand?” 
“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around his middle, clinging pathetically. “I’m sorry. Help me.” 
“I will, sweetheart. Think you can lay down and be still while I nip to work and the pharmacy?” 
You don’t think you’ll have any problems there.
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