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headspace-hotel · 2 years ago

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against the logic of the lawn

Imagine a box.

This box is sealed with tape or adhesive, which shows you that it has never been opened or re-used. It is in pristine condition. Apart from that, the box could hold anything. It could contain a Star Wars Funko Pop, a printer, a shirt ordered from some sketchy online vendor, a knockoff store-brand cereal, six individually wrapped protein bars.

As a Consumer ("the" Consumer) this is your fundamental right: To purchase a box that is, presumably, identical to every other box like it.

When you Buy Product, it arrives in a box, entire of itself and without context. It has not changed since its creation. If and when Product does change—whether it is broken, spoiled, used up, or eaten—you can Buy Product that is identical in every meaningful way to the original.

It's okay if this doesn't make sense yet. (You can stop imagining the box now.)

Imagine instead a suburban housing development, somewhere in the USA.

Imagine row on row of pristine, newly built houses, each constructed with small, meaningless variations in their aesthetic, all with beige or white vinyl siding and perhaps some decorative brick, all situated on identical rectangles of land covered with freshly unrolled sod. This is the Product that every consumer aspires to Buy.

I am not exactly—qualified, or entitled, to speak on the politics of land ownership in this country. My ancestors benefited directly from the genocide of Native Americans, which allowed Europeans to steal the land they lived on, which is where a lot of wealth comes from in the end, even today. However, I have eyes in my head to see that the act of colonizing a continent, and an economic system that formed as a supporting infrastructure to colonization, have embedded something almost irreparably dysfunctional into the dominant American culture's relationship to land.

This dysfunctional Thing, this Sickness, leads us to consider land to be a Product, and to consider a human upon the land to be a Consumer.

From this point of view, land is either locked into this relationship of control and "use" to varying extents, or it is free of human influence. People trying to reason about how to preserve Earth's biosphere, working within this framework without realizing, decide that we must "set aside" large areas of land for "nature."

This is a naive and, I would reckon, probably itself colonialist way of seeing things. It appears to be well-validated by evidence. Where human population is largest, there is less biodiversity.

But I find the broad conclusions to be strikingly unscientific. The plan of "setting aside part of Earth for nature" displays little curiosity about the mechanisms by which human presence impacts biodiversity. Otherwise intelligent people, perhaps caught up in the "bargaining" phase of climate grief, seem taken in by the idea that the human species gives off a magical anti-biodiversity force field, as if feeling guiltier will fix the problems.

(Never mind that lands managed by indigenous folk actually have MORE biodiversity...almost like our species' relationship to the planet isn't inherently exploitative, but rather, the capitalist and colonialist powers destroying everything.......)

Let's go back to the image of the new housing development. This image could be just about anywhere in the USA, because the American suburban home is made for universal interchangeability, where each little house and yard is static and replaceable with any other.

Others have written about the generic-ification of the interiors of homes, how houses are decorated with the most soul-killing, colorless furnishings to make them into Products more effectively. (I think @mcmansionhell wrote about it.)

This, likewise, is the Earth turned into a Product—razed down into something with no pre-existing context, history, or responsibility. Identical parcels of land, identical houses, where once there was a unique and diverse distribution of life. The American lawn, the American garden, the industry that promotes these aesthetics, is the environmental version of that ghastly, ugly "minimalism" infecting the interiors of homes.

The extremely neat, sparse, manicured look that is so totally inescapable in American yards originated from the estates of European aristocracy, which displayed the owner's wealth by flaunting an abundance of land that was both heavily managed and useless. People defend the lawn on the basis that grass tolerates being walked upon and is good for children to play, but to say this is *the* purpose of a lawn is bullshit—children are far more interested in trees, creeks, sticks, weeds, flowers, and mud than Grass Surface, many people with lawns do not have children, and most people spend more time mowing their lawn than they do doing literally anything else outside. How often do you see Americans outside in their yards doing anything except mowing?

What is there to do, anyway? Why would you want to go outside with nothing but the sun beating down on you and the noise of your neighbors' lawn mowers? American culture tries to make mowing "manly" and emphasizes that it is somehow fulfilling in of itself. Mowing the lawn is something Men enjoy doing—almost a sort of leisure activity.

I don't have something against wanting a usable outdoor area that is good for outdoor activities, I do, however, have something against the idea that a lawn is good for outdoor activities. Parents have been bitching for decades about how impossible it is to drag kids outdoors, and there have been a million PSAs about how children need to be outside playing instead of spending their lives on video games. Meanwhile, at the place I work, every kid is ECSTATIC and vibrating with enthusiasm to be in the woods surrounded by trees, sticks, leaves, and mud.

The literal, straightforward historical answer to the lawn is that the American lawn exists to get Americans to spend money on chemicals. The modern lawn ideal was invented to sell a surplus of fertilizer created after WW2 chemical plants that had been used to make explosives were repurposed to produce fertilizer. Now you know! The more analytical, sociological answer is that the purpose of the lawn is to distance you from the lower class. A less strictly maintained space lowers property values, it looks shabby and unkempt, it reflects badly on the neighborhood, it makes you look like a "redneck." And so on. The largest, most lavish McMansions in my area all have the emptiest, most desolate yards, and the lush gardens all belong to tiny, run-down houses.

But the answer that really cuts to the core of it, I think, is that lawns are a technology for making land into a Product for consumers. (This coexists with the above answers.) Turfgrass is a perfectly generic blank slate onto which anything can be projected. It is emptiness. It is stasis.

I worry about the flattening of our imaginations. Illustrations in books generally cover the ground outdoors in a uniform layer of green, sometimes with strokes suggesting individual blades of grass if they want to get fancy. Video games do this. Animated shows and movies do this.

Short, carpet-like turfgrass as the Universal Outdoor Surface is so ubiquitous and intuitive that any alternative is bizarre, socially unacceptable, and for many, completely unimaginable. When I am a passenger in a car, what horrifies me the most to see out the window is not only the turfgrass lawns of individuals, but rather, the turfgrass Surface that the entire inhabited landscape has been rendered into—vacant stretches of land surrounding businesses and churches, separating parking lots, bordering Wal-Marts, apartment complexes, and roadsides.

These spaces are not used, they are almost never walked upon. They do nothing. They are maintained, ceaselessly, by gas-powered machines that are far, far more carbon-emitting than cars per hour of use, emitting in one hour the same amount of pollution as a 500-mile drive. It is an endless effort to keep the land in the same state, never mind that it's a shitty, useless state.

Nature is dynamic. Biodiversity is dynamic. From a business point of view, the lawn care industry has found a brilliant scheme to milk limitless money from people, since trying to put a stop to the dynamism and constant change of nature is a Sisyphean situation, and nature responds with increasingly aggressive and rapid change as disturbance gets more intense.

On r/lawncare, a man posted despairingly that he had spent over $1500 tearing out every inch of sod in his yard, only for the exact same weeds to return. That subreddit strikes horror in my heart that I cannot describe, and the more I learn about ecology, the more terrible it gets. It was common practice for people in r/lawncare to advise others to soak their entire yard in Roundup to kill all plant life and start over from a "blank slate."

Before giving up, I tried to explain over and over that it was 100% impossible to get a "blank slate." Weeds typically spread by wind and their seeds can persist for DECADES in the soil seed bank, waiting for a disastrous event to trigger them to sprout. They will always come back. It's their job.

It was impossible for those guys to understand that they were inherently not just constructing a lawn from scratch, and were contending with another power or entity (Nature) with its own interests.

The logic of the lawn also extends into our gardens. We are encouraged to see the dynamism of nature as something that acts against our interests (and thus requires Buy Product) so much, that we think any unexpected change in our yard is bad. People are sometimes baffled when I see a random plant popping up among my flowers as potentially a good thing.

"That's a weed!" Maybe! Nonetheless, it has a purpose. I don't know who this stranger is, so I would be a fool to kill it!

A good caretaker knows that the place they care for will change on its own, and that this is GOOD and brings blessings or at least messages. I didn't have to buy goldenrod plants—they came by themselves! Several of our trees arrived on their own. The logic that sees all "weeds" as an enemy to be destroyed without even identifying ignores the wisdom of nature's processes.

The other day at work, the ecologist took me to see pink lady's slipper orchids. The forest there was razed and logged about a hundred years ago, and it got into my head to ask how the orchids returned. He only shrugged. "Who knows?"

Garden centers put plants out for sale when they are blooming. People buy trees from Fast Growing Trees dot com. The quick, final results that are standard with Buy Product, which are so completely opposite the constant slow chaos of nature, have become so standard in the gardening world that the hideous black mulch sold at garden centers is severed from the very purpose of mulch, and instead serves to visually emphasize small, lonely plants against its dark background. (For the record, once your plants mature, you should not be able to SEE the mulch.)

Landscapers regularly place shrubs, bushes, trees and flowers in places where they have no room to reach maturity. It's standard—landscapers seem to plan with the expectation that everything will be ripped out within 5-10 years. The average person has no clue how big trees and bushes get because their entire surroundings, which are made of living things (which do in fact feel and communicate) are treated as disposable.

Because in ten years, this building won't be an orthodontists' office, in ten years, this old lady will be dead, in ten years, the kids will have grown, and capitalism is incapable of preparing for a future, only for the next buyer.

The logic of the lawn is that gardens and ecosystems that take time to build are not to be valued, because a lush, biodiverse garden is not easily sold, easily bought, easily maintained, easily owned, or easily treated with indifference. An ecosystem requires wisdom from the caretaker. That runs contrary to the Consumer identity.

And it's this disposable-ness, this indifference, that I am ultimately so strongly against, not grass, or low turf that you can step on.

What if we saw buying land as implying a responsibility to be its caretaker? To respect the inhabitants, whether or not we are personally pleased by them or think they look pretty? What creature could deserve to be killed just because it didn't make a person happy?

But the Consumer identity gives you something else...a sense of entitlement. "This is MY yard, and that possum doesn't get to live there." "This is MY yard, and I don't want bugs in it." "This is MY yard, and I can kill the spiders if I want to."

Meanwhile there is no responsibility to build the soil up for the next gardener. No responsibility to plant oaks that will grow mighty and life-giving. No responsibility to plant fruit-producing trees, brambles, and bushes. None of these things, any of which could have fulfilled a responsibility to the future. Rather, just to do whatever you damn well please, and leave those that come after with depleted, compacted soil and the aftermath of years of constant damage. It took my Meadow ten years to recover from being the garden patch of the guy that lived here before us. Who knows what he did to it.

The loss of topsoil in all our farmland is a bigger example, and explains how this is directly connected to colonialism. The Dust Bowl, the unsustainable farming practices that followed, the disappearance of the lush fertile prairie topsoil because of greed and colonizer mindset, and simple refusal to learn from what could be observed in nature. The colonizing peoples envisioned the continent as an "Empty" place, a Blank Slate that could be used and exploited however.

THAT is what's killing the planet, this idea that the planet is to be used and abused and bought and sold, that the power given by wealth gives you entitlement to do whatever you want. That "Land" is just another Product, and our strategies for taking care of Earth should be whatever causes the most Buy Product.

It's like I always write..."You are not a consumer! You are a caretaker!"

#plants #native plants #no lawns #kill your lawn #anti lawn #consumerism #capitalism #colonialism #genocide tw

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reidsbabyhoney · 1 month ago

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night out | hozier

the one where he gets drunk and falls in love with you all over again.

pairing: hozier x wife!reader category: fluff cw: drinking, being at a bar wc: 1.7k a/n: I'm so so sorry this took so long to write, I just had midterms for all of my classes and had absolutely no free time, but I'm finally on break so Im hoping to get more stories out these next couple of weeks! this was a request, so i hope you love it. reader is a book store owner and that is very self indulgent of my dreams of one day maybe owing a book store if nothing else works out for me. (outfit described can be found here, but as always imagine it however you like

masterlist hozier masterlist

This was the first time in what felt like years that you and Andrew were finally taking up an offer to go out.

Since the tour began, the band had invited you both out multiple times, but neither of you accepted, claiming to be too tired after the shows.

Since this was the first time that you had been able to join Andrew on tour, you were taking up as much quality time as you could get from him when he wasn't busy running around during sound check and doing interviews.

That was another reason you both declined going out multiple times deciding to spend...quality time with each other behind the doors of hotel rooms.

But tonight, you both agreed to go out when Alex asked if you would be joining the rest of the band, saying they were going to a bar just down the street from the hotel you were staying at.

Walking down the sidewalk to the bar, you’re hand in hand with Andrew who’s softly humming to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, taking in your outfit.

It was nothing extravagant, though you did want to look a bit nicer. Just a simple satin slip dress with some red boots for a pop of color and your usual purse.

“Mm thank you, you look handsome tonight too, I say we just go back to the hotel room,” you respond with a mischievous smile.

He’s simply wearing a jumper with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans, but the way his sleeves are rolled up makes you want to drag him back to the hotel room and stay there for days.

At your remark, he playfully pinches your hip and shakes his head, “No, you minx. We’re going out because you wanted to, let’s keep that in mind.”

You let out a huff as he opens the door to the bar, which looks to be busy as you eye the tables are full of people.

Surveying the bar, you quickly spot Melissa and both make your way towards the table they’ve claimed.

After greeting them all, everyone goes their own way. Alex decides to drag Andrew to the corner of the bar where the pool tables are stationed.

Over hearing his plans on getting your husband absolutely hammered tonight, you simply shake your head with a small laugh and send him off with a kiss.

An hour passes and you've had a few drinks, deciding to stay near the table and observe everyone in the cramped space.

Realizing you haven't seen Andrew in a while, you get up from your spot at the table, asking Joy if she’d seen him anywhere.

“Oh yeah, last I saw he and Alex were by the bar, I think Melissa might be over there too,” she says, pointing to where Andrew’s tall body stood at the end of the bar.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to where the three of them are standing, deciding to talk to Melissa first since Alex seems to have your husband deep in thought.

“Please tell me he hasn’t had more than 4 drinks,” you say to Melissa as she just lets out a laugh.

“I’m afraid he might be well past that y/n/n.”

Turning towards Andrew you see him looking at you as if he was met with the most divine creature in the world.

“Go on, talk to the pretty girl Andy,” says Alex, trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.

Your eyebrows basically reach your hairline as he says that, no way he’s so hammered he’s forgotten you’re married.

“Hi, em, hi, m’names Andrew, or Andy’s fine too,” he says looking a bit shy.

You just look towards Alex instead of answering, "Alex, when you said you planned on getting him hammered, I didn't think you meant it was going to be this bad!"

All he does is laugh and shrug his shoulders, finding this situation amusing.

Sighing, you know there’s no way that he’ll believe you’re truly married if you try explaining it to him now, so you decide to play into it a bit.

Smiling you shake your head and respond “ I’m y/n, it’s great to meet you Andy.”

Both Melissa and Alex just laugh, deciding to leave you both in the empty corner of the bar.

“I hope I’m not being too forward y/n, but you’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You grow a bit shy at his words, your cheeks covered in a faint blush. The conversation is reminding you of when you first met years ago, his words almost the exact same.

“No baby, not too forward at all."

“I just, well not to sound creepy, but you caught my eye while you were sitting down over there and I'm afraid to admit I was nervous to go over and introduce myself first," he says looking down at his hands as if he's embarrassed by his confession.

Your smile brightens at his words. You're truly about to swoon over this man all over again.

"Well then, I'm glad I came over here first. How about we go sit down with our friends over there yeah?” you say, pointing to where the rest of the band is.

Andrew responds by quickly nodding his head and grabbing your hand to guide you through the still very packed bar.

“Here come the lovebirds.”

Of course it’s Alex that says this, still finding extreme delight in your husband's current state.

Looking at the rest of the table, it seems like he’s caught everyone up on what’s happened because they all look at you with small smiles on their faces.

Taking your seat at the booth, sitting between Joy and Andrew the conversation starts back up again.

Your husband turns towards you and begins asking you questions.

"So, y/n, where are y'from," he asks. He's looking at you as if trying to memorize your every feature.

You shy under his intense stare, and it takes you a second to respond.

"Well, I live in Ireland."

His eyes basically pop out of his skull at your answer, surprised as if there aren't millions of people living in the country.

"Seriously, me too," his eyes bright with excitement realizing that this could possibly go somewhere, little does he [currently] know, it already has.

"Yeah I live in County Wicklow with my husband."

His face brightens then immediately falls once you finish your sentence.

"Husband?"

"Baby, look at your left hand for me, yeah?"

Doing as you say, Andrew looks at his hand that's rested on the table, finally noticing the wedding ring on his finger.

"Now take it off and look inside," you say, taking off your ring to show him the matching engraving details on the inside of both your rings.

"Andrew & y/n. April 23, 2022," he says reading the date of your wedding.

It takes him a second to realize what it means, but once it clicks, he's looking up at you, wide eyed.

"We're married! Alex, why didn't you say I was married to her," he says turning to his friend, who seems all too pleased that this conversation is happening.

Alex simply takes a swig of his beer and chuckles, "Y'never asked."

Andrew then turns towards you with embarrassment washing over his features, "Gods, I'm mortified love, and you're never going to let me live this down are you?"

You just shake your head and laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Nope."

Laughing at his reaction, you decide that it may be time to leave, realizing it's nearing one in the morning.

"C'mon, let's go back to the hotel so you have enough rest to actually be embarrassed about this tomorrow."

With that, you get out of the booth and say your goodbyes to everyone.

Walking out of the bar, there's a slight chill in the air, causing Andrew to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

Taking it, you pull it over your dress and walk hand in hand back to the hotel.

Reaching your room, you pull out the key card to your shared room, opening the door wide enough for both of you to walk in.

"I can't believe I'm so far gone I didn't even remember we were married," Andrew says as he sits down on the bed to take off his shoes.

"I know, me either, I mean how could you forget you were married to me," you say jokingly, dragging your hands down your body to emphasize what he was forgetting.

Andrew just laughs and shakes his head.

He notices you going to the bathroom and turns towards you, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit, I just need to take off my makeup," you reply.

Andrew patiently waits for you in the bed in his pajamas which consist of a pair of pajama pants that are far too old to still be worn, and a beat up shirt he'll eventually take off, claiming to be too hot. (Even though he'll later wrap his arms around you dragging you as close as he possibly could, and wake up in the morning complaining that you "radiate too much body heat", even if he's the one that starts the cuddling.)

Shortly after, you make your way out of the bathroom, fresh faced and in your own pajamas.

Getting under the covers you turn on the lamp on your nightstand and expectantly wait for Andrew to do the same.

When he doesn't, you look towards the end of the bed where he's sat.

"Andy, aren't you coming to bed?"

"I, I know we're married but, it feels odd sleeping with you, I feel like I should take you out to dinner first," he says sheepishly, finally turning to face you.

"Don't worry, you've wined and dined me many times, so I'm not worried about that, now let's go to sleep," you say.

Finally Andrew gets on his side of the bed, turning on his side so that he's facing you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh he just shakes his head and one final time asks, "I'm never forgetting about this am I?"

Letting out a fake snore, you pretend you're asleep instead of answering him though he already knows the answer.

Andrew just chuckles, knowing that whatever comes tomorrow would be worth it, cause he got to relive what it felt like to fall in love with you again.

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @man-i-love-folklore @the-song-of-flowers @songbirds-sweet @cowboycatreign @harnans @celery-grace @genevievetaylorsversion22 @alexis-34 @inejghafawifesblog @colddarkearth23 @hauntedworld @sleepy-time-dreamy @lemon9de @midsummervixen

#andrew hozier byrne #reidsbabyhoney #my fics #hozier x reader #hozier #hozier x fem!reader #fluff #hozier fic recs #I'm sorry this took me so long I've been in a writing slump please forgive me

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my-my-my · 2 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 6 - Somnophilia: Sosuke Aizen (Hueco Mundo) x Female Reader

Requested by anonymous

Summary: Observing people, shinigami and hollows alike, are just one of the many hobbies Aizen likes to partake in. In one of his visits to Naruki City, he decides to leave a book from his personal collection, in a used bookstore. You, a human who doesn't know any better, become fascinated by the book - never hearing or seeing anything about it before. No one knows of this book, except a stranger, Aizen, who feeds your curiosity.

TW: this is kinda angsty. Implied past somnophiliac acts (reader thinks its a dream), dubious consent, hypnotism, voyeurism, stalking.

Word count: 2491

Read on AO3 here.

In preparation of his descent into Hueco Mundo, Aizen scoured Karakura Town and the nearby Naruki City for test subjects, spiritual readings and hollow experimentation. Sometimes, it’s easier to disguise himself amongst the humans, wearing a gigai.

Aizen is fascinated by the mostly mundane tasks of human beings. They’re so incredibly fragile in his presence yet make the most out of their inadequacies. While their technology is not as advanced as Soul Society, his or Urahara Kisuke’s inventions, he’s amused by what they have made for themselves already.

Sometimes Aizen wanders through the various bookstores and libraries in the World of the Living. He observes mortals and what they decide to read. For whatever reason, today he decided to bring a book from his own collection and places it on the shelf of a used bookstore.

He watches you, with curious eyes, skimming the book. Your eyes widen from what he can see. What will you make of it? He wonders. The store owner doesn’t recognize the book at all but sells it to you for a low price.

He watches you read it in your home, on your commute and your days off. You’re in awe.

You decide to finish the book in a quiet part of the park, under a gazebo with some of your favourite flowers surrounding it. Page after page, you’re engrossed with what the book shares with you, things you haven’t heard of, concepts you had never dreamed of. You had never heard of this book before, no existence of it in the library or online copies anywhere. Yet it captivated you.

“Are you enjoying that book? It’s quite fascinating, isn’t it?” Aizen asks, as he walks into the gazebo to see you.

Today, Aizen would find you enjoying an iced coffee on the patio of a café in Naruki City. In the back of his mind, he had already begun his machinations to move you further away from Naruki City to Kyoto or somewhere else, where you wouldn’t be affected by his plans for Karakura Town and the nearby areas.

You sipped your coffee, thoroughly engrossed in a book that he had lent you. His lips twitched at seeing you enjoying something he also enjoyed, his heart quickened in your presence.

But he ignored it.

Today, Aizen donned a gigai, as he always does when he visits you. A simple white dress shirt tucked in to black slacks, the sleeves rolled up, his hair pushed back as normal. He ordered a white jasmine tea for himself, and a small pastry for you.

“Are you enjoying the book?” Aizen’s voice startled you, but you smiled at him, waving him over.

“Yes, I am, thank you so much Aizen-san! Your recommendations have been wonderful.” You beamed at him, placing a bookmark on the page as you closed the book. It wasn’t often that you bumped into your mysterious crush.

He gave you a small smile and sat across from you, taking a sip from his cup. This café is terrible he thought to himself, tasting the bitterness of the tea leaves. But you were here, and that was more than enough to finish drinking the offensive liquid.

“What brings you here today? I haven’t seen you in a while.” You asked, feeling nervous suddenly.

“No reason in particular, I was in the area and wanted some tea. I just happen to see you here today. It’s nice to see a familiar face.” Aizen said, continuing to drink his tea. He noticed your coffee was also still unfinished. “Are you not enjoying your drink?”

You laughed, then lowered your voice, “I found this place on a whim… but it’s kind of terrible don’t you agree?” To which you gave him a sheepish smile.

Aizen chuckled, nodding his head, “but I got this for you. Hopefully that’s better than our drinks.” Your eyes widened at the pastry, and you immediately thanked him for it.

You ripped a small portion off the plate and placed it immediately in your mouth. Your eyes lit up, it was surprisingly delicious. “You need to try this Aizen-san!” You immediately ripped another piece off and handed it to him.

A blush crept up your face as he ate from your hand. “It is delicious. Maybe they should open a bakery instead.” Aizen surmised, his tone calm and collected, as if your fingers weren’t near his mouth at all.

You gave a nervous laugh and immediately pulled away, “I think that’s a great idea for them.” “Ignoring them, tell me what you think of what you’ve read so far.” Aizen asked, watching your eyes glimmer in excitement.

It had been a few months now, of meeting with Aizen, whose first name you learned was Sosuke. He revealed very little of himself, but you had exchanged numbers with him. As of late, many of your meetings were more like “dates,” that ended with some kisses and heavy petting.

Yet you still didn’t know much of the man. He was a complete enigma to you. You had shared with one of your closest friends what you knew about him, but even their sleuthing skills couldn’t find anything. Was he giving you a fake name?

You doubted that, but you never really saw him around town save for when you two were hanging out. He wasn’t purposefully evasive towards you, he told you as much that he was in the area a lot (but didn’t specify where), as he had work there (but didn’t disclose what he did).

Yet even then, when you two were together, it felt like the rest of the world was gone. The two of you were in a bubble. It was strange in some cases, you thought. On days when you were having an especially hard time, something at work or something upsetting, you would find him, almost as if on accident.

And the time with him felt comforting. Your problems felt like they disappeared when you were with him, or he offered you advice and listening ear if it was too much to bear.

But still, nothing about him, nothing of existence of him. Maybe… you were hallucinating him?

That would make sense, right? Your friends never met him, and any instances of trying to have him meet them were thwarted at some point. Even when you tried to take photos, your phone’s camera would (surprisingly) malfunction.

Now you felt crazy, but the books were real, weren’t they?

You picked up the latest book he lent you. It was heavy, hard and sturdy. It felt real.

You took a photo of it and sent it to your closest friend, who responded with a question mark.

“Why are you sending me a pic of a book?” Your friend responded.

You replied with an “oh it was an accident, meant for someone at work!”

Ok, so the books were real.

Then your phone rang. Speak of the devil and he shall appear your mind thought, as Aizen’s name flashed on your screen. You hurriedly picked it up and heard his baritone voice immediately. “Are you free tonight?”

Aizen had treated you to dinner, at a remarkable restaurant you were saving up for. You savored every part of your meal, from the food, the décor and Aizen himself.

“I think…” you hesitated, wanting to choose your words carefully, “this is the first time you’ve called me for dinner, Aizen-san.”

He gave you a small smile, “it is, and unfortunately there’s a reason behind this.”

You felt your heart dropped at the shift of his tone.

“I’ll be going overseas indefinitely.” He said, “I’m not sure when I’ll be back here again.”

“Oh…” you trailed off, disappointment clear in your voice. “For how long?”

“I’m not sure yet, but it may be the last time I see you.” Aizen said, his face expressionless. He watched your face drop with sadness, while his heart felt a bit strange. But he ignored it, again. He enjoyed your company and nothing more of it would come from it. His plans were too far along now to pull you into them. It was better this way.

Although Aizen shared it was his last night, he wanted to spend the night together. It was a surreal blur to you. The two of you spent time watching the stars, discovering late night gems in Naruki City, with kisses in between, but once a yawn escaped your mouth, he escorted you home. You remember being tucked in to bed, and then waking up to find a new book on your bedside table. Aizen’s last gift to you. You thumbed the pages carefully before hugging the book to your chest.

The following morning, you sent him a text, to have it being bounced back. Calling him left you with an automated tone saying the number did not exist.

The man, Aizen Sosuke, never appeared in your life again. To your friends who knew of him, never brought him up.

At places where you two were seen together, no one batted an eye as to where your partner was. No one asked. As months went by, if it weren’t for the books lining your bookshelf, you would have wondered if he even really existed.

Lord Aizen remained unphased watching Ulquiorra share his update on Karakura Town to him and the rest of the Espada. Everything was going according to plan, plans that he thought well and hard for, plans that had contingencies running if they were (shockingly) to fail.

Ulquiorra’s voice droned out of Lord Aizen’s mind as he saw the briefest glimpse of you. Of course Ulquiorra was not privy to you. Watching you, hearing you, talking to you was only a privilege to Lord Aizen.

To which he thought, he was due for a visit to you.

Some nights you dreamt of Aizen.

Some dreams, the two of you were a seemingly normal couple, traveling the world and sight-seeing.

Other dreams he was a military captain, commanding his troops with his sword and his voice alone.

Some dreams felt real – his touch hot against your skin, his kisses deep and passionate. Your bed, his bed, some other bed – you would wake with the distant memories of moans and pleasure, as your thighs were left sticky, and your body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Other dreams involved him in a palace far beyond, of stark white in an area devoid of light. Where sand dunes filled the landscape, with strange creatures roaming around. He commanded them, wearing robes of white, with a presence that commanding fear and utmost respect.

You never knew what to make of these dreams. Some days you loved them, to see him again, to “feel” him again. Other days you hated it, you wished you had never met him.

The dreams now, were becoming fewer and far between, and again, you weren’t sure if you were happy with that. To be haunted by him, or to forget him almost completely.

Tonight though, you were exhausted, and your bed called to you more than anything.

Once you were sound asleep, Aizen approaches. He knows you and your bed now. He knows which parts to put weight on – and which not to – to avoid waking you. It amused him some days, to hear you cry for him in your sleep, other days it made his brows furrow, his heart quickening like it did before.

Tonight he wanted you for himself. Seeing you in Ulquiorra’s surveillance update tugged at him. You called to him, both mind and body, and it bothered him. But tonight he would indulge. His reiatsu lightly fills this room, weighing on you more heavily, forcing you into a deeper slumber.

“Sosuke” you whimpered, your eyes still closed, while your brows were knitted. He kisses your forehead and watches you relax, wondering what you were dreaming of tonight.

Aizen cups your face and turns you on to your back. Your breathing is deep – your chest rises and falls to every breath you take, your breasts barely containing your nightshirt.

Aizen muses if you were made for him, as your legs spread apart. He whispers an incantation under his breath that leaves you naked and bare for him alone.

He runs his hands over your body, parts he's familiar with, places he hungers for. Deep kisses are left along your neck as he travels down your breasts, taking delicate care for each nipple.

Your eyes are still closed, but moans are freely spilling from your mouth. Aizen pushes your legs further apart, your glistening cunt in full display for him. He draws slow circles around your clit, earning a gasp and mewl from you. It amuses him how needy your pussy is for him, you’re completely drenched, and he hasn’t even put a finger in.

Aizen pushes a finger into your wet hole and relishes at how tight you are around him. Your mouth opens into a whine, “please, more Sosuke.” Although your eyes remain firmly closed.

Who was Aizen to deny you like this? Undoing a part of his robe, Aizen pumped his cock in his hand, watching you panting, and moaning for him. As if on reflex, he watches in amusement as you pinch and play with your own breasts, before your hand circles your clit, but he stops you before you can go further.

Your body was meant for him, and he would remind you of that fact.

Aizen slowly pushes his cock inside you, relishing at how your face tightens at the sudden intrusion, but slowly relaxes as you moan to the full stretch of him. Aizen brings your face to him, giving you a deep kiss as he slams his hips into you.

A part of him wants to see your eyes open for him, to watch your eyes sparkle at him, trickle with tears as he pounds you mercilessly. But not tonight. He grinds into you, forcing your legs on his shoulders as his cock is covered in your slick juices.

You chant his name, over and over again, cries for more pleasure, more of him. And of course, he would never deny you tonight. Aizen slams into your wet pussy repeatedly, as you tighten around him, before a low groan escapes Aizen, his cum filling you up as he remained inside you. He watches you in fascination as your eyes relax again, your breathing less laborious than before, slowly pulling his softening cock out of you. You let out a soft whine from the feeling, to which Aizen kisses you, as if to say he was sorry.

He undoes the incantation in your room, your shirt appearing back on your body, before fading into the darkness of Hueco Mundo once again. When morning comes, you’re left with another moment of wonder and frustration. Of sticky thighs, sore nipples and kiss swollen lips. A vision of Aizen runs through your mind, haunting you once again.

I've been in a wistful mood for Aizen as of late... and yes, more Ghost sex hahaha. Thank you for reading! This fic was set to VIQ's "Ghost".

#bleach #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke #aizen sousuke x you #bleach smut #aizen sousuke x reader #aizen sosuke x you #aizen sosuke x reader #aizen smut #aizen x reader #aizen x you #a writes #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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yerimacoustic · 4 months ago

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𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙪𝙨 ♡ joshua x reader

↳ ❝ 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ❞ 🧺🦢☁️

summary: your parents have been in a very public rivalry with joshua’s since before you were born, yet the two of you can’t seem to stay away from each other. secret relationship au, actor!josha and model!reader, joshua hong x afab reader. also featuring vernon and mingyu. 8.4k wc.

content warnings: fluff (joshua is literally just a sweetheart), a little bit of angst, overbearing/controlling parents, strong language, brief suggestive content (make out sesh in the coat closet), champagne drinking, it’s probably not very good since i’m just getting back into writing </3 18+ mdni!

soundtrack: secret love song by little mix, they don’t know about us by one direction, see you again by tyler the creator and kali uchis, telepatía by kali uchis, sober by childish gambino, slut! by taylor swift, and ofc darling by seventeen

for anyone else, going to a movie premiere in the spur of the moment wasn’t much of a risk at all. any of joshua’s other fans could watch his new movie in public without experiencing any scrutiny. with all of that being said, there was no reason you should have been waiting near the staff entrance with a baseball cap and sunglasses. and yet, you were peering around corners and checking your watch every two seconds.

he was only two minutes late. it’s no big deal. maybe he was just preparing one of his speeches or getting his makeup touched up.

or.. he could have finally chosen to listen to his parents and stop seeing you. he could have realized that your relationship put both of your careers and reputation in jeopardy. he could have been rehearsing his breakup speech with you.

before you could prepare yourself for a theoretical rebuttal, the door swung open. and you were graced with quite possibly the most beautiful sight to behold- joshua, himself. he wore a navy blue suit, suede. he had bleached his hair recently; it was still taking some getting used to, but it was a lovely color on him. it was snow white, minus a few streaks of yellow along the ends. all in all, he looked like an angel.

neither of you wasted a second, throwing your arms around each other as he pulled you in for a deep, slow kiss. your hands rested on your shoulders, leaving prints of your palms on the fuzzy, napped fabric. you smiled into the kiss, relieved that your doubts proved to be fruitless, and he quickly reciprocated.

“thanks for coming,” he whispered to you. “i know you’ve been really busy.”

you shrugged, “its nothing i’m not used to. besides.. i had to see you. it’s been too long.”

joshua pulled away just enough to look in your eyes, adoration filling his own. with a quiet chuckle, he slowly removed the sunglasses from your face and folded them over his dress shirt. just as you moved your hands up in protest, he grabbed them both and laced his fingers with yours. “you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. can we go somewhere tonight? anywhere.”

“I-” you stopped, drawing in a shaky breath. your breathing came to a complete stop, as if you were waiting for someone to burst through the door at any moment. “i don’t know. where would we go? i bet everyone in the city knows which hotel you’re staying at.”

he snickered, “good point. but they probably don’t know which one you’re staying at.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in mock offense, “and what exactly are you implying?”

“that your fans have a little more common sense and decency than mine,” joshua sighed, though there was no sign of self-pity in his voice. he moved a hand away from yours to brush through your hair, detangling a few tiny strands.

“if only that were the case,” you chuckled gloomily. “let’s go to the restaurant by my hotel. there’s a rooftop terrace, i could buy it out for the two of us.”

“someone likes their privacy,” joshua teased. “i’ll be there. gimme a few hours after the movie ends and i’ll run to you.”

“it’s a date.” you smiled giddily and cupped his chin with your thumb and index finger, pressing your lips against his once more. and once again, the two of you smiled once graced with the pressure of a light, chaste kiss. “now, i’ve gotta get going. i’ve got a movie to watch.”

joshua’s eyes went wide; when the two of you made arrangements to sneak around that day, he wasn’t expecting you to purchase a ticket to his premiere. he expected a quick little meeting, a few kisses, words of affirmation.. he knew that the two of you were already taking great risks as it was, he didn’t expect you to take another one. “well you’ll have to tell me all about it tonight.”

“looking forward to it.” you stole another kiss from him, trying not to ruin any of his makeup. there would be plenty of time for that later. you also lifted up your sunglasses from the collar of his shirt, sliding them back on with a mischievous smirk before waving goodbye and turning your back on him.

getting into the theater wasn’t much of a problem, oddly enough. it was somewhat alarming, the realization that no one recognized you as you wore one of the most basic disguises of all time. still, you opted to sit in the very back of the theater. not only were you afraid of potentially stealing the spotlight away from joshua , but the mere thought of your parents getting wind of this was terrifying.

both of your parents had had a very public rivalry since before either of you were born. your mothers were both models, and were best friends for a long time. that was.. until your mother stole one of the most important modeling gigs from joshua’s mother. and her manager. and her celebrity crush. they ended up breaking up before she met your dad but still!

then, your mother just had to marry a football player. and joshua’s mother was quick to retaliate, entering into a marriage of convenience with a player on a rival team. needless to say, you and joshua had been forbidden from even speaking to each other, let alone supporting each other’s work. let alone falling in love…

to be fair, neither of you ever saw it coming. until you met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, the two of you had some pretty horrible preconceived notions of each other that were proven false after a private rooftop conversation. after all, they’d been planted in both of your brains since the two of you were children.

it started out as privately messaging on instagram. then when the two of you started traveling more, you moved to whatsapp. then joshua plucked up the courage to ask you for your private number and then you started meeting each other in secret wherever you could. exclusive bars and restaurants, botanical gardens, private hotels and residences… not even your closest friends knew. and it would stay that way for a long, long time.

sometimes it hurt, yes. some days were easier than others.. but it hardly bothered you as you stared up at the silver screen. dark fantasy films were making a comeback, joshua being at the center of the industry’s revolution. you leaned back in your seat, smiling dumbly at the sight of your beloved in one of those fluffy pirate shirts, exploring an unknown, frightening realm while finding love along the way…

—------------------------------------

it was cold that night. wind brushed through your hair while you kept your arms folded across the balcony, nipping at your nose and fingertips. you could see your breath, small clouds forming with each steady breath you took. you looked back towards the door near the center of the rooftop for the twentieth time; he had not stood you up yet, but the fear was always there.

your lockscreen remained empty, the only notifications being messages from your manager, vernon. several reminders about your interviews and photoshoots tomorrow, his ever present dry tone practically audible as you read the notes to yourself. it seemed you couldn’t escape reality for a second, even if you tried.

the slanted rooftop door opened quietly, but it didn’t startle you. you paid the maître d’ not to let anyone except for him upstairs. joshua stood in the doorway for a moment, letting the music from inside the restaurant ring through the air before shutting the door and muffling the smooth jazz. he watched you stare out at the city in quiet contemplation, approaching you timidly.

“the city’s so beautiful this time of night,” you told him quietly without turning to face him. “i wish we could stay here. just a little bit longer.”

he let his hands rest on the railing, one of them brushing against your elbow at the movement. “you’re heading back tomorrow?”

you nodded, “two more interviews, one more photoshoot. then it’s back home for a few weeks.” you looked back towards him. “you too?”

he shook his head, “there’s another showing in paris this weekend. and then in milan, then L.A….”

you tried to hide your disappointment, standing up a little bit taller. “well..i’m free for the next few weeks, so we’ll just.. work something out.”

joshua smiled, a pang of pain nearly visible within the movement. the flash of emotion was gone as quickly as it had first appeared, his beautiful, familiar smile quick to replace the pitiful look in his eyes. “perfect” was all he could say in the moment. “well..let’s make the most of the time we have together, then.”

“i couldn’t agree more.” with a chuckle, you led him towards a table near the center of the rooftop. It was the only one covered in a tablecloth and lit candle, where a bottle of chilled champagne and glasses awaited the two of you. you were the one to take the initiative, pouring a respectable amount of the cristal champagne in both glasses. you looked up to him as you rose yours, and he was quick to mirror your actions. “i loved your movie, by the way.”

he snickered with a bashful nod of his head, “i thought you might. you always had a dark sense of humor.”

“and a love for fantasy and romance,” you countered, taking a meager sip from your glass. “it was nice to escape reality with you, joshua. even just for a little while.”

he smiled dumbly, as if the endless amounts of compliments from critics meant nothing to him compared to what you had to say about his work. “i’m glad my performance was convincing to you,” he mused, an awfully sappy look in his eyes as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “but this-” he gestured to the empty space surrounding the two of you, “it’s really nice. thank you.”

you shook your head dismissively, “it was nothing.”

“no, i’m serious,” he told you, setting down his glass in favor of taking your free hand in his. “i haven’t had more than five minutes to myself in almost two months. i’m grateful that you would do something like this for me.”

once his warm hand was wrapped around yours, you felt prompted to look up in his eyes. his beautiful dark brown eyes.. “this wasn’t just for you, you know,” you teased him helplessly. “i’ve been needing some time to myself. you have no idea how insufferable vernon actually is.”

joshua laughed out loud, “i would have expected nothing less. someone has to keep you in line.” his hand briefly swatted at your elbow for effect.

“he’s not doing a very good job, is he?” this time, you were the one to gesture towards the space of the empty rooftop around you before facing him fully. comfortable silence passed between the two of you, warmth flooding your chest the second you got a better look at his eyes. then you whispered, “dance with me.”

joshua knew he would have been a fool to decline such a request. sorry, such a command. he was quick to set down his glass, which was half full by now. after settling on the best playlist of classy tunes he could find on spotify, he stepped towards you with a mischievous grin. once your arms were linked around his neck, his were curled around your waist in an effort to bring you closer to the warmth of his chest.

the two of you swayed in perfect time with the symphonies of strings that rang through the tiny speaker of his phone. your chin came to relax on his shoulder while his face was nestled comfortably into your hair. neither of you spoke for a moment, soaking in each other’s warmth. enjoying each other’s presence, uninterrupted, while you still could guarantee that no one unwanted would barge in on you. even your heartbeats were in perfect synch as you swayed in circles amongst the candlelight.

joshua’s touch was feather-light, but firm at the same time. there was confidence in the way he held onto your hips, fingers delicately tracing patterns in the fabric- but it wasn’t the boldest movement. he wasn’t making any efforts to insinuate that he wanted something else from you- no. it was more like he was trying to set your weary mind at ease. he knew that these less than ideal circumstances weighed on you, just like they weighed on him.

he’d washed the gel from earlier out of his hair, that much was clear once you ran your fingertips through the snow white strands. weaving the locks through your hands in gentle motions, you allowed yourself to take another step closer towards him. there was no room for either of you to even breathe without feeling the impact of the other’s chest rising and falling. you took a deep breath, getting a faint whiff of his cologne- a familiar scent of pine that you associated with him and him only.

neither of you said another word as you lifted your head up from his shoulder without breaking away from him. his lips were mere inches away from yours as the two of you stopped swaying just to get a better look at each other. the music swelled as the climax of the latest song rang through the air, painting a picture perfect moment for the two of you. you and joshua both studied each other, as if you were taking a mental note to memorize the godlike features in front of you.

After a moment, you couldn’t wait much longer. you pressed your lips against his, hoping to communicate more to him than words could in that moment. actions always spoke much louder, anyways. he seemed to agree; for her returned your kiss with fervor, cupping your cheek while his other hand kept his grip on your waist. your hands stayed in his hair even when you broke the kiss to press your forehead against his.

“let’s just stay up here for a little bit longer.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------

your eyes were glued to the tiny screen in front of you once your makeup was finished. now that you had some time to yourself, you could fixate on the most recent message you had sent to joshua: ‘i’m leaving again on the fourteenth, ik that’s your first day back in town. come over to my place.’

‘my place.’ you two had never been brave enough to meet at each others’ private residences. you knew the risks that came with it; the fear that nosy reporters or stalkers could follow you home, that either one of your friends or family members could burst in through the door.. if only there was a channel of tunnels underground designed especially for you two.

anyways, you chose to forgo sounding like a broken record and voicing your familiar concerns towards him. the three bubbles appeared on screen, blinking in the rhythmic pattern. they stayed there for a moment; he was obviously thinking really hard about what to say next. your heart nearly stopped beating completely, your breath catching in your throat, and then..

“y/n,” a voice from behind you mused.

you hurriedly pushed the power button, letting the phone fall to your lap while looking over your shoulder. vernon stood with his hands in his pockets with a blank expression. somehow you were able to read your deadpan manager like a book by now; right now, he was unhappy with you. “oh good, you’re ready. what’s taking so long?”

you sighed, “sorry. there’s just a lot on my mind.”

“like what?” vernon took a seat next to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“i don’t know how many more times i can talk about who i’m wearing or who did my makeup or what i hope to see make a comeback this fashion season,” you answered truthfully. “i’m really tired.”

vernon tried to offer a reassuring smile, his best effort being a mere tug at the one corner of his lips. “this is your last day, then you get a few weeks off. you’ll have plenty of time to rest, clear your mind.”

your eyes briefly fixated on the ceiling as you tried to figure out what to say next. “i mean in general. don’t you think that i could be doing something a lot more..meaningful?”

“where is all of this coming from?” vernon was puzzled; you were never one to complain about your occupation. you knew that you were blessed, that there were a lot of perks that outweighed the cons most of the time..you’d known that for years now. why were you suddenly having second thoughts?

“i’m.. not sure.” for a brief moment, you contemplated telling vernon about your true feelings for joshua. but you quickly realized that there were two possible directions he could take with the new information: for one, he could tell your parents. he was loyal to them, not just to you. two, he could hear you out. as your manager, he had been there for you on a physical and emotional level.

but.. you weren’t sure if now was a good time to take that risk. you stood up, checking your empty lockscreen under the guise of checking the time. “let’s get this over with,” you told him.

vernon nodded sympathetically before following suit and opening the door for you. “the second they’re done asking questions, you’re on the first plane home. you have my word.

“and listen- we’ll talk more on the way home, okay?”

you flashed him a smile of gratitude before letting out a quiet sigh. to tell the truth, you were more focused on your intense heartbeat than anything else. what did joshua have to say that was so important it took him five whole minutes and counting to type it? however, it was nothing compared to the disappointment you felt after the interview when you came back to another empty notification center.

—----------------------------------

you didn’t stop checking your phone for new messages, even when you got home. every single time you were greeted by the two checkmarks, indicating that joshua had, in fact, read your message. what was taking him so long? had his phone been intercepted somehow? or had he finally realized…

you were ready to call it quits and fling your duffle bag onto the couch on the way to the kitchen, following through with your nightly routine. chamomile tea with a mint face mask, dimmed lighting and forest rain asmr playing on the television. however, your mother, who was sitting on said sofa with her back towards you, had other plans.

the sight of her didn’t scare you; you’d grown accustomed to her barging into your home and waiting for you to get back from work trips. sometimes you seriously wondered if she knew your schedule better than you did. maybe it was a good thing joshua was ghosting you.

“good to see you, mom,” you told her casually while making your way to the kitchen. not even her looming presence could stop you from brewing a much needed cup of tea.

she furrowed her eyebrows, taking offense at how casually you blew her off in favor of going to the stove. “that’s all?”

you flicked the stove on, waiting for the water to boil. with your back towards her you rolled your eyes, “what’s going on with you? how have you been?”

slapping her hands over her knees, she stood up from the couch abruptly. “i have excellent news, young lady. the kims are throwing a birthday party tonight for their oldest son, mingyu. and guess who has been personally invited?”

you pulled out your favorite mug, a light blue one with pale butterflies scattered across the cup. “i don’t know. vernon?”

your mother huffed, “you! mrs. kim told me that mingyu wants to meet you personally. your father and i will accompany you, of course, now let’s-”

“wait a minute, wait a minute, hold on-” you turned to face her, holding your hands up. “i literally just finished a month-long gig and went to five different countries. i don’t feel like going to a birthday party for someone i’ve never even met.”

“oh come on! just take a quick nap, and don’t drink any of this sleepytime tea.” she reached over to turn the stove off and move the kettle out of the way. “i’ll pick out your outfit while you get some rest. i want you looking your best tonight!”

before you could even think about protesting, she was gently pushing you into your bedroom. she made her own way to the closet after making sure you were seated on the edge of your bed, flicking the light on with a hum of satisfaction. she began muttering to herself while you tried to get comfortable among the blankets and pillows you’ve missed so dearly, “oh yes, you’ve got so many good options… oh this color would look marvelous on you… oh mingyu loves the color blue, you’ll-”

“MOM!” you shrieked, covering your ears with the nearest pillow.

—--------------------------

of course, it was no surprise to you that your mother had chosen one of the most uncomfortable dresses in your possession. it was dark blue, short and sequined, completely backless save a series of tiny laces clinging to your lower back. you’d worn several outfits just like it in photoshoots, but you’d never felt more exposed in your life. the cold air crashed upon your bare legs as you stood in the driveway, gazing up at the kims’ mansion in a pained stupor.

this wasn’t how your night was supposed to go.

your parents, with a hand resting on either of your shoulders, led you into their close friends’ house. it was just like any other party they had dragged you along to, several esteemed guests mingling politely with champagne in hand. waiters in white tuxedos carried glasses around, wearing blank expressions that would put robots to shame. a classical string quartet played over the speakers, once that provoked you to reminisce about the special moment you and your beloved shared just a few nights prior…

your mother was quick to pull your tiny coat off of your shoulders, handing it to the nearest waiter to dispose of it properly. the air was much warmer, that much you were grateful for. “let’s go find her,” she spoke of her close friend, your gracious host. “she shouldn’t be too far behind.”

you deadpanned as she kept a firm grip onto your hand, pulling you through the crowd. you spotted a few familiar faces, friends of friends. but no one that you particularly wanted to see. although the music was classical, soothing, you could’ve sworn it was getting louder and louder by the second. you stopped in your tracks to grab a glass of champagne, knowing that it would do little to calm your nerves. but you took a quick sip anyways.

of course, your mother snatched the glass from your hands once the two of you came face to face with a woman dressed to the nines. she wore an elegant dress and pearls, making you second guess your choice of apparel (not for the first time that night), her dark hair in a slick bun. she turned to her friend(?), your mother, giving her a warm smile, “i’m so glad you could make it!”

“thank you for inviting us!” your mother chirped, tugging you closer to her by gripping onto your furthest hip. “this is my lovely daughter, y/n. she just got home, she’s been working nonstop for the past month.”

“hi,” you chimed in awkwardly, grinning.

mrs. kim looked to you, her smiled laced with pride, “i think i recognize you. mingyu and i noticed you in several television ads in one sitting! it’s great to finally meet you in person.” before you could thank her, she turned her back on the two of you in favor of grabbing a young man’s hand and prompt him to join your small circle. “ladies, this is my son, mingyu.”

you could admit that kim mingyu was objectively very attractive. he was tall, with wavy dark hair and a cut jawline of steel. you expected someone with his status (and honestly, his looks) to take one look at you and walk in the other direction with his nose up in the air. but he didn’t. he extended a hand towards you, beaming. “hi.”

“hi, happy birthday,” you whispered, bashfully taking his hand. “i’m-”

“i already know who you are,” he cut you off, not that you were going to complain about it. however, once he realized that he interrupted your train of thought, he smiled bashfully, “sorry. we’ve just.. seen you on the tv for a while now. it’s lovely to meet you.”

“we’ll leave the two of you alone,” your mother giggled, joining hands with mrs. kim and booking it out of the kitchen. much to your utter horror. you didn’t know why you were so surprised; your mother’s penchant for evil was growing stronger and stronger everyday, it seemed.

the two of you stood awkwardly for a moment, mirroring awkward smiles and nervous laughs. luckily, mingyu broke the silence before you could, “do you wanna get out of here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, momentarily confused. “..huh?”

“i mean- there’s a balcony just outside. i need some fresh air, it’s awfully stuffy in here.” the tall man chuckled, briefly grabbing at the collar of his dress shirt for effect. he had a very nice smile, one that seemed to be especially suited for film and television. there was a kindness in his eyes; he only wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

“oh- oh! yeah, that sounds really nice, actually.” you chuckled. only when you were greeted by the familiar cold air did you remember that you were not well dressed for this particular weather. once mingyu shut the door behind you, your arms were promptly folded over your chest, your palms moving up and down to provide the skin of your upper arms any sense of warmth. needless to say, it was not very effective.

“shit-” mingyu caught on quickly, throwing his blazer off his shoulders and draping it along your much smaller frame. you were soon drowned in the fabric, chuckling at how it could wrap around your entire body and then some. “sorry. i didn’t-”

“no, no it’s okay!” you laughed. “i- forgot what i was wearing for a second. my mom picked this dress out for me. she doesn’t usually do that, i swear.” inwardly, you were kicking yourself for your word choice- why did you feel the need to tell him that?

mingyu snickered, “don’t worry, i know all about that. my mom had this tailored specifically for tonight. we take birthdays pretty seriously around here.”

you nodded, unsure of what else to say in the moment. the two of you stared down the balcony in somewhat uncomfortable silence. there were already a handful of guests leaving, which undoubtedly would soon be replaced by more friends and family members. you envied those who climbed into the getaway cars, laughing and recalling the events of that night. still, you knew you had to be polite.

“so-” you both said at the same time before promptly bursting into a fit of chuckles.

“you first, birthday boy,” you chuckled.

you could have sworn mingyu tilted his head to hide a growing beam upon hearing the affectionate nickname you’d bestowed upon him. “well.. tell me more about yourself. do you have any hobbies?”

you lifted your chin up, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation as if you’d forgotten every little detail about yourself in a moment’s notice. “well…not really. don’t have a lot of time to myself. sometimes i read.”

“what kind of books?”

“you know.. the usual. nonfiction, i like a lot of history books. also.. i read some romance novels every now and again.”

mingyu chuckled in amusement, “ohhh so you’re one of those readers.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, mocking offense. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing!” mingyu was quick to throw his hands up in mock defense, snickering. you could tell the expression of guilt on his face was genuine, a sympathetic yet sheepish grin on his lips. “nothing. you just don’t look like the type to read smut in your free time.”

“well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you teased, smirking broader by the second. you’d even forgotten all about the freezing winds practically biting at your skin, thanks to him. he was easy to banter with, you could give him that much.

mingyu didn’t say anything at first, smiling bashfully towards you as if the last statement was.. promising to him. a moment of silence passed between you, your eyes instinctively falling over the balcony as a hum escaped your lips. even in your brief peace of mind, nothing could have prepared you for what he asked you next.

“are you seeing anyone right now?”

you chuckled bashfully, wondering how he jumped so quickly from such an icebreaker to a deeply personal question. “um..no. are you?”

mingyu shook his head, grinning dumbly. “my mom tries setting me up with girls all the time. that’s mostly what this birthday party is: an excuse for her to parade me in front of eligible bachelorettes.”

“i’m sorry to hear that,” you told him with sincerity, bringing his jacket a bit closer to your chest. “i get it, though. both of my parents have been pressuring me to start dating more seriously too.”

“and i imagine it's a bit harder for you too,” mingyu replied sympathetically. he had a point; there were a lot more double standards for women in the industry involving dating, hell, even just existing. you were either seen as a prude for staying single or a gold digger if you chose to date someone just as wealthy, if not more wealthy than you. there never seemed to be a happy medium, but you’d made peace with that long ago.

you shrugged. “it is what it is. frankly, i’m more concerned about keeping food on the table than seeing what the gossip magazines have to say about me.”

mingyu chuckled, albeit sadly. “well said.”

neither of you seemed to be quite sure where the conversation would go from there. there seemed to be little to no interest in elaborating on the particularly forward question he’d asked you. keeping that sentiment in mind you turned towards him, offering a small smile towards the much taller man. “should we head inside? i don’t want your mother to get the wrong idea.”

he snickered, “i could use a drink, anyways.”

he was gracious enough to let you wear his jacket just until he opened the door for you. you let out a faint sigh of relief once the familiar warmth flooded against your skin, reaching your hands up to slip the large pool of fabric off your shoulders.

but the moment you took your eyes off mingyu, your heart nearly lept out of your chest at the sight of joshua not five feet in front of you, reaching for another glass of champagne. your eyes locked, his own going wide with the realization you had caught him in a lie for the first time. he was able to keep his cool, act like your presence didn’t affect him in the slightest.. unfortunately, you weren’t so gifted in that area.

you turned to mingyu with a sympathetic yet slightly rushed grin, “it was- really nice talking to you. i hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“thanks. it was nice talki-”

before you could let him finish his thought, you rushed towards the man with fluffy bleached hair. discretion was the least of your concerns. you weren’t sure if you should be relieved that you were finally seeing him again, angry with him for ignoring you, or heartbroken that you had to meet again under such circumstances. “i thought you were going to paris,” you told him.

he looked over his shoulder, drawing in a deep breath. he knew the odds were stacked against the two of you now more than ever; you’d never found yourselves in the same public setting as both of your parents. you didn’t even have to ask him if his were close by; you knew they had a tendency to hover over him like a pair of vultures. “long story,” he whispered once he finally met your eyes. brief and distant was the contact.

you grabbed onto his arm, looking over your shoulder in the same manner as he’d done just moments before. and before you could listen to his protests, you walked him down the hall and to the nearest coat closet. no one else was around the hallways; the guests mostly found themselves in the music or drawing rooms where entertainment was provided.

you slammed the door shut, leaning back against it with your arms folded. joshua frowned once he saw the expression of hurt etched along your features, the way your eyebrows knitted together.. “you lied to me.”

“i know.”

“why?”

joshua looked away, fingers brushing along the sleeve of a random guest’s coat. it was large, dark brown.. mink, no doubt. “i.. i guess it would have been easier going back home knowing.. knowing that you thought i was still out of the country.”

you felt a strange, tightening sensation in your chest. one that was painfully unfamiliar, especially since joshua was involved. “where is all of this coming from?” you asked him quietly, keeping your position against the small door. it served two purposes: keeping him in and anyone else out. “i thought..”

“i know,” he interrupted, taking a step closer to you and letting go of the soft, plush fabric in favor of holding onto one of your hands. “i know. and i’m really sorry. i just.. i hate this.”

your eyes widened, the tightening feeling in your chest growing more intense by the second, “w-what..”

“no- no, not this,” he stepped closer, his grip on your hand tightening as he brought it up to his chest. his thumb skimmed over your knuckles, over your chilled rings. his free hand flew towards your cheek, cupping your jawline with a gentle, featherlike touch. “i mean.. sneaking around. lying. i hate living like this. i hate pretending i don’t know you exist. i want you to be able to come to my premieres as my date. i want to be able to go to your runways with you. i’m tired of this, y/n.”

you held eye contact with him, as uncomfortable as it was. his words were like daggers, the look in his beautiful, doe-like eyes serving as salt to the wounds. “trust me.. i want all of those things too. more than anything.” you paused, looking down at your joined hands. “but you know it’s a bad idea. if we tell them, there’s no way they’ll react well.”

“y/n-”

“they’ll disown us. cut us off. plus, if your parents are anything like mine, they’ll be very public with all of it.” it broke your heart to shut down such a beautiful and heartfelt declaration on his part, especially since everything inside you was telling you to abandon everything and run away with him. you couldn’t bring yourself to face him as your eyes flooded with tears; you knew the look of heartbreak on his face would prompt you to break out into heavy sobs.

“so.. what are you saying?” he asked you timidly. he was never one to raise his voice or get angry with you- honestly you weren’t sure if you would ever find anyone else quite like that in your life.

“i- i don’t know,” you answered truthfully. you couldn’t even dream of breaking things off with him. call it what you want, selfishness, fear.. but you didn’t want to lose him. that’s why you felt the need to reassure him through your heavy tears and your warbled voice, “i could never dream of being with anyone else. but i also know.. i have nothing without my parents.”

it embarrassed you to admit out loud that you were much too dependent on your parents. they dictated everything for you, they provided you with so much.. they had ties in the industry. without their help, you would undoubtedly be jobless.

“that’s not true,” he whispered with furrowed eyebrows. “you’re smart. and strong. i know you’d be more than capable.”

“shua-“

“i have enough money to support the both of us for the rest of our lives,” he told you, cupping both of your cheeks then. his touch was firm, yet gentle. “and once this movie takes off..” his voice trailed off. “let’s not make any rash decisions tonight, okay?”

just then, his fingers moved under your jawline, propping your chin up and prompting you to look up at him. “okay?” he repeated with that same beautiful gentleness, his voice hushed.

it took you a moment, but you nodded. with the realization that while you didn’t have everything figured out right that second, the least you could do was slow down and enjoy what was right in front of you. or more accurately, who was right in front of you. “yeah. okay.” you linked your arms around his neck, your chin falling to rest on his shoulder.

you pulled away just enough to look in his eyes. he’d blinked away any semblance of tears before you could see them fall down his cheeks- yet they still had such a glow of kindness and warmth in them. at times, it felt like they spoke directly to you, conveying every beautiful sentiment the two of you shared between each other. love, adoration, trust.. then they were fluttering shut once you leaned in to press your lips against his.

you both sighed in unison, as if it had been years since you held each other, kissed each other. with that being said, the kiss grew more and more desperate by the second. you’d even pulled yourself away from the closet door you had previously been leaning against, opting to press your chest against his instead. distance truly made the heart fonder, you were coming to find.

your knees felt weak once his hands slid down your figure to rest over your hips for a moment, his fingers snaking towards the small of your bare back. you could have sworn you were seeing stars by the time his fingertips folded over the tiny laces and skimmed over the skin in silky motions. his touch was so familiar to you, yet it never failed to bring butterflies to your stomach and a heated tint to your cheeks.

“i like this dress,” he whispered to you between heated kisses. you could only hum in response, hands weaving through his fluffy, ungelled hair. he smirked, feeling nothing short of pride that he left you feeling speechless. “what? you don’t like it?”

“i’d rather be wearing it just for you,” you admitted while linking an arm around his waist. under his suede jacket, of course. you clung to him, craving, needing his warmth..

“i love the sound of that.” before he could take any riskier steps, he pulled his hands away from the small of your back, his palms gliding upwards to hold onto your clothed upper waist, instead. as tempted as he was, he was not about to have sex with you in the closet; he thought it felt incredibly disrespectful, especially considering the heart-to-heart you had moments before. always the gentleman.

once his lips met your neck, you tilted your head while your hands relaxed on his waist. you felt like time had stopped from the moment you stepped foot in the closet with joshua, like nothing else mattered except the two of you. along with that beautiful, wonderful feeling came the harsh reality that your parents were most likely searching the entire mansion for you. so, you promised yourself you’d give him just a few more minutes before you’d be the one to break the embrace.

he was timid with his kisses, careful not to get too carried away and leave any marks. even so, his lips left you tilting your head back against the nearest wall in bliss. “come over tonight, please. i can’t-”

joshua lifted his head up, his eyes locking with yours. he was clearly surprised to see that your offer from earlier that day still stood, oddly enough. before he could agree, his lips parting, the door swung open next to you. you felt the impact as it hit joshua, causing him to shudder- but the culprit was quick to apologize:

“sorry, man, didn’t see you there-” vernon muttered, stepping forward to gently push past joshua, most likely with the intention to grab his own coat. of course, until he saw you pressed up against the nearest wall with your arms wrapped tightly around joshua’s waist, the man you were supposed to be in a feud with. his eyes went wide, his jaw agape as he stood in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. “....y/n??”

—-------------------------------

needless to say, joshua didn’t come over to your place that night. you were both able to smooth things over with vernon before the party was over and luckily he agreed not to tell your parents, at least for the time being. joshua was the first to leave the closet, albeit reluctantly, leaving you to face your manager with a sheepish expression. he was disappointed in you, to say the least, offended, both on a professional and personal level.. but the important thing was that he swore he would be discreet.

you both agreed to meet for lunch the next day to discuss the important matter at hand, as well as your upcoming schedule. the pesto chicken sandwich placed in front of you hardly looked appetizing, given the severity of the situation. once your manager had found the table you reserved for the two of them, he sat down in front of you with his shoulders slumped. clearly he was just about as excited for this meeting as you were.

you were the first one to speak, flashing him that same awkward smile from the night before, “hey..”

“joshua? joshua hong?” you had to hand it to vernon: he went straight to the point more often than not.

you nodded your head, which felt heavier by the second. the weight and the severity of the situation caused an aching in your temples, one that you would have wished away hours ago if it were possible. “yeah..”

although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, vernon was grateful you took the liberty of ordering his sandwich for him. ham and swiss on rye.. you’d had his order memorized for years now. he took a bite of it, as if to drown his sorrows in the small sandwich. “i just- have so many questions. how did you guys even meet? aren’t you supposed to hate each other?”

“jihyo’s birthday party a few years back..” now that you admitted it out loud, you were in disbelief that the two of you were able to keep your relationship a secret for so long. only for all of the best efforts, the sneaking around, and the little white lies to be thrown down the drain at a stranger’s birthday party. “we got to talking and realized.. neither of the lies our parents told us about each other were true. that night he messaged me on instagram and.. one thing led to another.”

from the looks of it, vernon, himself, was starting to get a headache as you retold the events of your relationship to him. his palm went to his forehead, rubbing the skin with a heavy sigh of dread. “and.. just how have you managed to keep this a secret for so long? without my help?”

you shrugged your shoulders just as a pit began to form in your stomach. “luck, i guess?”

“let’s hope whoever blessed you with good luck is still feeling generous when your parents find out,” he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “and they will find out, y/n. it may have been me who found you guys in the closet last night, but the two of you can only keep up appearances for so long.

“imagine if it was mingyu who found you. or one of his parents. hell, one of your parents.”

you shuddered at the thought of your parents walking in on you making out with anyone in that closet, let alone the child of their sworn enemies. “you’re right. it was.. super irresponsible of us.” you paused. “are you saying.. we should just tell them?”

vernon swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, nodding his head in the process, “better than finding out through the media, don’t you think?”

“i guess.” you leaned back in your seat with a sigh. not for the first time, you envied the couple sitting a few tables across from you. they were strangers to you, but they seemed so.. happy. they didn’t have to worry about being seen together, make sure no one was looking before holding hands, secret “i love yous..” none of it. it didn’t seem fair to you.

as vernon noticed you sitting in quiet contemplation, he folded his arms across the table. “what are you thinking about?”

“vernon.. you’re fired.”

you could have sworn vernon’s eyes grew nearly twice their size. “wait a minute, wait a minute- what??!”

“listen! you’ve given me a lot to think about and.. you’re right. i have to tell them.” you cleared your throat. “we both know it’s not going to end well, so i’m saving you the public embarrassment in advance. and i’m quitting my job. as soon as possible.”

vernon’s features softened, his relief evident. you knew that your long term manager would be well off; he had several other clients in the business besides you. still, he seemed puzzled. “are you- are you sure? you’re giving up a lot, y/n. are you sure it’s worth it?”

as you reflected on your time as a model, the benefits and perks that you were lucky enough to receive, along with the cons on the other side of it- you realized you’d never been more confident in your decision before. you were young, there was plenty of time for you to choose a more meaningful path. you nodded, leaving enough cash on the table to pay for the two sandwiches before standing up.

“it’s definitely worth it,” you beamed. “i’ve gotta go make a phone call.”

———————————————

“it’s.. definitely risky.” joshua had his reservations about your proposal. he knew what your mother was like thanks to the stories you’d told him personally, which was why he found it all so.. commendable.

“what part of our relationship hasn’t been risky?” you countered while leaning into his chest. he’d finally taken you up on your invitation. the two of you were relaxing on your balcony, cuddling on the swing while soaking up the vanishing sunlight. you hadn’t let him leave your sight since the minute he walked through your front door; you wanted to take full advantage of his time there.

“true,” joshua let out an infectious laugh and the skin near his eyes crinkled, just like it did every time he smiled. truthfully, it was a trait of his that you’d found endearing since the moment you met him. his voice was hushed as his gaze shifted from the sunset ahead to you and he lifted a hand to cup your cheek. “is this really what you want?”

“more than anything.” you immediately reached for his free hand, both of yours holding it close to your heart. there was nothing but certainty in your tone as you spoke, the look of determination in your eyes only solidifying it. “maybe i can go back to school or something. my schedule’s clearing up pretty soon.”

you felt the gentle rumble in his chest as he chuckled, “you know i’ll take care of us. i wasn’t just saying that.”

“i know. but- i really need to do this. i feel like i’ve been missing out on so much.” you played with the rings adorning his fingers rather than meeting his eyes. your confession left you feeling bashful, even if you weren’t quite sure why. “but not anymore. i love you joshua, and i don’t want to have to live in fear anymore. i just want..you.”

those three beautiful words stood out to joshua and caused him to grin like a fool. all this time, it was as if the two of you knew fully well that you were in love and therefore, never felt the need to state it directly. your affection towards each other was unspoken at times, voicing itself in many more ways than one; stolen kisses behind curtains, brushing hands together in intimate discretion, risking discovery by supporting each other at premieres or press conferences.

but now.. those three words were out in the air, never to be taken back. not that either of you would dare to if you were given the opportunity, of course. personally, joshua felt as if he could shout it from the rooftops without a care in the world. “say that again,” he whispered to you.

you were quick to reply, your voice hushed to match his tone, “i love you.”

“i love you too.” as if to reiterate his words, he pressed his lips against yours just as the sun began to take refuge behind the large palm trees. it felt beautiful, picturesque, like a scene from one of his movies.

the rest of the night, you two never left each other’s embrace for more than a single minute, knowing that even if your parents lashed out at both of you, even if you were sure to face public scrutiny and humiliation, even if you were at risk for losing everything you’d worked so hard to build, you had each other. you would never part ways with each other again, and that was truly all that mattered.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x you #joshua hong fluff #i’m sorry if it’s bad #i’ve been working on this for way too long #it might seem a bit rushed lol #kim mingyu #hong jisoo #svt x reader #svt x you #joshua hong fanfic #seventeen au

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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago

Text

READ PART 1 FIRST!

turn to your right

Turning to your right, you don’t think anything particularly interesting is going to happen. It appears to be just a path leading towards another clearing in the woods, but the random sheets of metal intrigue you. Has someone been working on something here? You want to know what is going on. Why are you here? Why have you been sent here, and why did you pick this way?

The leaves crunch underneath your boots, ensuring that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak around if you tried. Sharp brambles like knives are obscuring your vision, and you attempt to push them out the way, only finding that it leaves tiny slashes up the skin of your arms. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as though it hurts - the only sign that anything had happened is the sight of crimson blood blooming on your skin. Sighing, you continue on, hoping to finally reach something at the end of the winding path.

It isn’t even a path, so to speak - you’re not sure you’re actually going to end up anywhere with the lack of markings on the road.

Until you notice the tinkering, clanging noises are getting louder. There’s a light at the end of the path, glowing yet flickering in an unstable manner and you wince, pushing the brambles out of the way so that you can finally exit the route you’d chosen.

You gasp at what you see, hand slapping over your mouth to quiet your noise. There’s an alien standing there, pale blue antennas poking out of dark navy hair. He’s got his back to you, clad in a white shirt and baggy white trousers. You wonder how they’re so immaculate considering he seems to have been here for so long, and he’s working on what looks to be a spaceship. You’d never seen one up close before, and you stand in awe, eyes fixated on the alien. He looks weirdly human, from what you can see - tinkering away with a tiny hammer, and his cheeks puffing out in frustration when you see him from the side. His skin is light blue and looks to be glimmering, twinkling every so often when the moonlight bounces off of the spaceship just right.

You were sure he didn’t know what he was doing, and you wanted to help, for some weird reason - but your mouth was moving and you were saying something before you could even process what it was. “Alien. You’re a fucking alien.”

“Alien?!” The man - thing? - jumps, turning to look at you. His voice is deep, and his eyes are completely pitch black - even the area that would normally be white. His legs are quivering where he’s sat on the ship. He squeals, pointing at you. “Don’t just stand there! Where’s the alien?!”

You blink, letting out a shocked laugh. “You. You’re an alien.”

He looks down at his skin, still clutching the tiny hammer in one hand. He looks at the spaceship, then turns back to you, lips twitching with a smile. “Well, yes. I thought you meant there was another one. Hey, have you seen my dog?”

“Your… dog?” You question, head tilting to the side. The alien nods, motioning at a metal food bowl on the floor. It reads ‘Fluffy’, in all capitals, and the F’s have all been written backwards. It looks to be written in shaky Sharpie. You try to suppress a smile.

“I haven’t seen him for a while,” He explains, frowning at the bowl. “He’s black and slimy, bigger than me. His name is Fluffy, and he’s the best dog, but I’m not sure he likes me that much.”

“Oh,” You say intelligently. “I’ll let you know if I find him. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jisung,” He finally hops off of the top of his spaceship, walking towards you with an outstretched hand. He’s taller than you, but not by much - and he’s strikingly beautiful. His skin does glimmer, especially when he’s closer to you. “Do you wanna see my spaceship?”

You nod. Was that an euphemism? You guess you’ll just have to find out, and Jisung leads you into his spaceship. It looks rather small from outside, and you obediently duck through the door when he does before you. It’s definitely bigger on the inside, random lights glinting on a control panel in front of a large glass window. Jisung looks proud, a broad smile on his face. You make sure to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at appropriate moments, nodding in approval at the scenery.

It is kind of uncanny, everything a bright gleaming white and almost blinding you. He even has a bed in here, you note, large and four-poster with white sheets tucked neatly in the corners. It is so clean.

“How long have you been here?” You ask, and his antennas twitch in response. He frowns, absentmindedly scratching his arm with his hand.

“I’m not sure,” He admits, blinking around at the walls. His eyes lock on a stack of board games in the corner, next to a stack of tins of dog food. How does he even have that? “I crashed here, and I’ve had to remake my spaceship. It’s kind of strange. It’s Earth, but… it’s not. It’s not Earth. How did you end up here?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. I woke up here, and my watch broke hours ago. I don’t really know where I am or how to get out, if I’m honest.”

Jisung stalks towards his bed, flopping on his back. His toes curl in his boots, and he kicks them off with a huff, revealing his feet clad in pristine white socks. He blinks, leaning up to look at you. He’s weirdly human for an alien, if you ignore the blue skin and the antennas that keep twitching every time you speak.

“It’s not too bad here,” He says, hand fiddling with the white duvet. “I have a dog! There’s a fairy here, too. He’s really pretty, but- but you’re prettier.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise. If he wasn’t blue, you’d be able to see a blush on his cheeks. His antennas droop regardless, his bottom lip pouting as he avoids eye contact with you. In a moment of realisation, you shove your boots off too, walking over to join him on the bed.

“I’ve never seen an alien before,” You admit, pulling your knees up to your chest. Jisung mirrors you, pulling himself up onto his lap to stare into your eyes. They’re quivering, uncertain. “I think you’re pretty cool. You’re blue.”

“We all are,” Jisung huffs, but he stretches his arms out nonetheless to let you see his skin. It’s as if there’s a million lines of computer code within him, making up his entire being - yet he’s still so human. He’s so much like you, uncertain and a little shy but still talking a bit too much. “My race is, anyway. I’ve never seen a human before.”

You copy him, stretching your bare arms out. His fingers run over your skin tentatively, raising goosebumps in their wake and you bristle when he touches over the cuts on your skin. He hums, running his thumb over one.

“You’re cool,” He blurts, and then he’s holding your hand. He’s looking at you with earnest, black eyes wide. “Humans are pretty cool. I think so, at least. You’re really pretty. You’re even prettier than the fairy boy.”

You giggle, clutching his hand tighter. “You’re pretty too, Jisung. You’re very handsome. Do you not have a sweet alien girlfriend back home?”

Jisung shakes his head adamantly, creeping closer to you. “Nope. I have no one back home, apart from my parents. It’s been just me since I crashed here.”

“It must have been lonely,” You murmur. Are you… hitting on him right now? You are. You so are, and he’s going along with it, judging by the way his lips are slightly parted. His teeth are perfect, jutting out just a little but so white and straight. His antennas stick stark upright. You decide to continue, wanting to see more of his shocked expressions. “It must have been so lonely, Jisung. How did you manage all on your own?”

“I have my hand,” He blurts, blinking down at where his hand is still wrapped around yours. “Unless that’s not what you meant.”

“It is what I meant,” You coo, running your thumb over the back of his hand. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re climbing into his lap, and he’s letting you. His hands move to your waist, eyes blinking up at you with shock. He’s so cute like this, puffy cheeks and wet, parted lips. “Do you miss having sex, Jisung?”

“I- I guess, I d’no,” His chest is heaving. He’s surprised, but he enjoys it, judging by the way his fingernails are digging into your skin through your shirt. “It does get hard, just touching myself all the time. Especially since - okay, don’t freak out. Please don’t freak out.”

You hum, running your fingernails over his antennas. He shivers with the touches. Are they sensitive? “I’m not going to freak out, baby. Tell me.”

“I have two dicks,” He whimpers when you pinch the tip of his right antenna between two fingers. He… what? It’s your turn to part your lips, a shocked breath of air coming out of you. You’re wet just from knowing that, alarmingly so. “It’s- it’s an alien thing, higher chance of breeding or whatever. So it goes in both holes, and they’re lubed, so-”

“Show me,” You command, shifting off of his lap. Jisung gasps.

“Just- just like that? You wanna see? Please, it’s gonna freak you out-”

“Jisung,” You insist, and he quivers. He likes that. He shifts backwards, and then he pulls his trousers down. He’s not wearing underwear, you notice, and he definitely does have two dicks. His first length is shorter, thicker and veinier, perfectly crafted to fit inside your pussy and drive you insane. The second one beneath the first is longer, still quite thick but not matching the first one, curved deliciously to fit inside of your asshole. His balls are heavy beneath them both, no doubt holding a lot of cum to ensure he bred you full. They’re both darker than the rest of him, a deeper blue like an ocean, entrancing to your eyes. You manage to drag your gaze away from the thick mushroom heads of his cocks for long enough to gauge his expression.

“You think it’s weird, right?” He’s embarrassed, but his erection - erections haven’t gotten a slight bit softer, still rock hard against his pubic bone.

“Absolutely not,” You say, licking your lips. They’re dry all of a sudden. Jisung turns to you, laying flat against the bed with his dicks still out, so hard and upright. You needed them. “I don’t think it’s weird. I’m so wet right now, baby, I need to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Jisung whimpers, nodding, and then you’re straddling him again. You ensure you’re towards his thighs more, trying not to interfere with either of his erections just yet. He leans up on his forearms, and the movement results in him being a mere few inches away from you. His lips are pursed, as if he’s considering something, mind running amok.

You kiss him before he can think about whatever it is too much. His lips are soft, supple and a darker shade of blue against yours. He moans into the kiss, deep and gravelly, and your hands move to his hair again. Brushing over his antennas makes him shift underneath you, and then he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It’s dirty, wet and messy against your lips and you keen wildly against him, sucking his tongue between your lips.

He pulls away, his antennas drooping against your fingers. “I don’t just wanna kiss you. I wanna see you, please, please, let me see you. I’m not above begging, you know!”

He’s so earnest it makes you laugh, and you slip your t-shirt over your head. Jisung stares at your chest with wild, wide eyes, his erections jerking beneath your body. You’re quick to get rid of your bra too, exposing your dusky, hard nipples to the cold air inside the spaceship.

You jolt when Jisung sucks one of your nipples into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass. He’s moving your hips, you realise, grinding you into the lower, longer erection. It makes you whimper, his tongue swirling around your nipple like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He even moans into your skin, hands splaying across your asscheeks and gripping into the skin tightly.

“I need you,” He moans, teeth catching your nipple just slightly. “I need you so bad, you’re so pretty. Such a pretty human, please. My cocks are so fucking hard for you, baby.”

“I can see,” You muse, moving your hands from his hair to wrap both fists around them, one in each hand. Squeezing them permits drops of precum onto your fingers, and he throws his head back, groaning. “I need you too. I need you, Jisung. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

You’re not lying. He really is beautiful, his skin tender and glittering like sequins beneath your eyes. He grunts at your words, letting out a few exhales at the feeling of your hands wrapped around him. Before you know it, he’s swatting your hand away, flipping you over and kissing down your body.

Jisung’s tongue runs down your nipples once again, and then his hands are making quick work of your trousers. He pops the button out of the clasp, yanking the zipper down and almost ripping them in the process of getting them off of your legs. Your underwear is revealed then, a simple cotton with a pale pink bow at the top centre, but Jisung’s eyes tell you he honestly believes you hung the damn moon.

His antennas are stiff and upright when he finally presses his face to your centre, inhaling deeply. He whines, his tongue darting out to lick over the fabric. You let your thighs fall apart, running one hand through his soft, dark navy hair. He’s so pretty between your legs like that.

“You’re ovulating,” He murmurs, running one thumb over your clothed clit. “You’re fertile. It always tastes so much better when the pussy’s fertile.”

“Eaten a lot of pussy, Sungie?” You quip, but he simply smiles, teeth jutting out from his lips and eyes forming crescent moons.

“I’ll show you and you can guess the answer,” he suggests, and you nod, grinning. His thumbs hook into your underwear, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to wherever he threw your trousers. You lean back, preparing yourself against the sheets and staring at the crisp white ceiling.

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his tongue. Jisung licks over your clit, quick little kitten licks that make you keen. His tongue is pointed, almost sharp against your folds. He only moans at your reaction, thumbs moving to part your folds and reveal your hole. You’re almost dripping from the sight of his two cocks, and Jisung licks up the wetness you’ve accumulated, tongue dipping into your hole just slightly.

“That’s it, that’s it,” You babble, hands locking into his hair. He whimpers into your folds at the praise, his body almost vibrating in between your legs as he licks up your core. He’s messy, imprecise, but you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Oh, baby, you’re so good at that.”

“Mmhm,” Jisung mumbles, muffled by your folds. The vibrations send shocks through you, leaving your toes curling in your socks. He pulls your legs up by your upper thighs, and then your legs are on his shoulders while he eats you out, fully pliant against his bed for him. You moan in response, pushing your hips up to his face. His hands are gentle as they hold your hips in place, his tongue exploring every inch of you. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart in his mouth, and Jisung's movements become more urgent.

He pulls away all of a sudden, but he’s quick to slide two slender digits inside of you, curling them up towards a spot you never even knew you had. “Do you think you’ll cum for me, baby? Please? For me?”

“Yes,” You whine, nodding. “Yes, yes, I will, suck my clit again, please-”

You’re cut off by your own wail when he takes your clit between his lips again, tongue tapping on the button underneath your clitoral hood. It’s much more sensitive like this, and combined with his fingers curling against that spot inside you… well, you’re done for. You cum with a shake and a high pitched, embarrassing moan, fingers digging into Jisung’s scalp almost painfully. He moans against your clit anyway, eyes looking impossibly darker while you come apart in his mouth, grinding your hips against his tongue.

He pulls his fingers out when you’ve finished, one hand settling on your hips to soothe you through the aftershocks. He sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and leaving him looking a cool hue of shiny blue.

“Mm, so sweet. I was right,” He looks like the cat who got the cream, and you groan, playfully kicking his shoulder. He blinks down at you and then he’s gasping, eyes fixated on something below your pussy. “I didn’t eat your ass! I didn’t even prep it. Okay, you can only take one dick today or-”

You grab him by the wrists, yanking him over you. He squeals in shock before he’s sighing at the feeling of his cockhead running through your pussy lips. He’s so easily distracted. It’s cute. “Push it in. I don’t care, you said they’re lubed. I want both of them.”

Jisung gasps, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt. Baby, it’ll hurt you, and I never wanna hurt you.”

“Put them both in, Jisung, or I’m not giving you anything,” You demand, and then you’re pulling your legs up to your chest. The position has both slick cockheads pressing at your holes, and he whimpers before he’s nodding impatiently. You watch as he rips his t-shirt off of his upper body by the back collar, throwing it aside. His shoulders are broad, seamlessly transitioning into a tiny, slender waist and toned biceps. He positions your knees on his shoulders, seemingly ignoring your ogling at his body. Oh. It’ll be deep like this. Almost like he’s trying to-

“I wanna breed you like this,” Jisung whimpers, using one hand to position his first cock at your pussy. “Can I? Please, baby, please. Lemme breed you, let me, please, I’ve been good makin’ you cum, and-”

“Breed me,” You sigh, eyes almost rolling back into your head. He nods, and then his cock is pushing inside you, raw and unprotected. The first shaft is veiny, thick against your already fluttering walls. Before you have a chance to adjust, his second cock breaches against your asshole. The slide is lubed like he said it would be, but the stretch still makes you suck in a sharp breath of air. You can’t deny it feels fucking amazing.

“Baby. Oh, my baby, my baby,” He’s babbling, hips rocking steadily against yours. It is deep like this, with your knees pushed up on his shoulders, and it looks like you’re not the only one that’s finding it hard to handle. “You’re so tight, fuckin’- shit, shit, baby, can I move? Can I fuck you properly, please, I’m gonna fucking blow.”

“Do all aliens have such dirty mouths?” You giggle, fingers digging into the sheets. Jisung huffs, antennas drooping with embarrassment. He’s trying so hard to stop moving his hips, trying to wait for the green light, and you feel bad for him. “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Be a good boy.”

Jisung gasps, nodding, and then he’s fucking you. He’s fucking into you like a rabbit, hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. You’re not faring any better. He’s so good at this, so good at using his hips to please you, and you can’t handle the sensation of being full like this. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to fuck anyone else again, man or woman.

His cocks are both thick inside you, and you feel so stretched. The lubed appendages ensure that the spaceship is now being filled with wet, slick noises upon every thrust, and Jisung’s whining against your neck, his head dropping into the crook of your skin.

“‘S so good, so good,” Jisung’s voice is high pitched, and you coo, your own breath shaky when you run your fingers over his antennas again. You feel his cocks twitch inside you at the sensation, against the deepest spots inside of you. “I don’t think I’m gonna last, I w’na cum inside so bad, please, baby, please.”

You whine, canting your hips up into his. “I’m not gonna last long, Sungie, just a bit more. I promise, baby, just a bit more, can you hang on for me?”

Jisung nods, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips move mindlessly. His hips are pressing against yours with each thrust, and you can feel every inch of his hard erections inside of you. You moan in pleasure as he continues to move in and out of you, his pace increasing with each thrust.

“Baby, baby, please. Cum for me, cum for your baby boy, please,” His breathing is ragged and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart for him for the second time, no doubt about to soak his cocks thoroughly. You both gasp and moan in unison, your hands gripping Jisung’s biceps and your ass pushing back against his hips. You feel like you're about to fall apart, and Jisung is loving every moment of it, judging by the blissed out grin on his face.

The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel yourself reaching your second orgasm, toes curling in your socks. You cum with a full body quiver, pussy clenching impossibly tighter around his cocks and then Jisung wails, his head dropping closer to you and nipping at your skin.

“G’na- gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” He’s babbling, letting out tiny little ‘ah’s with every thrust and making you gasp at the overstimulation. After half a dozen more movements, his hips finally still, and then he’s filling you up. The amount of his cum shocks you, oozing and gushing out of both of your tight holes and staining his pristine white sheets. It spills out around his cocks, and he looks down at your core, groaning at the sight. He pulls out just to slap his cockhead on your clit once, smearing the cum around, and then he collapses by your side.

You let him pull you into his chest, his lips kissing your hairline chastely. Your own hand moves to run your fingernails down his chest. “That was so good. You are fuckin’ amazing, so pretty.”

“What now?” You huff, head pressed against his pecs. You’re entranced by drawing shapes on his skin, the way the hearts you draw turn white before they fade away.

“Well, forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… how would you like to come home with me?”

You gasp, leaning up to look at him. He’s biting his lip nervously. “Jisung, this spaceship works?!”

Jisung scoffs. “Yeah! I haven’t just been working on it for nothing, baby. It’s fully functional.”

“You’re kidding me,” You giggle, slapping his chest playfully. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

wc: 3.9k

sw: alien jisung who has two cocks, cum, breeding kink, oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, sub jisung maybe

a/n: ITS HEREEEE I HOPE UR ALL SURPRISED N GO CRAZY AND ALSO INSANE <3 - juno

#hyunsvngbinitober !#han jisung smut #han jisung fic #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x reader #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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mysteryshoptls · 7 months ago

Text

R Ace Trappola - Luxe Couture Vignette

"My perception just lagged hard"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Ace: Alright, it's finally the free roam time I've been waiting for! That brand-name shop looks good, and so does that one… But I think I'll have to pass on 'em!

Azul: Oh? You don't plan on visiting those stores?

Ace: I mean, I'm not anywhere close to being able to afford all those high-brand clothes. But you already knew that when you asked, right, Azul-senpai?

Ace: But it's not like I've completely given up on doing any shopping, though. I'm thinkin' about checkin' out some of the secondary line shops.

Azul: Ah, yes, there are many high-end brands that are developing products aimed at the broader marked instead of just their main audience.

Ace: Yeah, yeah. I did some digging after heading back to the hotel yesterday, and…

Ace: Looks to me like those secondary line shops have fits that suit me better.

Azul: Hm. And what sort of look do you tend to like, Ace-san?

Ace: I guess my likes reflect my usual getup. I dress pretty casual.

Ace: I like clothes that are easy to move around in, and aren't really high-maintenance. And I can't really deal with looks that are too stiff.

Ace: I'd probably say that most of my outfits have a splash of the current trends, but also have a bit of an edge to it.

Ace: On the other hand, I can only imagine you wearing pretty stiff and formal stuff.

Azul: I suppose. Of course, it does depend on the time and occasion.

Ace: Maaan, I know you got some real good sense about these things. It'd be greaaat if you could tag along and pick out some clothes for me～

Azul: Well, let me see… I do have some interest in how those secondary line brands develop their merchandise.

Azul: There's no reason for me to not join you as I observe their establishments. HOWEVER! You will, of course, be paying for yourself.

Ace: Tch. Guess he saw right through me. Suuucks.

Ace: Oh well, let's go, then.

Ace: Hmmm, where's the store I was checking out yesterday…? Oh, found it. Azul-senpai, it's over here.

Azul: The store does seem to have a grand appearance, yes… But I can see that the designs here are rather different from the signature line.

Ace: Looks pretty good, huh? Let's go in!

Ace: Woah, check out this stylish sweater! The shape's pretty good, and I bet it'd work with all sorts of outfits. And the price…

Ace: ONLY 30,000 MADOL [300 Thaumarks]! THAT'S SO CHEAP!

Azul: Calm yourself, Ace-san. Is 30,000 Madol for one sweater considered cheap to you?

Ace: ACK, WAIT, NO, THAT'S NOT CHEAP! WHEW, THAT WAS CLOSE～

Ace: After seeing all those Luxe prices set for the rich and famous, I guess my perception just lagged hard.

Ace: But I think I should be able to buy at least one thing from this shop with my pocket money.

Ace: Azul-senpai, I'm countin' on you to pick out something nice for me.

Azul: What do you think about that black blazer on the mannequin over there? It has a stunning silhouette.

Ace: Ooh, you're right. It's got a pretty slender and sleek profile!

Azul: Underneath it… How about this collared white shirt? It would probably look good with a striped tie, as well.

Azul: If you combine it with these center-pressed slacks and leather shoes, you would do well in any establishment that requires a dress code.

Ace: Cool, I woulda expected nothing less from something you've selected, Azul-senpai. Pretty formal and mature.

Ace: It's a pretty different look than what I normally would go for, but I guess I should at least give it a try.

Azul: I am pleased you like it.

Ace: If I were to buy everything that you chose for me… Urgh, that's over 100,000 Madol [1,000 Thaumarks]!

Azul: Well, this might be a secondary line, but it is still a brand-named shop.

Ace: Hrrrngh, maybe I'll do just this blazer… It's not really something I already own or anything.

Ace: And black pretty much goes with anything, so it makes it easy to come up with outfits…

Ace: It's a shorter style, too, so it might actually go for a casual look with my hoody and jeans.

Azul: That is a combination that hadn't even crossed my mind… Yet, I agree, I'm sure it would suit you immensely.

Ace: So that look would be like a combination of our two fashion senses, then.

Ace: If it's just the blazer, I think I could just barely afford it, but… My funds when I return to campus'll be pretty low…

Ace: Ooh, I have an idea! Can you let me work some hours at the Mostro Lounge?

Ace: I can be pretty good with my hands. You've seen that before, right, Azul-senpai?

Azul: Yes, of course. And we have a mountain load of tasks to be done. I look forward to your wonderful hard work, Ace-san.

Ace: …Shoot. Did I just put myself up for something I shouldn't have?

Ace: Uhhh… Hope you'll go easy on me～

Requested by @ordinaryanon.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #azul ashengrotto #twst ace #twst azul #twst translation #twst tapis rouge

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harufluff · 1 year ago

Text

types of hugs with txt

warnings - none

genre - fluff, txt x gn!reader, established or unestablished relationship au

wc - 0.7k

CHOI SOOBIN

the type of hugs that just engulf you. the hugs that feel just so comforting so much so that you want to cry. the hugs that only come from your loved ones.

soobin’s hugs are the types that you long for in the morning. straight out of bed, and to the kitchen, you see him standing there in a simple white shirt and sweatpants. he looks so soft and cuddly.

you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your forehead on his back. you feel him flinch a bit just at the surprise. he turns around slowly and hugs you back.

‘g’mornin, love.’

CHOI YEONJUN

the type of hugs that not only make you feel safe, but also at home. the type of hugs that feel like it’s straight out of a romcom tv show. his hugs feel like you’re the only ones in the world.

yeonjun’s hugs are like the ones that you can’t help but smile in. the types of hugs that you can be coming back from a date at a restaurant and are the most comforting.

you walk back to the car, hand in hand with each other smiling in the moonlight. he stops walking and started staring up at the moon.

you questioned why he stopped, until he pulled you into his embrace and tucked your head into his neck. it was peaceful. and despite not being anywhere near home, it was home to you.

‘tonight was nice. thank you, babe.’

CHOI BEOMGYU

the types of hugs that have so much warmth. the hugs that quite literally feel like a human heater. the kind of hugs that feel like a summer afternoon spent in pajamas.

beomgyu’s hugs we’re like hugging a teddy bear. soft and fluffy almost as if hugging a cloud. his hugs are those shared best in a comfy spot on the coach.

not doing anything for any specific reason at all. just basking in each others presence. guy’s arms warped around your torso with the back of your head lying against his broad chest.

no need for any words in moments like these. everything that you would need to say he knows just through that fact that you’re there.

no need for any words maybe except for…

‘i wish we could stay like this forever.’

KANG TAEHYUN

the types of hugs that you want to be impossibly closer. the types of hugs that can only be expressed by yourselves. the kind of hugs that you never want to end. his hugs are the type that you can nuzzle your nose into.

hyun had the hugs of a friendly giant. although it doesn’t matter whatever the physical aspects are. his embraces have more love than any giants.

when taehyun comes back from the gym, tired and sort of sweaty still, is when you feel he looks most huggable. right when he walks into the house he drops his bag on the floor.

obviously you see this as your cue to run up to him and give him a big hug. his arms stay wide open until you come into his embrace.

you rub your nose into his chest which causes him to chuckle. you peek up at him and give him a small smile in which he returns happily.

‘glad to see me?’

HUENING KAI

the types of hugs that long conversations can take place in. hugs that are perfect for late night talks in the dark. the kind of hugs that give you the feeling you’re in the right place.

kai’s hugs are always available to you. no matter the circumstances, if you need a hug he will give it to you.

on nights like these where you come home from your long day just tired and worn out, are when he naturally knows that you need some cuddles.

he drags you to bed when you’re done getting ready to sleep and holds you in his arms. your arms hook onto his and his leg is thrown over your legs.

you’re head faces up at him as you talk about your day. venting about any little thing. you know in your heart that he will always be there for you when you come home.

‘tell me everything. i’m listening i promise’

©️harufluff 2023

a/n - i love kai 🫤🫤

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moscnios · 8 months ago

Text

★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.

── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you

── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?

── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.

── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.

── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.

── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.

── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.

── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.

── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.

── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.

── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?

── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.

── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?

── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.

── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.

── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.

── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.

── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.

── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.

── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.

── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”

── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.

── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.

── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”

── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.

── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.

── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.

── “like this, miss?”

── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.

── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.

── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.

── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.

── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.

── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.

── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.

MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.#my app started messing up while i was writing this….they don’t want yall to see this #CRAZY #being silenced for being *****#one piece #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace oneshots #ace scenarios #ace imagines #ace headcanons #ace smut #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece smut

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year ago

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Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine

AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).

Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.

Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.

To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?

You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.

Idiot. Of course he was.

"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.

His work had always been the love of his life.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.

Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.

His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.

Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.

But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.

Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.

From then, it was bliss.

His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.

The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.

Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.

Two weeks.

Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.

However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.

But god, it's just so easy.

"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."

"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."

"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.

"I'm not in love-"

You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.

"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.

"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.

"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."

Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.

"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.

"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."

The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.

It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.

Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.

You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.

You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.

Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.

You: I'm going on a date on Friday.

Seokmin is a nice guy.

No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.

Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.

It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.

So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.

You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.

Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.

"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.

"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.

Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.

"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.

"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.

"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.

Now is not the time.

"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.

Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.

Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.

The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.

"What're you doing here?"

The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.

For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.

"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"

A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.

However, you've never been good at saying no to him.

"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.

Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.

He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.

"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.

"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.

"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"

He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.

"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.

"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."

Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.

His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.

'I just- I just miss you.'

He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.

You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.

"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.

The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.

So you do.

Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.

"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.

Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.

"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.

Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.

"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.

"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.

"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.

He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.

"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."

The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.

"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.

"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.

"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.

"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.

"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.

"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.

His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.

"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.

"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.

"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.

"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.

He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.

You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.

He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.

"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.

"Shua, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.

"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."

You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."

"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."

"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.

"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?

Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.

"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.

"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.

The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.

He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.

"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.

The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.

His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.

"Are you okay?"

Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.

"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.

"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.

"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.

"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.

"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.

"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"

You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.

You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.

"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.

"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."

That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.

"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.

"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.

It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.

"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.

He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.

"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.

Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.

"I love you."

Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.

"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.

"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.

"Joshie-"

"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."

"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.

You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.

"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.

Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

#joshua hong smut #hong jisoo smut #joshua seventeen smut #seventeen joshua smut #seventeen smut #joshua hong x reader smut #seventeen x reader smut #joshua smut #joshua x reader smut #hong jisoo x reader smut

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months ago

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gif by ficsnroses

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 43 all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

43. surprise

A week later John interrupts you in your studio, looking unfairly edible in old jeans and a white henley, wiping his hands with a greasy rag. By his little smile, you can tell he was watching you for a while, before purposely alerting you of his presence.

You don’t mind the interruption. You were just playing around, not feeling particularly inspired, just doodling. It’s funny, how contentment can kill your driving need to make your mark on a canvas, as though you’ve made some devil’s bargain with your muse.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Baaaabe…” It still makes you a little uncomfortable. All the gifts. He presented you with a new phone the other day, programmed with your old number no less, and you are still feeling guilty for some reason, even though he destroyed your last one. Aside from the photos, and the occasional texts with your friends who are usually too busy for you anyway…you hadn’t really missed the device.

You asked if he would like for you to go back to work, feeling like a freeloader–and he laughed at you before kissing you silly, and walking out of the room.

You’d called your mother to check in, and found out she didn’t even realize you were gone longer than you were supposed to be in Italy. Your youngest half-sibling was crying for something on the other end of the line, and she had to let you go after barely saying hello.

You’re not really sure why you even try, anymore, but it left you feeling slightly less sad than usual after talking with her. At least, you’re not alone anymore. You have someone in your life who thinks you irreplaceable. You feel how precious that is, more than ever.

“I think you’re really going to like this one. I’m going to like it too. Come on.”

You sidle up to him, not moving half as quickly as he’d like. You can tell by the way he narrows his eyes down at you, those plush lips pulled in a half-smile. Truth be told…the way this simple white shirt fits across his chest does unmentionable things to you, and you’re not sure you’re in a hurry to go anywhere.

“If you keep looking at me like that, you’re not getting your surprise today,” he playfully threatens.

“I have everything I need right here,” you assure him, running hands over his pecs, completely distracted. He catches your mouth with a groan, strong hands digging into your waist hard enough to bruise.

“I’m going to sling you over my shoulder in five seconds if you don’t come downstairs with me.”

“No!” you giggle, nipping him on the lip and running out the door. He chases you, and you laugh as you sprint down the hall, adrenaline and too much joy to stand singing through your veins. You feel like your heart literally might burst.

He doesn’t catch you until you are down the stairs and halfway across the living room, grabbing you up in his strong arms, bending you over backwards with the fury of his kiss. He grins like a wolf between nipping at your tender flesh, and suddenly you find yourself on the floor, sinking into the plush new area rug with his solid weight on top of you.

“Hey, what about my surprise?” you goad him, laughing as he seems to attempt to bite through your bra strap under your shirt.

“I have a different surprise for you now, kitten,” he growls, unbuttoning your jeans. Your mirth quickly turns to moans, as his long fingers find your wet center, swiping up your juices and circling your clit.

As surprises go–this wasn’t bad at all.

***

You make it to the garage–eventually.

He blindfolded you with a clean dish towel, because it was on hand after the two of you staggered drunkenly like lovesick idiots to the kitchen for a drink of water, after christening John’s new rug. Soft. Good cushion. 10/10. Imagining giving this review to Charlie’s tough-looking clean up crew makes you almost choke on an ice cube.

“John!” you complain when you bang your toe on something. A tool box? Your legs still feel like spaghetti.

“Sorry,” he chortles, not sorry at all, but trying to lead you with more care with arms on your shoulders. You take little steps, trying to track where you are in the garage, but your brain isn’t really functioning yet.

“Hold out your hands.”

You do so, extending them in front of you, groping through the air. Your fingertips brush something rubbery. And…some metal tubing. Your other hand finds the cool curve of…a gas tank. “Are you taking me for a ride?” you ask excitedly, caressing the contours of the leather seat.

“I thought I just did?”

“Pfft,” you tease. “On wheels. I missed the motorcycle.”

“That’s good news. Because you’ve got your own now.”

What?

Now you can’t stop yourself from tearing off the blindfold, finding a sleek beetle-black machine before you. It’s smaller, definitely not John’s bike–but it’s cool.

“It’s a Kawasaki. Just 400cc’s,” he tells you, patting the seat. “Perfect starter bike. When you get the hang of it we’ll get you something with more kick.”

The significance of this particular offering does not escape you. That he would offer you the means of transporting yourself independently speaks of this newborn trust between you–and it means the world to you. He only staggers a little when you suddenly throw your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. When do we start?”

“You’ll have to get your learner’s permit. But I’ll take you to the empty parking lot in town right now, if you want to start learning how to shift.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” His polished ebony eyes are absolutely shining, and you don’t know how it’s possible, that every time you think you couldn’t be happier, this man raises the bar again.

How far the two of you have come.

“One question.”

“Hmm?”

“Where does the samurai sword go?”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #john wick x y/n #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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pretty-toru · 1 year ago

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Prettyyyyy, have you got some (more?) Gojo nsfw hcs? Love ya lots <3

✧ ⎯⎯ 18+ minors dni. love you too nonnie 🤍 these particular ones have been consuming my mind for so long it's time i finally put them into words.

☁️ Satoru adores seeing you in lingerie. So much that he loves spending thousands of dollars on your collection, and enjoys the sensual confidence and playful attitude when you dress up for him. He'll check you out and appreciatively touch you, and instead of unwrapping his lovely present it stays on the entire time he's making love to you.

The embroidered mesh panties get pulled to the side as he teases you with shallow thrusts, your breasts spilling from the cups of the delicate bra when he gently tugs them down to pinch and roll your nipples. You're a delicious sight as you're sprawled beautifully under him that's begging to be worshiped and admired, especially when you're wearing his colors of baby blues and angelic whites.

☁️ He's a bit obsessed with seeing his thick, white cum anywhere on your body. As much as Satoru loves sharing many beautiful and intimate moments from climaxing deep inside you, he switches things up by pulling out and creating a mess on your pussy as he spills his contents along your folds and clit with the heavy drag of his tip to spread it. He thinks it's one of the hottest parts of sex, like a sense of ownership and marking his territory.

He also loves cumming in your mouth with the visual of your parted lips and seeing it shoot on your tongue while taking in your cute expression. Some other personal faves are on your lovely tits and your stomach because you do that thing where you'd collect a taste of him on your fingers just to lick them clean.

☁️ When Satoru upgraded the private automobile that Ijichi drove him around, the assistant manager wondered if his hard work had been recognized or there must be another reason for this gesture. He quickly received his answer when you were accompanying Satoru to a formal social gathering, and to make it more bearable for your lover (because he thinks these events are boring) he'd instruct Ijichi to raise the privacy screen out of respect for your comfort as you're placing gratuitous kisses along his neck.

Even though the view is obscured, there's no secret the clan leader is receiving a blowjob in the backseat of the car from the way his breathing picks up and expressive moans slipping past his lips and he's praising you for being his 'good girl' and to 'keep sucking just like that.' Satoru would have loved seeing you swallow, but he imagines the evening would be much more amusing knowing that his cum's slowly seeping out of you and onto your panties.

☁️ When you return home from a girls' night out, clearly still in an inebriated daze as Satoru makes his way to the front door at the sound of you stumbling in (and acts like he hadn't been waiting for you the entire time). He doesn't mind helping you out of your dress for his comfy t-shirt and getting you ready for bed by washing your makeup off and brushing your teeth for you as you loosely hug his torso because your mind feels like it's swaying back and forth.

Then comes the usual goodnight kisses after he tucks you in, but your lips are soft and lingering as there’s an ache between your legs that only Satoru can fulfill. You're grinding your heat on his thigh, feeling yourself become a little more whiny and needy and bratty when he doesn't immediately fuck you and makes you use your words to tell him exactly how he can help you. Teases you even, because he can't figure out between the two of you who is being taken advantage of tonight. But with you begging so sweetly, he can’t help but give his pretty baby what she wants.

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

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steviewashere · 6 months ago

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Hello, since you're taking prompts, I'm here humbly requesting anything with autistic Steve because I adore him and he's relatable af. Steddie, heavy on the comfort? Other than that, whatever you like, I'll love it :)

Wooo!! I wrote this in like three hours because I was on a roll, so I'm excited to share this!

Rating: Teen and UpCW: Meltdown, Overstimulation (Not That Kind), Some Negative Stimming, Mild Internalized AbleismTags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson

Also on AO3

💕—————💕 His t-shirt was too tight. Had it shrunk in the wash, he initially asked himself. Is this not even mine? But when he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, reflected back at him was the same burgundy colored t-shirt, softly worn and sweat stained, a big graphic stretched across the chest that read: ‘Go Bulls, Go!’. Where this thing came from, he doesn’t remember, but it’s kept him comforted and grounded throughout the years.

Steve had a particular wardrobe. Maybe a bit peculiar to the normal, wandering eye. But to him, his clothes made perfect sense. Every pair of jeans was just a size bigger than he needed them, to give him the extra give. All of his white boxer briefs were made of cotton, because the silky type were always too constricting. His socks had holes and patches on them—worn over and over and over again, folded inside out so that the seams didn’t catch under his toes, but they were the perfect level of softness that he couldn’t find anywhere else. Polos made of cotton. Henleys the same. And his t-shirts, well they were soft, too.

In fact, Steve loves soft things. Loves loose things. Loves expected things.

But now his t-shirt is too tight. The t-shirt he thought of all of the last three days. A t-shirt he thought would look good with his light washed Levi’s—always worn on Thursdays for his day of errands. And looking at the little desktop calendar in his room, it is indeed Thursday. He planned this, but he neither planned nor considered the possibility of a clothing malfunction. His hands go to stretch the hem of the shirt, pluck it away from his body and make the fabric accommodate him. However, at the first tug, the loosely bound hem gives an unmistakable Riiiippp sound.

And…

Great, he thinks, I’ve just ruined one of my favorite shirts.

The t-shirt’s too tight, now ripped, and about to be retired. If only he could find something that works the exact same. Every t-shirt he tries on has some sort of error: too big, too ugly, clashing colors, won’t match the Adidas he picked out last night, stretched on the collar, so on and so forth. It’s Thursday, he thinks, it’s a busy day. Errand day. And now I have nothing to wear. Well, he has something. Not exactly what he planned. But if he doesn’t just put on a damn shirt, he’ll never get through his day, and if he misses out on the free time to take charge of the few errant errands—Steve’ll never get them done or he’ll get them done on a different day, a day where it’s noticeably not Thursday.

He snatches a yellow polo from the back of his closet. Dijon mustard colored. Too scratchy over the downy hairs on his belly. But he doesn’t have the time. Doesn’t have the time to redo his hair—three puffs of hairspray and he’d have to do a fourth, but four doesn’t fit, it’s not right, it’s too different. So he just settles. He’s got a schedule today, and damn the world for already trying to stop him.

Next on his agenda is breakfast.

Which, now that his head is shoved dutifully in the fridge and he’s rummaging around like a dumpster diving raccoon, he remembers that he has to go grocery shopping. Down to three large eggs, a couple bacon strips that didn’t crunch right the last time he ate them, and some cream cheese for bagels he can’t reason eating anymore. But he makes do. Again, settling—always settling, it seems. Because today just can’t go right.

Half-way through the eggs, his brain reminds him that he’s eating eggs. The texture going from wonderfully scrambled, not too soft and not too dry—to awfully rubbery and terribly bland and disgustingly charred. His bacon didn’t crisp right, so he won’t even attempt the few nibbles that lay out on his plate. And the bagel is just…staring up at him like the thousand eyes on every spider of his nightmares. Just the mere thought of cream cheese on his tongue has him wanting to hurl. So he tosses the rest, sets his plate in the sink, and wonders if he’ll even have the time to do the dishes—they aren’t piling by any means, but he didn’t plan this. He wanted cereal this morning. Had thought about the near glass like shards of Cap’n Crunch against the roof of his mouth, drenched in whole fat milk. But, again—You’re an idiot, he’s starting to chastise—he forgot that he needed to do a grocery run today.

Now that his stomach isn’t full and is left completely unsettled. Now that his shirt is scratching him and rough in all the wrong places. Now that more wrongs have been done to him than rights, he can woefully cart himself to the supermarket.

Only to get there and not find a spot. Well, one in the back of the parking lot is barely a spot. The one he hates parking in because he always has to walk two minutes longer than he needs to and sometimes the gravel from the nearby bushes is kicked up and then he steps on it and there’ll be a rock in the sole of his shoe. Like there is today because of course, of all days, there are little jagged gravel rocks for him to step on and feel through the soft, giving out soles of his sneakers. Of course, he thinks—riding over mildly irritated to extremely annoyed within seconds.

The grocery store is hell on earth, if it exists. Lights fluorescent and produce aisle sprinklers going haywire and the coffee grounds too fresh and the chatter of people incessant. Annoying.

He brought a paper slip with him. His chicken scratch identifiable to him. Reading:

Grocery List

Milk White Bread (Wonder, not Kroger) Peanut Butter (Jiff, not Skippy) Laundry Detergent - unscented Cat food (salmon this time, maybe that’ll lure in that stray?) Pasta (Thin spaghetti, penne, and farfalle) Parmesan (Preferably not in the jar, but whatever is cheapest) Potatoes Pop-Tarts? (Eddie’s favorite is brown sugar) Chicken Chicken nuggets

The cart he grabs has a wheel that squeaks the entire time he pushes it. Wonder bread is sold out by the time he gets to the right aisle. They really should say something when they change the layout of the store, he notes bitterly, stuffing a couple loafs of Kroger white bread into his cart. Skippy was the chosen option of the creamy peanut butters, simply because the Jiff wasn’t on sale anymore. On the bright side, salmon wet cat food wasn’t too expensive, even if he could only grab three cans. The Pop-Tarts are forgotten by the time he makes it back to his car. And the first paper bag has a handle that rips off almost immediately. And he forgot to unload the quite substantial amount of baseball supplies he brought to the park the other day—which means the bags are loaded into the backseat and he can only hope and pray that the milk doesn’t topple over and squish the bread or god forbid the laundry detergent somehow gets jostled the wrong way and spills all over his car.

He should’ve made another list of things he needs to remember he’d done. Would’ve been nice, he supposes, if he told his future self that the baseball equipment is still in his trunk. But, alas, here he is playing the same Tears for Fears tape again, listening to the baseballs clink off of each other. Thank god for the Tears for Fears tape, though—it’s the same one he’s listened to nearly every day since he bought it in 1983. At least that’s something to expect. At least it’s something he can rely on after the absolute shitshow he’s had today.

Though, maybe he should’ve expected having to pull over to the shoulder. In a car that chokes and gives up when he’s two-thirds back, half-way through his errands list, and completely done with everything. His hands are tight on the steering wheel. And there’s nothing but silence flowing around him. It’s like drowning, sitting here like this. For once, after everything he’s ever experienced and having so many bad days like this, he doesn’t know what to do.

A part of him, the overwhelmingly obvious part, wants to scream and cry and kick his legs out in front of him. Wants to dig the heels of his feet into the pure asphalt underneath the rubber tires of his stupid, unreliable car. Maybe tear the shirt right off his body and squish himself back to normal. But in the open, bright pool of sunlight, he can do nothing but just sit there. Head against the steering wheel, wet breaths through his nose, and a tightness in his throat that won’t rid even after his fifth swallow. Part of him wants to cry and cry and cry and never stop crying. And it sounds good. Not here, though. Not yet.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there before something knocks on his window. So, he rolls his head over to peer—not at all that gently, with enough force to drive a hard line into his skin. But when he catches sight of the person watching him nearly fall apart, he wants to cry impossibly more.

It’s Eddie. With his big, soft, concerned eyes. Hair tied up into a bun. Coveralls over his body, splattered with oil and other unidentifiable muck. Probably coming back from an early morning shift at the auto shop in town. He can help, maybe. So, Steve cranks down his window. Enough that Eddie can dangle his arms inside and crouch down to get a better looks.

“Stevie,” he softly greets. “You doin’ okay?”

Steve just shrugs. Makes some sort of noncommittal grunt. He works his jaw tight and tense. Mumbles, “Car broke down.”

Eddie hums, acknowledging. He looks over his shoulder briefly, leans to peer into the backseat, and then looks onto Steve again. “I can take a look, if you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t have enough money to get it fixed right now.”

“Baby,” Eddie sighs. His eyes go half-lidded with aching. He reaches out a tentative hand and gently traces his fingers over Steve’s left shoulder. Inching his way to his neck, where knots are surely forming. “It’s free of charge for you, you know that.”

“I just don’t care about it right now,” Steve lies. He cares a great deal. Cares that this has ruined his day. Has ruined the rest of his plans, but if he admits that, he’s sure he’ll cry. He’s not sure why that’s his first reaction: to cry and break things and flap his hands as if ridding the energy. Not sure why it hurts to look Eddie in the eyes right now. Why everything that’s happened has affected him so negatively. Why he’s so particular about his things to do and how he dresses and what he eats. But he knows he’ll cry if he explains.

“Okay,” Eddie mutters. His fingers are soothing over Steve’s shoulder. Light and airy and so soft, it makes Steve want to melt. “How about I drive you back? Help you unpack your groceries? We can leave this baby right here for now and figure out how to get it back to you later, alright?”

Wordlessly, Steve nods, hauls himself out of the driver’s seat, and helps Eddie unpack the bags into the back of his van. That part of him that wants to destroy flares alive inside of him. And he has to restrain himself from chucking the milk carton against the side of the van. But he gets into the passenger seat, silent and seething and mildly overwhelmed.

He gets angrier, though, as soon as Eddie’s radio blares to life. Heavy, obnoxiously loud drums and guitars and vocals fill the space. Instinctively, Steve’s hands shoot to his ears, covering them completely with his palms, digging his fingernails into the skin around them. Garbled, he makes a noise of great discomfort. Grits his teeth together. Squeezes his eyes shut until little speckles of black float in the corners. And hunches into himself, compact and an easy trick to consolidate himself. It doesn’t work, though. Nothing is working in his favor.

“Turn it off, Eddie,” he distantly hears himself snap, “turn it off!”

All at once, the music stops.

Steve sighs, not quite relieved, but easier. It’s still bright. And Eddie’s van smells a little bit like marijuana. And maybe Steve hasn’t smoked that in a little while because the scent is too intense and he never knows how to explain why the smell alone makes him want to scream, but it does and he knows part of that isn’t normal but he doesn’t know how to be normal and now he’s blown his cover all because of something petulant like music being too loud and now Eddie won’t want to date him because he’s being irritable and annoying and—

“Sweetheart?” Eddie’s distant, raspy, soft voice calls. “Is it a migraine? Do you need some water?”

“No,” Steve answers tersely. “Just take me home, Eddie.” He can’t loosen himself from the tight hold, from the squeeze of his eyelids, from the tension in his fingers. But he’s probably making an ass of himself. Probably pissing Eddie off. “Please,” he tacks on, “please take me home, Eddie.”

Nothing else is said as the van rattles and grumbles, pulling away from where Eddie had been parked. There’s no words. No music. Eddie doesn’t fidget. Steve doesn’t think either of them breathe, really. And not only has he pissed Eddie off, but he’s starting to make himself angry. Why couldn’t I just be normal, Steve internally bemoans. I’m being annoying. And he shouldn’t be helping me. And I should’ve just called a tow truck. And I’m making a big deal out of nothing, just like Mom and Dad used to say.

And if he were in a different mindset, he could probably think about why that statement used to feel so miserable. When his parents would dismiss him. Send him to his room. Where he’d sob into his pillows and toss his books across the room and hide inside his closet because it’s the only place that truly felt safe. The closet, where the world couldn’t reach him, and the lights were all dark and he could hum as much as he wanted. Because nobody could find him. And nobody cared. And then he was warm, safe, the version of himself he felt he needed to be.

Eddie parks gently. He helps bring the groceries inside. And then he just stays. As if Steve didn’t just ruin everything. But he looks at him with those concerned eyes again, fidgeting with his fingers because he wants to reach out, about two seconds away from crawling out of his skin. Meanwhile, Steve’s pacing back and forth, squeezing his hands shut, eyes closed, breathing heavy through his nose.

“Is something wrong, Steve?” Eddie finally breaks.

Steve shakes his head quickly. “Long day,” he gets out.

Humming, Eddie takes a step forward. He tilts his head and attempts to make eye contact, but Steve averts his gaze. “Why don’t we sit down for a bit and take a little breather?”

“This is the wrong shirt,” Steve blurts, scratching at his stomach again. The shirt keeps rubbing up and down whenever he bends, whenever he moves for that matter. It’s starchy and too new. Too much, not enough. “And my hair is a mess.”

“It’s not a mess,” Eddie murmurs, “looks fine to me.”

“No. I messed it up this morning. Because I tried on all my shirts.”

“All of them?”

Steve nods hastily. “None of them were right. And that doesn’t make sense, I know, but it’s true. And I put three puffs of hairspray in, needed a fourth, but that’s not right either.” He angles his head up at the ceiling, furls and unfurls his hands a few more times before placing them palm down and flat against his chest. Wants to press down. Hard enough to remember, but not enough to bruise. So he does. Gives in. Allows himself this one good thing, the pressure, the hurt, the sizzling ache. “My breakfast was gross.”

“Yeah? What’d you have, baby?” Eddie gently asks.

“Why—“ Steve gasps, struggling. “Why are you fine with this?”

Taken aback, Eddie makes a soft noise. His eyes widen and he furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m being weird. I—You saw me! I was having like a little mini freakout in my car and then I got all mad at you and I was covering my ears and keeping myself tight and now I’m—Fuck, I’m going insane.

“Everything’s wrong. Everything is so wrong. My whole day is fucking wrong. Schedule got ruined. The clothes I planned out days ago didn’t work. My breakfast was bullshit and the grocery store didn’t have the right bread and Skippy is my least favorite peanut butter, but I had to get it because it was on sale and I forgot to get those Pop-Tarts you like even though I wrote them down on my stupid list but I don’t make enough lists because I forgot about the baseball stuff in my car and it shouldn’t have been there and that’s why I had to put the groceries in the backseat and the only good thing was my Tears for Fears album was still in the radio—And…Fuck.” Steve takes a haltingly loud gasping breath. He slams his hands over his chest, finally giving in to that innate urge he’s carried since he was a kid. Squeezes his eyes shut again, not wanting to see whatever hurt or disappointment or realization washes over Eddie’s face.

He continues, “I left the album in my car. The light’s too bright. I can…I can like hear the wiring in the fixtures. Everything. I’m feeling…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Steve babbles. His hands flex into his shirt, the fabric wrong on his skin. Fingernails scratching at it, trying to tear it off. Wants to crouch down onto his knees and hide between the corner cabinets, nestle himself in a dark place, cry until there’s nothing left to give.

The realization hits him all at once, he needs to get away. To the safe space he created. So he forces himself around Eddie, up the stairs, behind his slammed bedroom door. And he crawls the rest of the way into the deep, far side of his closet. On top of old blankets, underneath too small clothes. Rests his head against the wall. And just…sobs.

His elbows rest upon his knees as he shields his face with his forearms. The sounds of his cries muffled by his own skin. He kicks off his sneakers and digs his feet into the pile of blankets underneath him. Trying to get rid of the itchy, swooping, nauseous ache from inside him. He doesn’t like this part of his bad days. Doesn’t like being alone. To be left with his own mess. But he’s not sure how Eddie will respond, so he figures this is better.

Though, that’s quickly proven wrong when Eddie carefully comes in, announcing himself as the door opens. He stops in front of the closet and crouches down. “Hey, Stevie? Is it alright if I’m in here, baby?”

Steve sniffles. “I…You’re not going to be mean, are you?”

“No, Steve. I promise I’ll be nice. I just…You seem really overwhelmed and I thought maybe I could help you a little bit.” He shuffles forward slightly, opening the closet door from inside. Peeks through the gap. Asks, “How?”

“Could give you a hug? But…I was thinking we could trade shirts first? Mine is pretty soft, kind of loose. I know that’s how you like your t-shirts, baby.” For good measure, he plucks his t-shirt and gestures for Steve’s.

“You’ll look like a dork.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be comfortable. So hand me your shirt and I’ll give you mine.”

Once they’ve exchanged shirts, Steve leaves the closet and sits with Eddie against the side of his bed. Sure, the mattress may be soft and feel nice, but the firm ground under him keeps him anchored. He leans into Eddie’s side, lets him drape an arm over his shoulders, and sighs into the hold. Eddie’s other hand comes up and he traces fingers over Steve’s hairline, featherlight but caring all the same.

“Does this help?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Sorry about…Well, being weird and getting all intense earlier.”

Eddie shrugs. “It wasn’t like that at all, baby. You had a bad day, nothing worked in your favor. I’m not going to fault you for reacting.”

“I was crying in my closet, Eds. That’s hardly normal.”

“I’d cry, too if I had the day you experienced.” He runs his hand between Steve’s shoulder blades, pressing firmly over the tense knots that formed. “Is there anything I can do? Anything on your list that you need help with?”

Steve nuzzles his face into Eddie’s shoulder, cheek squished against the joint. Muffled, he says, “For now, can you just hold me for a while? Nobody’s ever comforted me like this after…Well, you saw what happened. But later, can you help me vacuum and mop?”

“I’ll hold you forever,” Eddie promises. “And I’ll exterminate all the dust bunnies you could ever think to encounter, nothing could make me happier.”

Something in him finally chips away. He’s not quite loose, yet. Not ready to release all the pent up negative energy he’s seemed to catch throughout his day. But he can believe Eddie, for the moment. He rests his head deeper into Eddie’s shoulder, lets himself fall into whatever song Eddie is humming, reaches out and grips firmly to one of Eddie’s hands. Plays with his rings, the smooth metal like a balm on the fatty part of his thumb. He relishes in how Eddie just lets him. Lets him, despite everything.

He can’t quite look Eddie in the eyes, not yet. Can’t force himself off the ground. Can’t quite get rid of that intense, drowning sensation that burbles in his chest—makes him want to cry and breakdown even further. And maybe he can, realistically. But later, he surmises, later he’ll do that, so long as Eddie continues to not mind.

The warmth of their shared bodies is nice. The softness of Eddie’s t-shirt against his skin. The gentle musk left on the collar from whatever cologne Eddie uses. Something with bergamot, a little bit of citrus, something like bourbon. He closes his eyes softly. There’s not much light flooding into his bedroom, just a stripe of golden sunlight from between his curtains, but that’s fine.

For the first time today, something is fine.

“I like this,” Steve quietly admits. “You being here with me through this, I mean.”

Eddie makes an acknowledging hum. “Whenever you need me, I’m a phone call away, sweetheart. I’ll come dashing over, your knight in shining armor, armed with the softest of t-shirts and the most delicious of snacks just for you, baby.”

Steve chuckles. A sound he thought wouldn’t be possible on a day like this. Despite everything, he smiles softly. “I’d love that,” he whispers, “I love you, Eds. Thank you for making me feel a little bit normal.”

“I love you, too, Stevie,” he responds, easy as that. “And I mean it, baby. I love you, I want to hold you and cherish you. You need anything, any time of day, you call me. Bad days are no joke.”

“Mmm,” Steve gently hums. “Maybe I should add cuddle time to my daily routine?”

“Maybe you should,” Eddie agrees. “I think that would be excellent for both of us.”

“Good,” Steve states quietly. He wraps his own arm around Eddie’s waist, pulls him in tighter, and tucks in close. “This feels right.”

💕——–——💕 Taglist: @hotluncheddie

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #autistic steve harrinton #angst and hurt/comfort

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kat-thepoet · 3 months ago

Text

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 18: Under pressure

A/N: Enjoy! :)

Previous chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.1k words

As I looked at my phone, Panic surged through me, but I forced myself to focus. I needed to be ready before they arrived. I quickly stripped out of my dirty clothes and jumped into the shower, scrubbing away the sweat and grime as fast as I could. The hot water did little to calm my nerves, but I couldn't afford to waste time.

Once I was clean, I stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from my hair. With a flick of my wrist, I dried my hair instantly, styling it into light curls that fell softly around my shoulders. Another flick of my wrist, and my clothes changed into something more appropriate for what was coming: blue denim boot-cut jeans, a black shirt, a leather jacket, and low black-and-white Converse. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the adrenaline coursing through me.

I needed to find Erik—he had to know that they were coming. Without wasting another second, I left my room and made my way through the sanctuary, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't know what would happen when they arrived, but I knew I couldn't face it alone. Erik would know what to do, and I had to trust that he could help me navigate whatever was coming next.

As I rushed through the sanctuary, trying to keep my panic in check, I stumbled across Selene. She gave me a curious look as I approached, sensing the urgency in my demeanor.

"Do you know where Erik is?" I asked quickly, my voice barely hiding the edge of anxiety.

Selene raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "He's in his room. Why?"

But I didn't have time to explain. Without another word, I turned on my heel and hurried off in the direction of Erik's room, leaving Selene behind with her unanswered question.

When I reached Erik's door, I didn't hesitate. I pushed it open, ready to tell him everything, but the words died in my throat as I took in the scene before me.

Erik was in the middle of changing, and he was completely naked.

I froze, my eyes widening in shock, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The tension in the air was thick as Erik turned slightly, realizing someone had entered. His expression shifted from surprise to a mix of amusement and calm.

"Violet," he said, his voice steady, despite the situation. He didn't seem fazed at all, though I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

"I—um, I'm sorry," I stammered, quickly averting my eyes. "I didn't mean to—""It's alright," Erik interrupted, his tone gentle, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. "What's wrong?"

I forced myself to focus, pushing past the awkwardness. "They're coming," I blurted out, still looking anywhere but at him. "Logan and the others—they know where I am. They're coming here."

Erik's expression turned serious, and he nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Give me a moment," he said, reaching for his clothes.

I nodded, stepping back out of the room and closing the door behind me to give him some privacy. My heart was still racing, but now for a different reason. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I stood outside Erik's door, the seconds dragging on as I tried to steady my racing heart. The silence felt heavy, and I couldn't help but feel the awkwardness of the situation. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to focus on what needed to be done rather than the fact that I had just walked in on him changing.

Finally, the door opened, and Erik stepped out. He was dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong forearms, and dark blue jeans. The casual outfit did nothing to diminish his commanding presence, and I felt a small wave of relief wash over me just seeing him ready for whatever was coming.

"Let's go," he said simply, his tone all business now. There was no trace of the awkwardness from earlier, just a steady resolve.

I nodded, following him as we moved quickly through the sanctuary, ready to face whatever was about to unfold.

Erik wasted no time. He quickly gathered a group of mutants in the main hall, including Selene, who had already sensed something was happening. The atmosphere was tense, everyone acutely aware that something serious was about to go down.

Erik stood before the group, his expression serious and composed. "The X-Men are on their way here," he began, his voice steady but firm. "We don't know their intentions, but we must be prepared for anything."

The room was silent, every eye focused on him, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Selene stood nearby, her usual calm demeanor now tinged with a readiness for whatever was to come."We need to stay calm," Erik continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Panic will only weaken us. We must be united, and we must be ready. If they come in peace, we will welcome them. But if they come with force, we will defend this sanctuary with everything we have."

A murmur of agreement passed through the room, but the tension was palpable. Everyone understood the stakes, and there was an unspoken agreement that whatever happened next would require their full focus and resolve.

Erik's eyes found mine briefly, a silent reminder that I wasn't alone in this, that we were all in it together. The thought gave me a small measure of comfort, even as the weight of what was coming pressed down on me.

"Prepare yourselves," Erik finished, his voice carrying a note of finality. "We don't know what to expect, but we must be ready for anything."

With that, the group dispersed, everyone moving with purpose, preparing for the unknown that was now looming on the horizon. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was about to unfold.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as we waited. The tension in the air was thick, every sound amplified as we stood on edge, bracing ourselves for what was to come. Then, the sound of engines filled the sky, and I looked up to see a large black jet descending, its sleek form cutting through the air as it approached the sanctuary.

The jet landed in the center of the clearing, the roar of its engines gradually dying down as it settled on the ground. My heart pounded in my chest as the ramp lowered, revealing the figures of the X-Men as they began to disembark.

I stood beside Erik, my breath caught in my throat as I watched them. Hank was the first to step off the jet, his large, blue form unmistakable. He was followed by Scott, his visor gleaming in the light, and then Peter, who seemed almost casual despite the tension in the air. Charles came next, wheeling himself down the ramp with a calm but serious expression. And finally, there was Logan, his eyes scanning the area with a sharp, almost predatory gaze.

They were here, all of them, standing just a few feet away. The sanctuary, which had felt like a safe haven just hours ago, now felt like the stage for a confrontation that could go in any direction.

I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking to Erik. He stood tall and unflinching beside me, his presence a steadying force. But even with him there, I couldn't help the anxiety that twisted in my gut. This was it—the moment I had been dreading. The X-Men were here, and whatever happened next would determine everything.

The X-Men stood before us, a mix of expressions on their faces. Charles's calm gaze met Erik's, a silent communication passing between them. There was a tension in the air, thick and heavy, as if the entire sanctuary was holding its breath, waiting for the first word to be spoken.

Erik took a step forward, his posture strong and commanding, but not hostile. "Charles," he greeted, his voice steady. "You've come a long way."

Charles inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the words. "Erik," he replied, his tone measured. "We've come because we're concerned about Violet."

At the mention of my name, all eyes turned to me. I could feel the weight of their gazes, each one carrying its own emotion—concern, confusion, maybe even a hint of accusation. I shifted slightly, feeling exposed under their scrutiny, but I forced myself to stand tall, to show them that I wasn't backing down.

"We're here to help," Charles continued, his eyes never leaving Erik's. "Violet, please come with us. We can help you regain your memories, help you find the answers you're looking for."

I opened my mouth to respond, but Erik spoke before I could. "She's already found help here," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Violet came to us by her own choice. She's safe here, and she will stay as long as she needs to."

Logan, who had been silent until now, took a step forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "Violet," he said, his voice rough but laced with concern. "You don't have to do this alone. We're here for you."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten, but it also sparked a flicker of frustration. They didn't understand—none of them did. This wasn't about running away; it was about finding control, about stopping a future I couldn't let happen.

"I know you all mean well," I began, my voice stronger than I expected. "But this isn't something you can fix. I'm not the same person I was before. There's something inside me... something dangerous. And I can't go back until I understand it."

Charles's expression softened, and I could see the empathy in his eyes. "Violet, whatever you're going through, you don't have to face it alone. We've all been through our own struggles, and we've always found strength in each other."

Erik's gaze hardened slightly. "And that's exactly why she needs to be here, where she can learn to control that power without the pressure of what you expect of her."

The tension in the air thickened, the divide between the two sides becoming more apparent. I could feel the pull of both worlds—the safety and familiarity of the X-Men, and the newfound purpose and understanding I was beginning to find here with Erik. But I also knew that the choice wasn't as simple as it seemed.

I looked from Charles to Logan, then to Erik, my heart heavy with the weight of the decision before me. "I appreciate everything you've done for me," I said, addressing the X-Men. "But I need to stay here, at least for now. There are things I need to understand about myself, about what I'm capable of."

Logan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Charles simply nodded, though I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "We won't force you," he said gently. "But know that we're here for you, whenever you're ready."

Erik placed a hand on my shoulder, a silent show of support. "She's made her choice," he said, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

The X-Men exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Charles spoke again. "We'll respect your decision, Violet. But remember, our door is always open."

With that, the tension seemed to ease slightly, the immediate threat of conflict dissipating. The X-Men began to retreat toward their jet, though the weight of their departure lingered in the air. Logan was the last to leave, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned away and followed the others.

As the jet's engines roared to life and it lifted off the ground, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The confrontation was over, but the choices I had made felt heavier than ever. I had chosen to stay, to continue down this uncertain path with Erik and the others. But even as the jet disappeared into the sky, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much larger battle—one that would test me in ways I couldn't yet imagine.

As the jet disappeared into the sky, I stood there, the weight of everything that had just happened settling heavily on my shoulders. The confrontation had ended peacefully, but the tension in the air lingered, a reminder that nothing had truly been resolved. The choice I had made felt like a line drawn in the sand—one that I couldn't cross back over, even if I wanted to.Erik's hand remained on my shoulder, a steady presence that grounded me in the moment. I looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt or second-guessing, but all I found was calm resolve. He had accepted my decision, supported it, and now we were both committed to whatever came next.

"You made the right choice," Erik said softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded, though the certainty in his words didn't fully erase the doubts swirling in my mind. "I hope so," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Erik's gaze softened slightly, and he squeezed my shoulder gently before letting go. "Come," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "There's much to be done."

The rest of the mutants who had gathered began to disperse, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity. Selene gave me a small, reassuring nod before heading off with a few others, and I couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude for her quiet support.

As Erik and I walked away from the clearing, my thoughts drifted back to the X-Men. I couldn't ignore the way Logan had looked at me, or the disappointment in Charles's eyes. They hadn't fought me on my decision, but I knew they weren't happy about it. And deep down, a part of me wondered if I was truly doing the right thing by staying here.

"Erik," I began, hesitant but needing to voice the thoughts that were weighing on me. "What if... what if I made a mistake?"

He slowed his pace, turning to look at me with a thoughtful expression. "What do you mean?"

I bit my lip, searching for the right words. "I mean... what if staying here isn't the answer? What if the X-Men are right, and I need their help to figure out what's going on with me?"

Erik studied me for a moment, his eyes piercing but not unkind. "Violet," he said slowly, "the path you're on is not an easy one. There will always be doubts, questions about whether you're making the right choices. But you must trust yourself. You have a power within you that you are only beginning to understand. The X-Men may have good intentions, but they do not see the full picture."

I frowned, trying to process his words. "But what if they're right about some things? What if I can't control this power, and it ends up hurting everyone I care about?"

Erik's expression hardened slightly, and he took a step closer to me, his presence commanding yet reassuring. "That is why you're here, Violet—to learn, to grow, to control that power. I won't lie to you—it will be difficult, and there will be times when you doubt yourself. But you have the strength to face this. You've already shown that by choosing to stay."

His words were firm, and they carried a weight that I couldn't ignore. There was something about the way he spoke, the confidence in his voice, that made me want to believe him. I didn't have all the answers, and I was scared of what might come next, but maybe that was part of the journey—learning to trust myself, even in the face of uncertainty.

"I'll do my best," I said finally, the resolve in my voice surprising even me.

Erik nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's all I ask."We continued walking, the tension from earlier slowly beginning to fade. The sanctuary felt quieter now, more peaceful, and as we made our way back to the main buildings, I found myself feeling a little more at ease. The future was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a sense of direction—a purpose.

And no matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew that I wasn't alone in facing them.

It was time to train. Selene came to my room, her usual calm demeanor tinged with a hint of anticipation. "It's time," she said simply, and I knew what she meant.

A wave of nervousness washed over me, but I tried to push it down. It wasn't that I didn't know how to defend myself—Strucker had made sure of that, forcing me to endure countless hours of brutal training. But it had been a long time since I had faced anything like this. Or at least, I didn't remember if I had. The uncertainty gnawed at me, making me feel slightly off balance.

As I walked into the training area, the first thing I noticed was the size of the room and the number of people spread out across it. There were about fifteen mutants, each focused on their own exercises. Some were sparring on mats, their movements quick and precise, while others practiced their abilities in more controlled environments. The room buzzed with energy, the sounds of grunts, impacts, and the occasional crackle of power filling the air.

I glanced around, taking it all in, when I suddenly noticed something that made me feel even more out of place—everyone was dressed in sweatpants or leggings, their clothes practical and suited for physical activity. A quick look down at myself confirmed that I was wearing the exact opposite: the outfit I had chosen earlier was completely impractical for training.

Without hesitation, I quickly changed my clothes with a flick of my wrist, opting for a pair of black leggings and a simple tank top that allowed for better movement. Feeling a little more prepared, I walked over to where Selene was waiting, her expression unreadable as she observed the others.

Just as I reached her, Erik stepped onto the mat in front of us. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, his attire simple yet functional. His presence commanded attention, and the room seemed to quiet slightly as he stood there, surveying the group with a critical eye.

"We're here to train," Erik began, his voice carrying easily across the room. "Not just to build strength, but to understand your power, to control it, and to push your limits. Each of you has potential, but potential means nothing without discipline."

His words were firm, and I could see the respect in the eyes of those around me. Erik wasn't just a leader; he was someone who had earned his place through years of experience and hard-earned wisdom.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nervous energy buzzing inside me. This was my chance to prove myself, not just to Erik or the others, but to myself. I knew I had the skills buried somewhere deep within me—skills that Strucker had forced me to learn. But now, it was time to take control of them, to use them on my own terms.

As Erik continued to speak, I felt a sense of determination begin to build. This was just the beginning, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After he finished, Erik's gaze settled on me, his expression unreadable. "Come, you'll be first," he said, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

My heart skipped a beat as I stepped forward onto the mat, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Erik stood across from me, his stance relaxed but ready, the intensity in his gaze making it clear that this was no casual exercise.

"We're just going to do physical sparring—no powers," he instructed, his voice calm but firm.I nodded, unable to find my voice. There was something about the way he looked at me, the way he commanded the space, that made my throat tighten. I didn't trust myself to speak, worried that my voice might crack under the pressure.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. This was just sparring, I reminded myself. I had done this before—countless times, in fact. But there was something different about this moment, something that made it feel like more than just a simple exercise. This was a test, and I was determined not to falter.

Erik watched me closely, his eyes sharp and assessing as he took a step forward, signaling the start of the sparring session. I shifted my stance, focusing on his movements, trying to anticipate his first move. The room around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us on the mat.

Erik moved first, a quick jab aimed at testing my reflexes. I dodged, my body reacting on instinct, years of training kicking in automatically. But Erik wasn't going easy on me—his movements were precise, controlled, and relentless. He wasn't holding back, and I knew I couldn't afford to either.

We exchanged blows, each one testing the other's defenses. I could feel the tension in my muscles, the familiar burn of exertion as I matched him, strike for strike. But there was something more to this fight, something that went beyond the physical. It was as if Erik was probing, searching for something deeper within me, pushing me to my limits not just physically but mentally.

Despite the intensity of the fight, there was a strange sense of clarity that settled over me. The nervousness that had gripped me earlier began to fade, replaced by a focused determination. I wasn't just fighting Erik—I was fighting the doubts, the fears, the uncertainty that had plagued me ever since I lost my memories. This was my chance to prove to myself that I was still in control, that I could handle whatever came my way.

Erik pressed forward, his attacks becoming more forceful, more challenging. I met each one head-on, refusing to back down. The room around us blurred as we moved, the sound of our sparring the only thing I could focus on. There was a rhythm to it, a flow that I found myself slipping into, my body responding without hesitation.

But Erik wasn't letting up. He pushed harder, his strikes coming faster, more precise. I was holding my own, but I could feel the strain beginning to take its toll. My breath came in sharp bursts, sweat trickling down my spine as I fought to keep up.

As the sparring session intensified, Erik made a swift move, sweeping his leg under me and knocking me off balance. I hit the mat with a thud, the impact jarring, but before I could react, Erik was on top of me, pinning me down by my wrists. His grip was firm, his body pressing against mine as he held me in place.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. My breath caught in my throat, and the only thing I could focus on was the weight of him above me, the heat radiating from his body, and the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at me. The tension between us was almost suffocating, an electric charge that seemed to fill the space between us.

But I refused to let myself be overpowered. With a burst of strength, I twisted my body, using the momentum to push him off balance. Erik wasn't expecting it, and I managed to flip him onto his back, quickly straddling him and holding him in place, my hands gripping his wrists now.We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing hard, the world around us forgotten. The tension was thick in the air, but I couldn't tell if it was just me feeling it or if Erik sensed it too. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to focus, to keep my grip steady and my mind clear.

Erik's eyes met mine, and for a brief second, I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze—something almost unreadable. But just as quickly, his expression returned to its usual calm and composed state.

"You're stronger than you think," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. There was no trace of anger or frustration in his tone, only a calm acknowledgment of what had just happened. I released his wrists and stood up, offering him a hand to help him up as well. The tension between us lingered, but I quickly pushed it aside, chalking it up to the intensity of the moment.Erik accepted my hand and got to his feet, his gaze never leaving mine. "Good," he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're learning."

I nodded, still trying to steady my breath and my racing thoughts. The sparring session had been more intense than I'd anticipated, but it had also shown me that I still had the strength and control I'd feared I'd lost.

Next Chapter: 19: Echos of confusion

#deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #x men #fanfic #marvel #hugh jackman #logan howlett x reader #wolverine

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