#anyway he managed to not feel me when he was fishing around in there and everyone eventually admitted defeat do i won | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshifighting · 4 months

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— Synopsis: Where Seungcheol is your bestfriend with benefit, and after you agree to go on a date with a guy, Seungcheol has a jealous crisis. And during the date, you realize that going out with this guy was a mistake. — WC: 5.8K — WARNINGS: Smut, slut/whore shamming, angst, argument, jealousy, "you are mine", unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), flashbacks, penetrative sex, fingering, clit stimulation, chocking, hair pulling, cock/face slap, multiple orgasms, creampie, begging, overwhelming, confession and etc.

You apply the final touch of lipstick, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back looks confident, ready, but you can’t ignore Seungcheol’s presence behind you. He’s perched on your couch, arms crossed, a pout that reminds you of a child denied his favorite candy.

"What's going on, Seungcheol?" you ask.

"This guy is no good," he replies, his voice tinged with frustration.

You mumble, "Yes, yes, you've told me plenty of times."

He leans forward, eyes intense. "Then why are you going on this date?"

You stay quiet, fiddling with the makeup on the desk. He presses on, "How long have you been talking to him?"

You don't answer, the silence thick between you. Suddenly, he stands, crossing the room in a few strides. He turns you around, pushing you gently but firmly against the desk. His breath is warm on your neck.

"Why won't you answer me?" he demands softly.

"Seungcheol, it's... complicated," you murmur, avoiding his gaze.

"Complicated?" he echoes, his grip on your shoulders tightening just a bit. "We used to talk about everything. You've always been open about your flings, but now..." He trails off, searching your eyes for answers.

"But now we're fucking, Seungcheol!"

"And? What's your point?"

"Why do you care now?" you retort, your voice tinged with irritation. "When you were fucking with Mingyu's sister, I didn't say anything!"

Seungcheol's shock is evident, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, "We weren't... we weren't fucking!"

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Seungcheol. You think I'm blind? That girl couldn't keep her hands off you."

"We were just... hanging out," he insists, his tone growing louder.

"Hanging out?" you repeat, incredulous. "That's the best excuse you've got?"

Seungcheol's frustration bubbles over, his voice rising to match yours. "What's wrong with you, huh? Why do you care so much about who I'm with?"

"Why do you care so much about who I'm with?" you shoot back, your own anger rising. "You're the one who started this whole thing, remember?"

"And you accept it!" Seungcheol shouts, his frustration boiling over.

You push past him, heading in the direction of the door, but he grabs your arm, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with anger, his jaw clenched tight.

"I can't believe you," he says through gritted teeth. "After everything I said, after all the warnings... you're just going to go through with it anyway?"

"Let go," you snap, trying to wrench your arm free.

He holds on, his voice low and intense. "If this guy does anything, anything at all, you call me. Understand?"

You meet his gaze, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite the argument, despite the tension, you know he means it.

"I hear you."

With that, he releases your arm and turns away, striding out of the apartment without another word. You watch him go, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest.

You sat across from your date, but your mind was elsewhere. The words exchanged with Seungcheol echoed in your head, drowning out any attempt at conversation. It was like you were just there physically, your mind a million miles away. – a date that meant nothing to you.

He tried to make small talk, but you could barely muster a response. Every smile felt forced, every laugh hollow. You couldn't enjoy the date, not when the weight of the argument with Seungcheol still hung heavy in your mind.

When your phone buzzes with a message from Seungcheol, you jump, almost knocking over your drink. You quickly glance at the screen, your heart skipping a beat when you see his name.

"Are you home already?" the message reads.

You glanced at the time, realizing that it had been hours since you left the date early, claiming that you needed to go home. With a heavy sigh, you typed out a response: "Yes, I'm home."

After those messages, Seungcheol practically disappeared. Usually, your weekends were marked by his presence—his calls, his texts, him showing up at your front door with that familiar, easy smile. But this weekend, there was nothing. Not a single word from him.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, the silence was deafening. You took a long bath, trying to relax, but the empty space where Seungcheol's presence used to be was impossible to ignore. As you lay on your bed, you felt the temptation to pick up your phone and text him, just to break the silence.

The truth was, now that he wasn't around, everything seemed to remind you of him. The way he laughed, the way he teased you, the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his words. You realized how much you needed him—not just in your routine, but in your life. The thought of reaching out to him tugged at you, but your ego stood in the way.

Was it worth it? Was holding onto your pride worth the growing emptiness you felt without him?

You stared at the ceiling, the questions swirling in your mind. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. You picked up your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen.

You dialed his number, putting the phone to your ear. The line beeped twice before he picked up, his voice coming through fast, "Y/N?"

Hearing his voice, you closed your eyes and sighed. "Cheol..." you murmured, the nickname slipping out naturally.

On the other end, you heard Seungcheol's breath hitch. He knew you only used that nickname when you were feeling particularly vulnerable, and he wondered if you needed him now. But he reminded himself to stay cold, at least for a moment—maybe you did need him.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he asked, his tone carefully controlled.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding. "Where are you?" you asked, straining to hear the sounds of street movement in the background. He was definitely driving.

"I'm out," he replied curtly. "Why?"

"Out where?" you pressed, needing to know more.

He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. "Just driving around. Needed to clear my head."

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what you needed to say. "Can you come over? I... I need to see you."

Another pause, longer this time. "Why, Y/N? Why now?"

"Because I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And because I can't stop thinking about you."

There was silence on the line, and for a moment, you feared he might hang up. But then you heard him exhale sharply. "I'll be there in ten."

The line went dead, and you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart raced.

When Seungcheol knocked on your door, you practically flew to open it. The scent of his cologne, the one you loved so much, filled the air as soon as you pulled the door open. He stood there in a leather jacket, black jeans, and that shirt you always told him looked amazing on him.

You wasted no time pulling him inside, closing the door behind him, and wrapping your arms tightly around him. You jumped up a bit so he could hold your legs, and he caught you effortlessly, pulling you close.

As he hugged you, his warmth enveloped you, and you melted into his embrace. His hands caressed your moisturized skin, sending shivers down your spine as he admired the contrast of your delicate babydoll against his rugged street clothing.

For a moment, everything else faded away—the arguments, the doubts, the uncertainty.

"Cheol..." you murmur against his neck, your voice barely above a whisper. He hums in response, his breath warm against your skin. You can't bring yourself to look into his eyes, feeling a vulnerability swirling inside you.

Suddenly, he gently grabs your hair, tilting your head up so that you're forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, searching, emotions you can't quite decipher. But in that moment, you feel like he's seeing right through you, seeing all the things you're too afraid to say out loud.

Without another word, you lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing embrace. His fingers press into the small of your back, pulling you closer, as he furrows his eyebrows, savoring the taste of your kiss like it's the first time all over again.

His tongue slips into your mouth, a silent plea for more, and you gladly oblige, deepening the kiss with every passing moment. Lost in each other, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he guides you towards the bedroom.

Seungcheol makes you sit on the edge of the bed, his hands deftly working to remove his leather jacket. You watch him, the strings of your babydoll falling from your shoulders as the fabric slides down, teasingly revealing hints of your curves.

Your lips are still stained red from the kiss, and your hair is slightly tousled from his grasp, but you can't tear your eyes away from him. There's a hunger in your gaze, a longing that mirrors his own, and he can't help but feel overwhelmed by it all.

As he stands before you, shirtless, he can't help but ask the question that's been burning in his mind since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Why do you do this to me?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can't stay away from you."

You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brush against his chest. "Then don't," you whisper, your voice filled with a desperate plea. "Stay with me."

His eyes darken with desire as he pushes you back onto the bed, a hunger burning in his gaze. His hands move with purpose, swiftly removing your babydoll, and he scoffs softly when he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath.

As his hand slides down between your thighs, finding you already wet and ready for him, you can't help but tremble under his touch. His fingers move roughly against your sensitive folds, teasing and taunting you.

But instead of giving you what you crave, he teases you, his touch tantalizingly slow as he savors every moment.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice pleading for more.

But he only smirks, his lips trailing kisses down your body as he continues to tease you, building the anticipation until you're practically begging.

"What? That guy couldn't handle you?" Seungcheol asks with a devilish grin, his voice laced with amusement.

"Fuck, don't ask about this right now," you plead, trying to focus on the sensations he's stirring within you.

But he tilts his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why not?" he asks innocently, his fingers entering your pussy with a deliberate slowness that makes you arch your back in pleasure.

"Because we didn't... we didn't fuck," you manage to stammer out, your breath catching as his fingers find just the right spot inside you.

Seungcheol hums in satisfaction, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he continues to work you with his skilled fingers. "Did you kiss him then?" he murmurs against your skin.

You moan softly, the sensation overwhelming as his fingers brush against your g'spot. "N-no," you gasp out, your mind consumed with the pleasure he's giving you. "Oh my god, Seungcheol, please..."

The filthy sounds emanating from your pussy made you blush furiously, but Seungcheol only smirked, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "Why didn't you kiss him?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement, relishing in your struggle to answer as his fingers worked faster, driving you closer to the edge.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to form a coherent response amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I-I don't know," you managed to gasp out, your breath hitching as his touch pushed you closer to the brink.

Seungcheol's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he continued to tease you relentlessly. "You don't know?" he repeated, his fingers working you with an expert precision that had you writhing beneath him.

You could barely think, let alone form a coherent response.

As Seungcheol's fingers entered and left you with lightning speed, you couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the blur of his forearm, moving so quickly it was almost a blur. Your back arched involuntarily as you let out a string of breathless "ah ah ah's," each one punctuated by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Seungcheol knew exactly what he was doing, his movements calculated to drive you wild with ecstasy.

Seungcheol knew you were close, could feel the tension building in your body with every movement of his hand. But just as you were on the brink of release, he stopped abruptly, leaving you panting and trembling with need.

"S-Seungcheol! No…"

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with frustration and desire, as he casually opened his jeans, a devilish grin playing on his lips. "You're trembling," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he watched your reaction.

Seungcheol takes his hard cock, slick with his own arousal, and grabs you by your hair roughly, pulling you close to him.

"You want this cock, don't you?" he growls, his breath hot against your skin. "You want my cock, you filthy little slut?"

You nod eagerly, your mouth hanging open in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to take him in.

"That's it," he murmurs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he slaps his cock against your face, the sound echoing in the room. "You're such a fucking whore, begging for it like this."

You whimper at his words, the intensity of his desire fueling your own. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each slap of his cock against your face, and the way he bites his lip, the need for him consuming you completely.

"Tell me you want it," he demands, his grip on your hair tightening. "Tell me you want my cock inside you."

"I want it," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want your cock, Seungcheol. Please, give it to me."

With a satisfied smirk, he positions himself at your mouth, ready to give you exactly what you've been begging for. And as he thrusts forward, filling your mouth with his hard length, you can't help but moan in ecstasy, knowing that this is exactly where you belong.

Seungcheol's mouth falls agape, his face contorted in pleasure as you take him in so eagerly. He watches in awe as you moan around him, your hands sliding over his abs, making his skin shiver in your hands.

His frown quickly turns into a smirk of satisfaction, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth enveloping him completely. He can't help but marvel at how good you feel, how perfectly you fit him, as he rocks his hips gently.

You continue to moan around him, your hands exploring every inch of his body, fueling his desire even more.

"This mouth..." Seungcheol's voice is low and possessive as he tugs at your hair, his grip firm but not unkind. "This mouth is mine. Mine to kiss, mine to fuck."

With that declaration, he guides himself into your throat, the sudden invasion making your nose hit his pelvis. He holds you there for a moment, relishing the sensation of being engulfed by your warmth, before you instinctively gulp around him.

For a moment, he holds you there, the sensation of your throat tightening around him making him hiss in pleasure. You gulp around him, his grip tightens as he savors the moment.

"You're so fucking good at that,"

Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he pulls you off, a trail of saliva connecting you to him as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. The sight of you—lips swollen, eyes glazed with lust—only fuels his desire further. He knows he's claimed you, body and soul, and there's nothing in the world that could feel more right.

Seungcheol's hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but not too tight, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp for air. He pushes you further up the bed, his eyes locked onto yours with rage. His fingers around your neck feel like a beautiful, sinful necklace, a reminder of the control he holds over you in this moment.

"You have no idea how fucking mad you made me," he growls, his voice low and rough with emotion. "You drive me insane, Y/N. Always pushing my buttons, always making me want you more than anything."

As he confesses his frustration, you feel the head of his huge cock pressing against your entrance, stretching you slowly, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and tears slip down the sides of your face, mingling with the intense pleasure and the sweet pain of his grip on your throat.

"I can't stand it when you're with someone else," he continues, his thrusts slow and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him. "You belong to me. This body, this mouth, this pussy—all mine."

You gasp, the pressure of his cock stretching you almost too much to bear, but the feeling is intoxicating. "Seungcheol," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.

He tightens his grip on your throat just a bit more, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his dominance. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

He opens your legs wider, thrusting roughly inside you, the force of his movements making you scream. Your hands reach out, one gripping his arm while the other clutches the sheets with white-knuckled intensity. The pleasure and pain blend together, making it almost impossible to form coherent thoughts.

"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice a low growl. You stay quiet, the words caught in your throat, as if you couldn't hear him over the pounding of your heart and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

"Say it," he insists, his tone more forceful now. When you still don't respond, he suddenly stops, his cock buried deep inside you, his balls pressed tight against your cunt. The sudden stillness makes you sob with the force of the pressure, feeling him pressing against your g'spot, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a testament to the power he holds over you.

Seungcheol glances down at you, his gaze hard and unwavering. He grabs your jaw, holding it firmly as he shakes your head slightly. "Say it," he repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

Between the overwhelming pleasure and the sharp edge of suffering, you manage to give him a sly smile, defiance flickering in your eyes. He narrows his gaze, recognizing the challenge in your expression.

Without warning, he delivers a sharp slap to your face, the sting of it sending a shock through your system. "Say it," he demands again, anger and desperation, his control slipping.

The slap jolts you back to reality, the raw intensity of the moment piercing through the haze. "I'm yours," you finally manage to gasp, your voice cracking.. "All yours, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol contains a smile, the satisfaction in his eyes unmistakable. He gives you another two light slaps on your face, the stinging sensation making your skin tingle. Then, with a show of his strength, he effortlessly flips you over, treating you like a doll, positioning you exactly how he wants.

Your chest presses against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets as you feel his hands gripping the meat of your ass, spreading you open for him. The vulnerability make your heart race, every nerve in your body on high alert.

Seungcheol's fingers dig into your flesh, holding you firmly as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. Once he's fully inside, he pauses, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice a rough whisper of desire. "You feel so fucking good."

You can barely respond, your mind lost in the sensation of him filling you completely. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending ripples of pleasure through your body.

"You're mine," he growls, his pace quickening, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. "Say it again."

"I'm yours," you moan, your voice muffled by the mattress. "Seungcheol."

He lets out a satisfied grunt, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The intensity of his movements drives you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the force of his thrusts.

Seungcheol's hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair and pulling your head back slightly. "Don't forget it," he hisses, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine, and I'll never let you go."

You moan undone, your breathless praise slipping from your lips—"That is so good, so good"—but before you can finish your sentence, you're cut off by a sharp thrust that makes you scream.

Seungcheol coos,"I doubt anyone can find it like I do."

He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back so you're forced to arch your back, your screams echoing in the room as he hits just the right spot again and again.

You can feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost overwhelming. "S-Seungcheol," you gasp out, your voice a desperate plea for more.

But he just smirks, his movements becoming even more precise, more calculated. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he's reveling in every moment of it.

Seungcheol is fucking you so hard that tears stream down your face, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. You're almost afraid to lose yourself completely, to let go of all control. Just when you think it can't get any more intense, his hands find your clit, and you can't help but squirm under his touch.

You whimper as he pulls you up against his chest, his fingers flicking your clit rapidly as he watches your reaction with dark, hungry eyes.

To make matters worse—or better, depending on how you look at it—his hand on your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your already overloaded senses. You squirm and writhe beneath him, the stimulation almost too much to bear.

Your eyes roll back in your head, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to hold on to your sanity. "Breath," he demands, his voice a rough growl in your ear.

You try to comply, but the overwhelming pleasure makes it difficult to focus on anything else. "I-I can't," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much."

Seungcheol notices the sudden change in your demeanor, the absence of your usual moans and the way you've gone completely still, holding your breath as if frozen in time. Concern flashes across his face, his movements slowing as he registers the subtle signs of your impending climax.

"Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern, his fingers stilling against your clit.

But you're lost, cumming, –almost chopping his dick off with your tight cunt– your body trembling with the force of your release, unable to respond to his touch or his words. You feel like you're floating, weightless and breathless, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

With a gentle touch, he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have gathered in the corners of your eyes.

You try to respond, to reassure him that you're fine, that you're just overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. But all that comes out is a strangled whimper, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Seungcheol's worry deepens, and he pulls you closer against his chest, holding you tightly as he strokes your hair soothingly. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Just breathe, baby. I've got you."

A strangled moan escapes your lips as your body softens against Seungcheol's, the intensity of your release leaving you jelly-like in his arms. Concern still lingering in his eyes, he asks softly, "Did you cum?"

You manage a breathless "Yes," a dizzy smile spreading across your lips as you gaze up at him.n "Are you going to fill me up this time?"

Seungcheol's cock twitches at your words, the desire in his eyes almost palpable as he stutters out a response. "I-I... Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky with need.

You swirl your hips against him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you feel him grow even harder beneath you. His sharp intake of breath is all the answer you need, a silent confirmation of his desire.

"Please," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you press your body against his, your hands trailing down his neck to grip his hips.

You always asked Seungcheol to fill you up, but he always denied. But now, as he presses you against the bed once again, you lie sideways, feeling his cock slide deep inside you. Your pussy is even tighter around him this time, the sensation almost overwhelming.

You glance up at him, doing that little face you know he loves—biting your lip, furrowing your eyebrows just so. His face contorts in pleasure and frustration when he sees you like this, and he lets out a string of curses.

"Fuck you, Y/N," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck you, why are you like this? Shit."

You can't help but smile, biting your lip as you watch the emotions play across his face. It's a game you both love to play.

Deep down, you knew that you messed with him, and deep down, he knew it too. It was a dynamic between you two that you couldn't deny. You loved to tease him, to push his buttons and see how far you could go, because it ignited something primal in both of you.

You loved the way he reacted to your teasing, the way his control slipped just a little more with each provocative glance or suggestive comment. And he, in turn, reveled in the challenge you presented, the way you pushed him to his limits and beyond.

In your mind, a film passed by, a vivid flashback to a night when you both decided to let your touches get wilder.

Seungcheol's hand gripped your tit, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn't help but grind your clothed pussy against his clothed cock, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Suddenly, Seungcheol stopped, his grip tightening on your hips as he looked at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "No, no we—" he started to say, but you continued moving your hips, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as you begged him to continue. He was reluctant, hesitant, but you could feel the tension building between you, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

His hips mirrored your thrusts, a silent admission of the desire burning within him.

He took all of your clothing, stripping you bare as he worshipped your body with his mouth. The sensation of his lips and tongue on your pussy was too much, bringing tears to your eyes as he gave his everything to please you.

You arched your back against his couch, your toes curling with pleasure as you moaned his name over and over again. Seungcheol's gaze never left yours, his eyes dark with desire as he savored every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

"Seungcheol, d-don't stop! Please, please!" your voice echoed in his mind, focusing on making you cum on his tongue, making you mark him with your essence.

–

"Y/N, you slut," Seungcheol pants, his voice heavy with desire and frustration. He thrusts into you, his body trembling with the effort, his expression a mixture of pleasure and suffering. His mouth hangs open, his hair clinging to his face with sweat as he continues to drive into you relentlessly.

"You only make me suffer," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "But fuck, I can't help but want you. Every time I'm with you, I–"

You cut off his confession, your breath hitching as you feel another wave of pleasure building inside you. "I'm... I'm cumming again," you gasp out, the sudden declaration sending you hurtling towards the edge with newfound intensity.

Seungcheol's eyes widen with surprise at your abrupt interruption, but he doesn't miss a beat. He grips your hips tighter, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he drives you towards the brink of ecstasy once again.

You glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, trying to keep them open despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. His moans mingle with yours, the sound filling the room as you both surrender to the ecstasy of the moment.

And then, with a shuddering cry, you feel yourself tumbling over the edge once again, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Seungcheol's movements become more erratic, more desperate, as he reaches his own peak, painting your insides with his hot cum.

His body almost collapses on top of yours, but he sustains himself with one arm, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rides out the last throes of his climax. You clench and unclench around him, milking him for every drop of cum as you let out a relieved moan, the hot cum filling you like a reward.

As Seungcheol quietly gets up and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you. It's unlike him to leave so abruptly after sex, especially when he usually prefers to linger, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

You wait for a moment, hoping that he'll return soon, but when he doesn't, your concern grows. Something doesn't feel right, and you can't shake the feeling that there's more to his sudden departure than meets the eye.

With a sense of trepidation, you push yourself up from the bed and make your way to the bathroom, your footsteps echoing in the quiet of the room. You hesitate for a moment outside the door, unsure of what you'll find on the other side.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you push open the door and step inside. The bathroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the soft glow of the overhead light.

You find Seungcheol standing in front of the sink, his back turned to you as he splashes water on his face. His shoulders are tense, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he's trying to wash away the weight of the world.

"Seungcheol?" you call out softly, your voice breaking the silence of the room.

He startles at the sound of your voice, his movements faltering for a moment before he turns to face you. His eyes are shadowed, his expression unreadable as he meets your gaze.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concern lacing your words as you step closer to him.

He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether or not to confide in you, before finally nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you can tell by the tension in his body, by the haunted look in his eyes, that he's anything but fine.

"I'm sorry for being a slut who makes you suffer," you say softly, your words heavy with remorse as you acknowledge the pain you've caused him. Deep down, you know that his hurt stems from your actions, from the tumultuous dynamic between you that often leaves both of you reeling.

But before you can dwell on your apology, Seungcheol rushes to reassure you, his words coming out in a hurried rush. "No, no, you're not," he insists, his voice firm as he looks at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

You exhale softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. But before you can say anything else, the confession spills out of you, unstoppable now that you've opened the floodgates.

"I blocked him," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Hm?" Seungcheol's head tilt, confused.

"The guy from the date. Actually, I couldn't think about anything else but you, Seungcheol. That date... I wasn't even paying attention to that guy. I just wanted you. I'd rather have stayed with you that day, but I left, and I hurt you–"

But before you can finish your confession, Seungcheol cuts you off by pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "It's okay, Y/N-nie," he murmurs, "I understand. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Seungcheol hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he asks, "Am I being selfish if I say that I want you to be mine, and no one else?"

You chuckle softly at his question, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. "Not at all," you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. "I want to be yours, Seungcheol. No one else."

A flicker of relief passes over his features at your words, but there's still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "But... is it okay for me to want that?" he asks, his voice tinged with insecurity.

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course it is," you murmur against his mouth. "In fact, it's more than okay. It's what I want too."

Seungcheol's eyes widen in surprise at your words, his expression softening with a mixture of disbelief and joy. "Really?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, your smile widening as you take his hand in yours. "Really," you confirm.

2K notes · View notes

obsessedwithceleste · 1 month

Text

You’re Not Everyone Else

Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Based on this request🫶🏽

Summary: Enz thought he knew everything there was to know when it came to wooing pretty witches, but it will take a lot more than the botanical gardens to win you over.

word count: 4.4k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You glare menacingly at the offending bundle of flowers propped up perfectly against your pillow, practically glowing as the sunlight streams onto them through the window. As if it were a sign that the flowers were bloody heaven sent.

Daphne’s mouth is practically on the floor as she watches you dump the fresh bouquet of expensive looking tulips directly into the trash can.

The flowers had been waiting for you on your bed when you came back from class, and you didn’t need to read the note attached to guess who they were from.

You can tell that she wants to protest, but you cut her off before she’s able to even get a word in.

“Don’t. You know how I feel about Berkshire. It’s not going to happen.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the mere thought of Lorenzo Berkshire actually managing to weasel his way into your heart.

That boy was no good. He had a pretty face and the charisma to go along with it. He was nothing but a womanizer and you had heard all the stories to prove it. In fact, there was probably an alphabetized list of all the girls that had fallen victim to Lorenzo Berkshire floating around somewhere. He practically had his pick of the litter when it came to the Hogwarts dating pool, and yet for some reason he had landed his sights on you.

You could remember the first time Daphne had brought you to the Parkinson estate, introducing you to all of her friends. He had been their. Young, but charming as ever. He had been kind then. And sweet. But that was just to lure you in. By Christmas that same year you had heard all about his escapades and wanted nothing to do with it.

Daphne, to her credit, had tried to dissuade you, vouching for her friend, but you could never quite see past the swirling whispers that seemed to damper the boy's shine. He was her friend. Fine. He had been her friend first after all, but that was all he'd ever be. A friend of a friend.

But it had been years at this point, of flowers being left in your dorm room, chocolates, even soppy love poems declaring his affection for you, but you were having none of it. And it seemed the more you pushed the boy away, the more determined he was to make you his.

“It’s so romantic though,” Daphne protests, looking like she’s debating fishing the flowers out of the trash can. It was the third bouquet this week. And it was only Tuesday.

“Pft. Manipulative is more like it. He only wants one thing Daph, and you know it,” you reply, collapsing onto your bed with an annoyed huff.

Your friend is silent for a moment, mulling over her words.

"You liked him at one point. You told me so," she says finally.

"Sure, when I was thirteen. He's only after me now cause he likes the chase. He'll get bored," you reply, rolling your eyes slightly and brushing off the girl's comment.

Your roommate lets out a sigh, wringing her hands as she takes a seat on her own bed across the room.

“Oh I don’t think Enz would do that to you. I’ve known him since we were kids. He seems so serious about this.” Daphne replies.

You’d heard Daph say that same thing what felt like a million times over since this whole thing started.

“Yeah, well. It’s going to take a lot more than the botanical gardens to win me over.”

Lorenzo Berkshire was infamously known around the halls of Hogwarts for his flirtatious tendencies. It didn’t bother him much, even though half the things being said about him weren’t true in the slightest. But really what was denying any of it going to do?

Let people think what they want was what he always thought. Only one person’s opinion really mattered anyway. Yours.

Lorenzo had always been the romantic of the group, not that there was really any competition for the title, but still. From the day he met you, he knew that you were the one. You were perfect. Funny, and smart, and kind, always playfully bantering with your friends.

He remembered the summer after third year when Daphne had introduced you to the group. All of you gathered at the Parkinson estate. You had swept Theo in chess and Lorenzo had just sat there staring at you. Completely mesmerized. After that everyone seemed to love you, and you seemed to get along with everyone too. Even him. At first.

The first few months were bliss. Lorenzo loved making you laugh, seeing you smile. He knew then that he was down bad. But then, halfway through your fourth year, it was like a switch had flipped. He didn’t have the faintest clue as to why you suddenly seemed to have a certain level of hostility towards him. But he knew that he missed you.

“What in Salazar’s name could I have possibly done wrong?” Lorenzo groans, head falling back, face in hands as he leans back on the common room sofa. “I thought I was doing everything girls want. I send flowers. I send sweets. I even wrote her heart felt poems about how I feel about her!”

“That is disgusting. Have some dignity,” Draco snorts from his spot across from Lorenzo who just sticks his tongue out at the blonde boy in response.

“Oh hush Draco. I think it all sounds perfectly reasonable,” Pansy remarks, giving Enzo a nod of approval.

“Well it would be perfectly reasonable if it worked! She won’t even give me a second glance. She’s so nice to everyone. Bubbly and sweet and talkative. But as soon as I’m around she clams up! Did you know she’s helping Mattheo with charms right as we speak? Bloody traitor he is.” Lorenzo laments.

To be fair, you had had an upstanding tutoring session with Mattheo for weeks now, instituted my Professor Flitwick, but minor details.

“Well she is pretty talented when it comes to charms,” Daphne says awkwardly, lips pursed as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, trying not to be noticed.

Pansy squints at her friend, squirming and fidgeting. It was entirely unlike her. She was usually the one with her head screwed on correctly.

“Hold on Daph. You know something. What is it?” She demands.

Daphne looks at the raven haired girl in alarm, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders not daring to utter a word.

“Daph, come on, look at this man. He’s utterly pathetic,” Draco adds, gesturing towards the distressed brunette. Enzo glares at his friend.

“Just spit it out,” Pansy orders.

“She thinks you’re just trying to use her for sex!” Daphne blurts out, crumbling under the pressure.

Lorenzo blinks once. Then again.

“What?”

Daphne just shrugs once more rather helplessly as the group just stares at her as if she would solve all of Enzo’s problems.

“To be perfectly fair, there are a lot of rumors about you that have been circulating for years. I think, you just might be coming off a bit- ah, disingenuous perhaps?” Daphne says finally.

She could practically see the gears working in Lorenzo’s head as he takes in her words. She’s a bit worried she’d broken him when he remains silent for what seems like forever.

“I have so much work to do,” he announces finally, standing up and marching off to his dormitory, a look of fierce determination sketched onto his face.

“Oh now look what you’ve done Daph,” Draco groans, looking at the retreating back of his friend.

“She’s the one who made me say something,” Daphne protests, pointing an accusatory finger at Pansy.

“Shush Draco. None of us wanted to hear him monologue about his undying love again anyway,” Pansy retorts.

To be quite honest, you were feeling a bit ambushed as none other than Lorenzo Berkshire plopped down beside you on the sofa that you had claimed in one of the rather abandoned corners of the library.

“Afternoon love,” he chirps happily, shooting you one of his famous smiles. The kind that normally made girls melt at the mere sight.

“Hello Lorenzo.”

“You never responded to my note,” the boy chatters on, ignoring your clear disinterest in his presence. You really weren’t sure if the boy didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

“What note?”

The boy blinks at you. “The note I sent with the tulips the other day?” He replies, as if it should have been obvious.

“Oh. I threw those away.”

“Oh, you threw them aw- what?” He asks, apparently caught off guard by your nonchalant answer.

“I threw them away, placed them in the trash can, sentenced them to eternal damnation. Do try to keep up Enz.”

“Wha- why?” He splutters, genuinely looking a bit hurt.

You look at the boy raising an eyebrow. "I throw away all of your flowers."

"All of them?"

"Are you daft?"

Lorenzo's jaw is practically on the floor, his ego clearly being knocked down a peg or ten.

"Yes- I mean no- I mean- why are you throwing away my flowers?" He splutters.

Growing increasingly more frustrated, you glare at the boy.

"Can you quite down? And if I can be quite honest Lorenzo, I'm not exactly your biggest fan. It's nothing personal of course, you understand," you sigh, trying to get back to your reading.

Enzo is having none of it however as he tries to replay every interaction he could think of between the two of you. He simply doesn't understand. He thought he'd never been anything but a gentleman to you.

"You don't like me? Me specifically? But- you like everyone!"

It was true. Lorenzo had never heard a bad thing about you from anyone. Not even Draco had a bad word to say since you seemed to go out of your way to show kindness to everyone around you.

"Yes well, you're not everyone else Lorenzo."

Lorenzo's mind races as he stares at you in shock. You looked awfully lovely today. Damn it, stay focused. He just wanted you to see him. Was that too much to ask?

"I'm not just trying to use you for sex!" he blurts out, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth, staring at you wide eyed. Real smooth Berkshire.

With a groan, you snap your book shut, closing your eyes in frustration as you realize that you're not going to be getting any reading done with Lorenzo sitting next to you.

Taking a slow inhale, you turn to get a good look at the boy beside you. Fluffy brown hair, warm, earnest eyes, only marred by the subtle pout adorning his lips.

“Let’s just say I were to give you a chance-“ you start.

“You won’t regret it. Pick you up at 8 tomorrow!” He replies, jumping in, the widest smile gracing his face.

Looking at the boy was like looking at a golden retriever puppy. You knew he was anything but, but how could you say no to that face?

“Alright Berkshire. One chance. Then, I never want to hear about this again.”

He was not going to blow this. He simply wouldn’t allow himself to. Everything that he had been working for these past months was leading up to this, he just couldn’t let it slip through his fingers. Enzo was giddy with anticipation as he lead you carefully down the cobblestone path.

“You better not be leading me out to the forest to murder me,” you call out to the boy behind you, his hands firmly in place over your eyes.

You were only half joking.

Before he even needs to respond, Enzo drops his hands and you’re immediately hit with bright sunlight.

“Where are we?” You ask in shocked amazement, staring around at the garden before you. It was straight out of a fairytale really. Bright, glowing green leaves, flowers of every color. There were even little, glittering sprites dancing about the flora.

“Hogwarts gardens. You never been?” Enzo asks, walking over to a spread on the lawn that you hadn’t even registered yet.

It was clear that he had put in some effort. The soft blanket laid out on the grass was littered with fruits and pastries, even a variety of little sandwiches.

“Didn’t even know this place existed,” you mutter, allowing the boy to guide you to a nice, sunny spot on the lawn.

“I’ve been working out here with Sprout for years. My favorite place,” Enzo tells you offhandedly, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

Under the warm sunlight, he looked unreal. Like an ethereal creature who took a wrong turn and somehow ended up sitting in front of you. You really could see what all the fuss was about when he was staring intently at you, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Wait.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realize you’d been staring as well, but Enzo doesn’t seem to mind.

“I think Daph mentioned that you were some herbology buff,” you say in an attempt to recover a bit of your dignity.

Enzo smirks. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. I am top of the class.”

“I thought that honor went to Longbottom,” you reply, picking at the food in front of you.

Lorenzo's face turns to a grimace.

"He could be real competition if he weren't a such pyromaniac. Sprout is still giving him the cold shoulder after he almost burned her prized Cobra Lily. Thing deserved it though. Always hissing at me."

You don't know why, but you can't help but let out a laugh at the thought of the Lorenzo Berkshire having an ongoing feud with a plant.

"Haha, yeah. You laugh now, but that bloody plant has been antagonizing me for weeks. I'm one hiss away from dropping the damn thing off of the astronomy tower." He responds sarcastically to your laughter, only causing you to fall into a further fit of giggles. The brunette boy just sticks his tongue out at you in defeat.

"Oh come on now, that's no way charm a witch," you tease, pulling yourself together as you grin at the boy in front of you.

"Yeah, well I've tried every other way I can think of, so it was worth a shot," Enz replies, his joking smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Your grin falters as Enzo's eyes drop to the grass surrounding the both of you and you take in the sudden silence of the gardens.

"It's hard to believe someone actually likes you when you're just another face in the crowd," you say finally, not willing to meet the boy's eyes.

"You don't have to believe me now. I'll wait."

It was a moment of sincerity that you weren't expecting out of the boy. Usually he was all jokiness and smiles. Not a bad quality by any means, but you were never sure when you could trust the boy's words. You felt like you could trust him now though, in that moment.

After that, you find yourself quite enjoying your afternoon. You had forgotten how easily the two of you actually got on when you weren't avoiding the boy like the plague. He had so many stories about the gardens, and it quickly became apparent that the particular spot he had brought you to was his sanctuary. It was nice getting to hear him talk, without all the extra noise and whispers, and off-putting looks from your classmates. You had missed him.

In the days following your garden excursion, Enzo keeps his word- backing off a bit from his pursuit for your affection. He was still around of course as you shared a friend group, but the excessive love poems had stopped and the next bouquet of tulips that appeared in your dorm was addressed to both you and Daph which she was thrilled about.

Over the next few weeks, it did not go unnoticed by you that your eyes had seemingly become magnetized to a certain brunette boy, quietly observing. He'd caught you watching a few times, tossing you one of his famous, dazzling smiles.

Slowly, you find yourself seeking the boy out on purpose as you found that you rather liked the way he had been able to make you laugh so easily that day in the garden. You had forgotten how much fun he was to be around. How warm and happy you felt when he looked at you. And he was rather sweet when he wanted to be. You had known the boy for years at this point. You thought you could read him like a book, but he still managed to surprise you.

In fact, you were as surprised as anyone to find yourself seated next to the boy in your astronomy class. It was a relatively new seating arrangement, but you found that he made the late night class significantly more tolerable. You didn't know what time it was now, but it was late, and you were tired.

"If you fall asleep, I'm not going to catch you if you fall out of the tower," Enz whispers in your ear as you fight to keep your eyes open and trained on the night sky.

"Yes you would, you’re too obsessed with me to let me fall," you respond, still able to feel his breath on the back of your neck.

You couldn't remember when the two of you got so comfortable with one another, but it had happened so quickly you almost didn't realize. Almost.

He hums in response, backing away and scribbling down the name of some constellation before gazing out at the sky once more.

“Whose idea even was it to let sleep deprived teenagers take a class at midnight in a tower without railings. They’re practically asking for a student to fall,” you grumble, slumping against Enz dramatically.

He lets out a soft snort of laughter this time as he continues to chart different constellations onto his parchment. You had finished the night's assignment ages ago and now had nothing to do but watch him quietly, resting your chin on his shoulder as he draws perfect little stars.

“What’s that?” You ask, reaching over the boys shoulder to pull something out of the notebook.

The soft pink color had caught your eye, peeking out of the pages, and a gentle tug reveals the petals of a tulip, followed by a green step. The flower isn’t as vibrant as it should be, and is flattened like a book page.

Enzo pauses, looking at the flower carefully.

“That’s from the first time we met.” He says, trying hard to sound casual. He continues to stare down at his notebook, but the stiffness in his arm makes it clear that he isn’t focused on stars anymore.

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“Pansy doesn’t have tulips at the estate,” you reply, suddenly feeling more awake.

“No. But the greenhouse here does.”

Feeling even more confused, you tilt your head, waiting for Enzo to go on.

He carefully plucks the flower out of your hand, tucking it safely back into his notebook.

“The first time we met was in second year. We were learning the Herbivicus charm and I just couldn’t get it. But you got it so quick. You helped me, and that’s the flower we grew.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t even remember that day. It seemed so insignificant to you at the time.

“And you kept it?” You ask, your confusion amplified by your sleepy haze.

“I liked you,” is all you get in response.

You’re quiet after that, watching silently as Enzo scratches away at his parchment. His eyes flickering over to you nervously every so often. It was strange seeing him without his usual confident smirk.

As class eventually wraps up, the two of you slowly make your way down the winding staircase, quickly falling behind the other students who were racing off to get some much needed rest.

Your feet reach the final step with a muffled thud as you come to a hesitant stop. Normally this is where you and Enzo would split off for the night, but looking up at the boy, rays of moonlight glowing across his face, you can’t find it in yourself to move away.

With a sudden wave a confidence, impulsiveness, and probably a fair bit of deliriousness, you find yourself grabbing onto the collar of Enzo’s shirt, pulling down, and crashing his lips onto yours.

It takes a moment for realization to fully hit Enz, but you quickly find yourself back against the cold stone wall, Enzo’s lips still firmly on yours, deepening the kiss as he boxes you in. He moves against you with sheer lust, years of pining pouring out.

You vaguely feel his hand moving up your thigh, gripping tightly at your waist before moving up to cup your face, thumb brushing against your cheek softly tilting your head up further as his lips move against yours.

It’s hot, and dizzying, and just, right. You’re not quite sure how to describe it.

When Enz finally pulls away, you can feel his breath against your lips from his soft pants as he looms over you.

“I think a like you too,” you murmur, lips just barely brushing his with every word.

That’s apparently all Enzo needed to hear before he’s practically carrying you back to his dorm.

It’s a blurry haze as you find yourself pulling him onto the bed, lips connecting once more as your bodies move methodically against each other. It’s as if you’d simply turned off your brain, any worries or doubts scattering to the winds as Enzo’s warmth overtakes you.

The next morning a wave of icey cold fear washes over you as you realize what you’d done. What had you been thinking? All these years of avoiding him and for what? Rolling over in the tangle of sheets, Enz is still fast asleep, bathed in streams of sunlight peaking through the curtains. He really was gorgeous.

“Mornin love,” his voice shaking you from your thoughts.

“Hi,” you reply cautiously, turning to meet the boy’s eyes.

His eyes shine as he grins contentedly at you, pulling you closer so your noses are practically touching.

“I can tell what you’re thinking. Stop it. You’re stuck with me now,” he says, pressing a quick peck onto your lips.

Your face grows warm as he continues to pepper your face with kisses.

“I don’t ever want to leave this moment,” you sigh.

You can feel Enzo’s smile.

“I’m that good am I?” He asks cockily.

You snort. “Don’t want to have to admit to Daph that I can actually tolerate you for extended periods of time.”

“Aw, c’mon now love, don’t be like that,” Enz chuckles, tapping your nose lightly with his finger.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you feign annoyance, batting his hand away.

“I’m going back to sleep. I don’t want to deal with you anymore,” you tease, rolling over.

Enz just laughs, snaking his arm around you and pulling you close, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go,” he murmurs as you allow your eyes to flutter shut once more.

“Wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

Did I start writing this way back in April? Yes. Do I remember what the original plot was going to be? No. Is this edited? Also no.

Anyway, Live Laugh Love Lorenzo Berkshire🤪

#slytherin boys #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #lorenzo berkshire fanfiction #enzo berkshire x y/n #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x y/n #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire fluff #live laugh love lorenzo berkshire

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kooktrash · 2 years

Text

guys my age | jeon jungkook

summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration

warnings: 9.5K words. smüt. 6 9 position [ oral f & m receiving] use of protection. roūgh missionary. they go like three rounds. reader gets on top. dirty talk, use of ‘little girl, slüt, etc but lightly] y/n is a man eater lowkey. jk wants to resist but he can’t lol. y/n is rich and spoiled, Y2K style. big bOobs lol. y/n is besties with jk’s daughter. stays at summer home. y/n is a cöçk tease. always teasing him. lawyer jk, with tattoos and piercing. y/n has bellybutton piercing

song inspo: cola — lana del rey [i got a taste for men who are older] affection — abra [did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?] guys my age — hey violet

Illicit Desires | DILF!Jungkook collab

The blaring sun burned against your skin, your patience running thin the longer you waited outside. A key was being jammed into the doorknob with no luck to actually get it to function. You were tired, hot, and hungry—never a good mix when it came to your mood. Your feet hurt from the kitten heels you wore and the black handle of your suitcase was getting hot with the summer heat.

“Hurry up,” you whined, a manicured hand with long pink nails waving in an attempt to fan yourself. Only seconds later the click of the lock was heard and the door was opening. You and the person in front of you groaned in relief and you were trudging inside the large house you’d be spending your summer at.

“My dad’s not home so we’ve got the place to ourselves for a couple hours, what should we do?” Your friend, Jieun, asked once the two of you made it to the stairs to take your things to her room. You gave a shrug in response, “I don’t know, I’m hot, I can’t think.”

“Oh, so you think you’re hot?” She joked with you knowing that was not at all what you meant but you winked at her anyway. Your gum smacked with each chew as you looked around her bedroom that looked fit for a teen which made sense since she’s been rooming with you in the dorms for the last two years.

“I thought you didn’t like your daddy,” you were teasing but also serious when you sat on her bed, skirt shifting to show more thigh. Jieun just sighed, opening her drawers to pull out a bikini, “It’s complicated. The divorce with my mom was ugly and it was only three years ago. I was a teen so I held a lot of resentment toward him and her.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cheated?” You asked curiously as she passed you your smaller bag for you to fish out a bikini. Jieun nodded, “Yeah, I know but my dad was always busy. Always gone for work and I don’t know, 17 year old me wished he was around more so she wouldn’t feel so lonely.”

You let the subject go in order to change out of your clothes that had been way too hot for the heat and into something way too small. A hot pink bikini with small triangles covering your breasts and a small pair of bottoms with silver links to hold it together. Jieun directed you outside and she went to get drinks and snacks for you two before joining you. You managed to pull a heart shaped floaty toward you and laid inside of it with your legs hanging out the side and a cherry coke in your hand.

“Is your dad hot?” You asked looking over your sunglasses as they hung low on your nose bridge. Jieun rolled her eyes as you passed her the donut floaty.

“Don’t ask me,” Jieun said as she finally made it on, “And leave my dad alone, the old men you like are sad.”

“Whatever, I was just asking,” you laughed, “And I’ll have you know I prefer them younger.”

She just rolled her eyes moving next to you and the two of you floated in the pool for a good while before dropping yourselves into the cold water. You played only one round of mermaids until you swear you died and came back to life.

At the sliding door stood a man, a very attractive older man dressed in a forest green matching shirt and shorts that could pass as pajamas. His shirt was slightly transparent but unfortunately you couldn’t see much. He slid the glass door open coming out with a pair of black sunglasses that he pushed up to his hair. Jieun turned to look at what you’d been staring at and she waved a hand, “Hey.”

The man’s eyes swept back to you, “Hey.” Jieun swam to the edge of the pool pulling herself up with absolutely no grace and pointed to you, “This is my roommate Y/n, she’s staying with us this summer.”

“Oh really?” He asked looking to her, “I don’t remember you telling me about this.”

She just shrugged, taking her towel and stretching one out for you to grab. You dragged yourself to the edge of the pool before placing your hands on the edge and pulling yourself up in one go. You didn’t notice the way Jieun’s dad watched the water cascade down your breasts to your stomach and thighs until you dragged yourself up. You took the towel from Jieun and dried yourself off looking back to him, “Hello Mr. Jeon, I’m Y/n, Jieun’s roommate for the past two years.”

You placed your hand in his as greeting and he gave it a firm shake, “Call me Jungkook, has Jieun gotten you set up in the guest room?”

The three of you went upstairs and for some reason you felt the need to walk with a sway in your steps knowing Jieun’s dad was behind you. You also knew you shouldn’t be doing that in just a towel and very skimpy bikini but you didn’t care. You knew in the back of your mind Jieun was one of your best friends and thinking her dad is hot should be weird. You also knew you were going to do what you want anyway and if that was planning a little game for the summer you were going to do it.

In truth, you were a very spoiled person. You came from money and your dad never thought twice about doing what you wanted so obviously you would be spoiled. You didn’t care about the consequences, you just did what you wanted because it was fun. It wasn’t going to be anything serious anyway and it’s only your first day staying here and you had to entertain yourself some way if Jieun wasn’t around.

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr. Jeon, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go for the summer,” you said once it was just you and him after getting changed. He was bringing in blankets and pillows for you. He stopped to look at you, eyes threatening to trail down your body again but he forced himself to only look at your face, “It’s no problem, did your parents not let you stay with them?”

“They’re away for the summer,” you told him leaning against the back wall as he put the bed sheets on the bed you’d be sleeping on, “They didn’t want me in that big house all by myself for three months.”

“Maybe they don’t trust you,” he said with a small smile trying to make himself feel comfortable around his daughter’s friends. It is very hard to not think about the girl in his house that was so physically attractive it had him anxious. It just wasn’t a good idea to think about a girl his daughter’s age. You had no idea he had these thoughts, all you knew was that you were in the mood to talk, “They don’t, I’m not always the best behaved.”

“In my house, I hope you’ll behave,” he let the words slip before he could stop himself. They sounded more flirty than he meant them to when in reality he just hoped for no trouble with you. You weren’t making this easy when you tilted your head to the side and batted your lashes, “Keep a close eye on me and maybe I will.”

Jungkook seemed to freeze for a moment, his hand fixing the fitted sheet and using his sudden tension to stuff the fabric into the frame. It was silent and when Jieun came up looking at you, “I ordered pizza.”

“Yum,” you smiled cheerfully, “Are you joining us, Mr. Jeon?”

You stood at the doorway facing the stairs but turning your head back to look at him. He was already walking behind you and when you got to the stairs, his hand touched your back lightly. He stared forward, looking distant as he said, “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” With that he looked to you quickly before looking ahead.

The first few days you barely had a chance to see him, you mostly hung out with Jieun and went out with friends. He was up early and got home late so you didn’t see him often. Tonight though, you’ve gotten lucky. Jieun has a date tonight with her boyfriend and she’d be staying the night at his house. Now you would be home alone until Jungkook came home and sometimes it’s not till late evening.

So you spent pretty much all day, after noon, by yourself trying to quench your boredom doing anything you could. Now you’re outside again tanning by the pool, or attempting to. The sun was already setting so there wasn’t much left and yet you remained outside.

“Jungkook, man, are you even listening right now?” A voice boomed through the speaker of his cellphone. He could barely make out the person’s voice as he held his phone away in a trance. His attention was elsewhere, somewhere he shouldn’t be focusing on, but he was.

It was hard not to stare at the view just on the other side of the sliding door. This time you were in yellow. A bright pastel that had a silver heart ring holding your top together at your breasts. From here he could see the belly button ring you had and you just looked… like sin. He was too lost to notice the way you pushed your glasses down to stare back at him. It wasn’t until you gave a little wave that he snapped out of it.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he muttered back to Taehyung as he went back to the kitchen to at least pretend like he wasn’t watching you. It was wrong, you were his daughter’s age but you just looked so damn good. And you know you’re attractive, you know that just one look and someone would squirm and currently that’s him. He has no business being 38 watching a girl who is barely 21 and thinking about the way your bottoms hugged your ass that he catches himself looking at from time to time.

His hand ruffled his hair in an attempt to shake the thought of you away, “But I should go, I’ve gotta start dinner.”

“Oh, but I wanted to know how it’s been having Jieun back? Does she come home for dinner everyday?” Jimin asked, still trying to keep a conversation going but then you came in. The tiniest denim shorts on with the button and fly open showing off your stomach and a small triangle of the yellow bottoms. You seemed to forget a shirt, sauntering into the kitchen in just the tiny bikini top and shorts, a pretty smile on your face, “You’re home, I was feeling lonely.”

His phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Snap out of it, Jungkook, he’s reacting nervously around you and he shouldn’t.

“I’m about to start dinner,” was all he said to you before continuing his conversation with Jimin, “It’s been good but she’s not home today. She’s spending her night with Yoongi.”

You sat at the island leaning against the marble counter, pressing your chest into it and his eyes flickered to the way they seemed to bulge even more than usual. Oh God.

He could see small, hard buds through the fabric, “Jimin I’ve gotta go, I’m going to start cooking.” He needs a cold shower, like now.

“Or we can order,” You said once he was off the phone, “I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard… what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Day?” the word came out in a stutter that had his neck heating up in embarrassment. Why was he getting flustered? He’s had very little interaction with a woman consistently, aside from the women at work and they were nothing like you. They wore gray pencil skirts and white button ups—not yellow bikinis where he could see your hardened nipples poking out. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t had opportunities to date in the last three years but with his divorce and busy with work all the time he didn’t go out. He was a boring man in his eyes.

You flashed him an innocent smile that he’s not sure he believed, “Then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight, a thank you for letting me stay. Should I call and order?” Unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth, he just gave a subtle nod.

“I’m going to shower while we wait,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. You told him okay, ordered, and then showered yourself.

For dinner you had Italian and you were fully dressed now—still not enough for his prying eyes—but enough for him to focus on his food. He hates to admit that he’s way too curious tonight to ask questions, “What are your thoughts on Yoongi? Does he treat Jieun right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a light bite on your lip, “The sweetest, perfect for her.”

“For her? Wouldn’t everyone want a sweet guy?” He’s not sure why he asked or why he was curious to see what you’d say. All he knew was that his plate of food was no longer being eaten, and instead played with by scraping his fork against it. He avoided your eyes and you loved every second of it. He was just so cute getting nervous by a younger woman like you. It’s just too tempting to wanna make him squirm. A big, bad man like him falling underway by your teasing.

“I like them a little meaner, a little more authoritative,” you said looking up at him, “Like the ones who can put me in my place when I’m being difficult.”

“Hm,” he hummed in thought looking into your eyes, “Difficult?”

“Yes, I have a tendency to want what I want and find a way to get it,” you told him, voice more assertive, “And if I don’t get it, I become a huge brat.”

“So someone who can handle you?”

“Yes, but I’m a lot to handle, Jungkook,” you said his name laced with lust and if he said it didn’t go straight to his flaccid member, he’d be lying. He took a big drink from his glass of wine, “I’m sure someone is up for the task.”

“I hope so, I can get very impatient,” you raise your glass to your lips to drink, your eyes locked with his. With that you stood up with your plate, “Are you done?”

He gave a silent nod, not trusting himself to bite back a comment about how he has no patience for teasing. He’s not even sure those would be the exact words he’d say, or if he’d say how capable he is of putting someone in their place. You took his plate and washed them before excusing yourself to your bedroom to answer some call. He caught a small glimpse of the name already calling you and it was a man.

It’s been two weeks. Two hard weeks of forcing himself to not think about his daughter’s friend, but it’s been so damn difficult that you’re clouding his vision. All the looks you sent his way whenever you were with Jieun or the little comments you’d make that had his head spinning in guilt and lust. It’s been too long since he’s slept with a woman and anytime he sees you, he’s reminded of it. Like right now.

He was supposed to be working on a case with his partner, Namjoon, but he was distracted. They worked at the kitchen table but then you came in with a short, fitted black dress that barely covered your butt. Even Namjoon seemed to turn and stare when you opened the fridge and bent down at the waist to look inside. Jungkook’s head rested on his palm as he watched, half hoping your dress would rise just a little more but it didn’t, sadly. He was supposed to be doing all the paperwork that laid across the dinner table, not stare at you rummaging through the fridge.

You pulled out a bottle of pineapple juice, sipping from a straw as Jieun came down just a little more dressed down as she asked, “Is he almost here?”

Jungkook snapped his attention back to you in confusion. Is who almost here? “Are the two of you going out with Yoongi?”

“I am, Y/n’s meeting up with a guy, so lucky you dad, you might get the house to yourself,” Jieun said putting a hand on his shoulder waving a greeting to Namjoon, her father’s friend.

“Don’t miss us too much,” you teased, making him look back at you. “How well do you know this guy?”

“Just enough, we had a couple classes together,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders still sipping on the pineapple juice. He’s sure the taste of the fruit would remain in your body for hours.

Jieun laughed, “Y/n doesn’t need to know him well for her plans tonight.”

You sent her a wink that Jungkook caught and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t feel… jealous? Upset? Annoyed? All of the above? He doesn’t want both of you gone, he’s gotten used to a full house and he doesn’t want to feel lonely again. Jieun he can understand, she’s seeing her boyfriend but you… you’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligation to another man so why can’t you stay home. Despite all the women who notice him, he seems to have a love/hate relationship with the attention you gave him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with you in that sense, but the other was enough to boost his ego. Despite his age he was clearly attractive enough to gain the attention of a 21 year old used to college guys. So, no, he doesn’t want you to go out with one of those guys and remember that Jungkook was a boring lawyer and father of your friend.

“Well he’s outside,” you said looking at your phone, “I guess I’ll head out now.” Jieun joined you when Yoongi sent her the same text and you two were leaving.

“How are you living with that unaffected?” Namjoon finally said once the two of you were out the door. Jungkook shook his head, “I’m not.”

Long after Namjoon left, Jungkook found himself still awake working in his office. It had to be around midnight and he didn’t feel tired, he felt anxious. It stresses him out because why on earth does he feel anxious? He should feel relieved to have time to himself but he doesn’t. He’s currently staring at the clock every five damn minutes. Jieun won’t be coming home, he knows that, but now it looks like you aren’t either.

He shouldn’t care about his daughter’s friend but something about you just draws him in. You were like a succubus in his eyes, a beautiful girl who can draw anyone in and even he fell victim to it. It’s so wrong, you’re too young, you’re his daughter’s friend. But you’re so damn enticing, like every little thing about you. From the way you chew your gum while looking at him to the sway in your hips when you walk. The way you batted your pretty long lashes when you’d ask how his night went. You make little comments that he swears were suggestive that he knew he shouldn’t like, but he does. It makes him blush, honestly.

He knows he’s an attractive man. He’s fit, he’s got the looks, money, age. He has tattoos and piercings and he’s clean. He knows that women at the store try to flirt with him in line. The ones at work always have some favor to ask or some help they need. When he’s at the gym he feels eyes on him but none of it matters. Jungkook has thought about going on dates when he’s been asked and lately he’s been thinking about trying again but he just doesn’t know if he should.

At his age, is it even worth it anymore? His wife of eighteen years cheated on him just three years ago. He doesn’t think about her outside of when it has to do with Jieun but still. That’s the last woman he’s been with, it’s not like he’s your age.

You’re young and a very attractive person. You’ve got the smile, the confidence, the looks, the humor. Honestly, he could go on. He’s thought about it before, you have a way of drawing someone in and clearly it was true. If you’re on a date then obviously you know how to get someone interested, especially if Jieun always jokes about how you string these boys along. Actually, he’s not even sure if what you’re doing now is part of the date.

It’s too late for dinner. That could only mean one thing, you were probably at the guy’s place or maybe a hotel room. If that was the case then clearly you could only be doing one thing. That thought alone was enough to make him stiffen in his chair. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the things you were doing in your little black dress, or even with it off.

Jungkook knows what your body looks like under that dress. He knows that you have a little tattoo on your hip that was only noticeable when you wear one of your tiny bikinis. And god, he shouldn’t, but he feels so damn envious of whoever gets to see what lies under those poor excuses for bikinis. He can only imagine what man you’re with, what hands are touching down your naked body.

The look in your eyes when a certain spot was touched, maybe your back would arch and your hips would buck. Maybe you were sensitive, so damn sensitive that when Jungkook first gets his hands on you, you’ll be dripping in your panties—if you wore any.

Wait.

Fuck.

When did this become an imagination of him being the one touching your body? His jeans seemed to tighten, his member growing more erect with each passing image of you under him. Falling apart with his teasing this time, batting your eyelashes at him like an innocent, sweet girl, when you were anything but. The things he could do to you, teach your body so many different sensations that only he could bring you—

“Mr. Jeon.”

His entire body froze, even the small pulse of his hard length at the sound of your voice. Jungkook snapped his eyes to the door of his office, now more open than before with you standing there looking like a walking sin.

You just called him Mr. Jeon and it seemed to send him back to reality about the fact you were much younger than him. Not only that but a friend of his daughter’s.

“Y/n,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his chair awkwardly, “When did you get home?” Could he call it that? Call it your home when you both know it really isn’t. You giggle softly, pushing off the wall sauntering over to his desk with a little sway.

“Just now, I didn’t want to wake you,” you moved around his desk making him more anxious by the second. He was suddenly too aware of the bulge between his legs due to his perverse thoughts. His hand was suddenly on his lap trying to hide himself when you leaned against the desk, right next to him. Your hands on the wooden table supporting your weight, “But you weren’t even sleeping. Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Jungkook looked into your eyes when you frowned. Your face looked flush, eyes a little red and nose puffy. You had a lazy smile, “And here I thought you were waiting up for me.”

“I didn’t even know if you’d be back,” he looked away when you pushed off the desk, shifting his eyes back to his abandoned files. He kept his gaze stuck on it as you walked behind him with a hand on his shoulder, before there were two. His breath hitched as your hands touched his shoulders. You leaned against his back just briefly and he could smell the alcohol on you. It made him tense and he could feel his back muscles twitch. Your palms flattened against his shoulders before sliding them down toward his collarbone as you said, “I bet that worried you. Not knowing what I might be doing, who I might be with.”

He didn’t say anything, eyes failing to stay open when the fabric of his button up shifted against his skin with each drag of your hands across his shoulders, “What are you doing?”

You just smiled looking down at him. You couldn’t see his face but you could see the angle of his head hanging low. You could see the clenched fist around a fountain pen and an arm conveniently placed on his lap. “You just seem so stressed lately. I want to help you relax.”

“Oh,” his voice strained when you nearly closed your hands around his neck, the unbuttoned top of his shirt nearly exposing more of his chest than he wanted it to. “Y/n.”

He needs it to stop.

This needs to stop.

Now. He could feel it, he was very close to snapping. This isn’t right, not at all. But it’s not entirely wrong and it’s all just confusing him and his dick. He had to think of something else but he didn’t want to tell you to stop touching him even if he knows he should.

“How was your date?” He asked, probably one of the worst things to ask but he did so anyway. You didn’t stop your movements, unaware of the way his lips parted when your nails scraped along his chest. God, it felt so damn good to be touched. It was all he could think about and he didn’t want it to be.

“It wasn’t a date,” you told him, continuing your massage, “We went for drinks and, no, nevermind, I won’t say.” You ended with a deep sigh that had him whipping around to stare at you.

“And?” He asked, finally exposing himself to you with disheveled hair, lust blown eyes, and a wrinkled button up. “What else did you do?”

As he asked and his eyes fell upon your neck, something was building up within him. The sight of the small red mark on your neck, “Well?” His voice was deeper, more stern and definitely not happy. He was jealous and you knew it.

“So you were worried,” you giggled, “Were you thinking about it all night? What I might be doing?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny it but he did look away as if he’d been caught. He couldn’t face you but that didn’t stop you from pushing. This was like the red button.

You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing.

“Well…” you took a long sigh, a soft moan in thought, “After the drinks we went back to his place and well, you know how that goes.”

“Hm,” was all he said and you stopped running your hands along his shoulders. For some reason he was disappointed that you did. You just smiled, “That’s all I can say unfortunately, I missed you too much to stay the night so I got an Uber and came home.”

“Y/n,” his voice was firm but the hair on his arms rose at the raspy tone of your sleepy voice, “What are you doing?”

“Having a conversation with you,” you told him simply as you moved back against his desk, his knee so close to your leg as his chair spun out just a little. His eyes narrowed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t think I do,” even as you said that you bit your lip, “Why don’t you tell me?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly stressed. He can’t just tell you. What if he’s just imagining your touches? Your innuendos? He’s much older than you and for him to be bringing this up was embarrassing enough. So instead of doing it, he just gave up.

“You should go to bed.”

“Are you going to take me?”

It went quiet and you swear his gaze darkened in an instance. You weren’t sure if he was deciphering every meaning behind your response or if he was debating actually doing it. You wanted him to. Just look at him. Whenever you even think about him, every concern for Jieun as a friend completely slips away. He’s just too damn stunning, too damn perfect. The fact that he was older just made it ten times better.

You looked at the clock behind him before saying, “I guess I’ll go, but I’ll miss talking to you.”

“Y/n,” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. You looked back at him as he stared down at where your hand was in his. No.

No. Jungkook, don’t even if you really want to at least get a kiss. No.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat preparing himself to talk, “Goodnight.”

You smiled, “Goodnight.”

You left without another word and the second the door shut behind you a breath of relief was pushed out from his stomach to his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned looking down at his aching member.

He doesn’t think he can resist you the next time.

It happened again a couple nights later. This time around, Jungkook felt even more delusional over it. You were only looking at him but you weren’t being at all appropriate. Especially not now having dinner with Jieun and Yoongi. It was a table of four so he was close to you and God, this was getting harder by the minute—or no, he was.

Your foot was pulling at his pant leg and he had to pretend like it wasn’t affecting him. He listened to you talk to Jieun instead.

“So how was the other night with Jimin?” Yoongi asked you at the dinner table. Jungkook pretended like he wasn’t interested, too focused on his dinner plate. From the corner of his eye is where he watched you. You gave a small shrug, still running your foot past his knee until your leg was on his thigh. He places a hand over your ankle, a small squeeze to try and get you to stop instead of just pushing it away.

His hand was rough with age and work and your foot was smooth. It was big, with long fingers, even his pinky and you wondered what else he could do with them. Jungkook hand began hesitantly caressing your leg as you spoke, “Good, but I’m not going out with him tonight.”

“Someone else?” Yoongi asked as he served you all more food from the middle of the table. You smiled, “Maybe.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he shook your leg off of him. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do with him but he’s a grown man. If you want to do things with him he’s not going to wait around for you to finish up with another guy. Especially with a guy much younger than him who he knows won’t be able to please you like he could. Just from the way you’ve been acting he knows not everyone can handle you. You’re a cocktease and maybe he’s delusional but he knows you want him. So why are you going on a date with another man?

No.

Why does he care?

Why is he thinking about a girl young enough to be his own daughter? Why is he imagining what you’d look like sitting pretty on his dick. Why doesn’t he care that Jieun is sitting on the other side of him and all he wants is to slide his fingers up your leg and under your skirt. He could if he pulled your chair closer. He really could. He feels guilty but not enough to ignore this anymore, they’re only thoughts anyway. He wouldn’t actually do it… no, never.

“Do you want us to drop you off when we leave?” Jieun asked once dinner had been over. You shook your head, “No, I won’t be with him till later. What time are you getting home?”

“I’m not,” Jieun said, patting Yoongi’s stomach, “Staying at his place.”

“Alright, I’ll probably start getting ready.”

Jungkook went to his office when everyone left. He would do more work tonight, now he’s got all the time in the world apparently.

Once again he was going to be alone in the house.

Once again you were going out with another man.

Once again he finds himself thinking about it and feeling irritated.

Jungkook doesn’t know you have something up your sleeve. He doesn’t know that the whole time you were talking with Jieun all you could think about was how to get her father to fuck you how you’ve been craving all summer.

He couldn’t even concentrate on his case files, he could only think about what you were doing. He hasn’t heard the front door or the sound of your heels clacking on the stairs. You must be in your bedroom trying one one of those tiny little dresses you like to wear.

How was he to know what you were currently doing? Was it through the text he just received with your name displayed. He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and clicked on your message. It was a photo.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hand running over his face and into his hair as he looked at it. There’s no mistaking what he’s looking at.

You were sitting on his bed wearing the skimpiest slip of black lingerie he’s ever seen. It was a dress, but it wasn’t even enough to cover the black lace panty you wore. His eyes followed the length of your legs, pressed together so elegantly as you posed in front of his large mirror, perched on the edge of his bed. One of your hands was on your lap, keeping the short dress from showing any sliver of underwear. It was your form of teasing, acting like it was innocent and playing it so poorly, but that’s what you were playing at. You knew what you were doing.

Jungkook knew you were bad news the second he saw you in the pool with his daughter. Even before he saw your body, your eyes were seductive. Your tone was always flirty, and he responded to it. God, since the beginning he would react, always giving a little answer to your flirting, always looking when you wanted him to. Even now, his fingers hovered over the keyboard finding it hard to just tell you to stop. He read over the text attached to the photo.

you: should I wear this out tn?

His breath hitched roughly, tension running through his muscles processing your text. You were apparently showing him something you planned on wearing tonight? Asking for his opinion? Sitting on his bed? There’s no way, absolutely no way you’re doing this to him right now. He dropped his phone on the desk and leaned back against his spinning chair. His hands covered his face, easing some tension away in thought. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t.

You might have really done it this time, you’re not even sure what transpired you to act out this way aside from a selfish need to get what you want. This had started as just a way to not get bored during your summer stay and that was all it was supposed to be. It’s not your fault that Jieun’s dad is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And if things went the way you wanted them too, he would be in the same room as you very soon.

If they didn’t, then it was safe to say you would never show your face around here ever again.

There was a bigger sense of confidence that came with preparing this whole ordeal, but the wait itself broke it down. You were so close to getting up and running out the door when it opened. In walked Jungkook, looking as disheveled as possible but he tried to hold himself together. You looked up at him from your seated position as he took in the sight of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes trailed upwards from your exposed legs to your pretty face. A small choked out groan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You asked standing up to look at yourself in the mirror, “How do I look?”

“Y/n,” his voice was stern, turning to face you, “Don’t play with me.” You didn’t bother taking your eyes off your own reflection, capturing his glare through the mirror. “I’m not, Jungkook, I’m just asking a question.”

“Jungkook?” He asked as you finally turned to him, taking a small step closer. He’s so used to hearing you refer to him as Mr. Jeon teasingly that he forgets what it’s like for you to actually say his name. You nodded, standing in front of him, “Or Mr. Jeon?”

He looked down at you now that you were mere inches away from him and he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. You don’t care who he is, you don’t care if he’s older either. He wanted to tell you this was inappropriate and to leave but he would never kick you out. He wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like it either, “Are you wearing this for a boy?”

A boy. Someone younger than him, probably one of those he’s heard you like and it’s not him. He’s a man, he can really show you what it’s like to feel pleasure. You looked down at your slip dress that had him looking down at your exposed cleavage. Without thinking you pressed a finger into his abdomen lightly, “I’d prefer it if it were for a man.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter away from yours, the sexual tension at a high as he leaned into the touch of your hand as it lowered. You were so close to him, chest nearly against chest and you were wearing so little. He licked at his dry lips, “Why’s that?”

“Guys my age don’t know how to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”

In an instance, any thought of putting a stop to this vanished. Every reminder that you weren’t just an attractive younger woman expressing interest in him, vanished. All it took was the soft whisper of your response into his ear for his body to turn to mush. Jungkook barely shifted his head to the side when your lips met his, hungry and fast. His hand pressed into the back of your head, tangling in your hair, to keep you from moving back but you wouldn’t dare. The only moment your lips separated was during the first press of your tongues, meeting in the middle with the slide of spit.

Jungkook couldn’t get enough, the last time he had even kissed a woman, touched one in this manner, it had been a while. A long while that created such intense build-up when you came along making him break. The hand that hadn’t been laced in your hair was touching your waist gently but firm. It was soft but you could tell you wouldn’t be moving away anytime soon. It didn’t stop your fingers from trailing even lower than his abdomen, to the belt on his jeans. With one hand you began to tug on the belt loop, turning your neck as he began to leave wet, needy kisses down your jaw, your back arching from the way he had to bend over you to kiss your neck.

He released a low, breathless grunt at the rough pull of his zipper, hips moving with the force. The arm he had on your waist pressed you to his side when your hand dipped into the waistband of his briefs. His other hand left the back of your head, sliding down toward your neck, releasing a short moan, “Y/n.”

It has been too long. Too damn long since the last time a woman touched him. No, it’s been long since he let a woman touch him. Jungkook always had many opportunities to see someone but he never did it. He never seeked anyone out for sex, he just let himself take care of his own needs and feel unsatisfied. Now he’s letting someone young enough to be his daughter put their hand on his dick.

And it felt so fucking good. Jungkook stopped his attack on your neck to take a proper inhale, trying to keep himself under control as you palmed his naked member. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft stroke. You kissed down the expanse of his neck feeling the vibrations of his low groan. Your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum. Your fingers brushed along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t wait. He wanted more.

With the hand that he had on your neck, he held you away from him. Your eyes met, both looking blown out and yet you still managed to look so seductive. His eyes shifted back down to your parted lips releasing small pants of breath. He licked his dry lips and with a raspy voice, he said, “Get on the bed.”

You looked down at his cock that still felt heavy in your grip. With your eyes locked with his, you moved to the bed sitting on the back of your legs, arms on your lap looking oh-so-obedient. His breath hitched at the sight and he was quickly undressing himself the rest of the way standing naked before you as you sat looking pretty in your little black dress. He got on his knees letting them sink to the mattress as you got up too.

A shiver ran down your spine at the feel of Jungkook’s rough fingers running across your shoulders to lower the thin straps of the dress. They trailed down your back softly, catching the ribbon that tied it together against your spine, and undid it The thin, silky fabric dropped down on the bed revealing more of yourself to him. Jungkook looked down at your chest, he was used to the size of them. All summer long you were showing off your pretty tits in tight tops and slutty bikinis, and yet the full view was so much more. Your nipples were pointed out, sensitive from being exposed and his rough, large hands cupped them. You released a quiet whine as his fingers pinched your nipples. Jungkook’s jaw was open, speechless at how soft you felt in his hands, “You’re such a pretty girl.”

You nodded, biting into your lip when he lowered his head to place a kiss on the plumpness of your breast. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders not wanting to stop when his tongue swiped at your nipple, licking it before sucking it into his mouth. Jungkook traveled his hands down to your thong, groping your ass before getting a hold on the material. With little effort on his end, he tore one side at your hips and did the same to the other until it was coming apart from your legs. Your underwear was left ruined as he held you by the waist, guiding you on top of him as he moved to lie back. You didn’t say anything, only soft moans leaving your lips at the way he moved your body around to his liking. You were both fully naked now and he guided you to turn away from him, gripping your thighs as he backed you up to his head and you got the hint.

Jungkook was being impatient, he needed to feel everything. He couldn’t wait to taste your pussy or to feel the tightness of your throat constrict around his large cock. He wanted to do it all now, not later. Later he can explore slowly, learn every way you want to be touched. Because if you think he’s going to be done with you after one round, you’re wrong. He moved his elbows under your knees making sure your thighs hugged the sides of his head and his body shivered. Just above his face was the prettiest little cunt he’s ever seen. Slick coated the outside and pooled at the center. Your clit was in view and the way you arched your back made your pussy pop out more. He swallowed dryly.

How did he manage to get this sight in front of him? He was a fool to think he could withstand your games, clearly not. But he can’t just let you toy with him, he’ll show you how to make a woman cum.

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his thighs, nails digging into the muscle at his boldness. Your mouth parted in silent moans as his hands pinched your hips, pressing you down further against his mouth, getting the first taste of pussy he’s had in years—even before his divorce. You better believe that he was not doing this to his ex wife the months leading up to separating. Even if he was, nothing would have compared to how eager and wet you were.

“Da—Ju-Jungkook… ” You whimpered as you brought his cock toward your mouth, tongue swiping along his side in hopes of bringing pleasure to him fast. Your tongue began from the base of his cock where his neatly trimmed hair ended, licking all the way to his tip. From there you wrapped your lips around his head letting your tongue swipe along the slit that released clear dribbles of precum. As best as you could, you tried to relax your throat, guiding him down as far as you could.

The feeling of a warm and tight mouth around his dick had him moaning. His eyes rolled in pleasure as his thighs tensed, “Oh fuck, Y/n,” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “Your mouth feels so good.”

Lewd sounds came from your mouth with each thrust of his cock down your throat, tongue licking as much of his length as you could. Jungkook was getting messier with the need to bring you to an orgasm with his tongue. Slick sounds formed every time he lapped his tongue between your pussy lips, nipping at your clit with each swipe. His fingers were digging small crescents into the roundness of your ass as he made you ride his face harder.

“Oh my god,” you cried out like a whiny brat as your hips twitched in pace with the cool in your lower belly. Jungkook placed a hand behind your head not to apply pleasure but to keep you in place. “Oh my god,” you repeated and you were so damn loud, so shameless with your moans and he’s only used his mouth so far. He’s so thankful you never tried this when Jieun was home. He wouldn’t be able to keep you quiet if his dick was in your tight snatch.

Jungkook was relentless, licking at your cunt even as you released your juices all over his tongue. He ate you out through your orgasm, letting it dribble down his chin that he pressed against your clit, shaking. He was close, so fucking close but if he cums it’s going to be in your pussy. He needs it now.

You nearly fell to your side as he moved you off his lap and you collapsed onto the bed, hand feeling around against the comforter to find your little item. He was too busy fixing himself between your legs to notice you touch a small black package. You picked up the condom moving it in front of him and he took it without a word. Jungkook felt like his hands were shaking as he put it on. The anticipation of being inside you was building up and making him jittery. You were going to be so sensitive with the way he ate your pussy and he was so hard it will be very hard to be gentle. His hips dipped down as his hand lined his cock between your folds. Wetness stuck to the condom, and he began a slow grind making sure to touch your clit as he did so. His hands pressed against the bed near your ribs and looked at the sight. You brought a hand down between your legs, spreading your slick around his cock hoping to get him to just fuck you already. You didn’t want him to tease you or stretch you or gently talk you through it. You want him to stuff you full of his cock and tell you much of a bad girl you are.

You don’t know how to explain but he was such a man. Not a boy, not a college guy or late-twenties coworker. He was a man who worked out every day, trimmed his body hair, cooked meals and did yard work all while looking so unbelievably hot. He would take care of you, he has been taking care of you and you wanted him inside of you now.

With your hand already against his cock you took a hold of him as you lined him up with your entrance hearing a soft grunt leave his lips. Jungkook was going to stop you and do it himself but he found it so much hotter to feel you guide his cock into your pussy. The softest pussy he’s ever felt, hugging his dick with warmth and wetness. Sucking him in as far as you could take him and dragging along his length as he pulled back in a nervous twitch. He won’t last, he won’t last at all

“Come on Mr. Jeon, show me how a real man fu—ohh,” he sank back in, the same vacuum sealed feeling hugging his cock and he found it hard to pull back out. Jungkook was quiet, too focused in the need to just fuck that he’s not paying attention. He’s doing what feels good until you tell him to stop. His hands snuck between the mattress and your ass, finding purchase as he lied down against your body. His knees dug into the bed and the muscles in his thighs flexed with the first real hit of his hips against yours, cock digging in just a little further. Your arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby when his hands held your butt so tightly that your hips lifted off the bed. He fucked you onto his cock, back flexing with each thrust that made his spine protrude in his arched form in an animalistic way.

Jungkook was so turned on, so close to the edge that he wanted to scream. He could hold off so much longer but not right now. Not while your moans tickled his ears and your skin was hot under his mouth with each kiss he placed on your neck. You moaned loudly, “I’m so close, oh… daddy, ohh.”

“Shh,” Jungkook mumbled against your throat, “Just cum baby, be a good girl and cum for me. I want to feel your slutty pussy cum around my clock.” He was so close, he just needed the final push and he wouldn’t be so desperate to get off.

Like before, the only warning you gave to your release was the tremble in your thighs. Jungkook released a low growl that made your throat bob as you practically hugged each other with the way he still held your ass to his cock, both coming undone at once.

Jungkook was heaving for air, legs shaking as he set you back down the inch he lifted you up. Your walls still clenched and unclenched around him and he had to turn you both on your side to be more comfortable as he began to pull out.

He rolled onto his back, hand on chest as he looked up at the sky, “Fuck.”

You smiled moving to sit lips placing a kiss to the line between his feelings the way he gasped for air. You wondered if you’d have to wait for a second round another day. “You’re still hard.”

It was true, despite the puddle of thick semen on his lower stomach, he was still hard, and your hand running up his thighs wasn’t helping. Jungkook looked down at you, “Condom?”

“I’m out but I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook wanted to be more rational but he could. He still needed to feel you on his cock. “Come sit on my dick, pretty baby.”

With a flirty smile you did as told, quickly swinging your legs around his hips as you held his cock up, Jungkook had to bite his lip hard to hold back the moan he was going to let out. This time around, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to place his hands on your hips and push you down his length.

“Y/n,” he moaned as you began to ride him, grinding against his base every time you sank down on his dick. You’d raise your hips and drop them back down against his with a smack. “Fuck, tightest fucking pussy. Fuck, look at you.”

You were such a sight with your pretty face displaying pleasure, your first bouncing with how hard you rode him, belly button ring glistening every time light reflected off the jewels. Jungkook’s hand ran over it before coming up to your breasts. “All summer, teasing me with this body, leaving me to jerk off in the shower to the image of it.”

Your pussy twitched at his words, “I touch myself to the thought of you, Mr. Jeon, I’ve been dreaming of this cock in my pussy.”

Your words traveled straight to his dick, pulsing at the idea of you with your fingers in your cunt fucking yourself to him. You were riding him with such eagerness that the bed shook with each bounce of your hips and his hand couldn’t help but spank your ass urging you on. Once again he felt himself close and he wanted to warn you. He was waiting to know for sure if he was going to when everything seemed to stop except the bounce of your hips splitting your cunt open with his cock. His eyes shot to the bedside table where your phone sat facing up, Jieun’s picture on screen.

His heart stopped, trying to get you to slow down but it was too late. He was reminded of your age and relationship with his daughter. You reached for it before he could stop you and pressed it against your ear fighting his hand that reached for it, “Hello?”

“Hey ugly, is my dad home? He’s not answering his phone.” Jieun asked through the phone. You looked down at Jungkook who shook his head with pleading eyes for you to stay still but not stop. He still needed to cum.

“He probably left in his room,” you said the last words with a grind of your hips that had him biting into his knuckles to fight back a moan. You sat straighter, enjoying the stretch of his cock, “Is there something you want me to tell him before I leave?”

His eyes shifted to you now. What do you mean leaving? You sent him a smile, shaking your head to assure him you didn’t mean it and that you wanted to have fun with him all night. Jieun signed, “Just tell him that I left the keys to Benz on the mantle.”

“Mmm, okay,” you said softly as Jungkook began to respond with his hips bucking to meet yours. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve gotta go Jieun, I’m about to leave, I’ll tell him.”

You hung up with that and he took your phone dropping it on the mess of pillows on the floor before sitting up to hug your body fo his, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”

“She left the keys to the car on the mantle,” you moaned out as his face dug into your perky breasts, nuzzling into them. He growled in frustration, grinding your hips on his length, “I already know, fuck she interrupted us for that?”

“While I’ve got her best friend riding my cock like the little slut she is?” He licked your nipple and his words had you moaning, shaking in his hold. He really didn’t seem to care anymore.

He was fucking you from below, sitting you on his lap and making you bounce on his cock, “You like fucking your friend’s dad? You like older man dick?

“Yes, fuck Jungkook, only yours,” You moaned making his chest blossom with pride at your words. With your affirmation, he moved onto his knees, hands under your ass as he fucked you onto his cock.

“Gonna cum for me? Is my baby gonna cum on my cock?” He asked with a coo but with a deep tremor in his voice, “Yeah baby? Such an eager brat, look at you.”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he went faster.

When you came undone, Jungkook took you off his cock. He couldn’t be gentle with it as he came all over himself. A hand was on his dick as he eased himself through his second orgasm of the night looking over to you. You were tired after your own third orgasm and toppled onto his bed. Jungkook knew he should feel some form of guilt but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his hand over your back to your ass as you laid on your stomach. Your perky little ass taunting him so much that he leaned down and place a kiss on it, biting lightly into the plump flesh making you shake your hips from sensitivity. He gave it a final smack.

Maybe when the sex-fueled fog leaves his mind he’ll realize the damage he’s done.

He fucked a woman much younger than him, fucked you real good.

He had let himself be seduced by a total nymph.

His daughter’s friend.

Yet all he could say as he lied down on his back to catch his own breath before a possible third round was…

“You’re such a good girl when you’re taking dick.”

He had about a month before you and Jieun left back to school and he was going to make it worth your while. You’ll never want younger men again. You’ll want his cocking fucking into you every time he visits Jieun. He’ll sneak into your dorm when she’s at work and fuck you with all the pent up desire he’ll have from not having your body in months.

And you’ll take every inch he gives you like a good girl.

REQUEST 1

::.

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa

collab taglist: @blueberrysoda @cupidguk @weirdorathexplora @purpleguk @exactlygreatcoffee @minnie-mouser22 @bangtans-momma @royallyjjk @iceykoo @tae-hibiscus @happygolucky7777 @taeslarityy @jeonzll @errewaythings @kmadelin @bloopkook @anjcrbnll @literaturenutz @absolutelyjeons @strawberrysweetness @jungkookminthairwhen @sincerelyflora @twilight-loveer @heartjiminie @outro-kook @blueberrysungie @r0ttenbeans @koo-kz @allfryou @takochelle @kookies-n-spice @bighitbabie @jjkreblog @queenmasterxx

a/n whewww look at that taglist 😮‍💨also this was so fun to write and just imagine dilf jk 🤩

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #dilf jungkook #dilf smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #kooktrash collab #bts smut #dilf bts #bts jungkook #bts imagines #guys my age

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nariism · 11 months

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{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

#— whispers in the wind ✧#not proofread :p i'm sorry #genshin impact #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fluff #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fic #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin

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heich0e · 5 months

Text

suna recently moved into a new place.

the building he's in now is much nicer than the last one he lived in, and in an even better part of town, too—it's a newly built place that's still only half-occupied, leaving him with so few neighbours on his floor that he claims sometimes it feels like he's got the whole building to himself.

living in a new-build (a half-build, technically, since there's still active construction happening in some of the units on other floors) presents its own unique challenges, though. since no one's ever lived in his unit before him, he's sort of like the guinea pig; the first to discover which of the design elements are functional and which aren't. like how the tap in his bathroom had accidentally been installed backwards, so the hot and cold water markers were switched—a realization he regrettably only came to after stepping into an ice cold shower for the first time.

or how the intercom system in the building isn't quite up and running yet, so every time he has guests over he has to come all the way down to the lobby to let them in himself.

"wow, what are the chances of running into you here?" rintarou drawls as he opens the building door for you, allowing you to step in out of the cool night outside.

pretty good, you'd wager, because he knew you were coming and had to be here to let you in.

you're too tired to make any sort of snarky remark though, shooting him a pointed look instead as you step past him in the doorway and into the lobby's warmth. coming to suna's place had been a last minute decision made late in the evening when a poorly-timed (or well-timed on his part) text landed in your inbox; you weren't dressed for the weather, but had been close enough to walk from the little bar where a few of your friends had gathered that evening.

"cold out?" he asks you as he lets the door swing shut, turning and following along behind you as you begin making your way towards the elevator.

"freezing," you reply, still holding your coat tightly around your frame. you're narrowly fighting back the way your teeth threaten to chatter.

"sorry, I came down as soon as you called to tell me you were on your way," rintarou frowns a little as he takes in the way you have your arms wrapped around yourself for warmth.

"no, i know," you wave off his concern, pressing the UP button on the panel next to the elevator in the lobby. "i should have called sooner but i didn't want to take my hands out of my pockets since it was so cold on the walk here."

you'd only fished your cellphone out of your pocket when the building was in sight a few metres down the road, preserving every little bit of warmth you could for as long as possible.

"you know, you wouldn't need to wait for me to let you in if you'd just let me give you a key fob."

the elevator doors slide open to take you both up to rintarou's floor, and your glance over at him from the corner of your eye as the two of you step inside.

you don't want one of suna's key fobs. firstly because he'd already broken the only spare he had thanks (indirectly) to you—having once tried to toss it down from his third floor balcony while you were waiting out front in the middle of the night. it had landed on the pavement underfoot and shattered into approximately a million pieces—leaving him down to only the one connected to his own key ring. he'd told you it really wasn't that expensive to get his building manager to replace it, but you'd vehemently spurned the suggestion, which brings you to the second point—

having a key to rintarou's place (however temporary) just feels too... serious.

too serious for you and him, and whatever this decidedly unserious thing between you is, anyway.

"who's to say you won't destroy that one too?" you brush off his suggestion as the elevator doors slide closed.

the inside of the elevator still has those thick, padded blankets hanging up to protect the mirrored walls while they finish construction, and still have people constantly moving boxes and furniture and whatever else into the vacant units units. it makes the already confined space feel even smaller, and you try to ignore it as suna presses the button for his floor on the panel off to the side of the doors.

"fine, freeze then," rintarou shrugs, but you can feel his eyes on the side of your face.

"the cold wasn't even the bad part," you sigh, wincing a little as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. "i haven't worn these boots out before and my feet are killing me."

suna glances down at your feet, taking in the knee high boots you have on your feet.

"oh," he says, his tone a bit different now in a way that makes you look at him suspiciously. "those are nice."

"you're such a freak," you laugh under your breath and he peeks up at you without a hint of guilt on his face.

"i mean it," he insists.

"i know you do," you snort.

the elevator dips slightly as it arrives to rintarou's floor, and it makes you wobble a bit unsteadily. rintarou wraps his arm around your waist to steady you without missing a beat.

"they really hurt that bad?" he asks, peering down at you curiously.

from this close you can see just how unfairly long his eyelashes are, and how they flutter as he blinks down at you. you hate how nice it is to feel his warmth seeping into you when he holds you like this. you hate the thought of him stepping away again even more.

"yeah, it's my own fault though," you answer quietly.

the elevator doors slide open, and you move to step out, but rintarou rushes ahead of you. you watch, confused, as he crouches down just on the other side of the threshold of the sliding doors.

"really?" you ask him with a laugh, rolling your eyes as he waits for you to climb up on his back.

but it's late, and you're tired, and your feet hurt.

(and you really like how warm he is, even if you'll never say it.)

so you carefully hop on, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, and let him carry you off in the direction of his apartment—endlessly grateful for how few units on his floor are leased, and therefore how your chances of running into anyone in your current state are lowered.

you can only see the slightest bit of rintarou's profile while he carries you like this, but you can tell even from the glimpse you get that he's looking awfully smug as he carries you to his door.

"don't look so pleased with yourself," you mutter, squeezing your legs a bit tighter around his waist in warning.

rintarou's hands slip down from where he was loosely holding you behind your knees until they grasp your thighs and the leather upper of your boots.

"these really are nice you know," suna remarks quietly, his thumbs brushing along some of the stitching at the sides.

"i'm not keeping them on in bed," you warn him flatly, his apartment door now in sight at the other end of the hall.

"why not?" suna sounds so plaintive it almost makes you laugh. his grip slips all the way down to your ankles now. "it's not like they can hurt your feet while you'll be on your back, anyway."

"rintarou!" you hiss, slapping one of your hands over his mouth to shut him up, scandalized at what he's said in the middle of the hallway—lack of neighbours or not.

you feel his lips spread in an obnoxious grin under your palm, but you don't dare pull it away.

"keep it up and you're getting thrown off the balcony next, pervert."

#lol nobody look at me #tw feet #<- this is more for my own peace of mind (there is no peace of mind for me to have when it comes to this guy)#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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smokeypeaches-and-honeyplums · 9 days

Note

may I request headcanons for Wukong, MK, Red Son, and Macaque finding out their crush or S/O has a snort laugh that they try to hide?

please and thank you

PLEASE?????????????? GOD I HAVE A SNORT LAUGH TOO AND THIS FEELS SO PERSONAL I'M GONNA BLOW UP

Reader is Gender Neutral by default

S/O

MK absolutely LOVES to make people laugh and you are no different

So when he finds out you have a snort laugh, he REVELS in it

To him, it's a sign that he's doing a really good job and! It's really fucking adorable for him

If you're self conscious about it, he won't push you too much about it

He'd never want you to feel uncomfortable while you're with him, so he'll never push further than he's allowed

He'll always express how much he loves it when he gets the chance to though, don't get me wrong

Eventually, it gets to the point he develops his own and it's a never ending cycle between you two

It feels nice to have a bit more of a positive about your snort, but it does hurt after a while--

MK gets worse when he purposefully does what he knows makes you laugh the most

Your nose and throat hurts by the end of it

If you're laughing especially hard, he'll be grinning ear to ear at just the sound of it

He's glad to have ONE consistency in his life, what with everything that goes on

So if he can listen to your laugh before the next crisis, that's enough for him

(THEY TOOK MY YELLOW TEXT--)

Crush

(darkskinredsontruthertilIdie)

You so happened to slip up one day when Redson heard it the first time around, immediately trying to hide it right after

He didn't think much of it, not in the way you'd think at least

He always associated it as another irritating staple that he loves so much about you and infuriates him that it is

Like, excuse me

How dare you have the most charming, cute and cheeky laugh he's ever heard?

A peasant like you shouldn't be making his heart soar so much and so easily all the damn time

What the fuck >:(

Redson wouldn't trying to fish for it as much as the others, his pride prevents him

But he does savour the moments you do do it, don't get me wrong

However, when he sees you hide it every time right after, a part of him wants to try and ease your worries. At least, that's what he thinks

"You know... you shouldn't feel like you should hide your laugh."

"For all the annoying little quirks you have, this one is..."

"It's... endearing."

Silence.

Silence...

"Redson? Are you going soft on me?"

"NO! No- Do not-"

"D'awwww, you care!!"

"Redson cares for me!!"

"Know what?! Forget I said anything."

Cue the laughter, only this time with a bit more snorting given his reassurance in his own special, Redson way

In your fits of laughter, you miss a small smile growing on the demon prince's lips

In all your teasing, it's worth it to see you like this

Crush

Wukong has a tendency to be cheeky to the tenth degree and then some

So trust and believe he already knows

And he REVELS in it

He likes the sound of your laugh in general, so the fact he manages to get you laughing so much that you start snorting makes his heart do flips

He doesn't like that you try to hide it, but he'd be the last person to talk about not hiding something you're self conscious about

Given the whole shared headcanon of glamour, it becomes pot and kettle

Has that ever stopped him tho?

So why would it now?

He tries to get you to feel more comfortable with your laugh because he finds it very important to him

Is it another reason amongst a sea on why he loves you?

Yeah

Will he admit it?

No-

Well?

Not now-

Ahem

Anyways, when he hears your genuine laughter, he's shining like the sun and absolutely BEAMING with joy and whines when you hide it

"NONONO, don't hide it! I love your laugh!"

"Don't hide it please :("

Pulls out the big guns (puppy dog eyes) just to make you agree

"Fine"

Happy Monkey <3

Of course, he genuinely does try to make sure you're comfortable about it and reassures you in his own Monkey King way, so don't be too worried.

S/O

Like Wukong, Macaque is the last person to tell you not to hide something, the scoundrel

Motherfucker is hiding EVERYTHING

Smoke and Mirrors the character™

But, that has never stopped him before

With that established, given how all doom and gloom this brooding monkey is, he finds solace in your laughter, and he's picked up on your snorting even when you try to hide it

He hears all

But, unlike the others, he won't push you or try to convince you to reveal something you don't feel like revealing

He would know how that feels personally

And if Macaque is anything at all, he's self aware. enough

He'll let you get comfortable laughing in front of him to your fullest at your own time, while giving you quiet reassurance now and again

Once you're sure he won't judge you for it and you're fully comfortable, your laughter makes him the warmest he's felt in so long

Who would've thought? The Six-Eared Macaque has a heart!/j

161 notes · View notes

earthtooz · 2 years

Note

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself.

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one.

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity.

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop.

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?”

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his.

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face.

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude.

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired.

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands.

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support.

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you.

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult.

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.”

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands.

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness.

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you.

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.”

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.”

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you.

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating.

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him.

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself.

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him.

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night.

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks.

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.”

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement.

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.”

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together.

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness.

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own.

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only.

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way.

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll.

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.”

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs.

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake.

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face.

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances.

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?”

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

#oh everyone is SO ooc but meh #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabble #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #kaiser x reader #isagi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo drabble #reo fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser drabble #isagi drabble

4K notes · View notes

fairyhaos · 10 months

Text

❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold

notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too

There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.

“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”

“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”

Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.

“How sick are you?”

“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”

You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.

He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”

“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”

Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”

“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”

“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”

“Come take care of me anyway.”

“No.”

You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”

That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”

“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”

Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.

He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.

───────────── 🧂

You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.

At least, you think it’s been five hours.

Maybe it’s been less than that.

Whatever. Time is weird.

The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.

“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”

Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.

“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”

That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead.

Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.

His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.

“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”

You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.

“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.

“Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”

You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart.

Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being.

You blink again, slowly.

Oh.

By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.

“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”

He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.

But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.

“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.

Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.

“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”

Out of the bag, he pulls out…

A fluffy bunny plushie.

You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”

“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”

“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”

Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”

You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.

“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.

Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”

You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap.

“Duh. I love you too much not to.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

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chelleztjs18 · 10 months

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Somewhere In The Multiverse (W.M)

Scarlet Witch x Fem!MultiverseVariantReader! (Avengers AU)

Summary: After Westfield, as The Scarlet Witch, Wanda is in her endless journey to find her boys through the multiverse until one particular universe caught her attention.

Warning: None, I guess this is just something domestic with a sprinkle of angst. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/n: Hello! I'm back! I finally got this fic done after a while. I wrote the parts towards the ending when I'm down, so I couldn't really focus. Please bear with me if some part a little wonky or doesn't make sense. lol. Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Five long dreadful years after Vision died and a guilt filled year after everything that happened in Westview, Wanda still desperately searches for her happiness. The longing for the happy life with Vision and her twin sons drew her to the Darkhold.

To Wanda, it’s the only way for her to get them back. Being the fast learner and powerful witch she is, she easily figured out ways to look around in different universes.

Universe after universe, Wanda sees different kinds of happy life her variants have with them. She can hear her son’s laughter. Different scenarios of life she dreamt about exist in another universe until there’s one that intrigues her.

In this one universe, no matter how many times she sees through it, Wanda only sees Billy and Tommy. They live happily just like in the others but she never sees herself nor Vision in it. The more she observes it the more she is drawn to it. Questions popped up in her mind. Do Vision and her exist in that particular universe? With whom do Tommy and Billy live? Who is the person behind their laughter and smile?

Wanda spends more time focusing on it and clues start to show up. She starts to see another figure with her twin sons, you.

Wanda never gets the chance to see your face. Every single time she tries to find out, she can only see the back of you. She doesn’t recognize you, your voice nor from your appearance. All of these surely drags her curiosity up to the surface of her mind.

With all the spells and ritual she learnt from The Darkhold, she decided to pay this universe a visit.

With an ease, Wanda gets into this different life in a different world yet seems to be familiar. She looks around and she figures that she is in the house where her sons live. Wanda instantly feels peaceful. At first it felt weird for her about how much she feels like she is home.

It's really calm and quiet. The house feels warm and cozy in her heart. Just like how she always dreams about even though part of her is wondering where the twins are. All the colors, furniture and decoration around seems like welcoming her home.

Wanda continues wandering around, her sights jumping from one spot to another. She even feels that she is attached to this universe, something that she never feels when she watches the others. Her hands start to touch around the couch, the coffee table and she lands her interest on one black shelf near the televisions. She found some books, a few of them are the ones that she read before. Her fingers keep slowly sliding around the lines of books on the shelves.

Another shelf on the other side really caught her attention. A mix of rows of movies and records on it. Wanda tilts her head curiously as soon as she sees a series of old sitcoms. Including her favorite ones that she used to watch with her parents. The urge she has inside her to pull the movies out and play it but she manages to control it and just looks at them with her glossy green eyes.

Wanda proceeded to look around more. She sees pictures on the walls, other tables and more shelves. A shaky soft gasp escaped her lips. She takes a closer look at the hung frames with mixed pictures of Tommy and Billy.

Wanda sees pictures of Tommy with his baseball team and a picture of him holding a big fish that he caught when he went fishing with you. She continues looking at the next pictures. She sees a picture of Billy winning his archery competition and all other random silly pictures of both of them.

Tears started to slowly fill her eyes. She can feel her hands getting a little shakier. Without hesitation, Wanda gently touches the face of the twins in the picture lovingly. Her lips quivered, a huge wave of emotions suddenly crashed onto her.

All mixed up feelings fill her heart, even Wanda herself doesn’t even know if it was happy tears or sad ones.

She wipes her tears right after she finds a few more pictures. Pictures that have herself from this universe in it with brown hair all smiling together with you in it. She sees you kiss her cheeks in one picture and she hugs you so close in the other. Some pictures have the four of you in it, as a happy family. Slowly bits and pieces of Wanda’s own conclusion start to gather around her mind. A little stack of mail on a table caught her attention.

“Y/n Y/L/N” Wanda mumbles under her breath reading the name on the envelopes. Wanda figures that it’s your name.

All of a sudden, Wanda hears something and it breaks her focus on the pictures. She is aware that someone is coming.

She hears familiar voices and suddenly she hears Billy scream for help. “Tommy, help me!”

“My boys.” she says under her breath at the same time with red wisps showing up wrapping around her hands. Wanda was ready to fight whoever dared to hurt them.

“No. This is why I suggested you pick a violin for the music class, not the Cello. Now, you can barely bring your other school stuff because it’s bigger than you.” Tommy replies with his straight to the point thoughts.

Wanda’s red wisps quickly disappeared and she let out a relieved sigh. A smile curves on her face hearing the conversation but right away turns to a confused frown after she hears your voice.

“Tommy, be nice to your brother and help him please. My hands are full with the groceries.” Wanda notices how gentle you talk to the boys and it draws her smile back. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.” Tommy agrees in defeat.

Few seconds later, Wanda manages to manipulate the surroundings as soon as you and the twins walk into the house. Neither you or the boys see her there. Wanda hears Tommy’s complaining question. “Who likes to listen to Cello anyways?” The boys take off their shoes in random spots while you walk to the kitchen.

“Mommy does. So do I. You boys have to be supportive of each other, okay.” You answered as you put all the groceries on the kitchen counter. “Okay, Mama.” The twins’ voices overlap each other.

Wanda was surprised when they called you Mama. Are they your kids too? What about Vision? What happened to him? With all those confused and intrigued thoughts she follows them to their room, watching them put all their school stuff back to their shared bedroom but right after that they run back to the kitchen to help you.

It was very difficult for Wanda to hold herself back to not appear in front of the three of you and hug the twins but she didn’t want to scare everybody. She continues watching in silence every move you make.

“Mama, are you going to make chicken paprikash on Mommy’s birthday?” Tommy asks with a cute tone.

“Yes, I will, sweetheart.. We will celebrate it together with her favorite food.” you answer with a soft smile. Wanda has been too busy with the Darkhold and the multiverse and hearing that reminds her that it’s almost her birthday too. Since Pietro died, Wanda never celebrated her birthday anymore, she could care less about it. Surprisingly, what she is seeing from you and the boys drags her curiosity about this whole birthday thing in the next week.

Wanda spends the rest of the day watching you and the boys, thinking that the variant of herself in this universe will come. Wanda is really curious to see her but at the end of the night she starts to wonder why the variant isn’t home yet.

Seeing you put the boys to bed and you get ready to bed after as if you have been doing it by yourself for quiet sometimes makes her think of a temporary conclusion that your Wanda probably is on a mission.

Wanda keeps going back to your universe in the last few days, watching how your days and life go with the twins. The longer Wanda is around you and watches everything, the more she sees that you are very great with the twins. You take very good care of them and it’s undeniable that they love you so much. The boys are very close with you. They make you laugh as much as you make them. It warms Wanda’s heart seeing everything. Sometimes she doesn’t even realize that a smile always curls up on her face whenever she sees you smile and laugh. Wanda’s adoration towards you slowly built up in the last few days.

Sometimes you can feel someone’s watching or even feel like a familiar figure is in the room with the three of you. There are these unexplainable feelings you feel in you. You feel like you are complete again whenever you feel that presence around after all these years. You feel.. less lonely but you shrug the feelings off, thinking it was just probably because you miss your Wanda so much.

Days have passed and today is Wanda’s birthday. Deep down she is excited to see what will you and the boys do today even though part of her knows that it’s all for her variant, not her.

Wanda sees you wake up but she can’t figure out if you look happy or sad. It’s your Wanda’s birthday, why wouldn’t you look happy? Her thought starts to wonder. You sit up but your head hangs low as your hands cover your face for a few seconds as you take a deep breath. “Happy birthday Wanda.” you mumble under your breath. Confused, Wanda’s head tilted a little.

Your hands rub your face and you try to make a smile as soon as you hear running steps coming to your room and Wanda notices everything.

The crease on her forehead fades right away and a smile comes up right after she sees Billy and Tommy come into the room and get on the bed to hug you.

“Ma! Oh great, you are awake!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Oh good morning to both of you, my little monkeys! Of course I’m awake.” You tease them as you hug them back.

“Yeah Tommy. Mama wouldn’t forget Mommy’s birthday today. She already got everything planned, right Mama?” Billy asks.

“Of course! We gonna cook mommy’s favorite dish—”

“Paprikash! It’s our favorite too!” The boys’ voices overlap competing to finish your words. You laugh. “Yes, yes. Paprikash, it’s our favorite.” Wanda accidentally chuckles watching all the sweet conversation that is happening. You quickly look back to where you thought you hear the little chuckles. You could’ve sworn you hear a familiar sound behind you and again, you feel the warm presence. Wanda takes notice of what is going on.

“Oh and the cake! Will you let us help make the cake too?” Tommy questions you and brings your focus back on them.

“Of course buddy. I always let you and your brother make Mommy’s cake. She always likes the cake you two make.” you playfully play with their hair.

“Yes!” Billy and Tommy exclaimed excitedly at the same time and did high fives with each other. “Okay okay, now go take a shower and get ready for the day. I will make breakfast for you. After breakfast, I want you to do your homeworks first before you two go playing. I will let you boys know when it’s time to cook and bake for Mommy’s birthday okay?” You gently tell them and they nod before they both run out of your room.

Meanwhile you, you walk towards where you felt the warm presence earlier. Wanda nervously takes a step back when you get closer. Her brain was sure and remembered what she learnt from the dark hold that you shouldn’t be able to see her or know that she was there after she casted this particular spell. Wanda can’t lie to herself that she feels this little spark and maybe a connection with you. Her heart skips a beat when you stand right in front of her.

“Wands, are you here? I miss you so much.” you whisper softly with a very sad desperate tone. Hearing your sad voice got her thinking that something isn’t right. It led her to pay more attention to little details that she might have missed.

Series of activities you and the boys have been doing and how much fun the three of you have draws Wanda’s urge to show herself to you but she knows it’s not the time just yet. At least not until she sees her variant.

The paprikash and the cake are finally ready and it’s still only the three of you. Wanda is perplexed even more when you and the boys do not even bother to wait and have the dinner together then proceed to the cake.

Her own curiosity is killing her when Billy, Tommy and you sing happy birthday without the variant is even there. You blow the candles together right after.

No video call or call? What’s going on? Perhaps she is on a secret mission that doesn't even allow a simple birthday call?

At the end of the night, you put the boys to bed. Wanda follows you walk to the kitchen to do the dishes.

You look calm at first, doing your chores. The house sounds a lot more quiet when the boys are asleep, soft low volume from the TV makes its way to be heard every now and then. Wanda notices little changes on your facial expressions gradually. She thinks that you look exhausted but as Wanda is turning around to go to check on the boys she hears you start to cry.

She finds you bawling in such sadness. Wanda starts to think that you look broken-hearted. Between sniffling and crying, you mumble but clear enough for her to hear. “I miss you so much, Wanda. I really wish you were here. I wish you never did what you did. Please come back.”

Seeing how hurt you are and how you mumbled in anguish makes Wanda’s heart ache and curious at the same time. What happened? Does it mean her variant isn’t on a mission as Wanda thought she was?

You start to sob as quietly as you can. Standing behind you, she feels the urge to calm you down even though she doesn’t really know you. Her eyes slowly turn glossy. Wanda can’t help it. Unbeknownst to you, she casted a spell and made herself slowly visible.

“Y/n, I–i’m so sorry for whatever happened to your..uh partner.” She said hesitantly yet full of concern for you as she gently touched your shoulder.

Wanda didn’t think it through. What she just did startled you. You gasp loudly and turn around in a split second very very shocked. Your face instantly loses its color as if you just saw a ghost, the ghost of the love of your life.

“Wa–Wanda? Is..Is..Is that you? No. No. That can’t be you. Who are you?!” You rapidly walk back to whichever direction you can just to get away from Wanda. You start to grab whatever you can reach and throw it at her. The twins’ plastic cup, forks, spatula, coffee mug, even a roll or paper towel. Her magic dodges everything right on time before it hits her. Panic and terrified, your instinct leads your hurried steps to your set of knives. You grab them one by one, and throw it at her with the thought of fighting for your life so you can go save the boys.

Once again, the red wisps do its work. It stops each knife at ease and keeps them frozen still mid air. One of the knives was stopped an inch right before her forehead. You see that she doesn’t even flinch. Wanda grabs it and puts it on the kitchen counter gently and then looks at you.

“Who the fuck are you? You are not Wanda.” you demand answers.

“I am Wanda Maximoff. Who–” Wanda answers but you didn’t let her finish.

“No! You are not Wanda! It’s impossible! My wife died five years ago.” you denied her and your voice starts to break. A little gasp breaks through Wanda’s lips after hearing what you just said but confusion takes over the surprised feelings in her.

The little silence of shocks puzzled you and got you thinking about what she wanted. Your instinct reminds you of your sons right away. “The boys.” You mumble and you quickly run. Unfortunately Wanda’s magic freezes you on the spot and you are floating mid air.

“Let me go! What do you want?!” you confronted her.

‘Tommy and Billy are in their room.” Wanda responds calmly. “What did you do to them?! Please don’t hurt them.” you said while you try to escape yourself from the red magic that limits your movements but it was all in vain.

“They are safe and sound asleep. I’m not a monster. I’m not going to hurt you or them. I will put you down and I just need you to tell me who you are and your life here.” Wanda offers you a one way deal.

Deep down you refuse to agree but it’s for the safety of your sons, you know better not to fight her or anything. You agreed in defeat.

Wanda gently lands you on the floor as she floats smoothly closer to you.

“Now tell me about your life here. No trick and no lies please.” she requested in a very soft voice.

You swallow down your fear hardly before you start telling her your life story. “You look like my wife, Wanda. She’s– she is the most amazing woman I have ever met. I was one of the scientists for S.H.I.E.L.D but then they transferred me to work with Tony and Bruce at the Avengers compound. That was where Wanda and I met.” Your eyes get glossy. Wanda notices your sad expression as she pays attention to everything you say but then you chuckle and smile a little talking more about your beloved deceased wife.

“She was a very shy person but once she got comfortable, she would turn into a very funny, caring and talkative person which made me fall for her. She is a great mother to our boys.” you continue as your hand starts to wipe the tears that slowly overfill your eyes.

“What happened to Vision? Where is he now?” Wanda’s forehead puckered as she asked another question.

You turn your head to her and answer the question with another question. “Who is Vision? I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Vision, he–he was Jarvis and was created during Ultron’s attack on earth 616. Us, Avengers fought him and saved the world back then. Vision became one of us and that’s when Wanda– I–I meant that was when Vision and I got closer but Thanos killed him and uh– we have the boys, Tommy and Billy years after. It’s—It’s—It’s another thing that happened.” Her lips quiver shortly before she exhales a shaky breath while holding her tears back.

What Wanda just said really caught your attention that you shift yourself to face her. “Wait, what? Ultron’s attack? Earth 616? Did you say Jarvis was born? THE Jarvis, as in Tony’s AI? Thanos? Does this mean you are from another universe and the multiverse actually exists?” you start to ramble instant lines of questions.

“Yeah, Ultron. Ultron didn’t invade this universe? What about Thanos? What happened to me–I meant to your wife, Wanda?” Wanda took her turns asking your even more questions.

“Ultron happened here but everything worked out and there was no fight between The Avengers and Ultron in this universe. Jarvis is still Tony’s AI until now.” you explained.

“Tony’s alive? Jarvis still exists here? That’s why I didn’t see Vision here.” Wanda rambles out her thoughts to herself under her breath, connecting the dots.

“No Vision was created and yes, Tony’s still alive. Everybody is still alive, except.. Wanda.” you swallow hard when the memory hits you again, so hard that your heart aches. Sadness shows up in your face again. You feel Wanda’s hand holding you and it’s insanely bizarre that you feel the same comfort that you used to get when your Wanda did it.

“What happened?” Wanda hesitantly asks you with her soft voice.

“Thanos and his army came to attack. The Avengers were at war and fought them. I had a feeling that day, when I saw Wanda fly out of the compound with everybody else that I would never see her again even though she told me that she would come back for me and the boys.” tears start to fill your eyes to the brim slowly.

Wanda doesn’t know what to say when her mind comes up with a conclusion of what happened to your wife but she knows how you feel, she senses a great loss from you. Her heart feels yours aching. Her thumb rubbing the back of your hands and you continue your words.

“I was waiting and waiting and waiting for everybody to come back, for Wanda to come back. The second I saw Natasha and Clint at the door, I knew that—” you pause and swallow the lump in the back of your throat.

“I knew that I had lost her. Natasha told me that Wanda sacrificed herself to defeat Thanos and his army.” with that, you can’t hold your tears back anymore. You break in tears, sobbing your grief out.

Wanda quickly pulls you into her embrace. “Oh, detka. I know how you feel. Grief, loss and death are so hard to accept. Trust me, I know.” you cry even more once you hear Wanda’s voice calling you with the same exact pet names your wife always calls you with.

You asked Wanda more about what happened in her universe and her life. Wanda tells you everything from her childhood, Vision and including what happened at Westview. You both end up talking about everything all night.

Listening to everything that Wanda tells you while seeing her emotions through her eyes touches your heart. Knowing that Wanda lost her parents and twin brother just like your Wanda did brings out all the sympathy you have. It convinces you that this Wanda right in front of you is not a villain. You know your wife would do the same thing that happened in Westview if it happens to her.

“So, you were saying that the Darkhold and Multiverse exist? And you are The Scarlet Witch? There is only one Scarlet Witch in the multiverse and it’s you? This is crazy. I always have a theory that the Multiverse exists. I have been doing research and trying to find it so I can find—”

“Your wife?” Wanda finishes your sentence as if she has the same thoughts as you.

“Yes.” you admit.

“That’s what I was doing. I was so lost and alone. I just want my boys back and live a happy life with them. Then I saw this universe, the boys and you. I–I wanted to see why this universe looked different, no Vision and I didn’t see me either. I meant no harm to you or the boys.” Wanda’s eyes get teary. This time you pull her to a hug to comfort her.

“I understand, Wanda.”

After all the talk at night, the connection between you feels stronger. You agreed to let Wanda come visit to see the boys and you. Wanda humbly accepts even though you requested her not to show up to the boys just yet until you are sure and feel safe around her. All Wanda can do right now is to understand your request and it’s her way to thank you for your thoughtful decision.

Day by day and weeks by weeks, the more you and Wanda spend time together, the stronger the connections between you two. Wanda starts to smile again, so do you.

The hearts know what they want, slowly you and wanda start to fall for each other. You are slowly convinced that it’s time to let Wanda and the boys meet. It melts your heart to see Wanda’s smile when you tell her your decision.

_____

Billy and Tommy sit together waiting for you after you tell them that you need to talk with them. They smile at you right after they see you walk into the living room.

“Mama, we are not in trouble, aren’t we?” Tommy asks anxiously. “No, no you are not, silly. I just have something to tell both of you.” Tommy smiles again in relief after hearing your answer.

“What is it, Ma? Are you okay?” Billy lets out her question with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, sweetheart, yes, I’m okay.” you answered in awe while Wanda watched everything discreetly under the invisible spell. Her heart races with excitement and nervous feelings at the same time.

“Well, Tommy, Billy, do you remember the theory that I always talk with you two about the Multiverse?” This time, it’s your turn pitching a question to them. You clear your throat as if it works to shrug off the nervous feelings you are having right now.

“Yeah, the one that you said you are trying to find?” Billy asks.

“Yes, darling. So, well, guess what? Multiverse exists!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Really?? Wow! That was awesome!” The boys respond with such a thrill. The twins are always interested in what you are working on and sciences. Sometimes you bond with them in the lab and the three of you always have a good time together.

“Wait, so it means there are other variants of me, Tommy and you in the multiverse?” Billy curiously asks you.

You can’t hold back your happy chuckles. “Yes, there are variants of us and also Mommy.”

They both gasp at the same time. “Mommy? Did you see her in the other universe?” Tommy gets closer to you as he asks you.

“Yes, yes I did.” you answered with a smile. Bubbles of joy burst in Wanda’s heart. Warmth spreads in her seeing their positive response.

“Does she look like our mommy, mama? Does–” Billy couldn’t wait her turn to ask you.

“Do you think she knows us, Mama?” Tommy interrupts her twin brother.

“Does she love as much as our Mommy does? Can we see her?” Billy chimed in with more questions. The boys’ voices overlap each other.

“Boys, boys. Okay, okay. Calm down. Wow, you two are very curious, aren’t you?” you giggle. The Maximoff brothers nod their heads rapidly followed by more smiles.

“How about you ask her yourself?” You suggest the idea as you tap their nose gently. Wanda takes it as her cue to show up. Their mouths slightly opened in amazement as soon as they saw Wanda.

“Hello, Billy, Hello Tommy.” Wanda greets them in a shaky voice, as she tries to keep herself together, holding her tears and smiling at the same time. Wanda walks closer to them slowly, trying not to scare them away.

The boys get off the couch and walk quickly to Wanda.

“Whoa, you look like Mommy.” Tommy comments. “I am your mommy, from another universe.” her tears roll down and Wanda quickly wipes it right before she crouches down to their eye level. As hard as you are trying not to cry but this view of Wanda and the boys really gets you. Tears escape the brim of your eyes.

“Can–can we hug you?” Billy shyly asks.

“Of course! Come here.” Wanda cries in happiness and extends her arms welcoming them in her hug. Tommy and Billy hug her hesitant at first but melt into the embrace a few seconds later. Wanda pulled them closer, cherishing every second of it with every piece of her. Tears escaped her eyes as she cried in happiness quietly. She never thought she would ever feel happiness again. Never in her mind since Westfield that she would be able to hug the twins ever again.

Wanda mouthed a thank you to you and seeing how happy, grateful she is, really touches your soul. You could really see the difference compared to how she was the first time you saw her that night. Right now, you could see how she really is, a devoted mom and a gentle loving woman.

The boys pull themselves back a little from the back. “Wow, you look exactly like her.” Billy comments in amazement as his eyes examine Wanda’s resemblance.

“I love both of you as much as your mommy does.” Wanda explains as she wipes her cheeks, a little smile shows up under the wet trails of her tears.

“So, you have your own Tommy and me? Where are they?” Billy asks curiously. You know it’s a hard question for her to answer so you try to stop it by changing the topic. “Billy, Tommy, why don’t you both show mommy–uh I meant uh Wanda the new set of legos you are building. I’m sure she would love to spend time with you two while I’m making dinner for all of us.”

The four of you spend the rest of the evening together. Wanda even helps you to put them to bed. Everything went well. The boys and you bond with her so easily as if there has always been natural connections between all of you, as if she is your wife and the mother of your sons from this universe.

_____

Almost a year after, Wanda still keeps coming back and forth from 616 universe to yours or sometimes she stays some nights there. You and Wanda have been dating for a few months. Everything has been great, the boys and you are getting a lot more comfortable having Wanda around.

Just like Wanda always envisioned before, the three of them often bake together. She gets more involved with the household and all the activities that four of you can do. Showing her around and how everything out there in your universe. There are some adjustments that she has to do but she doesn’t mind it at all.

Sometimes Wanda even goes with you to pick the boys up from school or comes to their theater school play. You and Wanda love each other. It feels like you have known her forever and Wanda finally feels like she’s home, with you and the boys.

Today is your and the boys’ first Christmas morning together with Wanda and it is a big day. You, Billy and Tommy have something planned. A surprise for Wanda.

The four of you are sitting near the fireplace with matching pajamas. You and Wanda smile while watching the boys open their presents. Laughter and joy fill your house.

“Boys, are you ready?” you gave them the cue. They quickly nod and grab a bigger square shape wrapped gift.

“It’s for you, Wanda.” you smile and tell her. Wanda’s cheeks blush and she smiles right away, followed by a little excited chuckles. “Aw, you guys. You don’t have to get me a gift.” she responds.

Wanda opens her gift and smiles. “Aw, did you boys draw this? It’s both of you, mama and…your mommy? Oh all four of you are in front of the fireplace and Christmas tree. This is really cute!” She asks while she looks excited yet confused.

“Yeah, they drew it and I reprint and enlarged it.” you explain while gently rubbing her back. The boys interrupt her thoughts while she is admiring the drawing.

“It’s us with Mama and you.” Tommy and Billy race each other to tell you about the drawing.

Wanda quickly raises her head and looks at the three of you, one by one slowly. “What?” she asks softly, trying to make sure if she heard it right.

“Yeah, it’s four of us just like how we are now.” Tommy added.

“Can we call you Mommy?” Wanda gasps gently as soon as she hears Billy’s question. She is lost at words. Her lips are slightly open, happy tears start to fill up to the brim of her eyes. Before she can even answer, Tommy says another thing.

“Yeah, our Mommy.”

With that the happy tears flow freely. “Yes, I’m always your mommy. You are my boys. Of course you can call me mommy.” Wanda pulls both of them in a tight hug. She closes her eyes, thinking that this is the happiest moment in her life after years of sadness and loneliness.

Little does she know, another surprise is coming. Tommy and Billy slowly get themselves out of Wanda’s warm loving hug and stand up straight, clearing their thoughts as if they are getting ready to do something.

To her surprise, the twins start to sing a song they made specially for her. She is astonished as soon as she hears the words they sing, asking her to move and live with them and with you. The way they call her their mommy in a serenade makes her heart leap. Happiness fills her like sunshine. Wanda can’t stop smiling ear to ear.

As soon as they are done singing, you ask her.

“Wanda, we love you. Will you move here and have a beautiful life with us as one family?” you ask as you look into her eyes and hold both of her hands.

“Yes, mommy! Please! Please! Come live with us and Mama.” Tommy’s and Billy’s thrilled voices overlapped each other as they jumped around in exhilaration.

“That has been my dream since I met all of you here. Yes, of course!” Wanda extends her arms, inviting the three of you into a group hug as a one happy family.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today peeps! I hope you enjoy this piece. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #avengers au #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch fluff #scarlet witch fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #elizabeth olsen characters

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luxurychristmaspudding · 4 months

Text

Weightless | On Call

summary: your curtains are closed, truck silent on the drive. today of all days, you shouldn't be alone.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. loooots of angst. active grieving for a dead parent. a very soft frankie. vibes are better in the next chapter lmao.

wc: 2.1k

an: my grandad was a man who loved flowers. today marks seven years since we lost him. he was gentle and kind and so talented.

have some forget me nots, which are in my garden and now also in your hands. for @morallyinept's flora and fauna challenge. for anyone you may also miss <3

When the time came Just like you are He was weightless In my arms

- weightless, elbow

series masterlist | main masterlist

Your house is quiet.

Quiet like Frankie has never heard.

There’s always some kind of noise. A record turning, the hum of your voice. The TV on, windows open to birdsong. But today, there is nothing.

His legs are heavy. Heart heavy, fingers shaking, wrapped around the bag of groceries he’s brought. He’s taken two steps in through your front door, and now he doesn’t know what to do.

He watches the dust motes swim in the sun of your hallway. Shifts on his feet to look through into the living room. You must be upstairs, but to call your name in the silence of the morning feels like too much. Invasive. Cruel.

Instead, he swallows and takes the remaining strides into your kitchen. Breathes in the fresh smell of your plants, the familiarity of your spice rack in the corner, the spread of miscellaneous stuff that he’s rarely seen tidied away. He gently places the bag of groceries on the counter before opening your cupboards for a vase.

Once he finds one, he fills it with water and trims the stems. Forget-me-nots and white carnations. Something simple. Remembrance and love. Bright and pretty. No lilies. They only remind you of the funeral.

He’s biding his time. Trying to tamp down the nerves swirling in his gut, the somersault of his heart in his chest. He knows from the gaps left in his own life that today will be hard. And he wants to make it easier for you. He just hasn't worked out how.

He knows what works for him. The long hikes, the pull of a bottle. In murkier times, many years ago now, the sharp taste of powdered gums. Knows what works for the boys. The days with drawn curtains, video games played in the gloom. Tequila and memories shared across barbeques. Even his parents - honorary pastel de choclo, flicking through photo albums. But for you, he’s not sure.

Once he’s happy with the way the flowers are arranged, he takes off his shoes. He leaves his cap on the counter, and pads up the stairs.

It’s still quiet. You’re not in the bathroom. No reason for you to be in any other of the rooms. He holds his breath and raises his knuckles against the wood of your bedroom door.

He knocks, softly - once. Waits for an answer that doesn’t come, but pushes it open anyway.

‘Bug?’ He says gently into the morning sunlight.

You’re swaddled in bed, still in your pyjamas, eyes red and swollen. You sit up slightly with a watery smile as he edges in, managing a crackled hey, Fish.

A sharp lump rises in Frankie’s throat. Something about seeing you upset has always hurt; the same kind of ache he gets in his chest when Lucia or his mum cries. His eyes flick from yours to your bedside table, to the picture of your father settled on top of it. Frozen in time, his smile is wide - just like yours. Greying hair, a little more chin fat than he would have had as a younger man. A younger you tucked into his side, his arm slung over your shoulders. Your arms around his middle, squeezing, laughing. Fuck.

Frankie’s heart shoots out the bottom of his legs and skids across the floor. He looks you over, and your chin wobbles. Too much. Too vulnerable. The smile drops, your face cracks. Your mouth clamps shut with a snap of teeth, and a fresh wave of tears begins to pour down your cheeks.

Frankie feels his own expression crumble, and he’s at your side before he can even think for his feet to take him there. Perched on your mattress, arms around your shoulders to pull you close. Shushing like the gentle in and out of waves, lips pressed to your hot forehead.

You’re tense, so tense. Breath coming in choked hiccups, shoulders up to your ears. Hands gripping the sheets. There’s another pull in Frankie’s chest.

‘Stop trying not to cry,’ he murmurs, ‘I can feel it.’

You release a ragged breath, a heartbroken cry as you cling to his sleeves. Like you're being ripped apart. Like you're being drowned.

‘I’m sorry,’ you gasp, ‘I’m sorry.’

Frankie shifts you further across the bed so he can fit next to you, shaking his head.

‘Don’t be sorry. Why should you be sorry?’

‘You don’t have to be here,’ you choke, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to stay.’

Frankie closes his eyes. Leaving you here is the furthest thing from his mind, a notion that wouldn’t even cross it.

‘I want to.’ He says.

You nod, curled tight to him. He can feel dampness seeping through his hoodie, and he sits back against the headboard, cradling you to his chest. His heart is beating so fast. You can hear it, the conch of your ear pressed to the cage of his ribs. You try to focus on it, try to think of nothing else. Try not to think of this day four years ago. The weightless feel of your father in your arms in the last minutes of his life. How you held him when he could hold you no longer.

‘What do you need, baby?’ Frankie asks.

The streams of tears, the bow of your brow, serve to split his heart in two.

‘I don’t know.’ You whisper.

So Frankie holds you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Unwittingly, he’s answered the question for you. For the last four years, you have needed to be held like this. Needed to be held together by someone who is not yourself, someone who can shoulder the weight of the grief you have carried alone for years, just for a moment.

You lose yourself to it. To the warmth, the smell, the comfort. You let the flood come, you let Frankie rock you. You ask him how Luc is, and he understands the need to hear about life outside this room. So he tells you about her arts and crafts, her newfound dislike of mac and cheese, what she wants for her birthday. The daisy chains she's been making, the sweetpeas they're growing in their garden. And it’s wonderful. It reminds you of the good of the world, that it keeps spinning, that there is love out there even when it feels lost to you.

If there is something out there other than life, you hope your dad is in it. On a deck chair with a beer on the beach, a little basket of fries delivered to him every so often. He’s smiling, laughing. You hope he’s still around, because the idea that he’s not is too big, too great to face. It’s too lonely. Too terrifying to be alone in this world, no anchor, no tether, a family with their backs to you after you’d told them who you loved, too far in the distance to turn back to you with outstretched palms. An ex-fiancée who simply didn’t love you enough.

But he’s here, you feel. Here in this moment, watching from somewhere above. Mixed with the fabric of now like clothes in a washing machine. A spiral of colour and feeling. Pink, purple, blue, green. Love, joy, heartbreak, loss.

Orange. Orange and white is what Frankie can see. The warmth of the sunlight, the pale of your sheets. You’re far away but safe in his arms. He wants you there always. Wants to be wherever you need him.

He thinks of this day in his own life, four years ago. The tiny, warm body of his baby in his arms. Weightless as you are now and yet so heavy, the two of them fighting sleep in a nursery elsewhere in Florida. He can still smell her hair, still hear the way she’d babble, the way she still fit tucked into one arm. He swallows, hard. Holds you tighter still, thumbs rubbing your shoulder, your side. There is so much of his daughter’s life to see. He can’t imagine having it cut short. Can’t imagine knowing it would end soon, counting down the days as his body wasted. The milestones he’d miss, the moments and memories. The stories and people she’d introduce him to. It doesn’t bear thinking about, her out in the wide world without him to guide or protect her. And he knows you’d hate it, but he’s sorry. So sorry that that’s the life you have, that you don’t have him to turn to anymore. And he’s sorry for your dad. For him to have missed who you are now, to miss who you will be.

He presses another kiss to your head, hoping to convey this. This nebulous thought, this strange feeling.

‘He wrote letters for me,’ you whisper into his neck. So quietly, voice strained to breaking as you force the words out. ‘For birthdays. For jobs. For my first home. For my wedding. For a first child.’ You try to smile, but it’s flattened with a broken breath. ‘He thought of everything. And I read them again today - the ones I’m up to - but it’s like - it’s like his voice -’ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your hands as you try to calm down. ‘Sometimes it’s like I can’t hear him properly anymore.’

Frankie strokes the back of your hand, and it drops easily. He holds it in clammy palms.

In the cold days after your dad passed, through numb dissonance you had googled everything to do with grief. The stages, the remedies, the processes. What you forget first.

Voice. There would be a day, before anything else, when you wouldn’t be able to remember how your name sounded spoken by his lips. When you couldn’t remember the texture of I love you spoken in his tongue.

Frankie knows this. He googled it after Colombia, when the weight of every body he’d seen or carried seemed to settle on him. It had comforted him. He didn’t want to remember shouts and screams, couldn’t stomach the memory of Tom’s orders rattling through his brain. But he feels so desperate to take this from you, to retract and hide what you know. So useless in the face of so much hurt, so much loss. Even when he knows the best he can do is sit here in it with you.

You press your free fingertips into your eyes.

‘I’m so scared, Frankie,’ you whisper from behind the dark in your head. ‘I’m so scared I might forget him.’

Frankie’s seen the simplicities of grief before. Knows them intimately. Knows the horror of these realisations, understands as he presses his lips to your hairline and you shake in his arms. He loves you too much to lie.

So instead, he tells you a truth.

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

When the light turns from golden to white, the sun a little higher in the sky, you disentangle yourself to blow your nose. You manage a laugh as you do it, muttering a bashful ew as Frankie watches you, still stretched out on your mattress. Any other time, and your heart would be hammering in your chest at the sight. But now, it’s all the comfort you need.

He stands, stiff, stretching his arms to the ceiling before gathering you briefly in his arms again.

‘You okay?’ He asks.

‘Better.’ You say, brushing a curl from his forehead.

His eyes are so warm, so gentle.

‘Breakfast?’

You hum, offer him the best smile you can. A sludge of guilt slops in your stomach, but you try to swallow it.

‘Thank you. I’ll be down in a bit.’

When he’s downstairs, listening to the sound of your shower, he unpacks his grocery bag and begins making a stack of pancakes. Blueberry, banana, strawberry, chocolate chip. Syrup enough for you to taste through the salt at the back of your throat. Methodical, mechanical, more focused on listening for your movements through the floors of your house. The shutting off of the water, the soft thunk of your drawers. Your footsteps heavy on the stairs, down the hall. You appear in the doorway, hair washed, eyes red, cosy in sweats and a t-shirt. He smiles at you, and you smile back. It’s small, but it’s a start.

You move closer, and he takes you under his arm as he turns the stove off. You wrap your arms around his middle.

‘Thank you for the flowers,’ you say, quietly. Frankie follows your eyes to the bouquet arranged in the vase. Forget-me-nots, white carnations. ‘Thank you for not getting lilies.’

He smiles, kisses your forehead. Wonders whether he could leave a mark simply from doing it so often, so you’d always feel safe.

‘No problem.’

He guides you towards the table, pulls out the chair and makes sure you’re settled. Makes sure you have your coffee, your pancakes. The smell of the flowers is sweet, something blooming in your stomach. You trace the outline of them before you, the simplicity, the thought. Frankie asks what you want to do for the rest of the day. You deflect the question back at him, and he smiles.

‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’

You raise an eyebrow at his mhm.

‘That’s dangerous.’ You say with a wry smile.

Something in Frankie’s chest lifts. There she is.

Later, when Luc is tucked into your side and you’re tucked into Frankie’s, you’ll wonder how you can ever repay him. The kindness he shows you, the patience.

You only hope that you will, someday. Promise it, head leant against his shoulder.

Even if it takes the rest of your life.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #jettsflora&faunachallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: on call

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steddielations · 1 year

Text

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

#it’s the full version of the garfield mug fic from forever ago #this has the happiest ending on ao3 i promise #linked at the bottom #steddie #rueswriting #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #steddie fic #temporary grieving #temporary mcd

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fariesoiree · 2 months

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Reader and Sukuna in a fitting room rating the compression shirts he picked out : p

hi anon my love this is long overdue BUT i said i would do it ik i lied once but sukuna is actually difficult for me boooo. i am not lying when i say i struggle with him specifically but characterization is soooo difficult it’s an entire process

anyway past the sob story onto the request! this is done with suburbia sukuna in mind. he has his own fully built universe that i hope to explore more :D feel free to ask about that!! okay request fr below the cut. mdni minors stay away or m calling your parents.

sukuna is supposedly off limits. it’s more of a unspoken rule than anything. if it wasn’t unspoken, you doubt you’d be the only one trying to get unscheduled one on one time with him. even if it was spoken though, there’s a big chance you’d still be seated here now, watching in faux boredom as sukuna pulls yet another shirt off his body.

you’re not supposed to be here. well, you are just not here. you’re supposed to be strolling the shops of the malls, in search of something fitting for nobara’s birthday, something as extravagant as she’d like. it’s just sheer coincidence that you ran into sukuna, at least that’s what you’d tell them.

it doesn’t really matter what megumi or nobara or even yuji thinks. neither of them knows what it feels like to have secret rendezvous with the untouchable. you’ve taken a bite of the forbidden fruit. it would be insane to ask you to put it down, now.

it’s one of your more tame interactions though, so at least you have something to stand on. granted, most of your cognitive function is focused on not gaping like a fish every time his muscles ripple and flex across his form.

“i don’t like that one. it makes you look like a whore.” it’s two short sentences but it’s all you can manage to maintain your little bit of sanity. it’s all the same when sukuna isn’t facing you. he couldn’t possibly read your expression when he’s too busy staring at his own in the mirror.

you can see him though. you can see him and the way his pink lips twitch in a half assed smile. the navy blue compression shirt goes right back in the hanger with the white tag dangling, taunting you of your actual quest. you can see the quirk in his eyebrow before he can utter a word.

“that’s my goal. can’t get more bitches under my belt without a little bait.” all sukuna has to do is cast you one of those over the shoulder glances to turn your insides into mush. he gives off the impression that he knows, with the way his tongue goes to swipe glossed saliva across the soft plains. “don’t it take one to know one?”

by the time your big brown eyes have rolled to the edges of your head and back again, sukuna has already crossed the space between you, tender hand resting on your skin, smoothened with coco butter lotion and vanilla scented body oil. his hand runs up your calf, reaching the edges of your denim skirt. if his all-knowing grin doesn’t tip you off, it would be the tightening of his fingertips around you.

if you were anywhere else, perhaps you would be more enticed to get lost in the inferno his touch leaves your nerves feeling but this is reality, and in reality, he’s snuck you into the dressing room just to show off his physique. it forces you, to instead of being spontaneous and going with the flow, to chide him in a mutter and plant your hands firmly on his chest.

“no. no, ‘kuna this is a bad idea. you don’t need me to tell you that.” your move to turn your cheek towards him does nothing to deter him. your lips weren’t his goal, anyway. rather, sukuna seems perfectly content attaching his lips to your neck to leave behind an array of bruises.

you feel more than you hear it, the rush of air past your ear when he scoffs. sukuna has made himself hovering in the spot between your legs, one knee bent and wedged sandal atop the bench. “oh, it’s a bad idea, is it? don’t want poor yuji findin’ out. what would he think? his good friend, his best friend, chumming it up with me, his dear old brother.” he leans away just enough for a breath of space between you. his pink hair brushes against your forehead as sukuna tilts his head. his eyes shine with mischief but his grip is all the same. “you never complain until it suits you. big fuckin’ baby.”

you’d like to think your efforts work, particularly when sukuna discards you and replaces the object of his attention for yet another shirt on the rack of possibilities. he’s already clicked his tongue and moved on from your conversation while you’re still attempting to defend your honor in a single breath. “just because i have ethics doesn’t make me a baby.” your foot meets the floor in a soft clunk! and you sort out the bunched up material of your skirt.

your words make him laugh, a sound vibrating through his chest and out his body. “ethics, huh? where were you ethics last week? ‘sukuna can you come over? the power went out and i can’t fix it. sukuna i’m so lonely. i’m so bored. i’m so—’ what djd you say? something about your parents not being home. i can’t quite remember.”

“oh my god, shut up.” hearing your own words, although in a much deeper timbre, stirs up an embarrassment so overwhelming, your hands fly to cover your face. “you make it sound like a bad porno.” you’re no stranger to the heat creeping up your neck and spreading that warmth throughout your cheeks.

“should’ve been. i don’t think you could fake that, though. which one do you think will get me the most bitches? blue or black?” sukuna phrases it like it’s some passing thought. it’s a casual conversation to him. your sexual endeavors are normalized and he speaks of it as you don’t have to sneak behind your mutuals.

“black.” the decision falls from your lips before you have time to contemplate it. it’s not an entire lie. it’s just . . . not the best option. he didn’t ask that, though. sukuna asked what would get him the most bitches. he didn’t ask for your exact, and quite personal, opinion. perhaps you were doing him a favor is steering him away from a blue so deep it made his eyes shine. “and hopefully now you’ll get enough attention and leave me alone.”

sukuna scoffs again and shakes his head. pink hair tosses atop his head and he looks back at you again, a familiar smile playing on his lips. “you’re the one that needs to leave me alone.”

#⋆ ·˚ ༘₊· ̗̀ 💌 ••• ⁀➷ 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 . . .#anon !#not edited #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader

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temis-de-leon · 4 months

Text

When Greed is too much

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.

A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end

Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.

He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.

His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.

And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.

Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.

Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.

At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.

It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.

Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.

Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.

After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.

And then they got home.

“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.

“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”

He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.

“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”

“I’ve never put them in danger”

His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.

“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”

“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”

“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”

“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.

“You truly never learn”

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”

“Mammon”

After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.

“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”

“What…?”

“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”

Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.

He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.

Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.

He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.

They were fine.

They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.

Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.

He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.

A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.

His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.

“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”

He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.

“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.

“For what, dummy?”

“I put you in danger”

MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.

“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”

“But they almost attacked us…”

“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”

“No”

The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.

In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.

What did that human movie say?

He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me writing #obey me oneshot #obey me requests #anon request

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