#be me. sick. barely speak. hurts to swallow.

[sturniolohoho-side]

FUCK YOU TOO - Part 10

Intro 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

summary: ness is pregnant. chris is DEVESTATED and everything is a mess

c/w: mentions of pregnancy, angst, crying, fluff

not proofread sorry!

Chris POV

You’re sitting on the couch, your hands trembling slightly in your lap. Y/n’s beside you, her gaze fixed on your face, waiting for you to speak. You’ve been holding this in for a day now, and now that she’s here, you can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

You look down at your hands, trying to steady your breath, but the words won’t come. You know this is going to shatter her, and it eats at you. Finally, you force yourself to speak.

“y/n...” You pause, your throat tight. She’s staring at you, her eyes full of confusion.

“You’re scaring me,” she says softly, her voice a mix of concern and something else— fear.

You swallow hard, guilt weighing heavily on your chest. You can’t back out now. She deserves the truth, even if it’s going to hurt her.

“Ness… she’s pregnant. S-she says it’s mine.”

Her face goes pale, her lips parting as she processes the words, like she's waiting for you to say it’s all some sick joke. But it’s not.

You want to say more, to explain it all, but the words choke in your throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Wait… you’re serious?” Her voice cracks, and it hits you harder than you expected. You nod, unable to say anything else, everything just sinking in.

She stares at you, her hands trembling in her lap. Silence fills the room, and you can almost feel the distance between you grow.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, y/n. I never wanted to hurt you,” you say, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

Her eyes meet yours again, soft but full of pain. “Chris, this... changes everything. You know that, right?”

You nod, your throat tightening. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, but one thing is clear: you don’t want to lose her.

“I’m not going anywhere, y/n,” you say, voice soft but steady. “But I’ve got to figure this out.”

She lets out a slow breath. “I need you, Chris. I don’t know what I’m doing without you.” You extend your arms out and pull her in towards your chest. She buries her face in your hoodie as the two of you tremble in each other's arms. 

You rest your chin on the top of her head, eyes closed. “We’re going to get through this y/n, I promise.”

_________

Y/n POV

You’d never seen him this tired. He didn’t sleep– not really. He got a wink every now and then, but most nights he just lay in bed wearily, looking up at the ceiling. It was the kind of soul-sucking exhaustion that never really dulls.

It was like the two of you plus Ness had been living in some kind of zombie world– nothing felt real. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to become a dad in the future. He did, but certainly not right now, and certainly not in the circumstances it is happening under. With Ness– someone who at this point, just brought chaos into his life.

He told you the other night through bleary eyes and a can of energy drink, “It feels like panic dressed up as responsibility.”

All you could do in those days was hold him close. He was distant most of the time, and he barely laughed with you the same. But when he does hold you tight, and cuddle you to sleep, you can tell he is trying. Trying to stay grounded. Trying not to fall apart.

When Nick and Matt found out, Matt exploded. Pacing, yelling, swearing—he couldn’t believe Chris had let Ness back in, even for a second. It was protective anger, but it hit hard.

You don’t mean to start a fight. You really don’t. But there is only so long you can sit with all this twisting in your chest before it spills out.

“So… you’re just going to take her word for it?” you ask, arms crossed, voice calm.

Chris looks up from the couch, exhausted. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to get the paternity test, Chris,” you say, stepping forward. “You owe yourself that. You owe me that.”

“She said it’s mine,” he mutters. “She swore he didn’t–” He cuts himself off, jaw tensing. “Go all the way.”

You laugh, incredulous. “Seriously? That’s what we’re going with? That’s enough for you?”

“She’s already stressed out, y/n. She’s freaking out and sobbing every day and–”

“Oh, poor her,” you snap. “Meanwhile I’m supposed to sit here and watch you spiral over a maybe-baby with your cheating ex. She drags you through hell and you still choose to protect her.”

“It’s not about protecting her. It’s about—” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You’re making this worse than it already is.”

You stare at him. “So you’re fine just accepting whatever she tells you. Even if it ruins us.”

Chris stands now, voice raised. “This isn’t about you, y/n.”

Your chest tightens. “Oh, right. Because I’m just the girl standing quietly while you pick up Ness’s pieces again.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this,” you shoot back. “You’re not the only one hurting, Chris. I just don’t get the luxury of falling apart because I have to be the ‘reasonable’ one while your ex runs your life.”

Silence. The air between you feels heavy.

“She said it’s mine,” he says again, but this time it sounds less like certainty and more like pleading.

“And what if it’s not?” you whisper. “Then what, Chris?”

He doesn’t answer.

_________

Chris POV

You walk up the stairs wearily, barely able to concentrate. Fuck, it’s been so long since you were able to sleep. Not with everything weighing down on your chest. It had been a couple hours since your argument with y/n, and you felt terrible. You never wanted her to feel less than, or even close to the same level as Ness.

But at the same time, seeing the state Ness was in was heartbreaking. You visited her every day to help her, but pregnancy was taking a toll on her. She was in a constant state of raging emotions, from sadness to anger to just desperation.

The thing was, she wanted you back. So bad. She constantly begged you to take her back.

You always say no.

Every time, without hesitation. But somehow, it never feels easy. Because seeing her like that, so wrecked, so vulnerable, it gets under your skin. Not because you still love her. You don’t. Not even a little.

You approach y/n’s door quietly. It’s half cracked open, and there’s faint light leaking out of the room. You had been sleeping over at her house some days, and she slept over at yours other days.

Knocking on the door softly, you open it slightly to peek inside. 

"Hey," you say, voice wavering.

She doesn’t look up right away. Just keeps her chin on her knees, her arms wrapped tight around herself like she’s holding a bunch of little pieces together.

You stand there for a second, useless, unsure, before finally sitting down at the edge of the bed. 

"I’m sorry," you start, and it comes out rough, dry in your throat. "I should’ve handled everything better. I should’ve heard you out instead of shutting you down like that."

She wipes at her face, but still won’t look at you. You feel a pang in your chest.

"I’m getting the test. After the baby’s born, I promise you that," you say. "But right now… Ness is fucking losing it. And I’m not choosing her over you, I swear to God. I’m just trying to keep her from falling apart. That’s it."

“I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if anything happened…to the baby. I just don’t think I could, and I need to take care of her.”

You finally move closer, slow, like you’re asking for permission without saying it. She doesn't pull away, so you keep going.

"I love you," you say, like it's the only thing you’re sure of. "Not her. Not anymore. I don’t even know who I was when I was with her, but it wasn’t me. This—us—this is the only thing that feels real right now."

Her breath catches a little, just a hiccup of air. I love you. The words echoed in her mind– you’d never said that to her. She looks up with you with teary eyes and wet eyelashes. You reach for her hand, let your fingers brush hers.

"I hate that I made you doubt where you stand. You’ve been here for me through all this shit, and I just... I should’ve made it clearer that I’m here for you, too."

"I’m so sorry," you say again, and you mean every damn syllable.

You get up slightly, lifting her to her legs with you. Slowly, the two of you walk over to her washroom. Past the antique furniture and pretty lamps, the quiet of the night wrapping around you both. There’s a soft click of the bathroom light turning on.

You stand together at the sink, brushing your teeth side by side. A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch her, how she brushes in a way that’s always a little messy, her movements slow and easy like she’s in no rush to get anywhere. You both, eyes heavy with exhaustion, meet in the mirror for a moment.

And you remember that day, when she woke up in your arms, the way you fought over the sink and laughed while you brushed your teeth, and went to the convenience store late at night for snacks you didn’t need but couldn’t resist.

You remember the way she smiled at you like you meant the world to her. And you know now, more than ever, that she does. She means everything to you.

Once you're done, you take her hand and lead her back to her room. The light flickers off with a soft hum, and the coolness of the sheets welcomes you both as you crawl into bed. You pull her close, wrapping your arms around her like you never want to let go, her warmth fitting perfectly against yours.

You spoon her gently, burying your face in her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her head, and for the first time in days, you feel like you're going to have a good night’s sleep.

“Chris?” she whispers into the quiet.

“Yeah?” you mumble, your eyes closing, content.

She’s quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft but sure. "I love you too.”

_________

Y/n POV

You wake more well rested than you have been for months now. Months– Jesus, it’s been months since this all unfolded, but it felt more like years. Everything moves slowly and with sorrow, and you weren’t even getting the worst of it.

With a groan, you roll over to look at Chris– he’s still dozing peacefully. It was so nice to see him like this. His eyebrows were relaxed and his lips slightly parted.

Carefully, you slide out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The floor is cool under your feet as you pad quietly to the kitchen. The sunlight spilling through the windows feels gentler today, like the universe is finally catching its breath too. You boil water for tea, then change your mind and reach for coffee instead. Strong. Sweet. Familiar.

You’re sipping it at the counter when you hear footsteps behind you. Chris appears, shirt ruffled and eyes still sleepy, hair sticking up a little in the back. He looks so soft like this.

"Hey," he says, voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," you echo, offering him the mug. He takes it and presses a kiss to your temple without even thinking. Like it’s a habit. A good one.

Neither of you say anything for a while. You just lean on opposite sides of the counter, watching the steam curl up from the mug.

"I slept like a rock," he finally says, setting the cup down. “First time in forever.”

"You looked peaceful," you tell him, and you mean it. "Like you weren’t carrying the whole world on your shoulders for once."

He smiles faintly, tired but genuine. “That’s ‘cause you’re here.”

It’s quiet again, but not awkward. Just full.

After breakfast, toast and fruit, nothing fancy, you both drift back into your usual rhythm. He helps you clean up, and at some point he finds a pen and starts doodling on a sticky note, completely focused like a child. You watch him from the couch, curled up with your phone but not really looking at anything. Just thinking.

Everything feels... okay. Not perfect. But real. Yours.

It’s midafternoon when his phone rings from where it’s charging by the TV. He doesn’t even look up at first, too absorbed helping you paint your nails.

He reaches over lazily. Then he sees the name.

Ness.

Your stomach tightens, not out of jealousy, but instinct. Something about the timing. Chris sits up straighter.

"Hey," he answers, tone cautious but gentle. “Everything okay?”

There’s a pause. His face shifts—slight tension around the eyes, his free hand going to his hair. He nods slowly at whatever she says, then says quietly, "Okay. Yeah. I’m on my way."

He hangs up and looks at you immediately. There's no guilt in his expression. Just concern. He already knows you’re not going to question him.

"She’s not due for weeks, but... she said something feels wrong."

Your face tenses in concern and worry. Maybe a day ago, you’d be upset, but you understood now. "Go. Of course."

He lingers for half a second longer than you expect, and then crosses the room to kiss you. A real kiss, slow and certain. Like a promise.

“I’ll call you the second I know more,” he says, grabbing his keys.

And with that, the door swings shut behind him.

You stay sitting on the couch, staring after him.

@sturniolosrtewsexy @sturnbrooke @emely9274 @babytomatoes21 @arianna1342 @gemzyy @namelesssav @chestersturn @ellieluvssturniolos @tits4matt @vanteguccir @luke8989 @matt-sturnioloo @glee2skkii @riggysworld @sturnslux3 @cass-sturn @auttysturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @chrismakesmewet @whore4chris

comment to be added to taglist!

ik this is lowkey ass, and ik its going to get no notes but i just needed to get this out </33

[crossingfelix]

Stuck

Trigger warnings: Claustrophobia, panic attacks

Scared one: Chan (I'm sorry that he always has to suffer from my mind's ideas TT)

Comforter: Changbin, Felix

In @eternal-stay 's country is/was a blackout and we just pretend that it was in Seoul. Well and when there is a blackout, elevators get stuck. And who is known for being... no, not stuck in an elevator (that would go to skz' Felix and the Felix who writes this... is that kinda a Felix-thing???), no who is known for being up all night in the studios? Right Chan and sometimes Changbin. Well you can imagine or read the rest.

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"Hyung? It's already 2am, I think we should go home now" Chan looked up from his laptop, in Changbin's direction. The younger boy looked tired indeed and Chan started to feel guilty about letting him stay in the 3RACHA studio for so long. "You can already go Binnie, I'll just make this ready and-" "No, we'll go back together! I don't want you to stay here all night." The Aussie sighed but nodded defided. Changbin, clearly suprised that the leader didn't argue, just took it as a win.

After they saved their work, they went to the elevator together.

Normaly the leader wouldn't go in an elevator and preffered the stairs. Small rooms made him anxious. Like really, really anxious. But he was too tired to fight against Changbin now. What could happen anyway?

They waited until the elevator arived. As soon, as the doors closed, Changbin felt Chan grabbing the right arm of the rapper and hold on it tight. "Sshh hyung, no need to be scared. See we're nearly there" Changbin tried to help the eldest. He got a slow nod back.

Suddenly, the elevator stood still and the light went out. Chan's grip around Changbin's arm tightened and he heard that Chan's breathing got faster. "B-Binnie, what's wrong?" the leader asked with a shaky voice. "I don't know. Maybe a little blacko-" realizing that his words weren't the smartest to calm his friend down, Changbin stopped himself. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned the flashlight on.

The rapper turned his head to Chan, so he could get a better view on the leader. As soon as the light hit the other's face, he turned away, clearly not wanting Changbin to see his face. But Changbin saw it and it broke his heart.

Chan's eyes were opened wide, tears already rolled down his cheeks and his breathing was fast and unsteady. His already pale skin was even paler and his complete body was shaking.

"Hey, Channie, look at me, yeah? Can you do that for me?" Changbin was suprised how soft his voice sounded, but hardly doubt that his friend would listen to him. The more surprised he was, when Chan really turned his face in Changbin's direction again. Before the rapper could say something, the older one started to speak "W-what if we won't c-come out here?" Changbin tried to understand what his leader said. As always when Chan was scared, hurt or sick, he started to speak a mix out of Korean and English and his voice cracked at some point. He was swallowing down a sob, Changbin was sure about it.

"No, that won't happen, I promise." "B-but how do you... do you know?" "I'm very sure about it" Changbin went over to his scared friend and pulled him in a tight hug. That was enough for Chan to break down.

He started to sob in Changbin's neck, holding the younger member so tight as if he feared he could fade away.

If Changbin's heart didn't already break, it broke now. He had never seen Chan in such a panic, never heard him sobbing like that. He slowly started to rub circles over the other's back and tried to comfort him. "Sshh Channie, it's okay, we'll be fine, we'll be fine. We are safe, nothing will happen to us. They will find us, don't worry. Should I call Felix, so they know where we are? Or Minho?" "...Lix"

Changbin barely heard him through the sobs, but managed to understand. "Okay, Felix it is then. Can I just call him and I hug you after it again?" he felt how Chan shook his head and started to sob harder again. "Hey, it's fine, it's completely fine. But can we sit down, maybe? It will be more comfortabe" this time Chan nodded and they sat down.

The rapper pullled his hyung closer to him and hugged him from the side, while he started to call Felix. He saw, that the other members already tried to call him. Hastily he tipped in Felix' name. "Please, please, please pick up Yongbok!" he muttered under his breath. After two ringing noises, a cracking sound could be heard and right after it Felix deep and with worry filled voice.

Felix: Changbin?? Where are you and Chan?

Changbin: In JYPE.

F: Are you both safe? The complete city is shut down, thanks to a blackout.

CB: We're aware of it. Chan-hyung is with me. *Whispering* but I can't tell you how safe we are.

F: What?! Where are you in JYPE?

CB: We got stuck in an elevator. Channie-hyung is freaking out completely.

F: I'll call someone to help you!

CB: Yeah, I guess that would be good...

F: I'll call you again as soon as possible. Say Channie-hyung that he doesn't need to be scared.

CB: Thank you, I'll tell him.

With that, Felix hung up.

Changbin looked back at the Aussie, who hid his head in the rapper's neck. "Channie?" he knew that Chan preffered that nickname when he was scared, so he tried to use it as often as possible in this situation. "Mhm?" Chan looked up to the rapper. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and tears still fall down his cheeks. "Felix calls someone to help us now. And then he will call again."

While talking Changbin gently pushed his hyungs head back on his shoulder and started to play with his hair. Chan didn't protest and just cuddled closer on his dongsaeng. "Are you still scared that something will happen to us?" Changbin asked softly and looked down at Chan, who nodded. "Y-you know I hate small rooms like this..." "Yeah, I know. Sorry for bringing you in here" "It's not your fault. I could've walked down" he still mixed the two languages up but at least he had stopped to talk so fast.

They sat there in silent for a little time, the only thing that was audible sometimes, were Chan's choked sobs and a slight pitch in his breathing. A look on the phone told Changbin 2:30am. He sighed and just wanted to put the phone away again, when a call from Felix showed up at the display.

F: Help will come as... as soon as possible.

CB: Oh thank god! Wait, why are you panting?

F: I-I'm on my way to JYPE

CB: What?! Why??

F: So I'm there as soon as you are out of that damn, fucking-

CB: Okay, I got it you can stop swearing on this elevator.

Felix stopped running for a moment to catch his breath again. When he stopped, he noticed a weird backround noise out of the phone.

F: Is Chan still crying?

CB: Yeah and he talks to me *whispering* I guess.

F: Do you even understand something out of this language-mess or does it only sound messy through the phone?

CB: No, it does sound messy and no, I can't understand that pretty good, but until now, I managed.

F: Can you put me on speaker? Maybe I can understand him when he wants to say something.

CB: Sure

*Puts phone on speaker*

F: Hello? Channie-hyung, Changbin? You both hear me?

BC, CB: Yes

F: Okay that's good. Is help already there?

CB: It wasn't there a second ago and I would've told you...

F: Sorry my bad. Channie-hyung?

BC: Y-yeah, I'm here don't worry.

Changbin and Felix heard how shaky Chan's voice was, but both decided to not say anything to that fact. Both knew that Chan hated to be 'weak' in front of his dongsaengs.

F: Okay, good. You fine, mate?

BC: Yes, I-I'm fine.

F: Okay I'm nearly...th...damn...f-

There was a cracking noise again, then silence. "Damn the signal broke!" Changbin muttered. Chan stayed silent and stared at the wall.

"Hey, you really okay?" Changbin looked at his friend with worry in his eyes. "Y-yeah, just feel a little sick" "Do you need to throw up?" the Aussie shook his head. "Okay, just say if it gets worse".

They sat there a couple of minutes, until Chan started to shiver again. "Do you feel worse?" the rapper asked a bit anxious, before he realized, that the leader had started to cry again. "I-I just want to get out of h-here" "I know Channie I know" Changbin pulled the older one in a hug again. "This is so dumb! I shouldn't cry like this. It's pathetic. I should be stronger than this. I'm such a bad hyung" "Hush now Chan! First of all, this is not dumb. You are scared and that is okay and not pathetic, no matter in which position or situation you are and especially that you cry is so, so strong. And second, you are the best hyung we could ever have! You are the best leader in the universe, got it?" Chan nodded against Changbin's shoulder and let out a shaky breath.

Just when Chan had calmed down, the elevator suddenly started to move down again and the light went back on. Completely surprised Chan and Changbin stood up. The Aussie clutched the rapper's arm again, fear in his eyes. "Hey Chan, no worries, the blackout is over, that's why it moves again" the other didn't look totally convinced but stopped to grip Changbin's arm like his life depended on it.

The elevator stopped again. A moment nothing happened and Changbin was afraid that Chan would start to panic again. But then finally the doors opened to the sides and Felix stood in front of them.

"Oh my- thank god!" he shouted and opened his arms for Chan, who ran straight to Felix and out of "the thing right out of hell" how he would call the elevator later. Felix hugged his hyung tightly and Chan started to sob again, but this time in Felix' shoulder. "Sshh Channie, it's okay, I've got you, nothing can happen to you now" the younger Aussie whispered, while he smiled at Changbin who came out a bit slower (what wasn't hard with the speed his hyung had had).

"I'm so glad you both are okay!" Felix muttered to Changbin, when he joined the hug. "Me too. Me too, believe me" he got as an answer.

END

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Aahhhh, I loved writing this. Now I don't have ideas anymore and a long weekend so please, please, pleaseeee write ideas XDD

PS.: they arived at the dorm around 4am thanks to a traffic jam that had built up, which even blocked the way! No need to say that Chan never went into an elevator again and even Changbin tried to avoid it XD

[luveline]

omg post prison Spencer and concussed!shy girl….I would go feral I fear

“I’m gonna be sick again,” you whine, covering your eyes with both of your hands. The nausea roils and the pain in your head reaches a new crescendo. You moan without thinking about it, worse when someone grabs a hold of you from behind. 

“Don’t bend!” he says, not shouting but not happy with you either. “You aren’t going to be sick again if you stay sat up. I know it hurts, but you’re making it worse.” 

Spencer’s strict voice isn’t one you’re used to. An embarrassed flush rushes over you, quick to cry ‘cos you’ve wanted to for hours. 

“Sorry,” you mumble tearily, slouching back into your seat with a wince. 

“Oh, angel, please don’t cry again.” 

“I’m not.”

“I’m not angry with you, I just need you to listen, because being sick like this isn’t good for you, and you’re gonna feel sick again if you bend over. It’s your head, angel. It’s the inertia.” 

You shuffle across the couch to flop against his chest. It’s a desperate move; if he doesn’t hug you, you’re going to start crying for sure, so you’re begging him to hold you without having the courage to say it out loud. “Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” Hands wrap around you immediately. “Don’t be sorry. Just stay like this for a bit, until the nausea stops. Please.” 

You’d love to stay there. You can smell the black coconut soap he uses on his skin, rubbing your nose into his neck and taking obvious breaths. 

Spencer pats your back, saying, “Good, take a breather.” He sounds surprised, but when you glance up at him he isn’t panicking or moving. He’s closed his eyes. His hand is on the small of your back.  

You hit your head so hard the very first thing that happened was the wave of vomiting. It just… didn’t end. And for a while all you could think about was nothing, just being sick and crying and a hand on your back, eventually traded for colder ones, bright white lights and strangers asking how you were feeling. You couldn’t not defer to Spencer, not really sure if he was Spencer in a permanent sense but aware intrinsically that he was to be trusted to answer for you. 

Your brain is shaken, then stirred. 

“If I give you a pill, do you think you can keep it down? It’s okay if you can’t. Honest answer,” Spencer murmurs. 

“I don’t know.” 

“An anti nausea pill you need to swallow isn’t exactly mankind’s best invention.” He cradles the nape of your neck, then, sounding more on your side than anyone ever has. “I wish I could fix it.” 

“You should’ve put your brain to work for science,” you say agreeably, “you can fix anything. Big pharma are lucky you chose to catch the bad guys instead.” 

“I meant your concussion.” You can barely hear him, and at the same time, it’s like he’s speaking into your marrow. 

“You did fix that,” you say, tipping your head back to see him. “You took me to the doctor.” 

He smiles. “Yeah, I did, but you’re still sick and hurting.” 

It’s not that bad in Spencer’s arms. You had dreams like this, daydreams and sleeping, where he’d wrap you up and comfort you after some hurt, but you’re struggling to remember what made it feel as painful as it did at the time. Spencer felt far away. Now he’s right here. You curl your arm behind his neck to be squished together, tight tight tight. Spencer actually groans. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No, m’not in pain. I can’t remember the last time I got to hold you like this for so long.” 

“I don’t know why.” 

“I do, and it’s okay. I know why you get freaked out. I’ll never rush you. I don’t mind. But I feel guilty ‘cos I’m enjoying this and you’re in pain.”

It’s a dull throb in the skull. You can barely feel it. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“I’m confused.” 

“That’s a common theme tonight.” 

“You feel guilty ‘cos I’m hugging you?” 

He covers your eyes with his hand. You laugh at first, but it’s oddly nice. Warm, dark. The throbbing pain ebbs a bit. 

Spencer can feel you relaxing against him. He’s all warmth and smell and sound under your ear. Exhaling, humming, the sound imbued with a fondness you don’t understand. His chest is solid under you, his hair begging to be touched where it flirts with his shoulders, the slopes and lines of him a tactile wonderland for your greedy hands: you want to feel everything. You haven’t the faintest clue as to why you weren’t allowing yourself the privilege before. 

“I just need you to get better fast,” he says, breathless. “That’s all.” 

“I am trying my best.” 

Spencer rubs a thumb over one of your eyebrows, start to end. “And you’re so, so good at it,” he says. 

You aren’t concussed enough to miss the lightly mocking coo of it. But you don’t care. Your nose drags up the line of his neck clumsily, in what you hope says tease me more, but more likely says concussive brain injury, second degree. 

[pacofprunes]

KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE PRIZE

DARK CONTENT inho x reader

warnings — noncon, cockwarming, guns, squid game stuff

i’m begging you. if you don’t fuck with noncon and you hate it so much, then don’t fucking read this. 18+

a whole waterfall coming down your face, lip quivering, biting back your sobs. he said he’d make it even worse if you made a sound. so you decide to replace the sobs that you couldn’t let out with heavy breaths. you were about to start hyperventilating. legs tied to his, he was balls deep in you, forcing you to cockwarm him with your arms tied behind your back. god, you felt like you were gonna puke. you feel his cold gloves slide under your tracksuit jacket and onto your bare stomach, making you shiver.

“what’s got you so tense? are the games getting boring?”

you shake your head no, and he shifts under you. you know he did it on purpose, it wasn’t done to get comfortable, it was done to fuck with you. feeling his dick move in you and feeling yourself clench around him. you hated it. he laughs lightly before moving his head into your shoulder to get a better view of the games. he squeezed your arm with one of his hands, the other still wrapped around your stomach. you had to watch all these people die, you put your head down. this was sick. he was sick. he lets go of your arm and grabs your chin, lifting it to make you keep watching.

“keep your eyes up. this is nice of me, no? i could pick up this gun right now and shoot you just like them. it won’t hurt me. i still got what i want.”

he moves his hand from your chin and taps the gun on his table. you hadn’t even noticed it until he said something. he picks it up for a second, wiggling it at you tauntingly before putting it back down. he runs his hands through your hair and wraps his arms all around you, pulling your back right into his chest. you don’t know how, but somehow that made his dick go even deeper, and you quickly try to lift yourself up off of him, despite your legs being tied down to his own. he quickly grips your hips and pulls you back down before slapping you on the inside of your thigh, hard, causing you to flinch up and bounce on his dick, immediately you pause and suck the air through your teeth, more tears dribbling down, all while hearing a low dark laugh from behind you. an evil man you thought was your friend. a man you thought you could trust.

“yknow,”

he grabs a glass of whine from his table and presses it to his lips.

“you’d think you’d be happy.”

he moves the glass to sit on your thigh, a quiet way of telling you to stay still. wouldn’t wanna spill it on his nice suit after all.

“i mean, instead of running the risk of getting shot, now you just have to stay here and run the risk of not pleasing me.”

you swallow hard, your chest rising up and down quickly still as you try to keep your head up to watch these sick games, the whole time you’re looking for gihun and your group, hoping they’re okay. he moves the glass off your thigh and blindly presses the glass to your lips. you move your head away and the wine spills on you, painting the once green jacket completely red. it was the only safety net that you had that he allowed you to keep. that stupid jacket covered in blood and now wine. it was gross, but at least you weren’t completely bare. it didn’t stop him from touching you though, clearly, but it gave you some sort of comfort. he sighs before putting the glass back on the table and you tense more as he rubs his hands up your arms, scared of what was to come next.

“so? what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you take a deep breath before finally speaking to him.

“you’re a liar.”

he simply laughs and he moves once again, making you squeeze your eyes shut and you bite your lip.

“i want to go.”

“you’d rather play the games?”

you slowly nod your head and he hums before you hear something on his table move and something pressed against your back. you try to twist yourself to look behind at him, but he simply grips your arm, sending a threat your way to turn back around towards the tv and you obey.

“let’s play a game then.”

you hear the sound of a gun cocking and he presses it back to you and that’s when you knew what was pressing against your back, causing you to whimper.

“what? i thought you wanted to play.”

“i—”

he moves the gun away from your back and up to your neck and you choke on your words. you feel his hand shift before you hear the loud bang of the gun, causing you to scream, thinking that the bullet went through your head as you sob out, choking on your own tears. coughing everywhere and your chest heaving. he wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you into his back again cutting off some of your air flow and rests his other arm with the gun onto your exposed lap. you felt his cock twitch in you, but any other sensations were dulled out from the fear you were in. it had all felt almost numb.

“you still wanna play the games?”

he positioned the gun under your chin, lifting it up and you let out a choked up ‘no’. he decides to remove it and you finally stop holding your breath. he moves it in front of your face and waves it slightly before placing it back on the table beside him, but it didn’t comfort you in the slightest. your chest was stil heaving and the beads of sweat dripping down your forehead didn’t slow down in the slightest. you hear him sigh behind you before sitting up straighter and doing the slightest movements and the slowest thrusts in you. you immediately start moving your wrists in the restraints, straining to free them, throwing your head down and trying to squirm away and free your legs from his. he just holds the sides of your arms tightly, definitely bruising them under his gloved hands and he continues to grind under you, a small laugh coming from him as he feels you clench around him and he moves his gloved hand from your arm to the inside of your thigh, squeezing it before he sticks a gloved finger in you, lying right next to his dick, stretching you even more and finally a loud sob finds its way out of your throat and escapes your lips. he removes his finger and rubs a few circles on your clit, living for the feeling of you clenching around him before he moves his finger up the inside of your thigh, covering it in your slick. he wraps his arms around you again, pressing you against his chest as you continue to sniffle and let out small cries. he simply runs his hand through your hair and moves a hand to grope your boobs under your tracksuit. feeling that you’re so tense, he runs his hands up your sides and your waist, as if that was going to make you relax at all.

“i told you earlier that being here was better because all you had to do was run the risk of not pleasing me.”

he suddenly grips his fingers as tight as possible into your hips.

“so i’d suggest you start moving instead of trying to be so still unless you want me to pull the trigger next time i pick the gun back up.”

[dandelionwishh]

In Sickness and In Seduction

Pairing: Modern AU Sukuna x Wife!Reader

Summary: Sukuna comes home from the hospital with a broken leg and absolutely hates that he has to rely on you now.

Note: This was inspired by @yenayaps motorcycle accident one-shot. Thank you!

Warnings: Sukuna being Sukuna, mild degradation, suggestive content, established relationship, Sukuna being a menace, cursing, dominance, NSFW.

Pt2. Here.

Enjoy!

Sukuna was pissed.

Not at his broken leg—though, yeah, that was pretty damn annoying—but at the fact that he had to rely on you to do everything for him now. He hated it. Hated being helpless. Hated that you had to pick up the slack when he was usually the one running things.

So, of course, he reacted the only way he knew how—by being a total dick.

From the second you brought him home from the hospital, it was nothing but scowling and snapping at every little thing you did.

"Need help getting up the stairs?"

"No."

"You should probably elevate your leg."

"Did I ask?"

"Do you want me to—"

"Just leave it."

You took it for a while, understanding that this was just how Sukuna dealt with frustration. But after three days of his growling, grumbling, and outright refusing your help, you’d had enough.

When he once again barked at you to stop hovering, you crossed your arms and glared down at him. "Fine. Suffer then."

And you meant it. You let him struggle. Let him realize how fucking hard it was to do things on his own with one good leg. You watched him fumble with simple tasks—reaching for things, getting up from the couch, maneuvering with his crutches like a stubborn idiot—and you said nothing.

Until, finally, one night, he let out a long, aggravated sigh. "Alright, alright. I get it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"

His jaw tensed. It physically pained him to say it, but he finally grumbled, "I’ve been an asshole."

You smirked. "Yes, you have."

"Don’t push it," he muttered.

Despite his awful attitude, you couldn’t help the way your heart softened. You sat beside him, nudging his arm. "You know, I really don’t mind taking care of you, Sukuna."

He scoffed. "I mind."

"I know," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "But it’s just temporary. You’ll be back to running things soon enough."

His crimson eyes flickered to you, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, without warning, his large hand slid onto your thigh.

"Speaking of running things…"

You frowned. "Sukuna."

His lips curled. "What?"

"You just got home from the hospital."

"And?"

"And you have a broken leg."

"Yeah? That’s not stopping me from fucking you."

You shot him a deadpan look. "You should be resting."

"I will. After I get what I want."

You snorted, about to push his hand away when he suddenly grabbed your thigh and dragged you onto his lap. A gasp left your lips as you steadied yourself, suddenly way too aware of how warm and solid he felt beneath you.

"Sukuna—"

"Shh," he hushed, eyes darkening as his fingers dug into your hips. "I don’t need my damn legs to fuck you properly."

Your entire body flushed at the raw confidence in his voice. You knew he meant it, too. Sukuna never said anything he couldn’t back up.

Still, you made a weak attempt at resistance. "I just don’t want you to hurt yourself—"

His lips crushed against yours, swallowing the rest of your protest. The moment his tongue slid against yours, all logic flew out the window. His kiss was deep, possessive, as if he were starving for you. When he pulled back, his lips were barely an inch from yours, his breath heavy.

"You think I’m fragile?" he rasped.

You shivered. "No."

"Good," he smirked. "Then be a good girl and take care of me properly."

His grip on your waist tightened as he shifted beneath you, pressing you against something unmistakably hard. Your breath hitched.

"You’re ridiculous," you muttered.

"And yet, you’re still sitting here." His hands started roaming lower, slipping beneath your shirt, his voice dropping to something rough and commanding. "C’mon, wife. If I can’t handle everything myself right now, then you better do it for me."

And that was all the warning you got before he took control of the situation—even with his broken leg.

[agreeewrites]

Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most | S.B.

feat. Sirius Black x Rowle!reader

SUMMARY: You and Sirius have known each other since childhood due to your families running in the same circles. But after a lifelong loathing of one another, the scale tips another way during the New Years Eve feast after-party.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, hate fucking, enemies to enemies that kiss, abusive siblings, toxic friends, reader is Thorfinn Rowle’s twin sister, side Rabastan Lestrange x reader (it's complicated)

series navigation | part two | part three | part four | masterlist

divider by @sxmmerberries

“Well, don’t you look supremely vicious this evening,” a low voice hummed in your ear, one you would recognize anywhere.

“Would you like a taste, Black?” You replied, turning your head just slightly so you could see him in your periphery. He looked exceptionally handsome, as he always did, with his regal bone structure and sage eyes, his hair glossy as raven’s feathers.

It made you sick.

“I’d rather chew nightshade. Far less dangerous.” Sirius stepped around to your front, openly surveying the outfit you’d selected for the evening: a black mini dress with long bell sleeves, a silver chain around your waist, and a platform pair of gogo boots that barely brought you up to his chin. “You’re lethal, darling.”

You and Sirius had known each other for years, having been in attendance for countless parties thrown by your families, and you always seemed to end up here, flirting like you were wielding knives instead of compliments. A competition to see who could deal them most flattering, and most lethal blow. And when he’d left his family for the Potter’s, that rivalry only deepened.

It was much easier to hate one another, to twist the most alluring parts of each other into flaws rather than admit the truth of what they were, or how they made you feel.

You were both at the New Years Eve feast afterparty in the Astronomy Tower, a rare multi-house event. Magic kept the blustering cold at bay, and the party safely enclosed in a bubble of warmth. Students from every house mingled, sipping straight from bottles of giggle water and dancing amid a haze of glittering confetti. The music thrummed through you, aiding the alcohol in loosening your tense muscles.

You loathed parties, but your brother, Thorfinn, had insisted. And what the oaf wanted, the oaf got.

Speak of the devil, you caught Thor’s eyes across the party, where he stood with Sirius’ cousin, Rabastan Lestrange, and the Carrow’s, scanning the crowd for their first unwitting plaything of the year. Thor’s gaze flicked to Sirius, and his expression darkened.

You turned your attention back to Sirius, rolling your eyes at him. “Better hurry back to Potter, baby. His hand must be getting cold outside of your ass.”

Your jab didn’t phase him, and he flashed you that dauntless grin. “What? Big brother says you’re not allowed to talk to me?”

Thor started to move through the crowd towards you, a battering ram through water, and panic curled behind your ribs. “I have no interest in speaking with you, reject. Leave me,” you hissed, as vicious as he accused you of being.

His smile tightened, your cruel words finally chinking his armor. Then, the bastard caught your eye flitting past his shoulder and turned, spotting Thor as he prowled ever closer. “Oh, he looks thrilled,” Sirius said, turning back to you. “Better turn that little brain off and play dumb like you’re so good at.”

Anger simmered under your skin, twining with the panic to make you feel a frantic, fevered.

With a huff, you stepped around Sirius and met Thor halfway, allowing him to take your elbow and steer you back across the party, his grip bruising.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, talking to that rat?” Thor seethed, his alcohol-singed breath wafting over your face.

“He came up to me,” you bit back, swallowing the urge to pull away despite the pain.

“So you walk away. Not play your stupid little word games.”

“I know, Thor. I’m sorry,” you said, feigning remorse, but tonight, he wouldn’t be so easily disarmed.

“Your lack of control is a disgrace,” he snarled, before shoving you away and almost directly into Rabastan, who caught you with a steadying hand before quickly releasing you.

“Just stay here,” Rab whispered in your ear, his heat at your back. “Pecking at my cousin isn’t worth the consequences.”

Rabastan Lestrange was far from a good man, but he wasn’t an unfeeling ogre like your brother, so you often took shelter in his calm demeanor and powerful name. If he wanted Thor shipped off to Azkaban, all he had to do was say the word.

Your parents hoped you would snag an engagement proposal from him by graduation, but the months were rapidly winding down. And you couldn't bring yourself to try all that hard, despite finding Rab both intriguing and exceedingly handsome. He was a Lestrange, after all, with angular features and the eyes of hunter, the kind of magnetic allure that only good genetics could buy.

You didn’t respond, snagging another flute of giggle water as it passed by and taking a delicate sip, Thor’s glare still trained on you. As your family demanded, you were to remain the picture of elegance, of restraint.

Appeased, Thor finally turned back to his hunt, and you exhaled.

You watched as students danced and flirted on the dance floor, gyrating and spinning with abandon. How badly you wished you could join them, could let loose for just a moment. And your opportunity arrived when the band started a slow waltz, and Rab’s hand caressed your lower back.

“Dance with me,” he said, not a request, but you didn’t mind.

He led you out onto the floor and you slid one hand up his broad chest, the other placed in his palm. He pulled you closer, his touch light and careful along your back as he started to lead you.

Dancing with Rab was effortless, fluid as water due to his extensive etiquette training, and you quickly got lost in the buoyant feeling of it.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, and you looked up at him, finding his brown eyes trained on your face, thick lashes heavy, a new intensity blooming.

“Thank you.” You rested your cheek on his muscular chest, overwhelmed by that look in his eye. Your parents would be thrilled. So thrilled, they may not even care that you broke form by resting your head on him.

Rab certainly didn't seem to mind, his hand growing heavier against the curve of your spine and pressing you closer together.

From this new angle, you scanned the crowd, watching countless other couples get lost in their own love story. There was Pandora and Xeno, and Evan and Barty. Not far from them was Marlene and Dorcas, and James Potter and Lily. And to the right of James—your heart stalled, acrid, green poison spilling through your blood.

Sirius was dancing with a girl you didn't recognize, her hair tangled in his long fingers while she kissed up his neck, their bodies flush and swaying.

But his eyes—his eyes were trained on you.

You shifted closer to Rab, an unconscious movement, and he purred in pleasure, his fingers trailing up your spine and making you shiver against him. He smelled expensive, amber and peppercorn, Burberry wool. Warmth began to spread through your lower belly, cloying and dark.

You lifted your head, glancing around to check Thor's location. He was tucked into an alcove with Lucinda, and paying you no mind. With Rab, you were safe from Thor's constant shadow, the burden of the Rowle name. With Rab, you were shielded by his even loftier name, a Lestrange by association. A large enough legacy to disappear into.

It could have been Sirius, your mind whispered, unprompted, and you flinched in Rab’s arms. Where had that come from?

“Alright, darling?” Rab asked, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “Did something frighten you?”

You shook your head, fingers curling into his chest. “Just a little overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping it comes off as coquettish and sweet instead of pathetic, like you feel.

You saw his gaze flit towards Thor, then back down to you. “Would you like me to throw him off the tower?”

You nearly choked on your surprise, then are stunned further to see a soft smile crinkling his eyes. A nervous flutter tickles your lungs, and you giggle. “No, no. That would be too obvious.”

Rab chuckled, his smile widening. “Fair enough, I suppose. Just say the word, love, and you will be free of him.” He pressed your head gently back onto his chest and you obliged, feeling his steady heart drum under your ear.

But, you couldn't seem to stop yourself from finding Sirius in the crowd once more.

He was dancing with Lily now, laughing and spinning her in wide circles, and that poison spread further, rooting into your bones.

It could have been you.

You flinched again, this time away from Rab. “I'm sorry, I—uh. I need some air.”

Rab looked around, you were literally outside, but nodded sympathetically. “Go on, little doe. I'll handle Thorfinn,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles before turning you loose.

You pushed your way through the crowd and down the stairs, bursting into the empty corridor below, the cold seeping in through the stone.

You leaned against the wall, drawing deep breaths, running your fingers through your hair. It was all too much, you were feeling too much, and you couldn't make sense of any of it.

Rabastan was finally flirting with you, and you ran away from him. From safety, from security, from your inevitable future. And for what? To avoid—

“Good ‘ole Rab scare you off?” Sirius drawled, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. “That was a very swift exit.”

You rolled your eyes, straightening. “Can't allow me a moment of peace, can you?”

He sidled up closer, looking sinful in his all black outfit, his shirt half unbuttoned, neck heavy with silver chains. “Not in my nature.” He smirked.

“No, you're nature is far too effusive. Permeates the fucking room.”

“Wow, I've really got you wound up tonight, doll. Profanities on that pretty, posh tongue? Be still, my heart.”

“Not everything is about you, imbecile.”

He prowled closer, his hand resting on the stone beside your head. “So who is it about? I highly doubt that Rabastan Lestrange has you so hot and bothered.”

“And if he does?” You challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. Your bodies were so close, the heat of him pushing back the winter chill, and that bitter poison in your blood sweetened to something honeyed, sticky and slick and burning.

Sirius huffed a laugh, the warmth of his breath caressing your lips. “Then he’s an idiot for letting you out of his sight.”

“And why's that?” You prodded, bumping the tip of your nose against his, wanting to rip that smug smile off his face with your teeth.

“Because.” Sirius pressed his body to yours, solid and lean, so warm, too warm—”Someone else might burn in the fire he started.”

“You think we care if you burn?” You hiss, hating him so much you could scream, but wanting him so desperately you might cry.

“We?” He sneered, all mirth vanishing from his voice. “If there’s ‘we’, then why am I the one you're arching into? Why am I the one making your reptilian heart flutter?”

“Because you're insufferable and I hate you.” The last word skims the surface of his lips, the faintest brush of contact, a match striking the tinderbox.

“And you're a liar,” he growled, slamming his mouth onto yours in a vicious, wrathful kiss, the electricity between you combusting with a boom that rocked you to your core.

You gasped against his mouth, his tongue driving between your teeth to taste you, claim you. You bit down on his tongue, just hard enough to make him grunt in agitation, and his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your air and forcing your to release your hold.

His rings were icy against your fevered skin, his lips against your ear. “Oh, darling. How long have you waited to be bad?”

Unable to move, you flicked your tongue out, dragging it along the hard angle of his jaw, and he shuddered, loosing a wrecked groan.

He crashed your lips together again, open-mouthed and sloppy. He kissed you like every second was stolen, every lick was a victory, and it made your head spin. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen.

He released your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath of cold air, making your lungs burn. His lips moved down to your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as his hands bunched up your dress, fingertips grazing the bare flesh of your thighs.

“Sirius, not here,” you gasped, moaning as he sucked a mark just under your ear, where it could be easily hidden by your hair.

You felt him smirk, and you realized that you'd verbally accepted what was happening, the charade of fighting having fallen without you realizing.

“Why? Afraid you'll get caught with the reject?” He threw your words back at you, and you cringed internally. But there was no malice in his voice, just that infuriating humor.

You grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into a nearby classroom, locking the door behind you. He promptly tossed you up onto a desk, resuming his colonization of your neck, his narrow hips nestled between your thighs.

His hungry exploration of your skin had your blood boiling, your cunt slick and thrumming with need. It was so bizarrely discordant with the loathing in your mind, but it only made your desire burn that much brighter. It didn't help that he was so unbelievably sexy like this, his hair messy, lips rosy and bitten, his shirt wrinkled from your hands.

The image of that leech attached to his neck flitted through your mind, your anger flaming anew. You tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. You laved your tongue up his esophagus and his hips bucked against you, the hardness of his cock tangible against your thigh.

You covered his throat in wet kisses and licks, marking every spare inch as yours.

“Fuck, doll. You're a feral little thing aren't you?” He rasped, his hand sliding around your thigh to stroke the outside of your panties. “And fucking soaked for me.”

You bit down on his neck, earning a hiss of pain and another stutter of his hips.

He pressed his fingers harder against your cunt, making big, messy circles over your slit and you cried out, the pleasure far more intense that you anticipated.

“Sensitive, baby? So warm and wet—you've ruined these expensive panties, y’know? Such a shame, I bet they look so fucking pretty—”

“Shut up, Sirius,” you hissed, throwing your head back as his middle finger massaged your clit, stars dancing behind your eyes.

“I don't think I will. I think you like hearing me whisper filthy things in your ear. Don't you, my naughty girl? Ah—shit, yes—feel that? Your cunt is practically purring in my hand, drooling all over my fingers—”

“Sirius,” you whined, the attitude draining from your voice as your orgasm prowled near, your entire body humming with desperation, with need.

“Poor thing, getting close, hm?” He pulled the gusset of your panties aside, the pads of his fingers making direct contact with your puffy clit. With his other hand he undid his trousers and you reached for him, pulling his cock out.

Fuck, it was pretty. Of course it was, it belonged to Sirius Black. Long and veiny, flushed and shining with slick. You licked your lips, longing for a taste, but you needed to come more.

“Merlin’s fucking—” he groaned as you pumped him, smearing precum over the rigid head with your thumb. “Ready, doll?”

You angled your hips forward, lining him up with your gooey entrance. He batted your hand away, grabbing his base and easing himself a few inches inside of you, hissing through his teeth.

“Of course you have the perfect fucking pussy,” he grated, almost angry. “Why wouldn't you fit me like a glove? You fucking brat—”

You were barely listening, lost in the delicious feeling of him spearing you on his cock, ripping you apart at the seams and stitching you back together in the shape of him.

“Fuck, Sirius,” you mewled, falling back onto the desk when he bottomed out, so full it felt like he was in your lungs, your heart, your throat.

He drew his hips back, pausing just before his tip left your entrance. “Say my name again,” he growled, leaning over you.

You bit your lip, eyes flashing with defiance despite the need tearing apart your insides.

“Oh, darling,” he chuckled. He shifted forward, slamming his hips into yours with a brutal punch to your cervix. “I'll get it out of you one way or another.”

He fucked you mercilessly, driving in and out of you like he'd somehow exorcise the attitude from your body. And you fucking loved it, keening and crying out as you thrashed underneath him, unable to get purchase on the smooth wood beneath you. But you held your tongue, refusing to say his name.

“You really are a brat, you know? So fucking spoiled,” he growled against your neck, breathless, his grip painful on your hips. “Giving me nothing but attitude, and here I am, giving you exactly what you fucking want.” He slapped your clit, making you jump and cry out as your orgasm pulled taught, a hairs width from shattering.

“Sirius, please,” you begged, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as the last of your resolve crumbled.

“That’s better,” he cooed, so condescending you'd punch him if you weren't about to explode. “See? You can be a good girl.” His middle finger found you clit again, moving into tight, fast circles, and you detonated.

An inferno burned from your core through every muscle fiber and tendon, every cell and every atom, eviscerating your mind until you were nothing but ash and starlight, weightless and scattered.

But Sirius didn't let up for a second, and you were quickly wrenched back into your body, oversensitive and wrung out, crying real tears as he fucked you through it.

“Fuck, that was beautiful. You even come pretty. Got another one for me? Shit, baby—feels like you do. Squeezin’ me so tight—fuck!” He roared as his own release crashed over him, his cock kicking hard against your tender walls and painting you with rope after rope of his seed.

The feeling drove you into another, smaller orgasm, your body lifting to wrap around his as you both shook and whined, clinging to one another through the onslaught.

He braced his hands on either side of your head, breathing labored and trembling so hard the desk shook beneath you. You collapsed onto your back, thighs clenching and unclenching around his hips, mirroring the frantic flutter of your used cunt.

He kissed you a final time, loose and featherlight, and your heart gave a weak trill. Your breath mingled another moment before he stepped away from you, tucking himself back into trousers.

You sat up, feeling his release squelch between your thighs, and shame crashed down over you, hard enough to steal you breath.

Thorfinn was going to fucking kill you, if he didn't kill Sirius first.

He noticed your expression shift. “Nobody needs to know,” Sirius said, his low, steady voice cutting through the cacophony of panic in your mind. “I won't say anything. To anyone.”

“Not even Potter?” You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

“No, not even James. This stays between us,” his tone was soft, more sincere than you'd ever heard him, and it assuaged some of your fear.

You nodded, exhaling, though the relief was quickly overshadowed with sour guilt, and something else you refused to look at closely enough to name.

Sirius approached you again, catching your chin and tilting your head up towards him. “But when you go back up there, dance with my cousin, kiss him at midnight, I want you to remember who's dripping between your thighs. Who you were screaming for.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, jerking your chin out of his hold.

“Already did,” he smirked, disappearing into the corridor before you could say anything else.

Heat scorching your cheeks, you cleaned yourself up as best you could in the privvy before returning to party.

Rabastan and Thorfinn descended on you immediately. Sirius was nowhere in sight.

“Where have you been?” Thor growled, tugging you closer by the wrist, his giant hands making the thin bones grind together.

“I told you,” Rab cut in, his voice a glacial calm. “She stepped out to the ladies and to get some fresh air. These parties can be overwhelming for those with a gentler constitution.” Rab gave you a knowing look, a ‘keep your mouth shut and go with it' look, and you nodded in agreement.

His hand fell to your lower back, tugging you closer to him and away from Thor, and like the spineless coward you were, you went gratefully into his embrace.

As if his cousins come wasn't crusting along your inner thighs. Like your lips weren't still tingling from Sirius’ kiss.

“Now, take your hand off of her before I remove it,” Rab ordered, sharp as a razor’s edge.

Thor looked back and forth between the two of you, the singular gear in his brain turning.

Thor released you, suddenly seeming entirely too pleased, and dread coiled in your gut. Some kind of exchange had occurred, a currency trading hands, and it made you vaguely nauseous.

“Come, darling,” Rab murmured to you, leading you back towards the dance floor. “It's only a few moments ‘til midnight.”

When the clock finally wound down, the bell tower tolling loudly enough to shake the floors, instead of pulling you in for a kiss like you expected, Rabastan bowed low. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your ring finger, the same place a diamond would find it's home, and you flushed from head to toe.

Tingles erupted all over your body, your muscles tensing with excitement, but it was quickly followed by a twinge of exhaustion in your core, a sobering reminder of what you'd done.

God, what had you done?

Thank you for reading! 🤍

[bumblehoneybee]

Hear me out hear me out

Captain Curly x reader .. but it's after the crash. Curly never really saw reader in a certain light before, but now that they are starting to take care of him, he "loves" them. Or moreso mistakes his feelings of codependency as falling in love

You're All I Have

Consciousness was strained and barely hanging on by a thread. Pain, however, forced Curly to be aware, to understand what was happening to him, even if he was exhausted and mentally ravaged. It only eased when the pills kicked in, and taking those was a chore. It hurt, it all hurt no matter what.

Curly wished it would all stop, he would pass out and maybe wake up to a world where this wasn't his reality.

But then, he reasoned, watching the doors carefully, he wouldn't be aware of your visits.

Being a janitor on the Tulpar, your hours were flipped from all the others. You crept out at night, taking care of everything that could result in sickness or disrepair to the ship. Curly had to let you into the cockpit a few times too, so he knew your work was important.

He never noticed, however, how tired you always looked doing what you did. Cleaning wasn't really the most interesting activity, and your hours kept you away from the others, so you weren't interacting with many folks. It had to be lonely.

Curly could relate some, now. Besides Anya and Jimmy, he didn't really get visits from the others, and those two who were around weren't ever much for conversation.

But you, with your new duty of watching over Curly's condition at night, were fine to talk with him for hours. You whose touch was feather light on his charred skin. You who would coax water into him, massaging his throat to help it down. Hell, you even got him swallowing some of the softer food, guiding bites to the back of his throat where reflexes would take care of the rest.

Curly felt a little more human with you. He could watch your hands carefully wind his bandages for hours, washing them and disinfecting them before reapplying them with what medicine you could find. You covered his remaining eye in a wet cloth so it didn't dry out, talking him into a state so close to sleep.

Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd even sing. Slow and soothing songs would spill out of you, every hiccup in tone or lyric followed by a breathy laugh and a smile Curly couldn't believe he never noticed before. It was hard to smile nowadays, but here, tucked away in the med bay, you shared them with him, and only him.

Your hand drifted down his cheek, just barely there for him to feel. Curly sighed, leaning into your touch despite how his skin protested the stretch. He wished he could speak more than just rasps of a dry throat. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he appreciated you doing this for him.

He could only groan, though.

You nodded. "Yeah, I bet." Grabbing a small cup of water, you eased Curly's head upright, helping him drink. "We'll get picked up, so don't worry, Curls. We'll get ya a real doctor with equipment and shit, not this poser and their terrible bedside manner, yeah?"

Curly grumbled best he could without choking on the water. It earned him a smirk, tired and dazzling.

"I'm gonna help ya get better." You promised him. "And soon you'll be bossing us around again."

Nah. Curly didn't want that. He didn't want to be your boss or your coworker. He wanted to take care of you, though. Wanted you to take care of him too. Once he healed, as much as he could possibly heal, he'd hope you'd stick around. Let him lean on you some more, sing to him some more, ease his nerves and his pain.

He'd repent, beg forgiveness, tell you the truth and then some. He'd work hard, with Anya and everyone, to make sure things were fixed for the better. He'd get better. He would. He promised.

So please. . . don't go.

You were all he had.

[blackenedsnow]

um you do requests for shadow the hedgehog right? Can we have a shadow fic with a s/o who has a extreme fear of doctors and needles so they have been negecting themselfs ecen though they are extermely sick?.. and shadow has to help them through a doctors appointment?.

trust in me

WARNING: Fear of doctors/needles (medical anxiety), mentions of illness and neglecting health

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Hi anon! Thank you so much for this heartfelt request <3 Sending so much love and care your way! Take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: When your fear of doctors and needles causes you to neglect your health, Shadow steps in, determined to help you face your fears and get the care you need, no matter how much support it takes.

The room felt like it was shrinking. You sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, but even the layers didn’t help the cold sweat trickling down your back. You’d been sick for a while now, and while you could try to hide it with casual excuses, Shadow wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed.

“Enough.” His voice cut through the silence like a blade. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, Shadow fixed you with a pointed glare that only barely masked his concern. “You’re not getting any better. You need to see a doctor.”

Your chest tightened immediately. “No. I’m fine—really. I just need—”

“You need treatment,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shrank under his gaze, your fingers gripping the blanket. “I can’t,” you whispered. “Nooo.. it’s too much. I can’t do it, Shadow.”

He softened at your admission, the sharpness in his eyes fading. Shadow wasn’t good with words, but he wasn’t heartless. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his crimson gaze locking with yours.

“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “Fear can be... overwhelming. But letting it control you? That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “What if I panic? What if it hurts? What if—”

“Stop.” Shadow placed a gloved hand over yours, his grip reassuring but not forceful. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be there every step of the way. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak.

“Then let me help you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

The waiting room was quiet, save for the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of a magazine being flipped. You sat stiffly in the chair, arms folded tightly across your chest, as though you could physically keep the anxiety from breaking through your skin.

Shadow sat beside you, calm as ever. His arms were crossed, one foot tapping impatiently, but his sharp red gaze kept flicking to you. “Stop bouncing your knee,” he muttered, but his voice wasn’t as gruff as usual. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”

“I can’t help it,” you whispered, your voice tight. “I hate this. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“You’re here because you’re sick,” Shadow replied firmly. “If you’d gone earlier like you should have, you wouldn’t be this bad off.”

You shot him a glare, but the truth stung too much to argue. The constant fever, the coughing fits, the bone-deep exhaustion—your body had been screaming for help for weeks, but the thought of doctors and needles kept you rooted in denial. It wasn’t until Shadow had carried you out of the couch this morning, wrapped in a blanket, that you realized there was no more avoiding it.

The nurse called your name, and your stomach dropped. Shadow stood, glancing down at you. “Come on.”

Your legs felt like lead, but somehow, you followed him. The nurse led the two of you into a small, sterile room, and the faint scent of antiseptic hit your nose. You froze in the doorway. Shadow glanced over his shoulder, catching your hesitation immediately.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. His voice softened, only slightly, but it was enough to steady you. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, letting him guide you inside. The nurse took your vitals—though she had to coax you into holding still for the blood pressure cuff—and scribbled notes onto her clipboard before leaving you to wait for the doctor.

Sitting on the exam table, you curled your fingers into the edge of the paper covering it, trying not to fidget. Shadow leaned against the wall, watching you closely.

“You don’t have to look so terrified,” he said dryly. “The doctor isn’t going to attack you.”

���It feels like they will,” you muttered.

He let out a quiet “hmph,” but his gaze softened. “I’ll handle the talking. You just sit there and focus on not passing out.”

When the doctor finally entered, you tensed again, your heart pounding. She was calm and professional, asking routine questions that Shadow answered without hesitation. He rattled off your symptoms and timeline with a sharp precision that made it clear he’d been paying more attention to your health than you had.

“We’re going to need to run some tests,” the doctor said, glancing at you. “A blood draw is necessary, along with—”

“No.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, panic flashing across your face. “I can’t—”

“They’ll do it quickly,” Shadow cut in, his tone firm. He stepped closer to you, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. “It’s not going to kill you. You can do this.”

The doctor hesitated, looking between the two of you, then nodded. “I’ll have the nurse bring the supplies.”

You stared at Shadow, your breathing uneven. “I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice steady. “Look at me.”

You did, locking onto the crimson of his eyes. “Breathe,” he instructed. “In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Just like that.”

When the nurse returned, Shadow didn’t move from your side. He guided you to focus on his voice while the nurse swabbed your arm and prepared the needle. When the prick came, you flinched, but his hand was steady on your shoulder.

“It’s over,” he said quietly, the moment the needle was withdrawn. “See? You didn’t die.”

Your lips twitched at his deadpan delivery. “That was awful.”

“Maybe. But you got through it.” His gaze was unrelenting, but there was something warm in his tone that made your chest ache. “Next time, don’t wait until you’re half-dead to get help. Got it?”

You sighed but nodded. “Got it.”

Shadow smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Good."

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

I know princess reader is all the rage, but please consider the servant reader x knight:

You decide to bed him, hoping it will get him off of your back. Perhaps once he has had a taste, he will give up and go on to a different girl.

You propose the idea when you're alone in the kitchen with him, cleaning.

"You want me to bed you?" he asks, eating scraps that the royals barely touched.

"Only if you want to."

"You must've heard the rumors, then."

You pause before wiping down the counter.

"I've heard some things."

"From the ladies, I presume."

"Yes..."

"Have you considered that perhaps the rumors are not true?"

"I find it hard to believe that that you haven't bed at least one of the maids—"

"Or," he starts, holding up his hand, "perhaps the women have just been speaking to the stable boys? Perhaps the squires have seen me while I bathe and spread rumors to entice the women of the grounds."

"So you have not bed anyone?"

He pauses, rolling his shoulders.

"Not here."

"How many then?"

His tongue presses into his cheek.

"Two. One when I was young and foolish, another I intended to marry but she died from the plague."

You hum, nodding slow.

"And you? How many have you taken to bed?" You think.

"One. I also intended to marry him, but he died in battle." He nods, twisting his mouth. "So, you do not wish to bed me."

"I never said such a thing, my dear lady." He rises from the table. "I only want to bed you if you fancy me as I fancy you."

You swallow. He towers over you, making you feel so small in comparison.

"I cannot promise you love," you mutter, barely able to meet his eye. "I can only give you the night."

He's quiet. He seems to be thinking as he searches your face.

You guide him to your quarters, tiptoeing past the other servants' rooms before finding your own, locking the door behind you. You light a candle and covers the window.

He is undressing you before you realize.

When you are in bed with him, he is attentive, gentle. His hands are rough and calloused, but he touches you as if you are a teacup. Lips move their way up your legs, and you shiver at the contact.

When he presses his lips to your mound, you jolt.

"S-Sir!" you yell in a hush. "Where are you putting your mouth?!"

"Here," he says calmly, pressing a thumb to the lips of your cunt. "Where the heavens part."

"B-But why sir? Why would you put your mouth there?"

"Did your past lover never kiss you here?" he asks, eyeing you. You shake your head and he smirks. "Then I shall be the first to taste you from your fountain?" He inches closer, pressing his nose into you. "I hope to be the only to have you like this."

His tongue is sinful. It wiggles and squirms, pulling pleasure from places you did not know could feel so good. And when he sucks you into his mouth, by god, you see stars.

You unravel on his mouth more than you ever have in your life. You didn't think it was possible to feel such pleasure, and he hasn't even taken out his manhood.

When he does undress, your eyes widen.

"It won't fit."

"It will, my lady. We will make it fit."

And he does. He does make it fit after he stretches you with his fingers, your pleasure leaking down your ass.

You feel so, so full when he pushes inside, hands pushing against his shoulders. He shushes you when you whine, kissing along your neck.

"You feel divine, my lady."

"I feel as though I may burst." He chuckles low at that.

"Strange. I feel the same."

When he moves, you have to cover your mouth to quiet yourself. His thrusting does not falter no matter how you squirm beneath him. Each pump of his cock has you seeing white, eyes wide and rolling.

"My lady, my darling, my princess."

And it all comes crashing down. You realize that he is not there for you. He is using you while he thinks of the princess.

You feel sick.

"Please, take it out."

"What is wrong, my sweet? Your eyes are filled with tears. Does it hurt?"

"I do not want you here anymore."

"What has happened, my dear? Why are you being so cold?"

"Why do you care? Did you only agree to bed me so you could think of the princess? If you want her so badly, just go to her!"

He stops your hands from hitting him, pressing them down to your cot.

"My lady... do you think I was thinking of the princess?"

"You said 'my princess'."

"I..." His eyes search your face. "My lady, I was calling you my princess."

You blink, tears falling.

"W-What?"

"You are my princess. You, only you. I do not care for that detestable girl."

"You... You should not say such things about the princess—"

"Damn the princess. I do not care for her. I have never loved her or wanted to bed her. I am not with the princess, but I am with my princess. Do you understand me?"

You nod, in shock, gasping when he presses into you.

"Good. Now, may I return to pleasuring my princess?"

You nod quickly.

[poetic-vulgarity]

ʍoN ǝW ɹɐǝH II - Karina x Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Prompt: Ever since they were trainees, Y/N knew just what buttons to push to frustrate Jimin.

Maybe she took things a bit too far when she decided to cheat on her.

Tags: Angst, Cheating, Ghosting

Part I, Part 2

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

"I already told you I want the schedule changed!"

Jimin rolled her eyes at Y/N's irresponsible, petty, selfish behavior. "And I already told you, your schedule isn't being changed. Suck it up and deal with it!"

Y/N felt her words get stuck in her throat for a little while. You know? That feeling of injustice that just takes over you?

"This is ridiculous! I'm not flying 14 hours to Chicago for a four-minute shoot. Even you have to be dense to not see the problem!"

It was two o'clock in the morning, and they had a packed schedule the next day. Jimin could be in bed, like the rest of the members. Yet, there she was, in the middle of the living room, listening to Y/N.

"You're acting like an idiot," Jimin said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her glare was icy. Then again, she barely looked at Y/N without it anymore. "You signed a contract. Just follow it and keep your mouth shut."

"I'm acting like an idiot?" Y/N hissed, hands balled into fists at her sides. She felt like she was choking with rage.

The cold, unforgiving look in Jimin's eyes took her off guard even more—the way the older girl was glaring at her, like she was nothing more than a little nuisance.

She didn’t think, or even realize she was doing it, but she took a step forward until she was right in front of Jimin, staring her down.

"Had this been Minjeong, Aeri, or Ning, you would've fought to have the schedule changed."

"Well, it's not, is it?" 

Y/N swallowed hard. She didn’t know why those words hurt more.

"I'm your member as well," Y/N gritted her teeth, fists so tight her nails dug into the rough skin of her palm. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Fuck our relationship—you could at least treat me like your member. Do your job as a leader."

"I'll be a leader when you start being a member," Jimin scowled. "Because I'm done with your attitude. You're selfish, and all you do is create problems for the group. When have you actually been useful for us? Or do you serve only to create those stupid headlines when you decide to be a dumbass now and then?"

That made Y/N flinch. Jimin sounded disgusted.

"Fuck you, Jimin." She spat out, grabbing her jacket and shoes as she made her way to the front door of the dorm.

Jimin wanted to follow her.

She wanted to scream at Y/N too. Tell her how much of an idiot she was.

But no. Jimin was the older one between them. She was the leader of the group. It was her job to be the level-headed one between the two of them.

Her hands shook with pent-up rage. But she didn't say anything. She didn't follow Y/N to apologize.

Jimin stood alone in the middle of their dorm, feeling more empty than she ever had.

In the end, it was just another fight.

Another one of their usual fights.

And everything went back to how it used to be.

They went to Chicago. Y/N was there for a few hours before catching a plane to Italy for another event, then she returned to South Korea.

SM Town was close, and the girls needed to practice.

The fact that Y/N was exhausted, jet-lagged, and a little sick from the photoshoots outside in the winter changed nothing.

"Hello, guys! How are you?"

They waved at the camera, filming the scenes for a backstage vlog that would be posted on their channel.

"Today, we are here to practice for our upcoming performance at SM Town. As always, we are very excited!"

It was Giselle's turn to speak, so Jimin took a step back, arms wrapped around Minjeong's waist as she rested her head on the smaller girl's shoulder from behind.

Y/N could practically see the comments coming their way.

'Winrina is perfect'

'I want someone who looks at me the way Karina looks at Winter'

'They should just kiss already'

It was inevitable to find them in every single video where the two were a bit more touchy.

Y/N felt like a fool.

Jimin and her weren't together anymore. They broke up months ago, and yet…

When Jimin looked at Minjeong, Y/N could only see the love and adoration in her eyes.

She felt sick to her stomach.

She hung around in the background while the girls filmed the video, perking up with a comment or two just to make it seem like she was really there.

Other than that, she didn’t really speak.

She was too exhausted. Her body felt heavy. And it was starting to get difficult to keep a smile on her face. Her throat felt sore. Her eyes felt droopy.

She wondered if Jimin could feel her staring at her and Minjeong from behind Aeri. It was hard not to, when the older girl kept nuzzling her face on Minjeong's neck, making the singer giggle.

It wasn't something that was totally surprising, though. Not when it had happened so many times before.

It was during interviews, shows, recording sessions. It was in the studio, in the dance practice room, in the streets, at home.

With Minjeong, Aeri, and Ning. But mostly with Minjeong.

Again, not surprising. But it felt rather lonely for Y/N.

The group had always been so close. She had once considered Minjeong her soulmate, Giselle her older sister, Ning her little one.

Now they only looked at her when the cameras were on.

She understood them, in some way. In the other way, she was constantly angry at them.

No one had given her a chance to explain herself when the entire cheating incident occurred. She knew it looked bad, but they had been teammates for years. Minjeong had been her best friend since before they even met Jimin... and they couldn't even hear her out?

So, yeah, she felt petty enough to be mad at all of them for a while. It was a flame that still burned in her chest, but more softly now. She was getting tired.

"Y/N, what about you, how are you feeling about the dance routine?" The cameraman suddenly turned to her.

Y/N took a sharp breath in, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden question.

She looked towards the camera and sent it a smile.

"I'm excited," Y/N said, her voice coming out a little croaky. "I'm sure we're going to give the best performance we can. We've been practicing really hard for it. I'm very proud of all the members."

And she meant it.

They were like perfect machines on stage, able to work together and put on a good performance. It was almost as if they could tell what the other members wanted.

It had been what made Aespa such a hit in the first place.

But you can't be hits without a lot of work. And a lot of work happened to be the biggest problem in Y/N's life.

Only one day before SMTown, the girls were invited to a radio show, and management only refused offers when they literally couldn't find a single vacant spot in Aespa's schedule.

So, there they were.

"What is Winter's favorite color?"

Jimin was quick to jump on her seat, "Ivory!"

A small ding echoed around the radio studio, and a big smile took over the leader's face as she celebrated.

"Very well! We are at 6 points for Y/N, 4 points for Karina, Winter, and Giselle, and 3 points for Ning. This last question will either decide the 2nd place of the game or equalize Ning to the second place," the radio show announced as loud music played in the background.

"And the last question is... what is Y/N's favourite ice cream flavor?"

Jimin's hand flew to the button, along with Winter's, Ning's, and Giselle's.

The answer was obvious for them. They had spent countless hours making fun of Y/N for it.

"Cinnamon!" Jimin was the first to respond.

"Yeah, she likes cinnamon ice cream," Winter grimaced. "It's disgusting."

"Don't know how she eats it."

"That is correct!" The announcer turned his card around to reveal the answer, and a small smile appeared on Y/N's face.

"Jimin wins second place!"

Yeah, Y/N didn't want to let Jimin win. "Actually, I'm allergic to cinnamon."

Everyone froze for a few seconds. Karina, in particular, was quick to frown, head snapping to Y/N. She knew all of Y/N's allergies. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You're not."

Y/N chuckled, looking around the room as she noticed how heavy the atmosphere was getting. "I am," she let out quietly. "It's quite recent."

Jimin was confused, to say the least. Y/N loved cinnamon. She liked it in sweets, ice creams, perfumes. Hell, Jimin switched her perfume for a cinnamon one when she found out Y/N liked it, years ago. She still used it to this day.

"Since when?"

"A few months ago." Y/N sent her a knowing look before turning to the host. "I say no one gets the point since they got it wrong."

Jimin refused to believe what she was hearing. 

Was Y/N lying?

She had almost missed these little spats between them.

Almost.

"No, no! How am I supposed to know your allergies? I deserve the point!" Jimin argued in the most polite way possible, but Y/N could see the competitive fire behind her eyes.

"As the leader..." Y/N was definitely going there. "Isn't it... your obligation?"

Jimin opened her mouth to respond but Y/N was already talking again.

"You know what," she said, shrugging her shoulders. There was a small smile on her face. She was enjoying this—enjoying how irritated Jimin was getting, how competitive she was getting, how flustered she was. Enjoying how much it took for her to swallow the words that really wanted to come out. "Never mind, just give her the point. She needs it anyway."

And Jimin had to fight back the urge to glare at the other girl.

The host laughed loudly and pointed at Y/N, who had been mostly quiet during the entire show. "I like you!"

Y/N smiled back at him, and they soon moved on to another part of the radio show.

She didn't think much of the entire interaction, but apparently, Jimin did.

Y/N stepped away for a little while once the show had ended, needing to use the bathroom. The managers and members decided to make their way to the vans and told Y/N to join them when she was ready.

Which is why she wasn't expecting to come out of the bathroom and see her ex-girlfriend leaning against the wall of the secluded hallway.

Jimin turned to look at her when she heard Y/N coming out of the bathroom, looking more refreshed than before.

She let out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't you think you're being a bit petty?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed together but face soft, expression neutral.

Y/N was genuinely confused. "Sorry?"

Jimin let out another sigh. "What you said back there. During the show?" she asked, a little annoyed with Y/N. She always managed to make her emotions flare up.

"With the cinnamon?" Y/N shrugged. "What about it?"

"You lied just to get a rise out of me," Jimin grumbled out, looking at Y/N incredulously.

Y/N almost chuckled. "I didn't lie."

"Are you kidding me?" Jimin took a step closer, eyes narrowing into a glare. "You've loved cinnamon your entire life! Every perfume I bought, everything I ever baked for you had cinnamon. Hell, I'm still wearing the perfume right now!"

Y/N nodded, taking a step back as her back pressed against the bathroom door. "Yeah, maybe you should back off a little."

"Are you kidding me?!" Jimin said, hands on her hips now. She was frustrated with her ex-girlfriend, more than she'd been in a while. "You wanted the point so bad you had to lie about it like a child?"

Then it hit her.

What Y/N said.

"What do you mean by 'I should back off a little'?" she asked, taking another step closer.

"I mean, back off!" Y/N pressed a hand to Jimin's shoulder to nudge her away. She was gentle, but her glare wasn't. In only a few seconds, she was walking down the hallway again.

Jimin watched her go, the feeling of Y/N brushing against her skin sending warm chills up her spine. She couldn't help but let her body lean forward, subconsciously wanting to chase after the younger girl.

What was she doing? Why was she acting like this?

"Y/N—"

Y/N was gone already because she knew arguing with Jimin didn't take her anywhere.

She knew they would throw insults at each other until one of them had enough and left.

And she knew that because that's what always happened. And it would continue to happen, for as long as Jimin and the other members refused to hear her out.

So, she got inside the waiting van, put her headphones on, and closed her eyes, pretending she was far away instead of there.

Jimin got into the van shortly after, sitting next to Ning in the very back. She let her eyes wander across the van, taking in the way Minjeong and Aeri interacted with each other—laughing, giggling, smiling, and talking.

And then there was Y/N.

Honestly, Jimin tried to keep the cheating between the two of them. She had never wanted their relationship to affect the group. But Minjeong happened to find her mid panic attack, right after seeing Y/N with the man, and Jimin just couldn't keep the secret to herself. She made Minjeong promise to not treat Y/N differently after that—the two had been best friends long before Jimin appeared in their lives.

But Minjeong was simply unable to look at Y/N in the same way. And when Ning and Aeri noticed the attitude, they were quick to get the answers to their questions as well.

Y/N cheated on Jimin. Y/N was a cheater.

And cheaters didn't deserve kindness.

So, the dynamics within the group shifted, leaving Y/N on one end of the spectrum and the rest of the members on the other.

Jimin bit down on her bottom lip, leaning her head against the side of the van. There was some part of her that still cared about Y/N and this whole situation. She tried her best not to, but she was still so in love with the girl. And she understood her anger.

But that didn't change what had happened. Y/N had broken her trust. She had betrayed her and she had hurt her.

Jimin was lost in her thoughts before someone shook her shoulder. "Huh?" She asked, looking at Ning with a frown.

Ning pointed to the car window, "We're here."

The rest of the members were getting out of the van already. Jimin nodded, grabbing her own bag from beside her before getting out as well.

The five of them were quick to get home and settle in for the night.

Their schedule was impossible these days, so they could never wait to finally get comfortable in their beds.

It was what usually happened. They get comfortable in their b—

"Where the hell are you going?" Jimin was on her way to her bedroom, fresh out of a shower, when she happened to cross a fully dressed and prepared Y/N.

"Out." Y/N said bluntly, not even looking back at Jimin as she pulled a leather jacket over her shoulders. She ran a hand through her hair, a pair of heels in her hands.

Jimin's jaw almost dropped. "You're going out?" She asked, following the girl out towards the living room. She looked good. Really good. Her makeup was perfect, black shirt hugging her body. She always knew how to dress up.

Jimin crossed her arms over her chest, "Where?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N let out a sigh.

This was the last thing she wanted to do.

Explain herself to Jimin.

"Just out."

Jimin shook her head, "It's almost one in the morning, Y/N. You're going nowhere."

Y/N halted by the door, jaw clenched as she turned to Jimin. Her expression was surprisingly calm and, if Jimin didn't know how to read her so well, she might have believed her to be civil.

"Since when are you the one who get's to tell me where I can and can't go?"

Jimin rolled her eyes, "Do you know how many creeps are out at this time? Just stay in."

"Only creep I see is you." Y/N huffed, reaching for the door handle to finally leave.

At that, Jimin let out a scoff. "You weren't saying that when you begged to come back to me after cheating on me."

Y/N almost scoffed. Bringing up their relationship and the cheating always felt like a low blow. "And look who's begging now."

"You—" Jimin's body tensed up, "You're pathetic! You'll go out there and do what? Get attacked and stabbed on the sidewalk?" Jimin asked, almost shouting at her ex-girlfriend.

"Close." Y/N smiled, "I'm gonna get laid."

That made Jimin's breath hitch. She could feel the way her blood boiled and her face heated up. She couldn't let herself lose control of the situation.

"Yeah," Jimin let out, sarcasm dripping from her words, "A new boyfriend. Of course. Cheating on me just wasn't enough, huh?"

"We can talk about it if you want. You know, it's not like we ever got to do that." Y/N was tired of the backhanded shade thrown her way every day.

"Oh, you wanna talk?" Jimin rolled her eyes, taking a few steps closer to where Y/N was standing. "You cheated on me and now you wanna talk? And what good will that do?"

Y/N's heart broke at the accusation. It still hurt to believe that Jimin would think so little of her.

What was the point in even explaining herself? If Jimin didn't trust her enough to even hear her out, then there was no salvation.

Her eyes dropped to the ground as a sigh escaped her lips, "Forget it."

"No, no. You wanted to talk, let's talk!" Jimin said, taking a step closer to Y/N. Her eyes full of anger, sadness, and confusion.

She really wanted to hear what Y/N had to say. She didn't know why, but she desperately wanted to hear it. Maybe she wanted some kind of validation for her own feelings. For the emotions she was still trying to get over.

"Explain yourself, Y/N. Try to explain yourself."

"So you want to hear me out?"

Jimin let out a sigh, "Please?"

She really did. She needed to understand what had happened. 

Y/N was the sweetest person ever. She was the nicest and kindest person Jimin knew.

So how could she do this to her?

"No." Y/N shook her head.

Jimin felt her heart sink in her chest, the little hope she felt getting fainter. "No?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Stings, huh?" Y/N felt all her buried emotions surfacing, "Trying to make things work, only to be shut down? That was the response you gave me seven months ago, when I tried talking to you. And when I tried again a week after, and the week after that, and the following weeks- the fucking months following that!"

Jimin's jaw clenched. She remembered that. She remembered every detail of it. It hurt.

She wanted to take back everything she said back then. She wanted to take back every mean word, but it was too late. She couldn't go back and change how she felt. She couldn't undo it, but she wished she had let Y/N have peace of mind.

"You cheated on me, Y/N. Did you really expect me to be calm? To be gentle and nice when you hurt me?"

A small, broken smile appeared on Y/N's face. "I just wanted you to hear me out. Instead, you shut me out and turned the members against me."

She finally opened the door, "Very leaderlike of you, I must say."

"What the hell are you talking about? None of them turned against you because of me." Jimin shook her head. "They turned against you because you cheated on me!"

She could feel her blood boiling, the way her face heated. "They're my friends! Of course they were going to take my side!"

"Yeah, they were my friends too."

Jimin bit down on her bottom lip. She knew what Y/N said was true. But it didn't change how hurt the members were. Cheating was one of the worst things a person could do. And that was why none of them spoke to Y/N anymore.

"Maybe if you didn't get drunk with some random man you met at the awards, they would still be." Jimin said, voice cold and stern.

Y/N nodded. "Do me a favor and give them a warning for me, yeah? I'm about to be a whore again, so hopefully they can still look at me without vomiting by the time I come back."

"What-"

"And give them all a little kiss in the ass while you're at it too." Y/N closed the door behind herself and didn't look back.

Her friends were waiting for her downstairs, at the entrance door.

They weren't the best influence. Hell, they weren't even a good influence. But they talked to her, they looked at her, and most importantly, they didn't give a single fuck about her idol life.

"Dude, you gotta convince that stupid security guard to give us entrance rights. This is getting ridiculous." Daeun huffed loudly, nudging Y/N as they walked to her car.

The pub wasn't very far away.

Y/N spent her night just as she had promised Jimin. Drinking, dancing, and kissing strangers.

Most were too drunk to recognize her. The ones that weren't were, surprisingly, nice enough to just let her enjoy the night.

When she woke up, a massive headache had taken over her skull. She groaned, squinting her eyes closed when the sunlight slipped through the barely closed curtains and worsened her pain.

It took her a while, but she eventually realized that her phone was ringing. She groaned again, trying to turn around in the bed, when an unfamiliar weight around her waist kept her in place.

She froze, eyes finally opening to find a pretty stranger sleeping at her side.

"Shit."

Her touch was light as she picked up the woman's arm and set it aside. By the time she grabbed her phone, the call had ended, but it didn't take long for another one to ring through.

"Hello?" Y/N croaked out, voice raspy from the lack of water.

"Where the hell are you?"

Jimin's voice appeared through the other line, loud enough to make Y/N jump out of the bed. The last thing she wanted was to wake up the sleeping woman and go through the entire one-night-stand awkward conversation.

"That's... that's a very good question." Y/N's voice was low. She crouched to grab her jacket off the ground, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she got dressed.

"Y/N, don't play with me right now." Jimin had never been so angry at anybody. "We're all in the fucking venue—the managers are going crazy looking for you. Do you know how many times I've been yelled at already?! Where the fuck are you?"

"I-" Y/N looked around the room, trying to find any clue. Nothing. "Don't worry about it. I'll open Google Maps as soon as our call ends, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Jimin yelled as she started pacing back and forth.

The managers were yelling at her, her members were worried. Hell, even their seniors had noticed that Y/N was not around. Everyone was trying to find the whereabouts of the same person.

"You're in so much trouble, Y/N! What if this leaks? The fucking administration board has already set up a meeting to talk about this—do you have any idea of what you've just done?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. She was a grown woman. She had a right to go out and be normal for a little while. They were acting like she had killed som-

There was the door.

"What if someone caught you on camera, Y/N?! What if Dispatch was following you all along? You could destroy the entire group! How could you be so fucking selfish? How could you do this to me and the gi-"

Jimin was cut off by a loud scream on the other end of the call.

She stopped dead in her tracks, the anger from before immediately dissolving. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

The other line was quiet, which terrified Jimin even more. Her stomach twisted as she waited to hear something from the other end of the call.

Pretty soon, she heard another scream.

"Y/N!" Jimin yelled, her heart thumping in her chest. Someone was hurt, she knew it. Y/N was hurt. Y/N was hurt and instead of trying to find out where she was, she had been yelling at her until now.

"Y/N, I swear to God if you don't answer me right now!"

But Y/N couldn't answer—her phone wasn't even pressed to her ear anymore.

She was surrounded.

By two young women. They looked at her with wide eyes, fallen mouths covered with their hands.

"You're—you're Y/N! From Aespa!"

"Y/N from Aespa is in our flat—holy shit!!!"

It didn't take long for the woman Y/N had slept with to run out of her room—no doubt awakened by the screams. She paused to try and understand what was happening, but then her eyes landed on Y/N.

Y/N from Aespa.

Standing in her hallway with messy hair, an unbuttoned top, and heels in hand.

The woman jumped away. "Holy shit!"

Y/N gulped. She needed to get out of there. Right now.

"Can you give me an autograph?" one of them asked. Y/N stared at her.

"That depends..." Y/N looked around the group. "Does any of you have a car?"

Only an hour later, Y/N was stepping out of a Volvo, and the girls were driving away with their pockets a little heavier.

She was finally where she needed to be. The perfect place to continue getting yelled at.

And, indeed, she was.

She was escorted inside the venue by security guards that recognized her.

One of the group's managers was the first to find her.

He stormed through the hallways, looking for the same person that everyone in the building had been searching for. He had been to her dorm, to the dance practice room, and even to her favorite cafe. He searched so hard but found nothing.

That was until he turned a corner and spotted the face that had been driving him insane.

"Where the hell have you been?" the man yelled. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Y/N halted on her steps, knowing that she was in trouble.

The man was fuming, the blood rushing up to his head.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused this morning?! You're lucky the press didn't catch you out last night! If they had, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You would be in Lee Soo Man's office giving him an explanation on your shitty behavior this morning."

The man ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. "I've been up since seven in the morning trying to find you, do you have any idea of how worried everyone was?"

Y/N pursed her lips, eyes drawn to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" The man's eyes widened; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I don't give a crap about your sorry. I'm your manager, you're supposed to answer to me. You can't pull things like this!"

He stopped and took a few breaths, his heart beating faster than he would like.

And then he opened his mouth and continued his yelling. He was soon joined by the two other Aespa managers, and if the entire situation wasn't a loud mess with one man, you could be sure it was with three.

Y/N didn't have much of a choice. She stood there and listened.

She didn't agree with everything they shouted at her, but she wasn't mental enough to speak up.

By the time she reached the stage, where her members were already waiting, the group was an hour behind on schedule, and no one would look her in the eye.

Y/N had to take her hat off to the girls.

They kept their act up.

Be it during practice, when they got home at the end of the day, or the following day—during SMTown.

She was used to being sort of shoved aside, but they had never outright ghosted her.

Their resolve didn't even budge when they were filming an SM Town vlog, so Y/N got a good three seconds of screen time during the video. It, ultimately, didn't matter. Y/N didn't even know why she noticed it.

SM Town began. SM Town ended. The crowd loved it.

Y/N spent more time with her seniors and other groups than with her own members. And by the time night fell and everyone gathered around to go celebrate the show, Y/N was stopped by her manager.

"You should change."

Y/N frowned, eyes falling on the outfit she had just changed into. It was comfortable for her to relax a little but pretty enough to go out and celebrate.

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?"

The man shook his head. "No; it's just not fit for running."

Y/N didn't understand. "Running?"

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a security guard approaching them.

"Running," the man answered. "The higher-ups have spoken." The way he talked made it seem like they were fucking gods. "They want a punishment for your decisions of yesterday. It's not the first time you've pulled a stunt like this, and they've had enough of you."

He looked sorry for a second, but then he turned to the security guard as he walked away. "Fifty laps around the venue. Don't let her stop for too long."

The guard nodded in confirmation, and Y/N felt her mouth fall. "You're kidding."

Her manager just continued walking, so Y/N went on. "I'm not gonna run 50 laps, are you crazy?!"

He shrugged. "You're not leaving this venue without the 50 laps. Lee Yeon here will make sure of it."

She turned to look at the guard and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes unforgiving.

And so there Y/N was. Running around the venue alone, cold air crashing against her red cheeks while she ran.

After the fifteenth lap, she could have sworn her lungs were about to collapse. Her muscles ached and begged to stop. But all she could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.

One foot in front of the other.

One foot in front of the other.

Much like she did a week later as she walked up the stairs of SM Entertainment. She knocked but didn't really wait for permission to go inside the office.

She walked up to the director sitting at his desk and handed him the stack of papers she had arranged with her lawyer.

"I'm out. Sue me, do whatever you want—I'm leaving."

[okwonyo]

CONSOLE ME, 或 𓈒𓈒 taking care of them when they are sick.

⟡​⎯⎯⎯ 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾 𓈒𓈒

𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 1OOO fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship mention of sickness not proofread ⠀ ��｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀hi ! enjoy this, my loves >3<

rblgs♥︎fdbcks & C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG

would accept the special treatment without batting an eye. would just love when you are all worried over and doting on him— you would be able to see in his smile. 

would look at you as if you hang the stars and the moon while you bring your hand to his forehead to check his temperature. 

you would ask him to take his medicine, to lay down, to sleep and he would oblige with a giggle. his obvious adoration for you will make him listen to everything you tell him. 

JONGSEONG

would get a cold during a day you were supposed to go on a date and would swear he will be fine while he coughs his lungs out. 

would not even let you take care of him properly, saying something like ‘there is a difference between not being able to do something and not wanting to’ but he would cough so much that you would be a bit confused at that.

would end up falling asleep in your arms while still protesting. would snore softly against your neck while your fingertips leave soft touches on his nuke. 

JAEYUN

would be more clingy than he already tends to be ; would whine your name whenever you go out of the room with his running nose which would make you chuckle. 

would not even try to hide his joy when you feed him. would barely be able to swallow anything with his wide smile hurting his cheeks and his teeth showing off.

would rest his head on your lap, with the cold tissue on his forehead to get the fever down. staying calm and relaxing as you gently play with his fluffy brown hair. 

SUNGHOON

would get even more quiet than he tends to be, his voice would be raspy and barely above a whisper when he would try to speak after a chorus of coughs. 

would really appreciate it when you treat him like your little princess. would close his eyes and hum as you brush his delicate locks.

but, wouldn’t let you get anywhere without him. with his hand in yours as you go practically anywhere, would never leave your side. 

SEONWOO

would have a cute pink taint on the surface of his face, on his cheeks and on his forehead. his cheeks and nose would not be exceptions either, but there would mostly be there because of you.

a shy smile would appear on his pretty lips every time you do something for him, always, a small ‘thank you, you didn’t have to’ would escape from his mouth.

might shed a little tear when you bring him the soup you made for him, claiming that it is your mom’s recipe. would also want to kiss you, but wouldn’t want you to get sick. 

JUNGWON

would be burning hot and still feeling extremely cold, and despite how much you would tell him to stay still, would find a way to pull you in his embrace.

would not even let you give him medicine or any food, too stubborn to let you go and be taken off. would only accept if you promise a kiss after.

would apologize over and over after getting you sick as well in the following two days. because he is a sweetheart, would take care of your entire recovery.

RIKI

would get sick in the silliest way possible which would be : not being able to leave you alone for a second when you are sick and clinging to you during that time. 

his shyness would be all over his face when you would take care of him. would keep his head down as you scold him for not listening to you and catching your cold right from your mouth. 

however, he would repeat the same mistakes again. would seek comfort in your embrace, feeling healed by having the chance to be close to you in any way he can. ould follow you like a baby duck.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.

[dismalflo]

can i request a remus x insecure reader who feels like she isn’t enough to deserve their relationship?

hi darling, thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3

remus lupin x reader who thinks they should break up ✩ 1k words

cw: angst, tiny bit of fluff at the end, insecure/depressed reader

Something’s wrong. It’s in the way your shoulders sit high and tense, the restless shifting of your hands, the faint crease of worry etched between your brows. Remus notices how your eyes flit to him every so often, and each time, he pretends to read a book he hasn't turned a page of in minutes.

A quiet mix of concern and confusion stirs in his chest, just beginning to surface, when your voice slices through the silence—soft, fragile.

“I think we should break up.”

The world shifts. Everything around him narrows, shrinks, chills. You sink further into the cushions beside him, retreating inward, and Remus watches with wide, disbelieving eyes. His heart stumbles as he sets the unread book gently on the coffee table, his fingers trembling.

He swallows, throat thick. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Why… why would you say that?” The words scrape against his throat, shaky with disbelief. “What happened?”

You draw your knees closer, shoulders curling forward. You don’t meet his gaze, and the small movement of turning away feels like a knife to his chest. Remus leans in slightly, as though closing the space between you could keep whatever this is from slipping further out of reach. The pressure behind his eyes builds.

“I just…” Your voice falters, lip caught between your teeth. “I just think it’d be for the best.”

Remus reels, emotions crashing hard—hurt, confusion, but above all, fear. Fear that he’s already lost you without knowing it. A wall has risen between you, quiet and invisible, but now impossible to ignore. You’ve always had moments where you retreat, but this? This feels different. You look… hollow. Like something’s drained the light from you, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

In another moment, in another fight, maybe he’d reach out. Maybe you'd lean in, and this would all melt away. But now, his hands stay frozen in his lap. Instead, he fumbles for words.

“I don’t understand, dove,” he says finally, the nickname catching faintly in his throat. His voice is low, tender, uncertain. “Where’s this coming from?”

You don’t answer right away. Your fingers twist together in your lap. Then, so quiet he nearly misses it:

“Do you not get sick of me?”

His breath catches, sharp. For a moment, he’s not sure he heard you right. Your voice—so quiet, so broken—hits him harder than anything else could have.

"Sick of you?" He repeats, as if testing the words in his mouth, his mind struggling to comprehend. The confusion on his face deepens as he shifts closer. 

“No. I could never…” He trails off, struggling, voice fraying at the edges. “I don’t know what’s going on inside your head right now, but sick of you?” He shakes his head slowly. “That’s not something I could ever feel.”

You shake your head in return. The look in your eyes nearly undoes him.

“I just… I don’t think I’m a good partner,” you say, each word like a stone in your chest. “Not for someone like you. I feel like I’m holding you back—from someone who could give you everything you deserve.”

The breath leaves Remus’s lungs like a punch. Your words crack something deep in him, something tender and unguarded. He wants to reach for you, to insist you’re wrong, but he knows shouting down your pain won’t fix this.

So he chooses quiet.

“Do you expect me to be perfect?” he asks, voice low.

You look up fast, startled. “Wha– No!” you exclaim, eyes wide, cheeks damp.

Remus gives a soft, broken laugh — not unkind, just weary. “Then why would I expect that from you?” he murmurs.

He waits, watches the way that the question settles. Your lips part like you want to argue, to resist, but nothing comes. Your hands still in your lap. You look smaller somehow—like the weight you’ve been carrying has been pressing down for too long.

Remus leans in, just slightly, his voice still quiet, careful. “You think you're holding me back, but dove, that’s not– I love you. A lot. And I don't know what I’d do without you sometimes– most of the time.”

Your mouth opens, trembling, and for a second it looks like no words will come. But then they do, choked out through the beginning of proper tears that well and spill over before you can stop them.

“I don’t actually want to break up,” you confess, voice thick and warbling. “Not really.”

Remus's breath catches again, this time with something softer—relief, maybe, but wrapped tight in the ache of watching you crumble like this. Your apology slips out next, rushed and raw and muffled by your hands when you lift them to cover your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t know how else to say it. I didn’t know how to tell you how I’ve been feeling.”

But he’s already moving.

He doesn’t hesitate this time. His arms are around you in a heartbeat, gathering you in and pulling you close, like maybe if he holds you tight enough, the pieces of you will start to fit back together. You press your face into his chest, and the quiet, shuddering breaths you take against his shirt break his heart in a hundred new ways.

He presses his lips to the crown of your head, voice gentle and steady against the shake in yours. “You never have to apologize for feeling like this,” he murmurs. “Not with me.”

You cling to him, fingers curling into the fabric at his side, and he just holds you tighter.

“Anytime you need reminding,” he says softly, his words a promise, solid and warm, “I’ll tell you. I’ll remind you how much I love you. How much I want you. All of you.”

Your shoulders start to ease then, just a little. The worst of the storm passes in his arms, and he doesn’t let go.

[milfsloverblog]

HIIIIIII!1!1!1!1!

can i req something with Brienne where reader is like an important person in the hierarchy (like a queen or princess whatever you want 😭😭) and all her life she has been rejecting suitors because she’s been in love with Brienne since they were teenagers??

and just like a kind of angsty confession because y/n thinks the feelings aren’t mutual, some good old hurt/comfort :)

PLEASE AND THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR FICS SM AND I LOVE GWENDOLINE CHRISTIE SM

What We Never Said

Brienne of Tarth x fem!reader

A/N: Giggling and kicking my feet as I get asked to write angst 🤪 I hope you’ll like what I did with your request, enjoy!!

The grand halls of the castle had always felt too large, too empty, despite their opulence. Tonight, they felt suffocating. The whispers had grown into conversations, and the conversations into proclamations—You had finally accepted a suitor. The announcement was set to be made within the week.

Brienne had never known true fear until she overheard those words.

For years, she had watched as noblemen, lords, and princes from across the realm sought your hand. They came with wealth, with power, with whispered promises of alliance and prosperity. Each time, they were sent away, some with quiet refusals, others with barely concealed disgust.

"Too arrogant," you had said of Lord Redwyne. "Too cruel," of Prince Damon. "Too dull," of Ser Aldric.

Brienne had been there for every rejection, standing silently by your side, watching as your father’s patience wore thin, as your court whispered about your stubbornness. She had never dared to wonder why you refused them all—had never allowed herself to hope. But now, hearing that you had finally chosen someone, the reality crashed into her like a blow to the chest.

She had spent the past fortnight avoiding you, unable to face the weight of what she’d accidentally heard.

That night had started like any other. She had been making her way through the castle’s dim corridors, her mind preoccupied with the day’s duties, when she heard your voice. It wasn’t unusual—she had long since memorized the soft cadence of your speech—but something about your tone made her pause. She hovered just out of sight, heart hammering in her chest, as she realized you were speaking with your most trusted lady-in-waiting.

"I do not love him," you had said, voice quiet but steady. "I never have, nor any of the others."

There was a pause before your companion asked, "Then why, Princess? Why have you turned them all away?"

Brienne’s breath caught in her throat. She should have left. She should not have lingered in the shadows, listening to words never meant for her ears. And yet, she was rooted in place, as if the very foundations of the castle held her there.

"Because," you exhaled, a sound so weary it nearly broke her, "I have been in love with Brienne of Tarth since we were young. And she will never love me back."

Brienne felt as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. She gripped the cold stone wall beside her, steadying herself as your words echoed in her head. You loved her?

She barely heard the rest of the conversation over the roaring in her ears. Your lady-in-waiting murmured something about duty and the expectations placed upon you, and you had only laughed bitterly.

"It does not matter now. My father grows impatient, and I can only hold him off for so long. If I must marry another to quiet the rumours, then so be it. Brienne will never know."

Brienne staggered away from the corridor, her chest tight, her breath shallow. A sickness coiled in her stomach, shame mingling with longing. You had loved her for years. And she had been a coward. She had told herself that silence was protection, that swallowing her love was an act of duty. And in doing so, she had let you suffer alone.

And now you were to marry another.

She stormed through the dim corridors, her blood roaring in her ears, her fists clenched at her sides. The thought of you—her princess—standing at an altar beside some nobleman who had done nothing to earn your love, who would never deserve it, sent a fire through her veins.

She didn’t think. She didn’t plan. She only knew she had to find you.

When she reached your chambers, she barely registered the guards stationed outside. She was the sworn shield of your house, and they did not stop her as she pushed through the heavy doors and into your candle-lit room.

You stood near the window, your hands clasped before you, a ghost of yourself. You turned at her abrupt entrance, your lips parting slightly, surprise flickering in your eyes.

“Brienne?” Your voice was wary, but beneath it, there was something fragile, something tired.

She struggled for breath, her throat tight, her limbs trembling from the storm within her. She had rehearsed so many words in her mind over the years, ways to tell you she had loved you since she first understood what love was—but all that came out was raw, desperate.

“You’re to be married?”

You stiffened. A silence stretched between you, heavy with unsaid things. Finally, you lowered your gaze, your fingers twisting in the fabric of your gown.

“I had no choice,” you murmured. “My father—he’s grown tired of my refusals. And I—I had to move on, Brienne.” You inhaled sharply, as if trying to steady yourself. “You gave me no reason to hope.”

Brienne felt as if she’d been struck.

Her silence had been a weapon she had never meant to wield against you.

A ragged breath tore from her lips, and suddenly she was in front of you, closer than she had dared to stand in years. “You think I don’t love you?” she rasped, her voice shaking.

You looked up at her then, and in the flickering candlelight, she saw the cracks in the mask you had worn for so long. You swallowed, shaking your head slightly. “You’ve never given me any reason to think you did.”

Brienne’s restraint crumbled. “Gods, I’ve loved you since we were little more than children.” The words tumbled out, raw and unguarded. “I have loved you in every glance, in every breath, in every moment I have ever stood beside you.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. “Brienne—”

She shook her head, stepping back as if the weight of her confession had shattered something inside her. “I thought—I thought if I stayed silent, it would be enough. That I would rather endure my love in secret than risk losing you.” She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair. “And now I’ve lost you anyway.”

You stared at her, your body trembling. “You fool,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Do you know how many nights I spent dreaming of you? How many years I spent hoping—only to watch you act as if I was nothing but your duty?”

Brienne flinched. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“And yet you did.”

Silence stretched between you again, thick with pain, with wasted years, with love that had been buried for too long.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, you reached for her hand. “If you love me,” you whispered, “say it again.”

Brienne exhaled shakily, her fingers curling around yours. She stepped closer, until there was nothing between you but the grief of what had almost been lost. “I love you,” she breathed. “I have always loved you.”

A choked sob left your lips before you surged forward, wrapping your arms around her. Brienne caught you, holding you as if she could shield you from the very world itself. She felt your tears dampen her tunic, felt your heart hammering against hers, and she pressed her lips to your hair, murmuring, “Forgive me. Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your own eyes glistening. “Only if you promise to never let me go again.”

Brienne cupped your face in her hands, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Never,” she swore, before finally, finally, she kissed you.

And for the first time in years, the halls of the castle did not feel so empty.

————————————————————————

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[luveline]

Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling

thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k

Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 

Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 

You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 

Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 

"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 

"Then leave me alone," he says. 

Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 

He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 

You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 

The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 

You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 

You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 

From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 

"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 

You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 

You struggle to see him in the dark. 

"I should never have spoken to you like that." 

Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 

"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 

"I'm too tired," you mumble. 

Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 

You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 

"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 

"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 

You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 

"I love you," you say. 

"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 

"So don't be sorry." 

"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 

"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 

"I know," he utters. 

You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 

"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 

You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 

His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 

"I love you," he says into it. 

You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 

"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.

You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 

"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 

You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 

[charliemwrites]

Good morning. Chapter 8. 😈

(Okay I was a lil wrong. Not full smut, but some spice.)

CW for violence, threats, non-con groping. Reader has a “bad” time and Simon is a bastard. Stay safe while reading!

He doesn’t kill Brandon immediately. No, no that little sack of spare organs deserves a long, slow, thoughtful death. But he doesn’t need to be able to walk for that.

Besides, Simon has a little bunny to track down.

And when he picks up your trail, oh. Oh. You are in so much trouble.

Somehow, you managed to shimmy a window open just enough to squeeze through. Out into a goddamn blizzard. At the very least, he notices when he finds your tracks, you put some boots on.

Catching up to you is pitifully easy. Longer legs and more experience in extreme terrain like this - you’ve barely made it to the tree line before he snatches you up.

“No!” You shout. There’s something so fucking cute about it. The pitch, the indignance mixed with despair. His shoulder shake a bit as he hauls you over her shoulder. “No, Riley, put me down!”

“Name’s Simon, luv.”

“I don’t care!”

“You will.”

He carries you, kicking and squirming and shouting back towards the lodge. Only starts to lose patience when he loses his grip a bit and nearly drops you on a hard sheet of ice.

He growls, digs his fingers into your plush thigh. “If you don’t fucking behave, I will spank you raw right fucking here. With your face in the snow.”

You gasp. Pause. Then go limp, sniffling and crying as he carries you back inside. He dumps you gently in front of the fire on your stomach, pins you down with his boot in the center of your back when you instantly try to scramble away.

“Where did those good manners go, sunshine?” he teases.

“Fuck manners,” you cry, pressing your wet face into your arms.

“No, baby, see? Those good manners are why you’re still alive. So sweet, so nice.” He leans down, careful not too put too much pressure on your abdomen. “Too sweet and nice to die.”

You hitch with a quiet noise. “Why are you doing this? Another lesson?”

“Mm. Could make it another lesson, couldn’t I? But no, luv. This all just for you, because I want to.”

As if on cue, Brandon comes crawling into view whimpering and begging for you to help him. Simon, annoyed by the interruption, snaps at him to shut up.

“Speaking of what I want you to do…” He drops to his knees, straddling your ass. You jolt when you feel the unmistakable hardness pressed against it. Takes everything in him not to grind. “I want to peel this little prick’s skin of square by square.”

Both you and Brandon make frightened noises at that. Simon rolls his eyes and continues.

“I’d settle for letting him bleed out from the stomach or lighting him on fire if he apologizes though.”

“F-for what?” Brandon demands.

Simon buries his fingers in your snow-wet hair because if he doesn’t, he’s going to take this idiot apart piece by piece right in front of you. Seems like a bit much for a second date.

“To her, for being a fucking pervert.”

“I’m not the sick fuckin-“

“S-Simon, please,” you pipe up, voice quiet and wobbly. “D-don’t do this, don’t hurt him.”

He clicks his tongue. “Little late for that, eh?”

“Just… please. He’s suffered enough hasn’t he?”

He laughs. Can’t help it. You just don’t get it yet, do you?

“He touched you. He upset you.”

You swallow. “You’re upsetting me.”

“You’re mine.”

You suck in a breath and finally, finally seem to understand.

“Then…. Then just leave him be. F-for me?”

Simon sighs, but can’t help the fondness that flares in his chest. Such a smart, kind little thing.

“Tell you what, sunshine, I’ll make you a deal.”

He shuffles back a bit, captures both your little wrists with one hand. You don’t try to struggle, know better now. He could purr; such a fast learner too. He draws you up on your knees, leaning you back against his chest.

“If I win, he watches what I do to you and then dies nice and slow like he deserves,” he murmurs in your ear.

You tremble. “W-what are you gonna do to me?”

He grins wickedly, trailing cool blood-stained fingers beneath your shirt. “Nothin’ you’re not already gaggin’ for.”

You jerk a bit, that precious flame of defiance brightening. “I’m not-!”

“Then prove me wrong and take the bet.”

“W-wait what happens if I win?”

He snorts softly, nuzzles his mask into your cheek. Likes the way you shift uncomfortably.

“I’ll stop. Hell, you know what? I’ll turn myself in. Brandon gets to live and you go to therapy and I got to prison, yeah?”

You turn to him, eyes huge and mouth parted in shock. Hook, line, and fuckin’ sinker. Oh, sweet thing, you never stood a chance.

“Deal?” he asks.

You only hesitate for a beat, know that it’s off. Too good to be true.

“If you don’t take the deal, I’ll just continue with our regularly scheduled programming.”

“No!” you gasp. “I-I’ll take the deal. What… what’s the bet?”

“Well,” he purrs, tracing aimless patterns along your sensitive tummy. “Since you’re so sure that you’re not gaggin’ for my cock - you win if this pretty cunt isn’t drippin’ wet for me.”

And he sees it, the exact millisecond that you realize you’re going to lose this bet. You squeeze your eyes shut, a little sob escaping you.

Brandon makes a horrified noise on the other end of the carpet.

“You can’t be fucking serious?! You’re fucking-”

That’s quite enough of that. Simon can’t have you feeling ashamed of something that’s only natural.

“You say another fucking syllable and you’ll be eating your own eyeball.”

Your stomach hitches with disgust. He shushes and coos to you, “I know, I know. Gross nasty, hm? But I can’t have him speaking ill of you, sunshine.”

He tugs the mask up to the bridge of his nose, places a slow kiss against the corner of your jaw.

“Now, for our wager…”

You turn your face away as his hand trails down your abdomen, thumb sweeping over your navel. You shiver as he toys with the waistband of your pants, then finally slips his fingers inside, down….

“Oh, luv,” he moans.

You’re fucking soaked for him. Your panties alone are absolutely ruined. When he pulls them aside and strokes his fingertips through your slit, they come away gleaming. Your clit is swollen and hard, so sensitive that the gentlest brush makes you hiccup and twitch.

He stuffs the two fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of you from bloody skin. Fucking divine. He could cum in his pants from that alone.

“Mm, shame that,” he rasps in your ear. “Guess I win.”

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Masterlist

[osachiyo]

USING THE SAFEWORD - gojo , geto , toji , nanami

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ c/w. . . n/sft content (mdni), fem!reader, choking, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex, hurt + comfort, use of the safeword, oral (f + m receiving), reader is unable to use safeword in some of these, these men are so soft for you please don't be too mad at em :(

disclaimer ! safe words and boundaries are very crucial when having intercourse. never ever ever feel shy to use your safeword because it literally is there for your safety.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ note. . . I've been wanting to write something like this for a while <3 lmk if y'all want a bsd version next :D as always, happy reading and hope y'all enjoy !

Satoru

You felt dizzy─ so fucking dizzy as Satoru's fingers tightened around your neck. You tried to let him know by slapping his forearms, clawing at them─ doing anything to get him to loosen his grin but to your fear, he was too deep in the pleasure of your sweet cunt gave him. His free hand only pinned your hands above your head─ grumbling something about you to "keep still 'n let me fuck you right".

This was getting bad─ black spots started to appear in your vision, tears gathering in your lashline as you flailed and kicked your legs─ desperate to tell him you don't want this anymore. The continous thrusts of his hips made you sick to your stomach─ fuck, were you gonna pass out? fortunately for you, as if the heavens had heard your aching pleas, Satoru's grip loosened a tad─ just enough for you to gurgle out your safeword. It took satoru a full few seconds to register what flew out of your mouth─ quickly getting off of you, his still hardened cock pulling out of your cunt. His brows were pinched as a worried frown graced his shiny lips, "babe─"

That's when he realized the tears pouring out of your eyes weren't because of pleasure─ but pain. He reached a hand out to you but that only made you flinch away, your eyes widening in fear and for a split moment, he felt his heart stop. Fuck, what did he just do?

Satoru's own eyes were open wide, hands balling into tight fists as he watched you sniffle and shiver, small hiccups leaving your swollen lips. "Fuck I─ baby, I'm so sorry, I just─" he thought about what to say next─ that he lost control? That he never meant to hurt you? He swallowed hard, pretty eyes glossed over from worry and pure guilt.

You sniffled before laying on your back, lifting your arms to make grabby hands at satoru who only let out a breath of relief, gently cradling your face in his palms as he sputtered apologies after apologies to you─ hands shaky as he pulled you to his chest and muttered soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry's" into your hair, soft lips pressing gentle but reassuring kisses on the top of your head he holds you against his chest.

After a few moments, the snow haired man finally found it in himself to speak, "what happened, baby? Did I go too hard?" His voice was barely above a whisper. You nuzzled your face further into his chest─ tears smudging on his skin as you shook your head, "jus' couldn't breathe," you peaked up at him, and his frown deepened, heart clenching as he stared at your glassy eyes. " 'm so sorry, sweet girl— does it hurt?" He rubbed little shapes into the bare skin of your back, lips pressing gentle kisses on your temple. You finally smiled, shaking your head again— "no, jus' a little bit sore. Think there'll be marks though."

Satoru let out a breath of relief at that, shoulders burying his face into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. "That's good— don't want my pretty girl to be in pain." You hummed in response, staying like that for a while— basking in the comforting silence until you spoke up again.

"Toru?"

"Hm?"

"Let me choke you instead."

Suguru

You've been like this for god knows how long— spread across your shared bed, knees to your chest and with Suguru between your legs, making out with your cunt.

"Holy fuck— this pussy is so fuckin' perfect f'me, isn't she?" He growls— talking as if your pussy was a living being. You only moaned in response, trying to buck your hips up to meet his mouth, only to receive a harsh slap on your clit from Suguru. He 'tsked', running his clean hand through his raven locks before glaring at you, "stop—" smack! "movin'—" smack! "s'much—" smack! "whore—" smack! Each word was punctuated by a harsh slap to your pussy. You squealed with each hit— poor cunt burning from the brutal treatment your boyfriend was giving you.

He went back to using his tongue, but something was wrong— it didn't feel good anymore, only pain. Hours of overstimulation mixing with the pain of his harsh hits only made it sting and burn.

"Sugu! h-hurts— no more!" You babbled, but he couldn't hear you— too busy eating your pussy which basically had him in a trance, leaving you with no choice but to whimper out your safeword.

It took him a couple of seconds to register before he paused— blinking up at you before apologies after apologies left his mouth, checking to see if you were hurt anywhere before you calmed him down by placing a hand on his chest, " 'm not hurt, Sugu— jus'.. too much," you panted, letting him pick you up and place you on his lap— " 'm so sorry, princess. Didn't mean too go too far," there was genuine regret in his voice, the bottom half of his face still soaked with your juices. You reached a palm to wipe off the liquid from his chin before grinning up at him— he only kissed your cheek in return.

"You forgive me?" He pulled away to look at you, a small pout adorning his thin lips. You only kissed his nose in response, earning a chuckle from him, "I'll take that as a yes then."

You two stayed like that for a couple minutes— just in each other's arms as Suguru started humming a random song, the gentle tone of his soothing voice slowly lulled you to sleep, not before you heard a faint, "I love you so much, angel," accompanied by a soft kiss on your shoulder.

Toji

"Oh, fuuck— yeah, fuckin' slut— takin' me s'well in that tight lil' throat, heh," Toji growled, hips bucking up into your face as you gagged and choked around his unbelievably fat cock. Tears and snot were dripping down your face— ruining the picture perfect makeup you had worked so hard for, mascara running down your swollen cheeks in inky streaks, lipstick smudged all over your lips and even staining your boyfriend's length in rings.

Seriously, though. Did you really expect him to be gentle with you after prancing around in that tiny little dress the whole evening? You should be grateful he didn't bend you over the dinner table and fuck you in front of your friends and co-workers.

He basically shoved you down to your knees once you arrived back home— slapping the leaky tip of his flushed cock against your face a couple times before stuffing it into your poor throat and here you were— getting used by Toji Fushiguro like his personal flleshlight as you went light headed from being deprived of breathing for so long. It seems as if he had forgotten you were human and needed to breathe— the tightness of your throat basically making his mind go blank.

You tried to scratch, claw and slap his thighs— which only made him fuck your face with more vigor, not realizing those were signs telling him to stop.

A sloppy mixture of your drool and his precum dripped down your chin in stringy webs, making a mess on the polished floor beneath you as he yanked you by the makeshift ponytail he made— pulling you off his cock with a wet "pop!", giving you the chance to gurgle out your safeword breathlessly. Toji's eyes visibly widened, slowly letting your hair go before kneeling in front of you, gently patting your back as you coughed and heaved— trying to get air back in your poor lungs.

"Too much?" His voice was gravelly, as he wiped the sweat off your face, helping you back up to your feet. You could only nod in response, his brows pinching as tears kept rolling down your face. Gently sitting you down on the couch before he walked away to get you some water.

You immediately relaxed feeling the cool water hit your throat, soothing the bruising throb of pain your boyfriend's cock had given you.

He placed the glass away before sitting next to you, wordlessly wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you to his lap.

"Sorry I went too far, ma', wan' me to make it up to ya?" He whispered into the softness of your hair, gigantic hands playing with your much smaller ones as you leaned into him.

"Mhm, can you or—" "Order Chinese? Got'cha," he cut you off, pulling his phone out from his pocket. You smiled, snuggling further into him, "and cuddles." Rolling his eyes, he hummed, "Anything my princess wants."

Kento

"Slap!"

The deafening noise cut through the heavy tension in the room, your ass burning from the sting of Kento's harsh palm cracking down on the soft fat— "t-twenty f-four!"

He hummed, voice deep as his rough palm smoothed over the battered skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks to peak at your sopping cunt— the vibrator set on it's highest setting, but he knew better than to let you cum. Right as you were about to release all over the sheets— the vibrations of the small pink toy suddenly stopped, cruelly ripping your orgasm away from your grasp. A pitiful sob left your lips, legs thrashing around— "no! W-why, please— p-please let me cum, Ken—" Another brutal slap to your bruised ass cut you off, a low growl leaving Kento's lips as he smacked you again and again— your wails egging him on further— "fucking count."

The safeword left your lips before you could even think— hiccups and sobs escaping your throat. Your husband stopped immediately upon hearing the magic word— snapping out of his daze and rushing to your side. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?" His voice was laced with worry, his heart ached in regret as he watched you sniffle, curling to yourself.

"Fuck, love— I'm so sorry I—" He quickly undid your restraints and took the vibrator out of you, tossing it aside before grabbing a glass of water and handing it to you. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Does it hurt too much?"

You shook your head, to his relief, and took the glass of water from him— muttering a small "thanks."

After you had fully calmed down, he also applied some ointment on your sore bottom, being as gentle as possible not to hurt you.

He also ate you out later— to make up for all the edging, Small apologies were leaving his lips the entire time as he made out with your cunt— calling you his good girl, placing a gentle kiss on your clit after you reached your peak.

note. im sorry if this sucks ass ya'll, i had this sitting in my drafts for a while and just had to get it out :(

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡