#but it turned out to be a way to make steady money to support his grandpa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugoroo · 2 months ago

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TRADING CARDS!

ʚɞ summary: toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?

warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.2k

"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."

you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"

toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."

he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.

toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.

it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.

and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.

college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.

but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.

and that's when you have an idea.

it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.

it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.

and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.

the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.

you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.

but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.

"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."

"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.

he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"

you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."

he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."

you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."

toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.

"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."

this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"

you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?

"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."

toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."

"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."

the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.

you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.

just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.

"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"

toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."

your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"

he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."

you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.

"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."

your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.

"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."

"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."

he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"

"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."

toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."

you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.

he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."

"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.

before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.

"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.

you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."

toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"

"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."

he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."

you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"

toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."

you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.

it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.

he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.

you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?

"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."

toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"

"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.

he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.

you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.

toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."

"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.

"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.

a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.

he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.

"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.

toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.

he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.

while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.

"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.

he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?

your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.

toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."

you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.

he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.

"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.

"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."

his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.

toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.

when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.

"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.

"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"

it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."

toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."

you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.

he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."

you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."

he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."

before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.

"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"

you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."

he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."

you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."

he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.

"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."

you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.

"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.

you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."

toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"

you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.

if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.

he's going to take his sweet time with you.

toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.

"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."

you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."

fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."

"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."

toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.

"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."

you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?

he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.

it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.

"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.

he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.

but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.

you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.

"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.

in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.

"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.

"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.

"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"

you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.

"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.

when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.

"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."

while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.

"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."

god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.

you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.

"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.

your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."

you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.

"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.

toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.

it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.

"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."

it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.

your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.

"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.

you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.

while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.

it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.

toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.

"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"

he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"

your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.

your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?

toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"

you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.

but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.

"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"

he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."

"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.

this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."

"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.

"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."

your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.

"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.

he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.

"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."

he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.

but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.

"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."

you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.

toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.

you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."

"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."

"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."

he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.

"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.

you're officially no longer a virgin.

"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.

the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.

"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."

you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.

"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.

"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.

"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."

toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.

this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.

you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.

"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."

he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.

"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.

looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.

"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"

"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.

"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.

your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."

"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.

"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.

"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."

it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.

as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.

and he's not about take that risk.

toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.

he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.

then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.

"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."

i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

#★sugoroo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #anime smut #smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader smut

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won4kiss · 17 days ago

Text

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.

୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.

୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.

୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.

୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.

୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K

𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.

NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^

THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.

fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.

the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.

for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.

financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.

here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.

with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.

you checked the reading—steady, for now.

relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.

“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.

you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.

he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.

sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.

“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”

“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.

sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.

still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.

he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.

it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.

you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.

ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.

finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.

sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.

“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”

“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”

“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”

he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.

after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.

as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.

you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.

no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.

in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.

you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.

“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”

“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.

“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”

“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.

he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”

there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.

you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.

you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.

“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”

you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”

a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.

you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.

you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.

but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.

the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.

by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.

but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.

the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.

you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.

the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.

you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.

when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”

the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.

“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”

you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.

the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”

your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.

you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.

in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“here, i’ve got it.”

you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.

he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.

“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”

he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.

the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.

you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.

the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.

sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.

but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.

“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.

as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.

sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.

his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.

“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.

you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.

“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”

the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.

“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.

sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.

for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.

but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.

“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”

the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.

you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.

“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”

his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.

the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.

you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.

as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.

maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.

you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.

he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.

“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”

you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”

for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.

it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.

sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.

a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.

the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.

you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.

for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.

he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”

the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.

he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.

“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.

you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.

there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.

the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.

where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.

you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.

sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.

and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.

one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.

you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:

“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”

a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.

you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.

the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.

later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”

he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.

“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”

“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.

sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.

you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.

one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.

your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.

opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.

“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”

surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.

you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.

he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.

for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.

all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.

when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.

a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.

the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.

snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.

“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”

“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.

you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.

sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.

“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.

“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.

you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.

as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.

you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.

for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.

sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.

you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.

sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”

he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.

when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.

as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.

the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.

sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.

“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”

he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”

the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.

for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.

and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.

the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.

the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.

coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.

“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.

your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”

the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.

engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?

somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.

but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.

you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.

the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.

and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.

you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.

but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.

the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.

you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.

you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.

you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.

he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.

it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.

you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.

when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.

he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.

he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.

you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.

but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.

at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.

a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”

the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.

you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.

the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.

your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.

for a moment, everything else faded away.

the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.

it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.

sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.

he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.

a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.

and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.

when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.

moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.

he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.

you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.

as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.

“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”

a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.

the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.

you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.

“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”

a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.

sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.

“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”

his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.

your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.

sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”

the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.

your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.

but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.

you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.

“y/n! wait!”

you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.

he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”

he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”

you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”

his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.

but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.

“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”

for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.

and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.

the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.

you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.

your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.

you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.

you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.

his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.

the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.

when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.

he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.

“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.

“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”

you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.

and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.

“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”

his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”

for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.

every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.

what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.

“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”

a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.

he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.

you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.

“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”

you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.

“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.

“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”

a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.

“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.

he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.

the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.

the weeks that followed felt like a dream.

for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.

sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.

with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.

when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.

the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.

he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”

you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”

he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.

“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”

you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.

on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.

you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.

it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.

“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”

your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.

he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.

“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”

as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.

the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.

and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.

because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.

the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.

you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.

the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.

as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.

sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.

and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—

you were finally home.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @sol3chu @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @moon368 @senascoooop @suneng @onlyjjong @blockbusterhee @wensurr @wiccangirl29 @vousmevoxes @heeswif3y @getoxo @50-husbands @wildtigerlili @letwiiparkjay @loves0ft @yuriknows : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

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doveywovy · 3 months ago

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au in which shen yuan got transmigrated as a kid, a few years before binghe's on the peak, and shen jiu sees this little guy who looks exactly like him, sharing a name with him, digging a hole desperate to get in- and is filled with incandescent rage.

just like with binghe, for shen jiu seeing a parallel of himself at his weakest makes him furious. he wants to smoosh this creature like a bug. he resolves to do the mature thing and ignore it and hope it will die of starvation when it fails to get into a sect; but then the worst imaginable thing happens.

Yue qingyuan tries to save it. Unacceptable. Yue qingyuan abandoned him as a child, and is now trying to rescue this creature? What's so special about Shen Yuan that he's earned the rescue Shen Jiu never received himself? What's so good about it? Shen Jiu can already tell that Yue Qingyuan will spoil it rotten on his peak, give him exactly the life of safety and support that Shen Jiu always secretly wanted and never got. So he claims the beast first.

In five years, when Lou Binghe arrives on the peak and is begrudingly accepted as Ning Yingying's newest shidi, Shen Jiu barely pays him any mind. He already has a little beast that he despises and takes out his frustrations on. Binghe's similarities to himself (And his perceived blessings that young Shen Jiu never got) pale in comparison to Shen Yuan's, and thus go entirely unnoticed.

Shen Yuan feels- complex, about it, because truthfully he's been holding out hope for Binghe to save him. If not in a protagonist's manner, then in the age-old method of a bully choosing a new target. instead...nothing changes.

Binghe doesn't interfere. He's a scared child who's just secure the better future he promised his mother he'd aim for before she died. He's got steady access to food and shelter, and he doesn't want to risk that. Shen Yuan can't blame him. But ah, as the years pass.... Binghe starts to rise in the peak. Without Jiu targeting him, his natural talents allow him many successes. More important, his skill at manipulation develops at a younger age- he knows how to win over his peers, how to appeal to the peak lord. He quickly becomes head disciple, respected and somewhat trusted.

He still doesn't save Shen Yuan. It's not that he joins in bullying him; that would be too OOC! Even Yuan would protest if something like that occurred! But he turns a blind eye to it all. When the other disciples steal his food, Binghe doesn't ensure he gets to eat. When the other disciples run him out to the woodshed, Binghe never demands they give him back his bed. He doesn't even bring Shen Yuan a blanket. To Binghe, it's like Shen Yuan doesn't exist at all. It's the only way Binghe can feel secure that it won't be him in such a position if he speaks up.

It's hard for Shen Yuan to not get a little resentful. Not just because- because of all his hopes he'd pinned, maybe, on the protagonist he'd admired so much saving him. Not just because it feels like he's taken on Binghe's suffering for him and an unwitting Binghe is ungrateful. (he knows this is a foolish thing to think, but it's how he feels regardless.) Not even just because Binghe is *head disciple* and that makes it literally his job to fix this sort of thing. But specifically, because if Binghe was the one suffering, there's a guarantee that at the end of this it would end. He'd get out from under Shen Qinqqiu's thumb and he'd go on to get his revenge and become a powerful and respected cultivator, and have lots of wives and lots of money and lots of food and a safe place to sleep... Shen Yuan is background fodder. He'll never amount to anything.

But he doesn't hate Binghe. He could never! He knows, deep down, that Binghe's just scared and he's adapted to survive this way and besides, Binghe is still really really cool. Shen Yuan likes getting to see how cool Binghe is up close, with his growth so unhampered. Binghe is amazing at fight, so clever in classes, an excellent musician already, a detective as clever as sherlock holmes on missions, a warrior without equal on monsterhunts. When he gets to see Binghe in action, as opposed to Binghe on the peak failing to save him- he can forgive anything, really.

Eventually Shen Yuan decides he's got to get out. He'll do the conference, try really hard, and see if he can transfer to another sect. Probably not, because his skills are awful; but even so he'll leave and become a rogue cultivator. It'll be hard, and he might starve, but anything is better than staying on the peak forever.

He assumed that Binghe, with all this unhindered skills-leveling, wouldn't get caught as a half-demon. Or that if he was, perhaps his relationship was close enough with the peak lord that it would spare him his fate from the novel. Instead- instead he sees exactly how it plays out. Binghe's control slips at the edge of the abyss, and the truth is revealed to the small group of disciples he was protecting (including shen yuan, for once!) and to a furious Shen Qingqiu.

The Peak Lord forced his head disciple to the edge of the cliff and goes to stab him through the heart.

Shen Yuan does something he'll regret, entirely on instinct: He tries to interfere. He tries to call out and save him. isn't this your respected head disciple? isn't binghe only here because he was trying to protect the disciples in his care?

It's pointless. Binghe still falls into the abyss. But it leaves shen yuan behind- already hated, already mistrusted, and now he's just defended a demonic spy who'd been hidden in their sect. His chances of living to see Binghe claw his way back out of the abyss are extremely low- at best, he'll see it through the bars of a cell at the water prison.

-------

au discussed with @slurmdog :)

#shen yuan #bingyuan #not sure how we GET to the bingyuan but im open to suggestions #svsss

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fuctacles · 2 months ago

Text

Remember late bloomers ?

Love popping into my wips and finding finished stuff I should have posted ages ago

Jeff gently informs him that getting running gear for the first date is a bit of an overkill.

“There is so much wrong with that idea. First of all, you hate running. Exercising, in general. And second, this is kinda pathetic.”

Eddie gasps.

“How dare you!”

“Dude, you just officially met today. Why would you waste money on something you might use once and then never again?”

Jeff was, of course, none the wiser that Eddie was about to enter his fit era. He’s going to jog every morning from now on, he’ll get cute matching sets with Miss Stephanie, drink smoothies, and get a gym pass. He’s going to turn his life around, lose the tummy fat he’s been harboring all winter, and turn it into a sixpack. Their fans are going to love it. Stephanie, too. They’ll run off into the sunset—or sunrise—together, they’ll make and raise the healthiest little babies—

“Are you planning your wedding or something?” Jeff interrupts his daydreams with a scoff.

Eddie bristles.

“I’ll be planning your funeral if you don’t start supporting your perpetually single friend,” he bites back.

Jeff raises his eyebrows.

“You sure that’s what you should be saying to the only friend who can lend you some jogging clothes?”

“Uh…”

“Thought so.” And Eddie hates his satisfied smirk but he’s desperate so he bites his tongue. “So, what you really need are good running shoes…”

He feels all kinds of stupid in his sporty get-up. He’s wearing his old Reeboks he wears only when his shitkickers are in repair (he will wear them to his grave), Jeff’s tracksuit pants, and his lucky Ozzy t-shirt. He woke up extra early today and his mug of coffee was almost empty by the point she, Stephanie, rounded the corner.

His mind goes blank when he recognizes his hoodie.

Maybe he hasn't woken up yet. What other explanation was there for this beautiful creature, backlit by the rising sun, to be walking up to him, decked in bright-colored leggings, and tank top and his hoodie, clashing unforgivingly with its blackness? How else would he get a date with her if it wasn't a dream?

"You're actually dressed for running," she observes. No 'hello', no 'good morning', just her eyes roaming over his body from above. He quickly jumps up from the porch steps.

"Yeah! Lemme just..." He motions to the door with the mug, then quickly gulps down the last mouthful. "Want some water?" he asks, hand on the door.

Stephanie's eyes snap up to his face.

"Yes."

It's weird, the way she says it, the way her eyes wander over his body. There's no way he's looking that good in borrowed sweats. They have some ugly gym logo on the side too.

"I don't really own gym clothes, but my friend was nice enough to share his," he explains, letting her in. She hums absentmindedly and follows him into the kitchen. He puts the mug in the sink and grabs a glass to fill it with freshly filtered water. When he turns around she's right there, now without the hoodie which she hung over on one of the chairs. Her tits are right there, but he holds her gaze, like a gentleman.

"Thanks." She takes the glass from him and takes a tiny sip, not breaking eye contact. Then puts it aside, on the counter behind him. "What's your stance on making out on the first date?"

Eddie's brain starts screaming.

"Not opposed to it," he answers and is immensely proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"Great," she says, almost relieved, as if he could give any other answer than an enthusiastic "ravish me, lady," and gently grabs his face, thumbs rubbing on the stubble along his jaw. She gives him a second to back away before leaning in.

She kisses his lips, just a little peck, a gentle caress. Dives in for another, and one more. Eddie reaches up to run his hands from her elbows up to her shoulders and feels little tremors running through her body. He frowns.

"Steph...?"

She groans instead of answering and her little kisses turn to kitten licks. When he parts his mouth for her, she licks across it, tongue pulling on his upper lip. He yelps in a pleasant surprise.

"I come here with innocent intentions," she says, her voice a bit strained, dipping into lower registers. "And you sit here, with your scrawny little ass in gym sweats." She lets go of his face so her hands can squeeze his waist minutely, before hauling him up onto the counter behind him. He squeaks, less dignified than the sounds he made before, holding onto her. Stephanie presses in and he opens his legs for her without hesitation. "And your dirty old sneakers, ready to jog with me. Eager like a puppy."

Eddie whines at the comparison.

"I'm not," he protests. He's just an adult man confronted with a beautiful woman out of his league.

"You're not?" she asks condescendingly against his ear. She's been rubbing her cheek against his stubble, nosing along the bones like she's the dog, trying to rub her scent all over him. Now she leans back to pout at him. Her lips are plush and pink and they haven't been kissed enough yet. "But I like strays."

Eddie's brain short-circuits.

"Uh... bark?"

She laughs and grips his thighs before capturing his mouth. She dominates the kiss without struggle and Eddie lets her use his mouth to her heart's content. He just wraps his arms around her neck and takes it, moves his tongue where she guides him. He can feel her hands on his thigh itching to touch more, but he doesn't want to part long enough to let her know she can, that she can take whatever she wants.

Eventually, she slides her hands up, thumbs digging into the crease of his thighs, and he mewls. His face immediately goes red at the sound that just left him.

"Well, that's something I'm not gonna un-hear."

Stephanie freezes and moves to pull away, but he traps her with his legs around her waist and presses his face against her shoulder, to hide his shame. Of course this is when Jeff decided to get up and walk into the kitchen.

"Uh, I'm sorry? And, good morning," Stephanie offers, seeing as her actual host won't be of any help. He makes a little wounded sound against her shoulder and she swats his thigh.

"Good morning," Jeff offers back. "Stephanie, right?"

"Yeah."

"Jeff. I live here too, unfortunately. I was under the impression you were going out for a run, though?" He raises his eyebrows. "Did I lend him my exclusive membership sweats for nothing?"

"They're yours? Can we keep them?" she asks immediately. Eddie presses his nails into her skin not to make a sound at how she said 'we'. "He almost has an ass in them."

"Hey!" It's the first thing he says since Jeff walked in and the first time he moves away from the safety of Stevie-shield. Thankfully, his friend looks mostly amused, not angry or disgusted.

"Please," he makes a face. "I don't want them anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eddie's eyes narrow, the familiar back and forth giving him enough courage to release Stephanie from the clutch of his legs. She doesn't move far, just enough so the three of them can look at each other and chat comfortably. Well, considering the situation.

"I just saw you dry humping in them and you dare ask me?" Jeff scoffs.

The two culprits start protesting over each other with "We weren't dry humping!" and "We were just kissing?!" but he stops them, raising both his hands.

"I don't care! Just take them and leave the kitchen! I need some caffeine before work and the only bodily fluid I want in it comes from cow tits."

"Ew, dude," Eddie groans, but Stephanie lets out a surprised snort.

"We're leaving!" she promises, pulling Eddie down from the counter. He scrambles to find balance but she grabs his hand to steady him. Despite them just making out, that's what makes his heart skip a beat. "it was nice to meet you, Jeff!" she offers, waving on her way out of the kitchen.

"Likewise. Good luck on your run!" he calls after them.

"Thanks!"

Through the windows, he can still see them, Stephanie fixing Eddie's rumpled t-shirt while he's staring up at her with the dumbest expression he's ever seen. And he's seen a lot of them from his friend.

"Good for him," he mutters to himself with a fond smile.

#stevie harrington #steddie #t4t steddie #transfeminine steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #mine #steddie fanfiction #stevierything #transmasc eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #jeff stranger things

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runningfrom2am · 10 months ago

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cold nights // part twelve

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i can't believe we made it to the end of s1! i am so, so excited to move on to the next era of this story! this is a reminder if you love this series and you haven't already please reblog this or the masterlist! it makes such a big big difference for me and my fellow writers know it all too well lol.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coriolanus wakes up, head on the open pages of Romeo and Juliet as people start to flood in, everyone anxious about what would happen to you.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, quickly casting his view to the screen ahead, camera view still locked on you. There was no one else for it to be tracking, after all. Except now, you were on Lamina's beam, lying down with your eyes closed. He wasn't sure if you were awake, or when you had even made your way down into the clearing, but you don't move. He can see the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lay with his scarf bunched up behind your head. Tigris was right, you had survived, but you wouldn't have without him. You looked peaceful- not at all like the girl he had seen crumbling apart on the same screen just a few hours prior.

"I feel as though I should inform you, they'll be going in very soon." Highbottom says, grabbing the boy's attention. "But I'd put my money on those boys being dead in there. Congratulations, Coriolanus. This means almost nothing for you."

He walks away before Coryo is even done processing what he had said. He wouldn't get the prize, most likely, but he would still have you.

You don't stir until you hear the peacekeepers entering the arena, sitting up and seeing them with guns pointed in your direction. "Don't move." One of them spits at you and you nod, eyes wide as you raise your hands. You watch as a designated team in different uniforms make their way up to enter the vents, and others spray something over the piles of snakes, stilling those that were still showing any signs of life.

"Is it over?" You ask, confused.

"Not until we can confirm you are the only remaining tribute." One of them answers and you nod, chewing on your lip as you watch the men disappear into the vents.

"Okay... Thank you."

You know what they would find in there, the bodies of the two boys trapped behind your salt line. You could tell them where the boys would be found, but then you'd be outing yourself. You had only confessed to Coryo. Only he could know. Last night, you didn't care. You have to assume he was the only one who witnessed your breakdown, your confession, because if anyone else had, you'd likely be dead by now. You have to hope your secret is safe with him if you want to go home.

The morning drags on forever as you sit there with guns pointed at you from the ground, and Coryo is pacing in the hall. There were many people around, excited to see if you would be crowned as the victor. People were rooting for you, and he was proud of that, but support didn't mean that you were promised a win.

Vipsania and Domitia were the only other two remaining mentors, whispering to each other across the room after they came back. It was eerily silent.

Then, one of the men emerges from the vent, turning all heads including yours as he just nods toward the peacekeepers watching you.

"Alright. Come on down." The same peacekeeper addresses you and you nod, a tear falling down your cheek.

"She did it." Coryo whispers to himself, realization forcing a grin onto his face.

Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "She's won! Y/N Y/L/N from District Twelve!" He calls out, making his way over to Coriolanus. "Coriolanus Snow is the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games!"

Coryo laughs in shock, smiling as the man pats his shoulder. He catches in the corner of his eye as his two classmates storm out, and he's quickly crowded with congratulations and praise.

"I won?" You ask quietly, feet landing on the ground again.

"Yes, they were found." He nods, and quickly your arms are being grabbed as you're led out of the arena.

"Do you know, did Coriolanus get his prize?" You ask them, but your question is ignored as you walk down the hall toward the exit, looking back over your shoulder as the gate is closed behind you.

Just outside the gates, you don't get much of a taste of freedom before you're being pushed into the back of the same truck. Empty. Bigger. Lonely.

"Empty your pockets." The peacekeeper tells you, standing at the entrance.

You do so hesitantly, holding up the compact on a shaky palm. "I'm sorry to ask, but can I have some water? Please?" You ask, once again ignored as the compact is pulled from your hand. "Please, sir, that was a gift... If you must take it can you return it to my mentor? Coriolanus Snow?"

He opens the cold metal, pulling out the piece of paper and unfolds it, quickly scanning it's contents. "That is for him, too. Though, if I had the chance now I would change it." You explain. You knew you both would be in deep trouble if you were caught for what you convinced yourself was no more than salt, and clarity came to you enough to lie about what the compact had contained all this time.

The peacekeeper hums, closing it up again and shoving both items into his own pocket, pointing the gun at you again. "Clothes off."

"Ex-excuse me?" You reply, taken aback by the request.

"Clothes off. Now." He repeats and you nod, swallowing the lump in your dry throat as you begin to slide off your dress, letting it fall at your feet. He moves the gun again, gesturing for you to continue. With trembling hands you remove your underthings, your shoes, and the scarf, placing them on the floor in front of you. He quickly gathers them, taking a step back and nodding to someone outside.

He moves out of the way and you stand there confused, watching as he shakes out your clothes and searches them, when suddenly you're being sprayed down with a hose. You yelp from the fast contact of the cold water pelting against your skin, but it wakes you up. After the initial shock, it actually feels good to be somewhat clean again.

You pant as the water is shut off, catching your breath and rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself again. Your clothes are tossed back into the truck at you before the door is slammed, and you use the scarf to try and dry yourself off a little bit before tying it around yourself the same way Coryo had. By the time you pull the second strap of your dress back on, the truck is moving and you're lurching forward.

You're driving for a while before the door is opened again, and you're relieved to get some fresh air. It was cold in there, and you were shivering in your small dress that was now also damp from your skin.

Once the doors open you're staring down the barrels of more guns as the peacekeepers usher you out and into the train station, right where you were let off all those days ago. Days... or weeks? You don't even know anymore.

"Lay off, why don't you? She's been through enough." A man in a black suit comes into your view, and they drop their weapons and let you go.

He steps in front of you and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and warm up. "Thank you, Sir." You smile, nodding at him politely.

"Nothing to thank me for..." He sighs. "I'm Dean Highbottom from the academy, it's a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your victory." Surprisingly to you, he doesn't seem inconvenienced. Someone other than Coryo and Sejanus seemed to be willing to talk to you, to treat you like a human again. When he congratulates you, he sounds sad.

"Thank you, Sir." You nod again. "Do I... Will I be going home now?"

"Yes. In just a few minutes." He nods, gesturing for you to follow him toward the train. "I am extremely familiar with your mentor, Coriolanus Snow." He tells you as you join his side.

"Oh, wonderful!" You force a smile. "I have some things for him, just a note and something he leant to me. I gave them to that man over there. Would you mind making sure they make it back to him?" You point out the peacekeeper as you follow him toward the train.

"I'll see to it that he gets it back, yes." Dean Highbottom nods with a slight roll of his eyes, stopping next to the stairs that would lead you onto the passenger train. "But... if I may offer you some advice?"

"Please." You nod, urging him on.

"Be grateful you survived him."

You want to ask what he means, but the anger you saw behind your friend's eyes that night in the arena would haunt you and you knew that. Surely, that's what the Dean is talking about.

"Yes." You agree, unsure what else to say when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stack of cash.

"Take this, your prize, I suppose." He hands it over to you. It must be hundreds of dollars. Maybe over a thousand. With this, you could do so much for your family. "Oh, and Miss Y/L/N... You wouldn't happen to know anything about the rat poison that was in that compact, would you?"

You tense up, tilting your head at him with a confused smile. "Poison? No... All I had put inside was salt." You reply. "Sejanus Plinth gave it to me, with food from his Ma. Salt is good for protection, you know, so I kept it for later. Keeps you safe from evil and harm." You ramble on, panic and shock in your tone. Sejanus had given you salt to put on some vegetables and sandwiches he brought you, but now that you're trying to piece the story together, you don't remember even opening the compact until you were in that vent. Coryo had told you not to open it, so you wouldn't have. Your own memory is confusing you.

"I've heard that." He nods, eyeing you skeptically.

The train horn makes you jump before you can even thank him.

"Go on, now." He urges you onto the train, deciding to let slide however you had came across the rat poison. Clearly, you didn't know what you had done. Or you were convincing yourself you didn't remember. "Enjoy your freedom."

You nod and step up onto the stairs. You were hoping you would get to see Coryo again, it disappointed you that you never would. Maybe it was a good thing you wrote your goodbye note, even if you had survived. "I give you, upon my knees, a thousand thanks." You smile to the man still standing on the ground below you who just nods in acknowledgment before you close the door behind yourself, Coryo's scarf still wrapped around your waist.

"Y/N?" Coryo calls out, walking into the high biology lab. He was told you had something for him, no doubt the scarf and the compact.

"She's gone." Dean Highbottom cuts in, just before Coryo spots him in the poorly lit room.

"I was told-"

"I know what you were told. Here." The Dean tells him, pointing to the metal compact on the table.

Coryo looks at it only briefly before returning his gaze to the man who offered it to him. "Where is she?"

"I wouldn't worry about that, Coriolanus. Your work is done." He explains vaguely. "Were you aware that she cheated?"

"Cheated?" Coryo asks. "How?" He feigns ignorance.

"The boys in the vents didn't die from snake venom, or violently, or, naturally- for that matter." The Dean tsk's. "It was rat poison. Which, before you argue with me, cannot be found inside the arena or even within reach of the monkey cage at the zoo. I checked. So be honest, you have no idea how she got her hands on such a substance?"

"No, I don't." Coryo lies. "But she did what she could to survive- don't take it out on her because she somehow cheated your games. Next year give them uniforms, or up security or something."

"Just thought I'd ask. She told me she got it from Plinth." He waves him off, and Coryo ticks his head in slight confusion.

"Sejanus? No, he-"

"She really... declined, in there." Highbottom cuts him off, making it evident that he at least believed that Sejanus wouldn't do such a thing. "Told me it was only salt. Genuinely, it seemed like she didn't know. Or, she forced herself to forget. A sweet girl like that, it doesn't surprise me that that's how she would rationalize her actions."

"Is she alive? Because if you killed her for that I-"

"You'll what, Mister Snow? I thought you said you just wanted the prize."

"She deserved better." He states simply, swallowing the anxiety building in his throat.

"She does. I agree." Highbottom nods. "Which is why you won't see her again."

Coryo furrows his brow. "I... I don't understand how that could be relevant."

"Oh, I know you do, Mister Snow." His superior replies, a condescending edge to his words.

Coryo snatches the compact off of the table and quickly pockets it, storming out of the room. At least he hadn't been caught for helping you cheat, though he was sure Highbottom knew better. Now, he didn't have the Plinth Prize, and he didn't have you.

When he finally got home, he couldn't help but slam the door behind himself.

"Coryo?" Tigris calls out, excited as she puts down the project she was working on and rushes to the entranceway to meet him. "I didn't expect you home so soon! Did you get to see Y/N?" Her smile fades when she sees his expression. "What's wrong?"

"They wouldn't let me see her. She's already gone." He explains, pulling off his blazer.

"Oh..." Tigris frowns, taking the blazer from him to hang it up. "I know you really wanted to say goodbye. I'm so sorry."

"She'll never forgive me." He shakes his head slightly. "If she's even still alive! I doubt they would tell me!" He laughs, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes with his palms.

"They wouldn't kill her, Coryo. People loved her too much." She is quickly reassuring, reaching out to rub his shoulders. "You did nothing wrong... You did all you could for her. She'll forgive you."

"Not that." He mutters. "It's what I told you. You didn't see the way she looked at me, Tigris. Like... Like I was a monster."

"She was already scared. She was way out of her element. I think now, that she's safe, she'll find the space to see it reasonably." She tries to soothe his worries as best she can. "You're a good friend to her, and she's a kind person. She'll understand."

"But I'll never know for sure that she does."

"You might one day... Don't beat yourself up about it, and don't give up on her."

After a long, two-day journey curled up on a bench on the train, you recognize the building the train is stopping at. Suddenly, all your energy is returned to you as it slows to a stop, and you're already waiting at the door. You hear the latch unlock and you couldn't get off fast enough.

No one you knew were there, not that you expected any kind of greeting party. You inhale the fresh air, once again surrounded by the trees and your own people. You walk out of the train station and down the street, in the general direction of your home. You tried waving at a few folks you knew on the way, but people just stared, for the most part, jaws slack with surprise. They had already grieved your death. Sometimes you were met with a sad smile, but no one wanted to speak to you. You understood. You were used to that after your time in the Capitol.

"Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?" An excited voice called after you resigned yourself to a quiet walk home, twenty minutes from the bustle of the train station. You turn your head to look up at the back entrance to the Hob, a wide smile taking over your face when you see the speaker.

Your friend is already barrelling toward you, throwing her arms around you as your eyes fill with happy tears. It was refreshing. "I never thought I'd see you again..." You sniff, resting your chin on her shoulder as you hug her back.

Rhythmically, your best friend sways you back and forth. "Oh, I know, I know, sweetheart..." She hums, rubbing your back reassuringly. You can hear her voice crack too. "But you're home now. You're okay..."

She lets you break down as she practically holds you up as you cry in each other's arms. From happiness or trauma, you're not sure. "I did some awful things, I regret it all..."

"Don't regret a thing." She shushes you. "You did what you had to."

"No, no... You don't know... You didn't see..."

"I watched, Hun. When I could." She pulls away, placing her hands on your cheeks to wipe your tears. "You did nothing wrong. All that matters is that you're home now."

You sniff again with a slight nod. "I fear too early, for my mind misgives; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin."

"No... Y/N/N. You're safe here. You are forgiven." She assures you, rubbing your arms. "Now, let's get you home. A good rest will do you well, your parents have been waitin' on you." She waits for you to nod before stepping to your side, guiding you in the right direction with an arm around your waist.

"Thank you, Lucy Gray." You mumble, allowing yourself to lean into her hold.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #hunger games #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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neotrances · 2 years ago

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hi my names tyler, im a autistic black trans guy escaping an abusive household, im remaking this post bc it’s gotten long and donations have mostly stoped

TLDR: my homophobic mother who is verbally physically and financially abusive kicked me out of the house, i cannot go “home” ever as i’m in the process of cutting ties entirely, she has attempted to kill me multiple times and has threatened to kill my pets, something she has done in the past, as of may 15th she’s called all of my family members and have gotten them to turn on me bc of not wishing her a happy mother’s day, the last time we spoke in person threw my belongings (as well as my cats) into the street and threatened to harm me if i return / call the cops, she is incredibly violent, homophobic, transphobic, and mentally unstable and i want to go no contact

i’m staying at my partners parents house but this is not permanent stable housing, i have two cats staying in the room with me and my bf, im looking to find stable housing in the bucks county, Trentons border or north east philly areas, i can afford up to 1k in rent but would prefer anything lower / roommates to split rent for a place near those areas

all money I get will go directly into my savings and will be for paying rent and application fees, i have a steady money flow but i don’t want to risk getting evicted if i find a place, if you know anyone that can spare housing or who is looking for a roommate near these areas please reach out to me i’d really appreciate it, i don’t have many options, i just want to get my life together and be free of my mom so anything at all helps, the gofundme can be spread on its own, i’ll try to update it or this post as often as i can, i just spent about $200 on a new phone today as my mothers been cutting my service on and off despite me paying my own phone bill and i’m trying to make sure her and my family can’t contact me anymore, below are other ways to donate if needed, thankyou for taking the time to read / spread this

paypal + venmo

last updated october 14th, here’s a link to my most recent dono post, i have a depop in my pinned on my blog, thankyou for any support given

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wild-typo-turtle · 2 months ago

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Threads - Part 1

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content eventually (slow burn), canon-typical violence

Credits: The lullaby Gil-galad sings is an original Quenya song by Forest Elves and can be found here. Sindarin phrases referenced from RealElvish.net.

A/N: I was not originally going to publish this AT ALL, but hey - it's going to be a long time till S3. I'm mostly sticking to ROP lore; other lore used when it's convenient. Beta-read by the amazing @stellar-solar-flare. This story is an original work of fanfiction; I do not own any canon characters and I am definitely not making any money on this (but if someone wants to pay me to write fanfic, LET'S TALK). No LLM/AI was used in any aspect of the creation of this work.

This is a WIP and I don't know how long it will be, but I'm having fun with it, so thanks for coming along for the ride.

Part 1

Little was left of the great realm of Eregion.

As he walked, the High King Ereinion Gil-galad grieved for the beauty of the city that had been destroyed. A few lonely buildings were still half-standing, but they were barely more than a few stones leaning atop one another; a piece of a window arch here, a twisted metal spire there. Personal effects that caused his heart to jerk each time he saw them: singed clothing, shattered works of art, a child’s doll torn to pieces.

And the library of Celebrimbor, piled at the center of the plaza. It was still smoking, even though the fire had been put out, and Elrond was kneeling next to it, tears running down his face as he sorted through the charred fragments. There was a tiny stack next to him: a few lightly-singed books and scrolls that had been toward the center of the heap, protected from burning by their brethren. But it was pitifully small, and he felt like weeping along with Elrond, seeing the hundreds of years of knowledge that had been lost.

Of Celebrimbor himself, Gil-galad could not bear to think. Not yet.

He left Elrond to it and continued onward. The wound he had taken in his leg was well on its way to healing, but the muscles still ached, and he was content to keep his pace slow. He leaned on Aeglos for support, and it also helped that he was interrupted every few moments by a steady stream of those coming to him for reports and orders; the searchers, made up mainly of those few survivors from the Lindon forces, were combing through the shattered homes and shops for anyone who might have lived. Their efforts were seldom yielding fruit, but they could not abandon all hope, especially in the face of so much loss.

He had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

He turned swiftly, looking back to Elrond behind him for confirmation that he hadn't been mistaken, and he got it - the herald was alert, his head swiveling towards the building as he slowly rose to his feet. There was something strange about the sound; hearing it had reduced the lingering pain in Gil-galad’s leg to a background throb, buried beneath the desire to find the source of that small cry, to relieve the suffering of whoever had emitted it.

They hurried, as much as he could, and he saw her as he drew closer. She was curled against one of the walls, huddled tightly into herself, and her face was a mass of grime and blood. Gil-galad dropped to his knees instantly, his leg no longer of the slightest concern, and he peered at her through the gloom. “Lady?”

A soft mutter was his only answer, but she uncurled herself slightly. Even in the dim light, he could make out that her tangled hair was a rich chestnut and her ruined dress had once been a deep forest green.

And then her eyes opened, and he lost himself.

Ice blue, in a face that would be the color and hue of fresh cream when it was clean. But not cold, frozen blue - crystalline and pure, like a drink of fresh rainwater from when the Elves had first been awakened near Cuiviénen. Eyes that promised peace, and healing, and rest - except they were glazed with pain, and it obviously took effort for her to focus on him.

“High King,” she muttered. Her voice was rough and tired. “I am sorry - please forgive me, I - “

With horror, he saw that she was struggling to rise. Her left arm was cradled against her body, and he saw - with a wave of fresh alarm - that a piece of twisted metal had embedded itself in her forearm and had pierced straight through. The arm of her dress was bloodstained and wet, and as she moved, he saw that the blood had dripped down to pool on the fabric of her skirt.

“Hush,” he said swiftly, reaching out and gently pressing on her uninjured shoulder. “Hush. Do not move, you are safe.”

Even the light touch subdued her; she sank back against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed. A great beast came to life inside him, roaring with anger at her state, and he turned to Elrond, who stood hovering behind him.

“Why has no one seen to her?” he bit out. “Do we not have healers here?”

“We do, High King,” Elrond said quickly. “I will summon one. The searchers must have missed her.”

He spoke no more, but hurried off, and Gil-galad turned back to the injured woman. His heart had stopped at the sight of the metal, fearful that it would be - like Galadriel’s injury - beyond all but the greatest power to heal. But he could see the wound well enough through the tear in her sleeve; there was no corruption that he could feel from either wound or metal, naught but torn flesh and blood.

“Elrond is fetching help,” he murmured soothingly. “What is your name, lady?”

“Linnea,” she whispered. “I was - I am a weaver…”

Even through the blood and the swelling, he could observe that her hands were elegant and fine. The wound was alarming, but did not appear to be anything that an elf could not heal from; she would not lose her craft in addition to her home.

“Was this your workshop?”

It was a foolish question for the moment, but he wanted to try and distract her from the pain. Where was Elrond with that healer? They had brought several with them from the valley to the north, where the rest of the survivors were gathering. Surely there was one close.

She lifted her head again and looked at him, and her crystalline eyes brimmed over with tears. They cut clean tracks through the dirt covering her face and dripped off her jaw - and his hand reached out of its own accord, before he could even think or decide, and he cupped her cheek in his hand and gently wiped the tears.

And he didn’t take his hand away when it was done.

The skin beneath his palm, even covered in filth, was the softest thing he had ever touched. Softer than his most comfortable robes; softer than the blankets on his bed. Soft, soft, soft, and he wanted to draw her close to him and wrap his arms around her, have her fed and her injuries tended and all else she might need. And preferably, without him having to leave her side or let her go.

“With my parents,” she whispered, answering his question.

He didn’t need to fill in the rest.

The building was almost completely destroyed. Even an Elf couldn’t withstand an entire wall falling on them. He wondered why they had still been here, why they hadn’t run - but perhaps there had been no time, or perhaps they’d thought they were safer sheltering in place and waiting out the siege. It didn’t matter, and it was the last thing he would have asked at that moment.

“High King.”

Elrond’s voice, coming over his shoulder. Gil-galad slowly removed his hand from Linnea’s face and turned, seeing a young man standing next to Elrond clutching a bag. He recognized the Elf from the Lindon supporting forces; Tinwendur was his name, young but competent. He nodded approval at Elrond’s choice.

“Sire, if I may,” the healer said softly. He was peering past Gil-galad, at Linnea, and Gil-galad understood that he was being gently urged to move out of the way.

The great beast growled, finding that idea very much not acceptable.

He settled for shuffling to the side, and Tinwendur quickly knelt beside him. “Her name is Linnea,” he said. “This was her weaving workshop.”

“Linnea. My name is Tinwendur. May I see your arm?”

And she looked to Gil-galad, uncertainty written on her face.

The urge to fold her against him roared up again, to protect her from anything, including someone who was just trying to help her but would likely cause her more pain. He stomped it down and offered her a gentle, encouraging smile.

“He is one of mine,” he murmured. “He is here to help.”

At that, she extended the arm willingly, letting Tinwendur take it. Tinwendur gently probed along the bones with careful, delicate fingers, eliciting more whimpers that Linnea tried to hide. To keep himself from throttling Tinwendur - which would have been exceedingly counterproductive - Gil-galad turned back to Elrond.

“I will stay until she is tended,” he said firmly.

“High King, there is - “

“I will stay.”

There is much to be done, had doubtlessly been what Elrond had been about to say. And he was not wrong. The choice of shield or sword was before him, now that Sauron had taken over Adar’s army of uruk; the decision to fall back and fortify their defenses, or to take the fight to their enemy. And Galadriel still lay unconscious; Nenya and Vilya had preserved her life, but he did not yet know what it might have cost.

But he could no more leave Linnea’s side than he could cease to breathe.

Elrond didn’t say any of the multitude of things that he could have. Instead, he simply dipped his head, murmured a soft High King, and left.

“The arm is not broken,” Tinwendur said. “Once the metal is removed, it will heal in a few days. I would suggest you allow me to do so now, as it will reduce your pain greatly.”

Once more she looked to him, those crystalline eyes seeking out his thoughts. In that moment Gil-galad would have bared his entire heart to her had she asked it; would have composed a poem on the spot if she had bid him to; would have single-handedly hauled the rocks free of the Glanduin and restored the river’s flow. Part of him understood what was happening, how it had been no accident that his ear had heard her cry for help - but the rest of him scarce believed it, that after so long…

He nodded at her. And the great beast purred in satisfaction as she extended her right hand to him, and he took it, closing it gently within his.

She shifted, getting herself as comfortable as she could against the wall. Tinwendur was busy removing supplies from his bag: bandages, a small knife, dried herbs, a jar of salve, flasks of water, a small bowl. He paused in his preparations, looking at Gil-galad hesitantly.

“Speak.”

“Sire, I - I carry athelas. If you would be willing…”

He needed to say no more. Gil-galad nodded, and without any further delay, the healer swiftly opened one of his bags of herbs. One of the flasks had contained hot water, and he set the herbs to steeping in the bowl. Finished with his preparations, he gently took hold of Linnea’s arm again, examining the metal carefully from all angles.

“It should draw out straight and true,” he pronounced. “I see no barbs that might tear the flesh further. Are you ready, my lady?”

“I am.”

It was going to hurt. He knew that Tinwendur was going to be as careful as possible, but it was still going to hurt. His jaw clenched, frustration building that he could do nothing to help her -

No. There was something.

“Linnea,” he said softly. “Keep your eyes on me.”

She turned, meeting his gaze, and a soft smile graced her lips. He squeezed her hand, and felt her squeeze back. Her eyes told him she was not wed, and of course she wasn't, not yet, because she'd been waiting for him and he for her and now neither of them would ever be alone, ever again.

But that would wait for later. For now, he had something to offer to take her mind off the pain, as small as it was, and he opened his mouth, and he began to sing softly.

“Ter i lóme, nai lye ómanya rahtuva,

Or i súre, nai lyenna órenya wilyuva...

Nai loruvalye,

Hendu holine...

Nai loruvalye,

Éli calime...

Á sasta ingalya or telcunyat, nanwie nauvar ilye olorilyar

Á pata ter fend' ex’ Ardanna,

Á papátu mina tyelepta cala

Nai loruvalye,

Hendu holine...

Nai loruvalye,

Éli calime...

Á sasta ingalya or telcunyat, nanwie nauvar ilye olorilyar.”

It was a lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was small, to soothe him when he was restless and could not sleep. And it had the effect he’d wanted it to have now: even as Tinwendur firmly and smoothly pulled the metal from her arm and she gasped, even as her blood welled up and pooled on the ground and Tinwendur worked to stanch the flow, her eyes were still on him, still listening to him sing.

The healer was quick. By the time Gil-galad had finished the song twice through, the wound was sewn shut and Linnea’s arm had been washed, and Tinwendur was handing him a clean cloth and the bowl of steeped athelas.

“All you need do is bathe the wounds again, sire,” he said softly. “The virtue of the herbs in a king’s hands will speed her healing.”

Tinwendur had sliced away the sleeve of her dress, drenched with blood and caked with grime. There was nothing in the way of his hand touching her soft skin - soft, soft, soft - and he tenderly cupped her elbow while he carefully ran the cloth over each side of her arm. And in a way it was a salve for him as well; he would never forget how helpless he had felt only a short time ago, bringing all of his might as High King to bear against Galadriel’s injury and failing. But this, he could do; the stitches still oozed blood, but Tinwendur had done good work, and it would stop soon.

Sweat had beaded Linnea’s forehead through the whole process, but she was looking much better now that the metal was out. As he finished, the healer wrapped the arm in a clean bandage, and offered them both a smile.

“You will mend soon, my lady,” he said. “Is there aught else I might do, High King?”

“No. You have my gratitude for your skill. Continue with those others who need it.”

“Sire.”

Tinwendur bowed, and departed. Gil-galad turned his attention back to Linnea; as much as he wanted to stay, he knew he could not remain for long, not when so many others needed him.

But she had needed him. And his place, as he had said to Elrond, was where the need was greatest.

“Can you stand?” he asked. “With my aid?”

She nodded. “I took no hurt to my legs. I am bruised, but that is all.”

He reached for Aeglos, realizing with a slight pang of guilt that he had carelessly let the spear clatter to the ground when he had dropped to Linnea's side. His leg was aching again, but he ignored it; once he was up, he leaned down and offered Linnea his hand, and helped her to her feet.

She hadn't missed his wince as he’d used the spear to stand, and those crystal eyes turned sharper. “You are injured,” she said softly. “The healer should have seen to you before you sent him away.”

“There are others more sorely in need of his aid than I,” he said, and despite everything, he very nearly laughed as she frowned at him. The Valar had indeed chosen well for him, when they had placed her in his path.

But instead of laughing, he dared to lift his hand, gently touching her cheek again with his fingertips. “I must go,” he murmured. “I would that I could stay.”

“Nonsense,” she smiled. Strength was coming back into her voice, and her color - even beneath the dirt - was improving. “You are the High King. You have already lingered beside one simple weaver for far too long.”

“The farthest thing from a simple weaver to me, my lady. As I think…you know?”

The last was surprisingly intent, and he couldn't help but add that tiny hint of a question at the end. He knew little of courtship, even after thousands of years - he thought she felt the same, but it was always possible he had been mistaken.

She smiled again. There was grief on her face, for her parents and for her city - but also a light in her eyes, not the light of the Trees but gentle, dappled light, like the light on the moss in the deep forests. And she leaned, just the slightest bit, into his hand, bringing his fingers more fully in contact with her face.

He wasn't mistaken.

“I think that we have much to discuss, my lord,” she whispered.

He could not have been more filled with joy if she'd just told him that Sauron had been expelled from Arda for good. The weight he carried of the decision before him; the grief for the city, for Celebrimbor, for the thousands of lives that had been lost - it was still there, but the burden was eased, as if by her mere presence she had taken part of it for him.

No, she was no simple weaver. She never had been.

He slowly released her face, but his boldness had not been exhausted; he reached down, taking her hand again. And the ease with which she gave it to him, the firmness of her grip, the lacing of her fingers with his, told him again that his heart had not been wrong when it had said yes, this is her.

“The survivors are gathering in a valley to the north,” he told her. “We return to Lindon soon. You will be safe there - if that is where you wish to go.”

He was on firmer ground now. He knew what his answer would have been had anyone proposed him going somewhere that she was not, and his certainty was rewarded with her nod. “I will see if there is anything to be saved here first.”

She looked over her shoulder sadly, her eyes sweeping over the ruins of the building. He could see the doubt on her face that it was anything but a futile effort, but he also understood that she had to try regardless. Hope is never mere, even when it is meager.

“I will send someone to help you,” he promised. “They will ensure you are cared for. And…once we return…”

He had managed to put himself back together after the battle, if only slightly. But once they returned to Lindon, he could have a real bath, and a good meal, and actually be in a proper state to begin that courtship. He had some idea of how to go about it; perhaps she could join him for that good meal, the first of many.

“There will be time,” he finished. “Once you are settled.”

He wanted to kiss her, as absurd as it was. But this was no place for that momentous step, and neither of them was in any shape to share it. Not with both their injuries, and not with the loss she'd endured, and not with his obligations as High King awaiting him. He could wait, and he could settle for lifting her hand and brushing the back with the lightest whisper of his lips.

And when he raised his head, that light in her eyes was shining bright.

“Do not make me wait too long, my lord.”

Continue to Part 2

#gil-galad #the rings of power #rings of power #fanfic #fanfiction #gil galad #fix it fic #fix it au #gil-galad x ofc #trop fanfiction

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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months ago

Text

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 15

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Warning: Tragedy, Angst, Manipulation, Intimidation

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Her body shivered as she heard him admit his actions without remorse. This scary man’s name is Lance. He’s dangerous and sadistic, with no moral compass.

Lance’s presence was intimidating. He was a hulking figure with a sinister smile that never quite reached his cold, calculating eyes. His hands, large and scarred, rested on the table with a casual menace. His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble that carried an unspoken threat, making it clear that he was a man who thrived on fear and chaos.

He will do anything to get what he wants. She had heard from some people that Lance had a plan to kidnap a billionaire’s kid and demand a ransom.

Genevieve didn’t want to participate and felt lucky that she had escaped that circle of hell. But right now, she was walking back into hell to stop the humiliation her family received from you.

Lance put out his cigar and leaned back, his eyes glinting with malevolence. “You’re not here for a cup of tea, right?”

Genevieve took a seat beside him, trying to steady her trembling hands. “I need your advice. I’ll give you money.”

He let out a low chuckle, sending chills down her spine. “Now we’re speaking the same language.”

👷👷👷👷

Bucky went to visit the new manufacturing company. He felt a wave of fear when he stepped into the factory. As he was receiving the tour, he passed by some workers. One particular worker, with a larger build than the others, wore a big hat that covered his upper face. Bucky shivered. It was the same feeling he had when he was kidnapped. His trauma was triggered again.

He turned to take a good look at the man again, catching only a side view. But that smirk—he knew it. He had seen it a million times in his nightmares. That man was his kidnapper.

Bucky's heart started beating fast, and he couldn't keep standing. He struggled to breathe and then collapsed. Everyone around him panicked.

"Boss!!!" His assistant and secretary quickly rushed to help Bucky, but their touch only made his symptoms more severe.

"Call an ambulance!" the assistant yelled, and others frantically tried to assist.

Except for Lance. He looked on from afar and smirked. This was exactly what Genevieve had asked Lance to do: trigger Bucky's trauma and trap him in his own nightmare.

You received a call from Juliana informing you that Bucky had been taken to the hospital. When you arrived, you found out that Bucky had lost consciousness. You felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being able to help him.

Juliana looked at you with concern, her eyes filled with worry. You clenched your fists, your heart aching for Bucky. "I should have been there for him."

Juliana put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "There's no way you could have known. All we can do now is be here for him when he wakes up."

You nodded, determined. "I will. I won't let him face this alone."

💍💍💍💍

While Genevieve felt great that her plan was working, she didn’t know that Jonathan had another idea: to arrange an engagement between Victoria and another successful family.

Victoria pointed at the photo of a man she knew from her social circle. "Him?" It was Ryan Henken, a rich daddy's boy.

Jonathan nodded. "You both already know each other. It will be easy to fast-track the engagement."

Victoria's face twisted in disbelief. "He’s not the right person to marry. His mind is messed up." It was true; she hung out with Ryan and others, but he was the type of man suited for parties, not family life. She knew how Ryan treated his former girlfriends. The man was crazy.

Even after listening to his daughter, he remained firm. "His parents have already agreed to this."

"You didn't even discuss this with me! Are you going to let me have a miserable marriage?" Victoria's voice was filled with desperation.

"You still live under my roof. My rule," Jonathan said coldly, leaving the room. His decision was final, and no one could change it.

Victoria clenched her fists in frustration. Her peaceful life had started crumbling after you ruined her engagement with Bucky. This was all because of you.

Upset, Victoria drove around the city aimlessly. She eventually stopped at a park and began walking, trying to clear her mind.

“Pretty lady, you dropped your keys,” she heard an elderly voice say.

Turning around, she widened her eyes. She knew this older woman—it was your grandmother, Cassandra.

Victoria clenched her fists as she approached. "Thank you," she said, leaning down to pick up the keys. She leaned closer and whispered to Cassandra, "The woman who stays with you is not Ophelia, but your granddaughter. Your daughter is dead, killed by her husband. And the granddaughter who stays with you shares the same blood as the man who killed Ophelia."

Cassandra's breath shortened, and she pulled at her hair in distress. "Ophelia… No… My baby!"

“Hey! What did you do to her?” Cassandra's caretaker pushed Victoria away from the elderly woman.

Seeing Cassandra devastated made Victoria feel a twisted sense of fulfillment. "I'm just telling the truth," she said, then left, acting as if she had nothing to do with Cassandra's agony.

Cassandra's mind was in turmoil, unable to accept that her daughter was dead.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

You rushed home immediately when you heard your grandma had fainted from a panic attack. What was happening? First Bucky, now your grandma?

As you entered her room, the first thing Cassandra said when she saw you made your heart ache. Her weak hands trembled as she tried to reach for you. "Ophelia, you're here." You went into her arms, only for her to push you away, leaving you flabbergasted.

Her frantic eyes bore into you. "No. You died!" Cassandra's voice broke with grief. "It's my fault." She kept mumbling, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry." The caretaker had to calm her down with medication.

Slowly, you walked out of her bedroom, not realizing tears had started slipping from your eyes. You were the type of person who found it difficult to cry.

The first time you fully remembered crying was when your mother got sick. The second time was at Ophelia's funeral. The third time was when Genevieve tore down the glass house your mother had built. The fourth time was when Cassandra began forgetting you because of her dementia.

You leaned your back against the wall and slowly slid down, sitting on the floor as you cried.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps and someone calling your name. You lifted your head and saw Patrick standing there.

Patrick saw you crying for the first time, and his heart ached for you. He knelt down and hugged you tightly. "It's alright, you can get through this," he whispered.

As he held you, you felt a sense of security you had longed for. It would be a lie to say you never craved affection from your father. But with Patrick, you could sense his genuine desire to protect you.

Patrick's embrace was strong and warm, his hand gently rubbing your back. "I wish I could have been here for you sooner," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm here now, and I won't let you go through this alone."

You clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt. For the first time in a long while, you felt the kind of support and love you had missed so desperately. It was a bittersweet comfort, knowing that Patrick was there for you while feeling the weight of your losses even more keenly.

Patrick gently wiped away your tears, his eyes filled with determination. "We'll get through this together," he promised, his voice steady and reassuring. "I won't let anything else happen to you or your grandma."

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊

At the charity event, where many guests and influential people were gathered in the ballroom, the spokesperson said, “We’re grateful for the generous donation from our biggest benefactor, Jonathan Sinclair,” gesturing for Jonathan to stand up so the guests could see him and give him an ovation.

Jonathan stood up and smiled, but suddenly, Patrick appeared and punched him hard. Jonathan fell to the ground, and the crowd gasped in shock, some screaming.

This was Patrick’s purpose. He wanted to ruin Jonathan's good name since he had cultivated an image of a quiet yet charitable man, along with Genevieve and Victoria.

Patrick, now on top of Jonathan, continued to punch him. "This man left his wife dying for his mistress," he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. "After his wife was buried, he brought in his mistress and daughter. A daughter he had while still married."

Patrick paused, his fist hovering in the air, his eyes red and glassy with anger and tears. "I shouldn't have left Ophelia with you. You have a good daughter and a kind mother-in-law. You don’t deserve them!"

He landed another punch so hard at Jonathan's face that someone swore they saw a tooth fly out.

“Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Genevieve screamed, running toward them as if she had arrived late.

The security finally intervened, restraining Patrick, who spat, “I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

Genevieve carefully touched Jonathan’s bloody face and glared at Patrick. “You won’t get away with this.”

Patrick smirked. “I’ll be waiting.” He walked away, satisfied after doing something he felt should have been done long ago.

Jonathan lay on the ground, coughing up blood. If he could open his eyes, he would see the judgment in everyone’s eyes as they realized he wasn’t so great after all.

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winchesterwild78 · 2 months ago

Text

A Home and a Heart

Master List

Characters: Jack Durfy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Inappropriate propositions, angst, injury

A/N: Just a quick story, not too long. Maybe two or three chapters. I haven’t seen Buddy Games, but I did Google the character. I know he wasn’t in the movie long, but we can always use our imagination.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life or the movie in any way.

Please do not take my work, reblogs are appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

The rain drummed against the roof, echoing through the small, cramped house. You sighed, your heart heavy with worry. You had been trying to keep your head above water, but it seemed the problems just kept piling up. The leaky roof, the faulty stove outlet, and the crumbling front steps were more than you could handle.

You were a single mother to a very active 3 year old boy, Tommy. He was the light of your life, but it was also exhausting doing everything alone. Tommy’s father ditched you the minute he found out you were pregnant, and you haven’t heard from him since.

Your family and best friend have been an amazing support for him and you. When you had to work late at the hospital, they would watch him and help take care of him.

Being so fiercely independent, you refused to tell them just how bad the repairs needed really were. Your best friend, Abby, knew. She offered to help you, but you refused. She had just had a baby and she and her husband were trying to build their nest egg. You couldn’t take money from them.

Desperate, you reached out to local handymen for help. The first one showed up in a fancy new truck. He walked around your home and took notes, he went on the roof and when he came down he handed you a quote for $15,000. Your eyes almost popped out of your head. “Well, thank you so much for coming out. I’ll let you know.” He nodded and got in his truck and left.

The other quotes were any better. None of the companies were willing to set up payments with you. Even though you had a steady job and amazing credit they said they weren’t willing to make arraignments for such a large amount.

The last two contractors were far worse. You showed Joe in and he walked around. He started to head towards your bedroom, “Um, excuse me, there isn’t anything in there that needs repairing.” He turned and walked over to you, “Oh not yet, darlin’, but I’m sure you can’t pay so we can work something out.” His hand brushed against your breast.

“ I think you should leave.” “Ah don’t be like that. I know you’re lonely and need more than just your house worked on.” You were fuming, “Leave, NOW!”

He grabbed his stuff and left. You were starting to feel hopeless. You called Abby, “Hey Abbs. I don’t know what to do. I’ve called every handyman I can find and they are either too high, won’t do a payment plan, or they try to sleep with me. I need to give Tommy a safe place to live. I don’t want to walk away from this house. It’s mine and it’s something I’m proud of having.”

Abby offered a sympathetic ear, “I know honey. Maybe you can try and call Jack Durfy. He owns Durfy Construction, he can be a bit of an ass, but I know he’s got a kind heart. When John got laid off a few years ago, Jack had him come work for him so he could make some money.” “I didn’t know that. I’ll give him a call, thanks Abbs.”

Jack owned Durfy Construction, and though he had a reputation for being gruff, you were willing to give him a chance. You called him up and asked him to come by for a consultation. “Mr Durfy, my friend Abby Smith told me to call you. I own a small home and it’s in need of some urgent repairs. I’m going to be honest with you so I’m not wasting your time, I’m a single mom on a fixed income. I’d be willing to set up a payment plan if you were open to it.” “Well, let me come out there and take a look. I’ll let you know.”

The next morning you saw Jack driving down your driveway in his big truck. Tommy was standing at the door, jumping up and down seeing the truck. “Truck, mommy, truck!” You scooped up the toddler, “Yes baby I see it’s a truck. Mr. Durfy is here to see if he can help fix the house.

Jack walked up the stairs and noticed how broken they were. You greeted him with a warm smile and an extended hand, “Hello Mr Durfy, thank you for coming by. I really appreciate it.” He shook your hand, “Hello Ms Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you, and who’s this little guy?” He ruffled Tommy’s hair. Your toddler squealed in delight, “I’m Tommy.” “Well, hello Tommy. Want to show me the house buddy?” Tommy nodded excitedly. You smiled softly.

As Jack inspected the house, he discovered even more problems than you had initially realized.

“So Ms, Y/L/N, besides the roof, front steps, and stove outlet, I unfortunately found some other things that need attention as soon as possible. The foundation is cracked by your bedroom, and the main bathroom has a leak into the walls. That’s going to require a complete demolition of the bathroom, so we can dry out the wall and replace everything.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Oh wow. I definitely got screwed over when I bought this place. I never should have bought it.” The tears started to fall. You wiped them away quickly, “I’m sorry Mr. Durfy. How much will all of this cost me?

“Well, first, please call me Jack, and I can do it all for about $5,000.” You sat and looked at him in disbelief, “I’m sorry, what? $5,000? That’s it? Please Mr. Durfy, I mean Jack, please tell me the full price.”

“That is the full price. I don’t take advantage of people and I own all of my own equipment and have all the material needed for the repairs already. I tell you what, if you’d agree to do something for me I’d be willing to do the repairs at no cost.”

“You know what, I’m tired of men thinking I’d spread my legs for them to get repairs done.” “Whoa! What? Y/N, I’m not asking you to sleep with me. Jesus. What kind of man do you think I am? Shit!”

Your face turned red with embarrassment, “Jack I’m so sorry. The last guy I had here tried to get me to sleep with him to do the repairs. I am so sorry. I understand if you want to leave.”

“Let me guess, Joe Collins?” “Yes, how did you know?” “The guy is a douchebag. He tries to jack up his rates and then sleeps with women to get them lower.” “That’s disgusting.” “Yeah it really is.”

“So, like I was saying, I work really late at night, sometimes I just sleep in the office trailer. It’s been years since I’ve had a home cooked meal, and I know you can cook. Abby told me. (he smirked) So if you’d be willing to cook some meals for me, I’d be willing to do the repairs for you. Of course I might need Tommy’s assistance with tools and stuff, if that’s okay with you.”

“Wow, that’s really generous of you. I know Tommy would love to help you with tools. I doubt you’d get the right one you needed, but he’d try. Sure, I’ll cook for you. Are you allergic to anything or have any dietary restrictions?”

“Nope, I’m not a pansy. I like meat and eat junk, so I’m good for anything.” “Having allergies and dietary restrictions don’t make you a pansy.” You chuckled.

A few days later you were woken up by the sound of walking on the roof. You looked over at the clock and it was a little after 6am. You grumbled and grabbed your robe. Walking outside you stepped into the yard, “Um, since when did we agree to you coming at the crack of dawn to start working?”

Jack looked down at you and chuckled, “Sorry sweetheart, there is rain coming in later and we wanted to get this roof pulled off and the new one laid before it comes in.”

“Ugh! Fine. Wait, I just needed a repair, not a whole new roof.” Jack looked down at you, “The repair area was just too big. It makes more sense to just do a new roof.” “Okay, well I’ll be in the house trying to sleep. I have a shift in a few hours.”

“Sweet dreams” Jack chuckled. You lazily waved and climbed up the stairs and went inside. Abby had taken Tommy to her house for the night, so you grabbed your earphones, turned on some white noise and went back to sleep.

A few hours later your alarm went off and you got out of bed. Hearing the hammering overhead you figured they were already laying the new roof. Dang they work fast. You went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Waiting for the water to heat up, you went into the kitchen and started your coffee. You made extra for Jack and the guys working with him.

Jumping in the shower you cleaned yourself and your hair. You finished getting ready for work then went into the kitchen and started cooking something to eat. You figured Jack and the other guys were hungry, so you whipped up something filling for them too.

You ate quickly and grabbed your cup of coffee. Grabbing your bag you went outside and got Jack’s attention. He climbed down from the roof, “Hey, I hope we were as quiet as we could be.” “Oh I put in my earbuds, I didn’t hear anything but the soothing sounds of the ocean.” Jack chuckled.

“So I’m heading out to work, I left the front door unlocked for you. I made you guys something to eat and some coffee if you’re hungry. All I ask is you guys stay out of my underwear drawer.” Jack chuckled, “Now where’s the fun in that. You know you learn a lot about someone by the underwear in their drawer.” You looked at Jack unamused. He threw his hands up in defeat, “Sorry, I was just kidding. We don’t go through people’s things. You can trust us. Thanks for cooking, you didn’t have to.” “Yes I did, I thought that was our arrangement.” “Yes, but only for me. I can’t have you spoiling my guys.”

You smiled and touched his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the good stuff for you.” Your fingers lingered on his chest for a few minutes. His chest was so toned and firm. Your breath quickened. Jack’s heart started pounding, he liked your hand on his chest.

You cleared your throat, “Well have a good evening, Jack. I’ll see you later.” “Yeah, bye, Y/N, have a good shift, and thanks for the food.” You waved and nodded as you climbed in your car.

Driving to work all you could think about was Jack. His piercing green eyes, his smile, his bowed legs perfectly hugged by his blue jeans, his toned chest, and his whiskey silky voice. You hadn’t realized your face had flushed or that you were biting your lip until you put your car in park at work.

You took a deep shaky breath before getting out. This attraction to Jack came out of nowhere. You really need to get it under control since he’ll be working at your house.

A few hours into your shift you walked into a patient's room to check on them before they were discharged. That’s when you heard a familiar voice coming from the room next door.

“The nurse will be right with you sir. I’m just the triage nurse.” She walked out of the room and handed you the chart, “This one is a little grumpy. He keeps complaining he doesn’t have time for this shit.”

You snorted, “Okay, thanks for the heads up.” You looked at the chart and softly gasped. Jack Durfy, Male, 46 years old.

Of course this happens. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Come in” you heard his gruff voice say.

As soon as Jack saw you his eys softened. “Well, hey sweetheart.” You smiled and blushed a little, “Jack, what happened?”

“It was stupid, I got distracted and fell off the roof. I think I broke a rib and I sliced my hand pretty good.”

“Oh my god, Jack! Okay let me see the hand first.”

You removed the temporary dressing and looked at his hand. Taking his large, calloused hand in yours sent a shiver through your body and straight between your thighs. Your breath quickened.

Swallowing hard, “You’re going to need stitches. I’m going to clean the wound and get the sutures on it.” Jack just nodded.

As you cleaned his wound and stitched him up, he watched you, completely mesmerized by you. The way your fingers brushed over his skin, like a delicate dance, only the two of you were invited to.

You bit your lip as you worked. Your eyes flicked up to his, God he’s got gorgeous green eyes. And his lips look so plump and soft.

“Okay, all patched up. X-ray will be here to take you in a few minutes. Hopefully nothing is broken.” Your hand lingered on his for a few moments. “Hey, Y/N, thank you.” He touched your hand as you started to walk away.

You smiled and nodded. A few minutes later they came to take him away to get his x-rays done.

You sent Abby a text.

You: Girl, Jack got injured and he’s here right now. I just finished working on him.

Abby: Mmm is that what it’s called now. 😝

You: Girl, stop. 😂

Abby: He’s single, you’re single, he’s hot, you’re hot.

You: No I’m not, girl stop. There is no way he’d be interested in me, an frompy, single mom.

Abby: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re amazing, beautiful and a kick ass mom. Anyone would be lucky to have you.

You: Thanks, Abbs. Well he’s back from x-ray. Gotta go. Give Tommy a kiss for me.

Abby: Will do, go give Jack a big kiss, make his boo boos all better. 😘

You: Yeah right. 🙄

Your face flushed a little with Abby’s texts. You walked back into his room. “So now we wait for the doctor to read the film and he’ll tell us what to do next. Jack, I can’t believe you fell off the room. You could have been killed. I’m so glad you’re okay.” You touched his shoulder.

His eyes sparkled under the harsh lights of the ER, “Me too, not sure what happened. I was just distracted and lost my footing. It was stupid.”

The doctor came in a few minutes later, “Mr Durfy, I don’t see broken ribs, they are however bruised really bad. I’m going to have Ms. Y/L/N to wrap it pretty good for you. Keep it on unless you absolutely need to take it off, like to shower. Do you have someone who can help you wrap it tight again?”

Jack looked up and was about to say no, but you nodded yes. “Um, yeah I guess I do.” “Great, then I’ll let you get wrapped up and we can discharge you. Ms. Y/L/N, wrap him tight and get him ready to go home.” You nodded, “Yes, sir. Mr. Durfy, I’ll be right back with the wrap and your discharge papers.” Jack nodded and you walked out.

Coming back in with the wrap and his papers you took a deep breath. “Okay, Jack I, um, need you to remove your shirt.” Jack took his shirt off and you let out a soft gasp. He was so toned, and being this close to him made you quiver between your thighs.

“This might hurt a bit, but let me know if it’s unbearable.” Jack nodded and you got to work. “Lift your arms slightly for me.” You started to wrap the bandage around his torso. You noticed goosebumps erupt on his skin as you wrapped his ribs. You leaned around him and your chest was flush with his as you reached around to wrap around his back.

As you stood back up, you stopped and Jack placed his fingers lightly on your chin. “You’re incredible, you know that?” You blushed, “Thank you.” “I mean it, you are amazing at your job, you’re a kick ass mother, and you’re so beautiful.”

“Jack, I, um, don’t know what to say.” He smiled softly at you, “You don’t have to say anything, darlin’.” Jack’s fingers brushed against your face, you leaned into his touch, instinctively.

“What would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” You softly chuckled, “I’d ask if you hit your head when you fell.” “I didn’t, and I’m serious. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you.”

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “Well, then do it.” You couldn’t believe you told him to kiss you. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt like you were going to pass out.

Jack leaned in closer to you, your lips inches from each other. Your breath hitched. Jack softly pressed his lips to yours and you pressed yours to his.

The kiss was soft and tender, not rushed or needy. As you two pulled back, his hand held onto your arm for a few minutes.

“That was so good. I can’t wait to do it again.” He smiled at you. “Me either, Jack.” So he leaned in and placed his lips to yours, this time the kiss was deeper. He put his hand in your hair and pulled you between his legs. His tongue swiped across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and Jack deepened the kiss more. You moaned into his mouth.

The kiss was incredible, sending chills through your body. When the two of you finally pulled apart, you both smiled at each other. “Well, Mr. Durfy, you should head home to rest. I’ll see you later.” He smiled, “Yeah, I’ll see you after your shift. I need to go finish up some stuff before I call it a day. You shook your head, “Jack, please go home and rest. Whatever it is can wait.”

Jack got off the table and grabbed his shirt, putting it on, “I’ll think about it.” He placed another soft kiss on your lips and smirked.

“I’m never going to stop kissing you, I hope you know that.” “Good, because I don’t want you too. I’ll see you later, Jack.” “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

With that, Jack grabbed his things and left the ER. You were left finishing your shift, thinking about the shared kiss and what it will mean for your future. You hoped it meant the beginning of something wonderful, but you were still guarded, and not just for your sake, but for Tommy. Only time will tell for sure.

Part 2….Coming Soon

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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whohasthecards · 11 months ago

Text

Bradley, Bob, & Jake as Brothers

Just imagining the dynamic if these three because of the Dagger Squad and Mav and Ice began started to bond.

Bradley: An only child who was suddenly given 2 baby brothers.

Goose and Carol's only son, became a Mama's boy

After Goose died, the class of '86 helped chip in to raise him, meaning before they settled in with their own families he got the attention of so many uncles.

Mav of course took the most active role, basically being the father-figure to Bradley after Goose died. Bradley sees him more as a dad than Goose, that's why it hurt so much when Mav pulled his papers.

Then suddenly, the mission happened, they turn into a permanent squadron, and wow is Mav bringing Jake and Bob around more and more.

Hmmm, so Bob's former squadron giving him some trouble? No they're not.

Goddammit, Jake, give that back, right now!

Bradley: Hangman's the worst, selfish prick (Jake ate his leftovers). Some guy: Yeah, the guy's a fucking selfish assho- Bradley: What the fuck did you just say?

Bob: The youngest child given an older brother that actually pays attention to him and a younger brother that he needs to protect.

Big age difference between him and his siblings, he's the baby, was born when his siblings were already teenagers and young adults, focused on their own lives than him.

He was spoiled and loved by his family though, but they couldn't give him a lot of time and attention. His siblings were building their own lives, his parents were getting older, and he was an "easy kid". Bob was quiet, easy to please, easy to ignore.

When he said he wanted to join the Navy, his family was not supportive and doubted his ability. Deeply hurt him.

Then Bradley came, who would actually listen to him. Ruffle his hair and offer to hang out with him. They would play instruments together and stuff. Who defended him against his former squadron when they were making fun of him.

Then there was Jake who loved poking fun at him, but never in a mean way. Who would forget to eat when he was busy or having fun, making him have to shove fruit snacks in his mouth. Who would simultaneously teach and make fun of him when playing pool.

Bob: Come on, Rooster, not the hair (Bob rolled his eyes as Bradley ruffled his hair) Bradley: Awww, you're taking after Jakey, caring about your hair so much. Bob: Well, we actually want to look presentable (scrunches his nose at Bradley's Hawaiian shirt) Bradley: How rude.

Jake: The forcibly responsible, yet ignored middle-child, being given 2 older brothers who are protective of him, and finally gives him the chance to be free.

Jake is the middle child, have two older siblings and one younger sibling. His parents were neglectful, did not care enough.

He and his siblings used to be tight, but due to circumstances falls apart.

His older brother is a Navy SEAL, but suffers from PTSD, when he's on leave, he gets into trouble and drinks too much. He has to bail his brother out a couple of times.

His older sister began to be distant, he doesn't know where she is, she sends money and calls every now and then, but she started a new life. Whenever Jake asks for help, she refuses, claiming that Jake is strong and smart enough, that he can do it. (Jake simultaneously can't blame her and is resentful of her)

His younger sister needs financial support since she's just a teenager, she's in college right now and Jake is extremely proud of her. Just lonely as well. She's doing well for herself, Jake wants to protect her innocence. He acts more like her dad than their dad ever was.

Jake always has to be the rock, steady and strong. He's just tired.

He's a twenty-something, and he wants to be a twenty-something, careless and free. Fuck up and have fun every once in a while.

Then Bradley and Bob comes in.

He can't help but allow himself to play around with them, mess with them, tease them. They make him let his guard down, it's fun being around them, he's not responsible of them outside of being their teammate.

And they actually pay attention to him, and dote over him. He grumbles about them being overprotective or being too much of a mother hen, but he's sad whenever they hesitate to ruffle his hair, wondering if they were overstepping.

Maybe one day, he'll tell them about his family.

Jake (sinks 8-ball in): HAH! I won this game Bobert, pay up Bob (rolls his eyes as he pushes the cup of peanuts towards Jake): Eat up, you mean. Bradley (Ruffles Jake's hair): You gotta let him win once in a while. Jake (pouts): But how will he learn? And plus, how else would I be able to get some peanuts?

#fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #mavdad #bob floyd #headcannons #just a bunch of ideas that I just decided to word vomit out #not proofread just post might proofread later #yes bob is older than Jake here he just has a baby face #mavdad and icepops are in the back supervising #Bradley suddenly has a handful of baby brothers and doesn't know what to do #its okay he takes after his dad(s)#I just realized I should have added Javy in here #probably in another post Javy and Jake brotherhood is the shit #Jake is neglected over-responsible middle child that finds work less stressful than his home life

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yuwuta · 5 months ago

Note

JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn…..

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words.

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)

#anonymous #nanami kento.......................................... god #also yuuji :((((( just a kid who wanted to do something nice for his grandpa I will CRY #immediate proposal when he gets home to you who does he think he is? yuuta?#speaking of yuuta he's like the best player his age and he's always asked to attend events or parties or whatever #and he's always like ah no thank you I am going home to my girlfriend #every fucking interview it's like yeah I love tennis but I love my girlfriend more for supporting and encouraging me #my girlfriend my girlfriend my girlfriend #one day he actually seems Excited to be doing his press conference and a journalist picks up on it to which yuuta happily raises his hand #and lets everyone know that he's now engaged. and very very grateful for his wife #he does the same shit a few years later like randomly during a press conference he's like #'I am kinda nervous. my baby didn't sleep well last night so I was up with him pretty late' and everyone's like BABY?#and yuutas like yeah! he's almost 14 months now do u wanna see him!#let me stop bringing kids into this bc w/ satoru and kento I could go on for hours....#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #yuuta x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #nanami kento x reader #once u asked megumi what he thinks about when he's practicing and he's so deadpan as he reloads and arrow #and right before he lets it go he's like 'ur ex boyfriend' and then hits the target dead in the center LMFAO #olympics au

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nerdiel-has-no-braincells · 1 year ago

Text

If I Stay

ft: michael kaiser x f!reader

summary: you don’t know how you got into this predicament, taking beating after beating, insult after insult, all for what? for your daughter, who your fiancée loves more than anything. you begin to think back on how you put yourself into this position

cw: aged!up, abusive relationship (not michael & reader), angst, physical and emotional abuse (not michael & reader), please do not read if this will trigger you (for your own safety and mental well being 🫶🏻)

It’s always easy to say that we would never let a significant other treat us badly. It’s so easy to tell ourselves that we respect ourselves too much to allow someone to put us down.

When we’re on the outside, we see toxic relationships and always tell ourselves that we’ll never allow ourselves to be in one until we do become in one. How hard is it to leave when you don’t remember the reason why you originally left?

That’s what you keep asking yourself as you look at your fiancée of 5 years. Why do you stay? Why can’t you bring yourself to leave?

Is it love? Is it because you’re stuck? Is it because you want to make it work? You don’t have an answer to these questions. But when you look at your 2 year old daughter, you can’t help but wish she wouldn’t hear her father yelling at you, calling you every name that had ever existed. You prayed she wouldn’t see the bruises that covered your body, causing you to be forced to wear sweaters even during the hottest seasons because he doesn’t try to leave bruises in easily hidden places.

You prayed so hard every night that your daughter would never allow herself to be in a relationship as toxic as yours.

You shielded your daughter from seeing and hearing the fights that go on in the night. You shed silent tears in order to not wake her from her slumber as you cowered in the corner taking punch after punch.

Your fiancée was a narcissist in the worst way. Not only was everything your fault, you didn’t do anything, you paid for nothing, and you never took care of your daughter even though you were the primary caregiver, everything was in your name, you were the one who had a steady job while your fiancée was once again unable to work due to his “back injury” that he obtained while at work.

He really did though, in the beginning. He went to physical therapy and you were there for him every step of the way until it became months after he had finished his therapy and was cleared to go back to work. Instead, he used it as an excuse to not work, do chores, anything.

Your days include taking care of your daughter, going to work at one of your two jobs, going to your second job, coming home to clean, make dinner, and continue taking care of your daughter. All while your fiancée sat on the couch playing games.

While you were at work, your daughter stayed with your mother, who had been worried for your well being. You never told her what really happens at home, always playing it off as just another silly argument, saying he was going to anger management, and that things were getting better. Your mother knew better, though, but the only thing she could do was love and be there for you. She’s tried to help you; tried to get you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You tell yourself time and time again that you love him and that’s the reason why you stay. You chose to relish in the good times rather than the bad, even when the bad outweighed the good.

That being said, you were looking forward to the weekend. Your darling baby girl had recently turned 3 and her birthday party was on Saturday. Your best friends, who you considered as family, were coming to spend time with your daughter.

They’ve always expressed their concerns about your fiancée to you, but they choose to love and support you no matter what.

Because you’re paying for everything out of pocket, you had reached out to take a rain check on the party because you didn’t have the money to be able to afford to take everyone swimming. One of your friends, Kathrin, offered to pay for it instead just so that your daughter could spend the day having fun with her cousins and aunts. You were so thankful and had talked to your fiancée about it, to which he agreed to it.

The day of the party, however, you were in the middle of getting your daughter ready for her party by dressing her in her favorite party dress, and your husband had passed by your daughter’s room after just waking up. Stopping, he turned back around and looked at you in anger, causing the hair on your arms and nape to stand. You instinctively turned around and shielded your daughter behind you as you stared at your fiancée, waiting for him to say something as he glowered down at you.

“Tell your little friend that she’s not paying for shit.” He finally speaks. “I don’t fucking accept handouts.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“It’s not a handout. Kathrin genuinely wants Emma to have fun with her cousins and aunts.” You responded, careful to not raise your voice or change your calm tone. You didn’t want to start an argument but calmly talk it out. Sometimes he’d be in a good mood to talk things out and you were hoping, praying that today was one of those days.

“She’s not paying for anything.” He seethed. Looks like today wasn’t one of those days.

“All she’s trying to do is make me look bad. Tell her she’s not paying for shit.”

You scoffed before you glanced down at your daughter. Giving her a small smile, you tell her to go play with her toys so that she wouldn’t be in the same room as the impending argument that would shortly unfold before looking at your fiancée.

“She’s not making you look bad. Sometimes people need help and it’s ok to accept help. She just genuinely wants to make Emma happy.” You respond. When it came to your daughter’s well-being and happiness, you found your voice.

Your fiancée’s glare never wavered. He didn’t like when you talked back to him, especially when you were attempting to make him look like a fool.

“I know what your friends think about me. You think I’m fucking dumb?!” He shouted, causing you to flinch.

Wrong move.

He immediately reached out and grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up to where your feet barely touched the floor, dangling below. You grabbed onto his wrist, trying to get him to loosen his hold onto you until he threw you against the door causing you to choke in pain.

“I don’t give a fuck if your friends want to talk shit to me but the moment you open your mouth, you bet your stupid ass I’m going to shut you up myself.”

Squeezing his fingers around your throat, you feel your airwaves close and you begin to gasp for breath. Your body’s alarm bells ring and you begin to struggle and scratch at his hands and wrist, trying to loosen his grip on you.

In the corner of your tear filled eyes, you see your daughter in the hall as she sees her father choking you and begins to cry.

The one weakness your fiancée has is his daughter, so when he hears her cries, he immediately drops his guard and looks over at her. Dropping you to the floor, he runs over to her and scoops her up in his arms.

“It’s ok sweetheart, daddy’s got you now.” He soothes as he walks away, leaving you coughing on the floor trying to find your breath.

Damn him. Fucking damn him.

You reach for your phone and send a quick text to your friends that the party was cancelled. When they expressed their worries and asked what happened, you didn’t respond back.

As soon as you caught your breath, you go into the bathroom, turning on the light and looking into the mirror. Forming on your neck were bruises in the shape of your fiancée’s fingers, steadily growing darker as time passed by.

The tears that had formed in your eyes earlier fell and you felt yourself sink onto the floor. Covering your mouth with your hand, you finally let yourself cry.

That night, you gently got out of bed and dressed yourself in clothes that would hide your arms and neck. After your fiancée had calmed down, he apologized for what he did to you and cried asking for your forgiveness, which as always, you forgave him.

After putting your daughter to bed, he came up behind you and began to kiss your neck, apologizing over and over while you cleaned the dishes from dinner.

This happens every time. He would have an outburst, hit you, and then beg your forgiveness when he felt horny. So you ended up forgiving and sleeping with him. Today wasn’t any different and you wanted nothing more than to take your daughter and leave.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He loved his daughter more than anything and despite how horrible he is to you, he’s an amazing and wonderful father. Emma is his entire world and she loves her father very much.

Your friends and family have told you that it wasn’t healthy for her to be raised in an environment where you were being abused. You knew it. But you just couldn’t take her away from him so long as he never laid a hand on her. And a part of you felt like he knew that.

Leaving to go to the convenience store, you thought back on when you were laying underneath your fiancée. He kept whining about how much he wanted another child, a sibling for Emma. You weren’t ready for another child just yet. Not with him at least. So while you took birth control to prevent another pregnancy that would result in you being stuck even more than you already were. Yet another reason that would make you feel the need to stay.

As you entered the convenience store, you bought a pregnancy test and water. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it at home, so you took it in the store restroom. Even with birth control, there was always the chance that you could become pregnant still and while you didn’t experience any symptoms with your daughter, you found yourself becoming nauseated as the days went on, so you were worried. You couldn’t let your fiancée find out because then you’d end up underneath him every night to make sure you would become pregnant. You were thankful that you kept your birth control a secret from him, feigning an illness when you received the implant so you would never be worried. Unfortunate for you that you were.

As you washed your hands in the sink, you thought back to 7 years ago.

You walked along the halls of your high school after school while you waited for your brother, Alexis Ness, to finish practice. He asked for you to wait for him so that the two of you could go home together…after accompanying his friend Michael. You were supposed to stay near the field, but you got bored watching the guys kick a ball around. Or the one man who believed he was better than the rest, even your brother.

Not wanting to watch your brother subject himself to be treated like a dog, you snuck away during a play.

You love your brother, you absolutely do. He was just very protective of you. If anyone thought he was serious about Michael, it was worse with you. He wouldn’t hesitate to threaten any guy who came up to you, good intentions or bad. It made dating hard and you wanted to be able to experience your first boyfriend. Hell, you’d take a first date.

Passing by the classrooms lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand grab your arm and pull you backwards and into a hard body. Looking up behind you, you met the owner of the hand and body, who looked to be a couple of inches taller than your brother and he had an attractive smile.

Letting you go, he stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck while you turned around to face him, keeping silent. You didn’t know who he was but you guessed he had to find a workaround to talk to you since your brother scared away just about every guy in your grade.

“Sorry.” He apologized. “I saw you and didn’t know how else to get your attention without alerting your brother.”

You were right.

“It’s ok.” You responded, giving a smile. “My brother can be scary when he wants to be.”

He laughed and the sound of his laughter made your heart flutter.

“Yeah, he’s never said anything to me, but I’ve heard a lot of stories so I figured my best bet to talk to you was to wait until you were alone. N-Not that I was following you or anything, I was in the faculty office.”

Your smile widened.

“Uh huh. Sure.” You teased.

It felt nice talking to him. While your experience with talking to guys was limited to your brother, this conversation felt easy.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?” He asked.

You glanced over at where the football field was to see if practice was still ongoing. It looked like everyone was starting to disperse causing you to feel nervous. Once Alexis saw that you weren’t around, he was going to lecture you.

Looking back at the man in front of you, you nodded.

“Sure! Sounds fun!” You agreed, taking out your phone and handing it to him so that he could add his number.

As soon as he handed you your phone, it began ringing as if Alexis knew that your phone had been handed off to someone. You immediately answered and waved goodbye before you turned and walked towards the field.

“What’s up Alexi?” You greeted.

“Y/N where are you? I told you to stay near the field. What if someone kidnapped you while you weren’t around?!” Alexis lectured in a panicked voice.

Rolling your eyes, you exited the building only to find your brother running around in a panic while Michael was watching him in amusement. Laughing, you waved to get his attention. Alexis looked at you and ran as quickly as he could, enveloping you in a hug that caused you to groan when he body slammed you. Alexis leaned back and held your cheeks in his hands and it was evident he teared up from worry.

“Alexi, I'm fine. I got bored.” You explained. “So I was in the halls.”

“What if a pervert found you? Like one of the teachers?” Alexis responded with furrowed brows.

A chuckle was heard behind you as Michael appeared, which caused you to furrow your brows and glare at him.

“Let her be, Ness. You can’t ask her to sit there every day and expect her to not be bored.” Michael said, giving you one of his signature smiles, which caused you to roll your eyes.

Alexis dropped his hands and smiled at Michael, his cheeks tinted pink.

“You’re right! I can’t be overprotective all the time, especially during practice when I need to focus on giving you a great pass.”

You inwardly groan.

It was that day that brought you to your current predicament. That guy that was shy and sweet is now your abusive fiancée.

You were aware of his anger problems, especially mixed with his narcissism since back then. But he never laid a hand on you until right before you broke up.

It was a stupid argument that was so stupid you couldn’t even remember what it was about. But whatever it was about caused him to give you one good slap to your face. You held your hand to your cheek and stared at him in disbelief before you broke up with him and ran off.

You were scared Alexis would find out so you avoided going home for a while until you were sure your brother would be in his room.

What you didn’t expect was to run into Michael Kaiser. He had exited a coffee shop and you ended up walking into him because you weren’t paying attention; you just wanted to get away.

His trademark smile formed as soon as he saw you, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. His brows furrowed and he gently placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head to the side to look at the fresh red mark on your face. Tears threatened to fall as he stayed quiet.

“Please don’t tell Alexi…” You whispered.

“Give me one reason why.” Michael answered sternly. “Or better yet, give me the name of the person who did this to you, liebling.”

Your eyes widened. You had never seen this reaction off of Michael. He had always had a carefree attitude. Looking away from him, you moved his hand away.

“I just know how protective he is of me. It was just a silly argument and even then, I broke up with him.” You bit your bottom lip as the tears formed in your eyes once again.

Michael stared at you not saying a word. It felt suffocating to you and you just wanted to run off. You didn’t even like this man but the simple action of him getting angry on your behalf caused butterflies in your stomach. It felt like an eternity passed before you heard Michael sigh as if he’d come to a conclusion in his head and didn’t like the thought.

“Alright, I won’t tell Ness.” He said.

You looked at Michael, the shock evident on your face. This was something else you didn’t know about him. You were sure he was going to tell your brother. He definitely seemed like the type who would at least hold it over your head.

“In return,” He said, gently taking some of your hair and bringing it to his lips. His usual smile on his face as he looked directly into your eyes.

Oh boy. You were tired of being right.

“Let me treat you today. You need to see how a real man treats a woman.”

Despite the disgust you felt, your cheeks were tinted pink.

Sighing, you recognized your utter defeat. If you didn’t do what he said, he would tell your brother. You would rather deal with him than the wrath of your brother.

“Fine.” You answered in a monotone.

Michael chuckled and winked before letting your hair fall.

“Braves Mädchen.”

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his response even when it made your chest tighten. You would never admit he had his charms. He annoyed you to no end.

Michael had successfully distracted you from that day and you were able to move on. Then 3 years ago, your ex came back into the picture.

Because you originally blocked him after that breakup, he couldn’t get in contact with you and as soon as he saw you at random, he got on his knees and apologized.

When you decided to hear him out, he told you after he hit you, he realized his anger was out of control and he went to therapy to better himself. He told you he had changed and missed you.

So you took him back.

And you saw that he did change. His anger was controlled around you and he treated you much better.

Until the day he proposed after your daughter was born.

Sighing at the memory, you picked up the pregnancy test and looked at the results: negative. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, not realizing how much tension your body was holding during those few minutes.

Throwing away the test, you exited the bathroom and rubbed the bridge of your nose before colliding into someone. You really need to pay attention.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologize without looking at the person.

“Liebling?” A familiar voice called out, causing you to immediately look up and find the familiar blonde in front of you.

“Michael?” You breathed.

masterlist | chapter 2 ⤠

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velvainee · 8 months ago

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✦ ⎯⎯ ㅤִㅤ ୭ 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 ( dr.wick x reader )

ᨳ ꒰ précis ꒱. oneshot. In 2236, Dr. John Wick leads "Wick Industries" in human experiments to extend life and youthfulness. But behind the facade of progress, test subjects like you are unknowingly involved, their consent ignored.

୨ৎ warnings. manhandling, non-con, forced relationship, breeding, evil intent, large age gap, p in v, blackmailing, mentions of blood, torture, bdsm, size kink. dead dove. do not eat. 2.6k words.

𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, this is my first fic on this blog ! please excuse any mistakes and lmk if you like it, reblogs comments & likes are very appreciated! if you have any requests for another fic don’t be afraid to reach out. ( has not been proof read ) !

As you step into the sterile corridors of Wick Industries, the faint hum of machinery fills the air, a constant reminder of the scientific endeavors unfolding within. It's 2236, an era where the boundaries between progress and ethical considerations blur into a murky haze.

You find yourself here not out of choice, but out of dire necessity, your financial woes pressing upon you like a weighty burden. Volunteering as a blood donor is your ticket to survival, a means to secure the funds desperately needed to support your ailing mother and keep a roof over your head.

You needed the money, your mother's illness draining your savings faster than you could replenish them, while the relentless march of automation threatened your livelihood in the retail sector.

With each passing day, the gap between what you earned and what you needed widened, leaving you with little recourse but to turn to unconventional means to make ends meet.

A giant in the industry, Wick Industries looms large in the landscape of scientific research, its reputation as a leader in biomedical advancements drawing both admiration and scrutiny.

When news broke of their call for volunteers to participate in cutting-edge experiments aimed at extending human youth, you saw it as an opportunity—a chance to alleviate your financial woes while contributing to the greater good. Little did you know the true cost of admission into this world of scientific ambition and moral ambiguity.

Entering the facility, you're greeted by the sight of a bustling lobby, volunteers milling about in varying states of anticipation and apprehension.

The air is charged with nervous energy, a palpable undercurrent of uncertainty running through the crowd as each individual grapples with their own reasons for being there.

At the registration desk, you join the queue, your heart pounding in your chest as you inch closer to the counter.

The old woman behind the desk is brisk and efficient, her voice a steady rhythm in the cacophony of voices around you.

“Next,” she called out, an old woman behind the counter waved her hand, urging you to move forward.

“ID?” She spoke. Your hands making their way into your little pink hand bag as they shuffled to take out your wallet, waiting for the nod of approval before tucking your things back into your purse.

“Third door down the hallway to the left,” she directed.

Guided by her directions, you navigate through the maze-like corridors of the facility, the sterile environment and the click of your heels against the polished floors adding to the surreal atmosphere.

The waiting room is a sea of faces, each one bearing the weight of their own struggles and uncertainties, their eyes betraying a mixture of hope and trepidation.

As you take your seat among the other volunteers, you can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie tinged with unease. The steady stream of departures catches your attention, prompting a question to the person beside you.

“Why are people leaving?” You ask.

Their answer, though matter-of-fact, does little to assuage your growing apprehension.

“I hear the doctors are looking for a specific blood type within the volunteers,” the man next to you replied, his eyes going back to the bright screen of the phone he held.

Amidst the ebb and flow of volunteers, two figures emerge, their presence commanding attention as they make their way down the line of chairs. The older man's piercing gaze sends a shiver down your spine, while his companion's whispered exchange only serves to heighten your sense of foreboding.

When they finally reach you, the weight of their scrutiny feels suffocating.

The bearded man leans in to murmur something inaudible into his assistants ear, the man’s eyes flicker in your direction.

“Her,” he whispers slightly, their eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

As their stares bore into yours, the man’s assistant gestures for you to stand, and you comply, feeling a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. With a barely perceptible nod from the older man, they lead you away from the crowd, down a series of sterile corridors lined with gleaming metal doors.

Down the labyrinthine corridors you go, each step bringing you closer to the unknown. The air grows colder, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and trepidation. What awaits you behind those imposing doors remains a mystery, one that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness with relentless persistence.

Finally, you come to a stop before a nondescript door, its surface devoid of any indication of what lies beyond. With a silent exchange, the older man and his assistant confer, their words lost to you in the deafening silence of the corridor.

As the door slides open, revealing a sterile room bathed in harsh fluorescent light, you steel yourself for what comes next.

Alone in the room with these enigmatic figures, you can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Their welcoming smiles offer little comfort, their words ringing hollow against the backdrop of uncertainty that looms over you like a dark cloud.

"Welcome," the man with the clipboard begins, his voice a mere whisper in the vast emptiness of the room. "My name is Dr. David. Thank you for volunteering,”

As the assistant quietly slips out of the room, leaving you alone with Dr. John Wick, a sense of unease settles over you like a heavy blanket. Yet, in his presence, there's a strange calmness that washes over you, his reassuring smile and soothing voice momentarily easing the knots of tension in your stomach.

"Please, have a seat," he gestures towards a chair, his tone gentle yet authoritative. You comply, sinking into the plush cushion as he takes a seat across from you, his piercing gaze never leaving yours.

"Let me assure you, you're in good hands here," he begins, his voice smooth as silk. "Wick Industries is at the forefront of groundbreaking research, and your participation in our experiments is invaluable."

Despite his words, a nagging feeling of apprehension lingers at the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced. Yet, you push it aside, clinging to the hope that perhaps this is just the opportunity you've been waiting for.

“I’m Dr. Wick—but please, call me John,” He gives you a charming grin once more, reaching out his hand for you to shake.

As he continues to speak, his words seem to fade into the background, your focus shifting to the way the harsh fluorescent light casts shadows across his angular features.

“Tell me about yourself,” he speaks up once more, trying to strike a conversation with his patient.

There's something magnetic about him, something that draws you in despite your better judgment.

“There’s not really much to me,” you chuckle softly, a pink shade flushing against your cheeks.

“I work in retail—heard of the small cafe Allure? Im a barista,” you say bluntly, as if you were having a normal conversation with your friend.

“Ah really?” John turns to you, his brown eyes boring into yours. “I’ll have to try it sometime, I’ve never been,” he revealed.

Your conversation starts to become more intimate, sort of like you’re speaking to a therapist.

"You're special, you know," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "There's something about you that sets you apart from the others."

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. His proximity is intoxicating, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting.

“People don’t usually say that about me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, yet you felt cared for, embracing the feeling of praise.

“A shame for such a pretty girl like you,” He jokes, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, his charisma and intelligence captivating you in a way you never expected.

As he shares stories of his past achievements and future aspirations, you can't help but feel a sense of admiration for the man before you.

But beneath the surface, there's a tension that simmers, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air between you. You can sense the shift in his demeanor, the subtle change in the way he looks at you, as if seeing you for the first time.

As the conversation lulls, he rises from his seat, his movements fluid and purposeful. With a slight smile, he disappears into the adjacent room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Minutes pass, the silence broken only by the soft hum of machinery in the distance. And then, he reappears, a small vial in his hand.

"I've prepared something to help ease the discomfort during the blood extraction process," he explains, his tone reassuring. "It's a simple elixir, but it should make the experience more bearable."

You nod, accepting the vial with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. As you raise it to your lips, you can't help but wonder what exactly is in the concoction he's given you.

But the pain of the extraction process looms large in your mind, overshadowing any doubts or reservations you may have.

With a deep breath, you swallow the elixir in one swift motion, its taste bitter and metallic against your tongue. And then, as the liquid courses through your veins, a wave of dizziness washes over you, your vision blurring at the edges.

You reach out for support, but John is already there, his strong arms catching you before you hit the ground.

Your head throbs, the sensation reverberating through your ears as you grimace in pain, your face contorted in a grimace as you watch the overhead lights flicker rapidly.

Panic surges within you, your heart racing as you realize your arms are restrained above your head, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into your skin. Your feet barely brush against the worn tiles below.

"What the hell?!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with fear. Memories elude you, leaving you disoriented and bewildered.

Surveying your surroundings, you find yourself in a stark white room, its pristine walls offering no solace. A single door stands in the corner, ominous in its silence as you hang suspended in the center, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the sterile space.

Suddenly, the door creaks open, revealing Dr. John Wick as he steps into the room. Clad in gloves and his white coat, he exudes an unsettling air of authority as a wave of realization washes over you.

"What's happening?!" you demand, your voice trembling with uncertainty as fear grips you tightly.

"Hush now," John soothes, his voice calm and measured as he approaches you.

Despite your frantic struggles against the chains, he moves closer, his hand deftly manipulating a remote control in his grasp. With a click, the chains lower, the sound of metal clanking echoing in the sterile room as your body descends.

“I didn’t lie about how you were special,” he smiles creepily, now eye level with the man as he lifts your chin slightly.

“We just need to text you for some experiments, nothing too big,” he added, hot tears already brimming your waterline.

“P-Please get me out this isn’t what I signed up for—“ You whined, your wrists still trying to undo the chains that bound them together.

“I’m sorry but I cannot do that. You’ll be my little test bunny for today, is that alright with you, love?” He chuckled softly.

You shriek, tears already streaming down your cheeks as John’s fingers stroke against your jawline.

“You wouldn’t want to let your poor mother die now, would you?” He whispered, leaning into your ears as you grit your teeth, jaw clenching.

“Your mother has been transferred to a better hospital—under my industry. Resist and you die, let me use you this once and I’ll ensure your mother’s safety,” he’d add.

Before you are able to say anything, he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapping it around your head.

Your body stops shaking, your mother was at risk and you were unable to do anything.

He first took a knife from the steel cart that was placed against the wall across from where you were, his movements precise as you felt your clothing slither from your body, down your legs and eventually onto the ground.

Unable to resist, you stood there, crying, your makeup making marks on your cheeks as you shuddered from the embarrassment you felt as you were exposed to the older man.

“So young, so beautiful,” his voice tantalizing as he admired your curves, his hands starting to graze against your skin, the goosebumps visible from your fear.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s only procedures,” he teased, before pushing the button on his remote once more, your body lowering down as you gazed up at the man like a dog.

His fingers made their way under your chin, lifting them up slightly before he slowly undid the handkerchief.

“Please don’t scream, you’ll only make it harder for yourself,” he rambled, his lips now pressing against yours as you moaned in both surprise and disgust.

His tongue swirled with yours, the both fighting for dominance as he held your jaw in one hand, the other one starting to undo his pants.

John’s eyes glinted with a cold detachment as he advanced towards you, his movements deliberate and predatory.

“I promise, you’ll like it,” he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he surveyed your trembling form.

You tried to protest, but the words caught in your throat as he pinned you against the wall, his hands rough and possessive as they roamed over your body.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he leaned in close.

“Resistance is futile.”

You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the fear that gripped your soul.

“Please,” you whispered, but the desperation in your voice only seemed to amuse him.

With a smirk, he silenced you with a bruising kiss, his lips crushing yours with a ruthless intensity that left you gasping for air.

And as he claimed you as his own, you found yourself surrendering to him completely, your body a playground for his darkest desires. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your veins, your cunt throbbing with a mixture of agony and ecstasy.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else - a twisted kind of love that dared not speak its name.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he watched you squirm beneath him.

You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his touch ignited within you.

With a guttural grunt, John released his load deep inside your cunt, his cock throbbing with the force of his climax. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of pleasure from his pulsating shaft as he claimed you as his own.

“Take it, you filthy whore,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he buried himself inside you.

“You like being used, don’t you?”

You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his rough treatment ignited within you.

Each thrust was a reminder of your submission, a testament to the depths of your depravity.

As he reached his peak, his grip on you tightened, leaving bruises in his wake as he marked you as his property.

“There we go little bunny,” he sneered, his words a cruel echo of the pleasure that coursed through your veins.

And as he finally pulled away, leaving you empty and spent, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. In his arms, there was no room for love or tenderness, only the raw, unbridled passion of two souls consumed by darkness.

♡ 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑

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literary-motif · 7 months ago

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Expectations

Kayson x Reader

The meeting with your parents doesn't go well. Kayson picks up the pieces.

You were trembling, doing your utmost to blink away the tears and keep walking. The world around you felt very far away, and the pavement beneath your feet seemed less solid with every step.

You held onto the railing to steady yourself, never stilling your steps because you knew that once you stopped walking, you would fall apart completely.

The harsh words your parents had spit at you still echoed in your mind.

They had discredited all the work you did, making a mockery of your struggles. It felt like a knife sheathing itself deeper and deeper into your chest, piercing your heart.

“You don’t ‘work hard,’ so stop complaining,” your mother had said, taking a sip of her tea as her judgemental gaze seemed to analyze and pluck you apart. “If you worked hard, you’d have it all figured out by now. It’s time you start concentrating on the important parts of life and stop wasting your time with frivolous things.”

She had been referring to Kayson, of course, and the thought that they still saw him as an inconvenience — the man who called you ‘perfect,’ the person who always had your back no matter what, who would pluck the pen from your hand when you worked yourself into the ground — had made your blood boil with anger and resentment.

How dare they look down on the best thing that ever happened to you? While they put weight on your shoulders for years, crushing you slowly under all their expectations and demands, Kayson worked inexhaustibly to free you from that suffocating weight and make you feel as light as air.

You had clenched your jaw, resolved to defend him and tell them just how great of a person he was. They had had it backwards anyway. If it hadn’t been for Kayson offering his support and being your crutch when the world got too overwhelming, you would not have performed half as well as you did.

“Actually, I am—” you had begun, only to be cut off by your father clearing his throat and setting down the essay you had given him on the kitchen table.

“It doesn't matter,” he had said, waving a hand in the air dismissively, “everything you do right now is useless anyway.”

The argument you had been trying to make slipped from your mind as your heart dropped. You had looked down at your history essay, willing the burning feeling in your throat to disappear as waves of shame and embarrassment had washed over you.

Why had you shown it to him in the first place?

“The essays you write are entirely irrelevant. Your marks on midterm papers, superfluous knowledge on ancient civilizations, all completely useless,” he had said, setting his cup of tea down on the pristine white paper and leaving a stain.

You had wondered then if the high words of praise from your professor — congratulating you on the excellent research you had done and expressing their pride at the student you had become — had been rendered illegible by your father’s carelessness.

“Listen here. What matters is only the degree,” he had continued, raising a finger as if to lecture you, “Only the marks at the end of your academic career. That’s what’s relevant for the real world. That’s the only thing you should care about. It’s the only thing that matters in all of this.”

Your mother had agreed, adding a few biting remarks about being stuck in your ivy tower for far too long and having forgotten the importance of putting your knowledge to practical use and making money.

You had left quickly after that, making up an excuse about having to cover a shift for your coworker. Still, you were proud that you had not allowed them to see the tears falling from your eyes as soon as your back turned and you disappeared behind the entrance door.

With stifled sobs and shaking shoulders, you had begun your way back home, but the biting words and harsh remarks had grown louder and more oppressing in your mind until all you could do was hold onto the railing and allow the tears to fall as you bit your lip and looked into the water of the Thames.

You wanted to curl into a ball and sob, hide yourself under a sea of blankets until the world disappeared and there was nothing left of you. You wanted Kayson to wrap his arms around you and reassure you that everything would be alright.

Retrieving the phone from your pocket, you looked at your lock screen, the two of you smiling happily at the camera. It made the lump in your throat thicken, knowing your happiness was frivolous to your parents.

There was a bench a few steps away. You shakily walked towards it and dialed Kayson’s number. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, perfect,” he said cheerily, the pet name making fresh tears gather in your eyes. “What’s up?”

Your lower lip wobbled. Curling into yourself, you could not suppress a sob. The entire situation had become too much.

“Hey, hey. Are you alright? What’s going on?” Kayson’s concerned voice came from the other end of the line. You wanted to kick yourself for making him worry.

“Parents,” you croaked, wiping the tears from your eyes. You felt pathetic, crying on a bench in public because your parents had told you some ‘harsh truths,’ as they liked to put it. “I’m fine, I promise,” you said hoarsely.

“Where are you?” Kayson asked, his voice muffled as you heard shuffling and a closing door. “Where are you, Perfect? I’ll pick you up, yeah? I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t bother. I’m fine, really,” you lied, running a hand over your face to disperse the tears that would not stop coming. The gratitude you felt for him was quickly swallowed by guilt. He shouldn’t have to put up with this, not with you and all your fractured parts, nor with your parents and their biting remarks. He did not deserve any of this, and you certainly did not deserve him. “I’ll get home in a bit, just— don’t inconvenience yourself on my account.”

“Where are you?” he insisted, his flat but urgent tone accompanied by his steps on the sidewalk. “Tell me, please. Otherwise, you leave me no choice but to search all of London for you. I can, you know. And I will, if I have to.”

Despite the tears streaming down your face, you smiled. “Fine,” you sighed, wiping your eyes and looking around. “Uh, I’m by the Thames” — Kayson’s footsteps halted suddenly, resuming a moment later — “next to the park we kissed in after going to that restaurant you wanted to try.”

“I know where. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

You could hear the even thuds of his hurrying steps, and despite the guilt you felt at making him worry, the relief of him coming to get you was enough to put you at ease for now.

“I—” you began, trailing off. “Would you mind?” Kayson chuckled as if the idea of him minding anything that comforted you was absurd. “It helps when I hear your voice. You make me feel safe and— and loved,” you admitted, looking out across the river and wiping the tears from your eyes. Talking to Kayson never failed to calm you down.

“That means I’m doing everything right, then,” he said, slightly out of breath. It dawned on you then that he had been running this whole time.

“Kayson, be mindful of the traffic,” you warned, frowning slightly, “and don’t overexert yourself. I’m fine. There’s no need to sprint to me!”

He laughed, and the warm feeling settling in your chest at hearing his amusement was enough to wipe every thought of your parents’ harsh words from your mind. “You know I’m in shape, don’t worry,” he said, before adding teasingly, “I’d fly to you if I could, like a, hm” — he thought for a moment — “like a phoenix.”

“Out of the ashes, yeah?” you quipped. “The ashes of the cigarettes you used to smoke?”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, his steps slowing gradually. “I think I see you. Are you on the bench? I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” The line went dead just as you heard Kayson call out to you.

Getting up, you smiled instinctively when you saw Kayson. He opened his arms to draw you into a tight hug. “There was no need to run,” you said, words muffled against his shoulder. Still, you were immensely grateful for having him with you now.

“There was every need,” he said, squeezing you tighter. “You sounded distressed. How did the meeting with your—?” his question trailed off as he saw the crinkles you had made in your essay, clutching it in bitter disappointment.

He sighed, prying the paper from your hands gently and smoothing it out as best as he could. He paused at the stain, and you could feel the rumble of his chest as he scoffed.

“Hey,” he said, loosening the hug as he hooked a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “They don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the sad look in his eyes at seeing your efforts dismissed so carelessly, nearly hidden by his fond expression.

Leaning forward, you met your lips to his. You tried to convey all of your emotions through it alone as words would forever fall short of expressing just how grateful you were for him. “I love you,” you said simply as you broke apart. “Thank you for coming.”

“I will always be there for you when you need me,” Kayson said, the adoration in his eyes as he looked at you stealing your breath. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand and shooting you a genuine smile. “Let’s get you home, Perfect. I made dessert.”

#sakuverse #zsakuva #kayson x reader #zsakuva kayson #kayson

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fanfics4all · 14 days ago

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What Best Friends Are For

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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1332

Warnings: Mentions of someone dead and being caught up in shady shit

Y/N: Your Name

Prompt(s): I did this based on this post!

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I stood in front of Spencer’s door, my heart pounding harder than it ever had. I could feel the cold creeping through my bones, but nothing compared to the chill of fear gripping me inside. I wasn’t sure he’d even recognize me after all this time, sure we talked all the time, but it’s still been so long since we’ve seen each other. But I had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe, nowhere I trusted. Just Spencer.

When the door opened and I saw him standing there, I couldn’t help but see a rush of relief wash over me. His face softened and his familiar, warm eyes widened as he looked me over. I saw concern flicker there almost immediately, but he just stepped aside and invited me in.

The warmth of his apartment was a stark contrast to the icy night outside, but it couldn’t chase away the dread that had settled deep in my chest. I felt his presence at my side as he followed me to the couch. It took everything in me to not break down right then and there. Instead, I forced a small smile and sat, clasping my hand tightly in my lap.

“Do you remember when we were little, and I asked you if we’d always be friends?” I asked, looking up at him. Spencer smiled that gentle smile that I remembered so well. My heart ached as I waited for his response.

“I said you could murder someone, and I’d still be your friend.” The warmth of the memory was fleeting.

“How well has that aged?” I asked, trying to hide the shake in my voice, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken whisper. His smile disappeared and his eyes filled with concern as he searched my face.

“What happened?” I looked down at my hands, trying to gather the corsage to say it. It was the whole reason I came here, wasn’t it? To tell him. To ask for help. I just didn’t know if he’d still look at me the same way again.

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” I managed, barely about to keep my voice steady.

“Something happened, Spence, something bad. And I’m… I’m scared.” His hand covered mine, his touch grounding me like it always had.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N.” He said and I felt his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. I forced myself to look up at him and I could feel my throat tightening with the words I was about to say.

“It’s just… things got complicated. I made some bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people…” I felt a tear slip down my cheek and I looked away, ashamed.

“And now… now someone’s dead because of me.”

The silence that followed felt like a thousand pounds on my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t bear to see disappointment or horror in his beautiful eyes. But instead, I felt his hand squeeze mine, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Tell me everything, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

“We’ll figure this out, together.” I felt another tear escape and this time, I didn’t hold back. I turned my hand under his, squeezing it. The tears came harder, all the fear and guilt I’d been holding back finally surfacing. But Spencer didn’t let go. He just kept his hand in mine. I took a shaky breath, trying to piece together where to even start.

“It was supposed to be simple…” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“A couple of new friends and I got caught up in this scheme, Spence. At first, it seemed harmless, a quick way to make some money. But things spiraled so fast…” I looked down ashamed.

“I didn’t know what they were really planning and by the time I realized… someone was already dead.” Spencer’s grip on my hand tightened. His gaze was fixed on me, his face still calm, but I could see the concern in his eyes deepening.

“Who are these people? Are you in danger?” I nodded, feeling my stomach twist.

“They know I want out now. I think they suspected I might talk, and I was scared to go to the police. I thought… maybe I could just come here. You’re the only person I trust.”

He took a deep breath and I could see him processing everything, analyzing every word I said. Spencer was a genius, that I knew. He’s probably already pieced together more than I could even say. Yet, he didn’t rush me. He let me speak at my own pace, his steady gaze holding me in place.

“You were right to come here.” He said softly.

“We’ll handle this. We can go to the police together and I’ll make sure they know you’re not involved the way they’ll think you are. You’re safe here, okay?” The certainty in his words made my heart ache differently. All I’d done was run to him, and yet, he was willing to risk everything just to help me.

“Thank you, Spence. I-I don’t deserve this kindness.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” His tone was gentle, but firm.

“I’d do anything for you, I always have.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. I noticed just how close he’d gotten. The world outside, the danger, faded away. It was just us, like when were were kids, the two of us finding safety and understanding in each other. I loved him then, in a way I didn’t fully understand, but now there was no denying what it was.

“Spencer…” I started, not knowing where to go with the words, but he seemed to understand, like always. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

“We can figure the rest out tomorrow, but tonight, just know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” I closed the space between us, pressing my forehead against his, feeling his warm breath fan my face.

“I love you…” I whispered, and before he could say anything, I pressed my lips against his. He didn’t hesitate to kiss me back.

“I love you too, Y/N…” He said when we pulled away.

“But, if you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?” He asked, his voice gentle but I could hear a bit of hurt. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. Shame and guilt clawed at me, knowing I’d chosen the riskier, more dangerous path instead of just talking to him.

“Spencer…” I whispered, looking down. My fingers were fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve.

“I…I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want you to see me like this… Desperate, needing help. I was afraid you’d think I was weak.” He shook his head, squeezing my hand gently.

“That’s not true and you know it.” He said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I would never have thought less of you. I would have done anything to help you, make sure you didn’t have to go through this.” His voice softened.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, to help you.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and he brushed it away.

“I thought I could fix it myself. I didn’t want to be a burden.” I admitted, my voice trembling again.

“You could never be a burden to me.” He said softly. A shaky breath escaped me, and I felt his arm slide around my shoulders, pulling me into a gentle embrace. I melted into his warmth, letting him calm me down.

“I’m sorry, Spence… I’m so sorry.” I muttered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek. He held me tighter, his hand brushing through my hair.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this together.” He whispered.

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