#i wrote this in one sitting and read it until i started to hate it
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lvrsfilm · 16 hours ago
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Johnny and Simon aren't used to domesticity beyond what they can give each other in the quiet of the barracks. They haven't been together quite long enough to share a leave the way they'd like to. But when you came along, and chirped about on one of your weekly calls to them about how they should both just stay at your flat in London when they come back, so the three of you aren't all separated, they couldn't say no.
They didn't know what to expect, duffel bags in hand and covered in grime, sticking out like weeds on the cleanliness of your doorstep. "Door's unlocked" you had told them over the phone when they said they were on their way. Simon does Johnny the favor of opening the door first, stepping inside to cover him as if they're still on the field. But they're not met with gunfire or yelling, not even empty silence. The television is on low, playing a random football (because it is football, birdie) match and the house smells of cinnamon and something hearty bubbling on the stove.
They aren't used to the excited call of your voice from the kitchen, the sound of soft, socked feet padding on the floor towards them. You in a large shirt (one of Johnny's,) and a pair of leggings. They're almost frozen when you take their bags, dropping them to the floor and pulling them both towards you for a hug while you murmur about how you missed them.
But they like it. It's not much different than a shared tray of food in the barracks, followed by a fitful rest on a too hard mattress pad and scratchy sheets. Except it is. It's a shared meal, home cooked, the best thing they think they've ever tasted. It's you checking them over for injury not so subtly as they scarf down their plates, daring to ask for seconds to indulge both themselves and you. A shower, for both of them while you clean up, hot water and soap that smells like you.
They whisper conversation in the shower, about how different and nice it is. Johnny does more of the talking than Simon, who scrubs Johnny's back the way he likes while he listens to Johnny ramble quietly about their lass. About when did she learn to cook like that? About how he never wants to go back to his place, how he could stay here and let her feed him his weight in roast until it was time to leave again. Simon who indulges him with nods and grunts, but who's really thinking about a neat glass of bourbon and having you two draped over his lap where he can bask in your shared warmth because in his mind he's already used to this. He already knows he wants more.
It's Johnny passing out on your couch, drooling onto the armrest, a leg thrown over Simon's lap and a full belly. You coming into the living room with a mug of hot tea for the man left awake. Sitting down next to him and leaning against his side, asking him questions about where work took them and if he needs anything while you comb your fingers through his damp hair, occasionally stopping to catch a stray drop of water with your fingers. Once the cup has gone cold and theres no liquid left, you let him sit in silence as well, not speaking, only lightly pressing your lips to the stubble of his jaw and whispering that you have a surprise for him. Leaving the living room and coming back with a bottle of his favorite. Whispering about how you asked Johnny to make sure this was the right one as you burrowed your way back under his arm. And as he presses a kiss to your forehead, traces circles along your shoulder with his fingers while the other holds the bottle of bourbon on his lap, he thinks Johnny was right.
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neil-gaiman · 7 months ago
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Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.
This is not an ask, rather an answer.
I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.
Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.
Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.
I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.
No one ever believed me. No one.
So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.
I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.
Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.
If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.
I did. I tried my best. I promise.
I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.
I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.
So I want you to know I know why they do it.
They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.
But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.
Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?
Simple.
You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.
I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.
My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.
Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.
Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.
And never stop talking about it.
Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”
When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.
Because you were my only friend. And you still are.
And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.
I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.
And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.
And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.
So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.
Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.
And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.
One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.
Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.
Leto
I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.
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likeumeanit9497 · 6 months ago
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please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
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ram-bles · 18 days ago
Note
HELLOOOO
I got a silly little ask, just a drabble from you would be fine 😁
Like- the reader (gender neutral) wasn't very open about their hobbies and such. One of their hobbies was like martial arts or smth (THIS IS VERY CRUCIAL ☝️☝️☝️)
Wellll, one day Jimmy (🤮) decided to try and touch the reader inappropriately and they just throw him over their shoulder saying something along the lines of "Do NOT touch me."
I KNOW IT'S CRINGE BUT PLEASEEEE, IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I saw you're writing for only Curly and Daisuke, but if you wanna you can add other characters into the mix. It's all platonic, just a silly little ask cuz I wanna laugh 😁😁😁
[ Tulpar Crew & Reader ]
Oh I love this one. Also this reminded me to update my list thank u 4 unintentionally reminding me anon.,.,. ALSO DONT WORRY I DONT THINK IT'S CRINGE !
gender neutral reader, it gets silly later on i promise. not proof-read. wrote this really quick.
⚠️ tw: stalking, jimmy being a little too forward and close
The day was pretty much mundane, like always. Everyone was in their designated work stations, including you of course. Though, something felt off. It had been like this for the past week, and you hated it. You even blamed your lack of sleep for it. It seemed like there was something— someone, watching and following you when you were alone.
One time, you'd even woken up to the sound of your quarter's door closing. You stayed up all night, not wanting to inconvenience the other crew members for what you think might just be all in your head. Well, that is until psych evaluation day came and you opened up about this to Anya who so easily believed you, but seemed so uncomfortable with the topic. You decided not to pry out of respect. She offers her company when you need it.
That same night, Daisuke offered to host a game session to which everyone reluctantly agreed to.
Establishing good bonds between workers is key to an efficient working environment!
Anya, Swansea and Daisuke were sitting by the sofa, Curly dragged a chair just beside the game table, whilst you and Jimmy sat beside each other on the floor. The game involved four players and the crew decided that whoever loses first has to swap with whoever hasn't played yet for the next rounds. The game was getting heated, Daisuke and Anya, neck on neck. Unfortunately, not the only thing neck on neck. Everyone else was too focused on the game to even notice what Jimmy was doing. You can feel his breath against your skin. You eyed the others in hopes that they would see. Too busy. Annoyed and grossed out, you elbowed his ribs in warning, glaring at him. "Jimmy, don't touch me." He seems pissed, but that doesn't deter him from getting his entertainment. Jimmy presses on and you swear you felt your eyebrows twitch. The balls of this guy to even do this here.
Daisuke throws the dice, the three leans in in anticipation as they watch it slowly roll to a stop and—
CRASH!
Some game pieces flew in different directions, two table legs snapping from the force and Jimmy's weight. It was radio silent for a moment. The crew having different variations of shocked expressions. You had grabbed his arm and flipped his body onto the furniture.
"Fuckin' pervert. Are you deaf, or what? I said do NOT touch me."
Daisuke threw his hands up in the air and settled it on each side of his head, frustrated. "Oh, come on, man! I was so close to winni—!" His whining ceases when Swansea nudges him, instantly shutting up and processing what had just happened. It took a few blinks for him to register and he eventually bursts out laughing and pointing at Jimmy. It took everything from Swansea not to burst out laughing as well. Instead, he crosses his arms and huffs with a proud smile. 'Atta' kid.'
Anya on the other hand slips out a gasp, covering her mouth. Mostly out of shock, and no sympathy for the man whatsoever. When the other intern started laughing, she had to bite her lip and look away to suppress her own fit.
[ History of glenohumeral joint subluxation.
It happened way too fast for Jimmy to even process what just happened. He spits out something hard, probably a tooth. His shoulder slightly stings as well, probably dislocated. He'll get back at you some other time, he can't get back at you when everyone else is here and that pisses him off even more.
Curly had mixed feelings. But of course, he prioritizes his role and he has to mediate everything first and foremost. Rubbing his face, he sighs and stands up, putting his hands on his hips. He calls your name and you tilted your head to look up at him. "I have to discuss... this with you later on. Please drop by the cockpit, yeah?" You roll your eyes and nod, pouting. "Swansea, could we borrow your intern real quick?"
"Shift's over, go ahead."
He gives the eldest a nod. "Daisuke, please assist Anya. Help her bring Jimmy to medical."
"Youuuuu got it, Big C." He finger guns towards the captain then stands up to hover over the co-pilot. Curly could only give Daisuke an awkward smile at the nickname.
"Never call him that again."
"El Capitano." Daisuke helps Jimmy up, making sure he's pulling them up by the injured arm, making the man grit his teeth and groan in pain. Before the guy could even cuss at the intern, Swansea continued bickering.
"Do your damn job."
"Yessir. Swansir."
Anya and Daisuke finally went off the bring the poor injured co-pilot to treat him. And if you'd like to know, Anya taught Daisuke how to pull Jimmy's shoulder back to place. Yes, everyone heard him when it happened.
You helped Swansea clean up the mess by the lounge and in apology, offered to help repair the table the next day. He agrees and even offers Daisuke to assist you.
Curly had to lightly reprimand you for your actions, but you'd explained to him what happened. The best he could do for you for now is lie on the report.
Sustained through occupational accident.
Employee confirmed inebriated while working.
Property damage docked to Jimmy.]
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justwritedreams · 1 year ago
Text
House Of Cards | San
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San x Reader, exes to lovers au!, mafia au!
Word count: 12.013 (hehe)
Genre: angst, suggestive, fluff at the end
Warning: mention of crimes and violence, suggestive, language, San in a pool bc that's a warning. If you don't feel comfortable DON’T READ IT!
Author: Maari
Note: Ok so that was an imagine that i wrote with got7 yugyeom but reading again i decided to repost with san, because i think it fits him more.
Summary: It seems like your ghost from the past came at the best time to save you.
Taglist: @foxinnie8
⪢ Ateez Masterlist
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“Miss Y/N.” She heard her own name echo through the corridor and turned around, coming face to face with one of the security guards whose name she hadn't yet memorized.
"Yes?"
“Mr. Kim wants to see you.”
She took a deep breath. She had just arrived at the hotel, he himself had told her to go up to the presidential suite
“Tell him I’m coming.”
“Now, miss.” His serious tone made her stop in her tracks and look at the security guard with some concern.
It wouldn't be good to go against Seungho's rules. It never was.
She nodded and followed him, the shower she planned to take would have to wait a little bit.
A while ago she would have sighed at the elegance of the hotel but unfortunately for Y/N, she was starting to get used to that life.
Well, used to wasn't quite the word. Conformed was more certain.
As she predicted, the security guard took her to a private area of the hotel, she was sure that Seungho had requested that only he frequent that place and with the great influence he had, it wasn't denied.
Y/N approached him alone and in silence, seeing him sitting in an armchair staring at the glass of whiskey he held.
"Wanted to see me?" She crossed her arms behind her body and swallowed hard when he looked at her.
She hated the weight of his eyes on her.
"Come here." he patted his own leg and she got the message, taking a deep breath before sitting on his lap.
Seungho ran his free hand down Y/N's back and stopped at the base of her lower back, the smell of alcohol was permeating his pores and it was enough for her to realize that this wasn't the first glass of whiskey.
Y/N didn't understand the sudden affection until he approached and kissed her lips, as always in a thirsty and quick way that caused absolutely nothing to Y/N.
Except disgust.
"You didn't call me here just to kiss me, did you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.
"No, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." he approached once more but Y/N immediately avoided it. "Alright, I need you to stay by my side while I partner up."
He held out the glass of whiskey and she held it, reluctantly, her brow furrowed.
"Why? You're not going to introduce me as your girlfriend, right?" His eyes dropped to the small neckline of Y/N's dress.
She would have shifted uncomfortably if she hadn't been in his lap, that might have given him ideas she didn't want him to have.
"Don't be silly, of course not." Seungho's cold tone didn't even shock Y/N. "You know women with your beauty make business easier."
She blinked and blinked, in disbelief.
"Do you want me to seduce a future partner?" she asked, not as incredulous as she would have been in the past. This had been quite common, actually.
"No, I don't want you to go to bed with him." He responded possessively and angrily. "I just want you to give us the privilege of admiring your beauty." his hand ran up the spine to the back of Y/N's head.
She took a deep breath, she hated having to do that ridiculous act but it wasn't like she could say no, she never could.
"Okay, I'm just going to change my clothes." She got up from his lap, she was ready to get out of there, but Seungho held her by the hip.
"No, he's already coming." Seungho got up from the chair and moved his hand away from her body. "You look pretty sexy anyway." he spoke quietly, making her understand that his partner was closer than she imagined.
She lowered her head to look at her own heels, she should have chosen another dress before going to the hotel. That one seemed too short for her own taste but what could she do if Seungho had liked it and the pair of black high heels?
She lived to please him.
Noticing that she was still holding the glass, she downed the whiskey in one go so that she could gain a little more confidence to do the dirty work.
"Mr. Kim." the partner spoke friendly and Y/N swallowed the alcohol, which went down her throat and felt her heart stop when she heard his voice.
She knew that voice…
"Please, call me Seungho. Sit down."
Y/N lowered her head and opened her eyes, watching as Seungho pointed to the front seat and the two did so, with shaky legs she sat in the seat next to Seungho's and her eyes stopped on the future partner's hands.
Years could pass, but she would never forget those hands, not when they showed so many times the love that their owner felt for Y/N.
With complete certainty that this was really who she thought, she raised her head after letting out a sigh and her eyes met his for the first time in so many years, making her press her fingers against the empty glass she was holding.
Y/N felt a mix of emotions, her hands started to shake just with his eyes fixed on her, she didn't fail to notice that he analyzed her quickly before turning his gaze to Seungho, she got goosebumps from head to toe and asked herself how could he still do that to her? And what was he actually doing there?
"Choi San, right?" Seungho asked, making Y/N return to reality.
"Correct."
"Your secretary called me."
"We are very interested in a partnership with you, Seungho. I believe it will bring benefits to both parties, as my partner has already explained everything to you." the two maintained a rigid posture but unlike Seungho, San was elegant.
Of course, the gray suit San wore was very different from the hoodies he had and that she remembered, it suited the formal atmosphere they were in but it went beyond his appearance.
San's aura was different, as he was ready for that.
"Yes, it was a very productive meeting."
"I'm just here to finish the deal." San quickly looked at Y/N and a smile appeared on his face.
This disconcerted her, and she left the glass on the arm of the chair and clasped her sweaty hands to try to hide her nervousness.
"Well, I can pay you the first million right now if you want." She rolled her eyes discreetly, Seungho loved showing off how rich he was. "Just a minute." He got up from the chair and looked at Y/N quickly, walking away, leaving her alone there and ready to collapse.
If Seungho wanted her to seduce San now, that was a bad time.
But it wasn't surprising since he had never learned to read the atmosphere when she was near, he never noticed when she was uncomfortable or happy, because for him it didn't make any difference.
She looked back at San, still feeling vulnerable about being in front of him again after so many years and took in every detail of his face that she had never been able to forget.
He was different. His face was no longer so thin and youthful, now his features were stronger, more masculine.
The black hair that she remembered falling into his eyes was now perfectly pushed back and the side cut made him look much more handsome and mature.
Even in a suit and tie, she could see that he wasn't as thin as he used to be.
He was no longer the boy she had known, he was a man and very attractive one.
Her body vibrated for her to come closer and she felt her fingers tingle to touch his face one last time, like she hadn't had the opportunity in the past.
He continued to analyze her from top to bottom, much longer, which made her tremble all over.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to find the courage to do what Seungho had told her to do.
"You're getting a great deal, you'll be very pleased." the attempt to use a seductive tone failed due to the way her body was reacting.
She looked like a robot programmed to say that.
“That’s what they say, but it’s not the business I’m interested in.” San seemed to know very well how to use his voice in a low tone and something inside her warmed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.
Y/N was left with no response and Seungho returned, probably thinking she had gotten what he wanted.
Little did he know that the spell had turned against the sorceress.
“What do you say we play poker while we settle the transaction, San?”
"It would be amazing." he got up from the chair and Y/N's eyes followed him.
She got up from the chair but made to go to the other side towards the uncovered part of that area, but she didn't even take two steps as Seungho held her arm tightly.
"Where do you think you're going?"
“I think the little act of being your luxury slut was enough for today.” she responded firmly and he tightened his grip on her arm, to the point of hurting it.
“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I want you by my side until the transaction is over.” His eyes were fixed on her face and for a brief moment, she was afraid.
Looking to the side, she noticed that San was watching them a little further behind Seungho, with his jaw clenched and with a rigid expression.
“I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you play that fuck poker that destroyed my life.” she turned her gaze to Seungho who now seemed to have understood. “You really like torturing me, don't you?”
“One day you’re going to have to stop blaming the cards, my love.” he let go of her arm, and Y/N controlled herself from crying.
It would be pointless and pathetic.
He walked away from her with a wry smile and passed by San, who stood there for a few seconds staring at Y/N until he shook his head and followed him.
She left there, feeling suffocated and her legs were shaking like never before, no longer able to control her tears, she leaned against the wall and looked at the clear sky, all the memories that she had been forced to bury came back with much more intensity.
[...]
7 years ago
“Get out of my house, please.” she begged without having the courage to look into his dark, gentle eyes, she would weaken if she did, especially if he was crying like her.
“Y/N, explain to me what’s going on.” he pleaded and she had to choke back a sob.
"It's over. Go away." She touched the door handle with her back to him, she was about to open it when he gently grabbed her arm.
“Something happened, right?" she took a deep breath before looking at him, feeling her heart break into thousands of pieces and sink into her stomach.
“What happened is that I don’t want you anymore, San. Don't insist." Her voice came out shaky and she knew she hadn't convinced him yet, she was about to break down in front of him but she couldn't. “We’re too young, it would never work.”
"Are you sure about that?" San slowly let go of her arm and looked at her completely lost.
She didn't respond, just opened the door with a silent message for him to leave.
No scene broke her heart like that when she saw him leaving with his head down, hands in his pants pockets and a tear running down his face.
She needed all the strength she didn't even know she had left to ignore the urge to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. Instead, Y/N closed the door and fell to the floor, now without needing or being able to control her crying.
She cried about so many things, she couldn't even list or understand what he cried most about, but she was sure she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
She had never felt so empty.
She was angry, scared, sorry and most of all, she was sad.
Because she had lost the only joy in her life, for a mistake that wasn't hers, for a decision that wasn't hers.
“Daughter…” Y/N looked at the stairs and saw her father coming down the steps, deflated and with a guilty expression.
She passed her hand over her face, drying her tears and got up from the floor. With long and silent steps, she walked past her father with the intention of locking herself in her room.
She would still have that night to sleep in her bed.
"I'm so-"
“Don’t finish that sentence.” She turned angrily, glaring at her father as she sighed. “I did what you wanted, now leave me alone.”
[...]
In recent years, Y/N has tried to erase that memory from her head. She didn't want to relive it like she did in the first nights when her life had changed, when she was brought back to reality with nightmares.
She didn't want to feel again the hurt she had towards her father for doing that to her and even less did she want to feel her heart break again when remembered San being devastated because she had broken up with him.
Even though she had managed to bury that day in the depths of her consciousness, that emptiness was always there.
And now here she was, being haunted by the ghosts of her past and crying like the heartbroken teenager she once was.
She wiped her face, thankful for her makeup being waterproof, approaching the balcony and surveying the bustling city.
A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She missed home, the happy moments she lived that were now just memories, she even missed her father. But mostly, she missed who she used to be.
The girl who had dreams and insecurities, which were always hushed up by San.
He was always everything for her, the kisses he distributed on her face and the convinced way he said that she would achieve everything she dreamed of, made her believe at the time.
She stayed there for a long time in silence, alone and without security guards watching her every step, making her feel free.
“It’s a wonderful view.” Y/N jumped in fright when she heard San's voice so close.
Looking to the side, she noticed he was next to her.
How and when did he get there?
“Yeah, the city is amazing.” she replied, still feeling her heart beating faster, she just didn't know if it was because of the scare or just because of him.
“I wasn’t talking about the city.” she felt San's eyes boring into her and a shiver ran down the back of her neck.
Since when was San so direct like that? Who had he learned to be like this from?
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing poker or something?” she changed the subject, still looking at the city.
“An hour ago I was.”
Y/N frowned.
Hour? Had she stayed there for an hour?
“So you closed the deal.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to look at him.
San nodded silently.
“You don’t seem very happy about this.” he smiled sideways, leaning on a pillar.
Happy? She didn't even know what that was anymore.
“I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” she shrugged, sighing.
“Why don’t you explain it to me?” San looked at her intensely and she returned it, unable to look away.
She could, a part of her screamed at her to do so, but she knew what she had to lose and she couldn't risk it, not now that he was there and she couldn't protect him from Seungho's fury.
"You wouldn't understand."
“Maybe I should warn you.” he took a step towards her while keeping his tone serious, without looking away.
“I'm not kidding, San. Be careful."
 Y/N's intention was to get out of there quickly, but he stopped her from continuing when he gently grabbed her wrist.
The contact made her stop, her heart beating faster. Feeling his touch again was everything she had asked for, being close to him was much more than she thought she deserved.
“So let’s be clear that I’m not kidding either.” She could practically feel his breath, his face was so close she could touch it at any moment if she stayed there. “In nothing I did or said today.” She swallowed hard and looked at him, seeing the conviction in his dark eyes and once again, she was left speechless.
She wanted to cry, for so many nights she had dreamed of those same eyes and it seemed like a dream that he was there so close to her and at the same time so far away, because even though he was the San she knew, he was no longer the same.
He had a certain power, a fire in his iris that she had never seen before, that she couldn't identify.
But it was very different from the way Seungho looked at her as if she were his property.
Y/N's eyes went down to San's lips, they looked extremely inviting and she wondered if it still tasted the same, the attention she returned to San's mouth didn't go unnoticed by him as he wet his lips with his own tongue.
Before she could get even closer to him, Y/N blinked a few times until she remembered where she was and who she was with, if Seungho arrived at that moment it wouldn't be good, especially for San.
Thinking about it, against every cell in her body she pulled away from San and his touch.
“Have a good day, San.”
She got out of there as quickly as her feet would allow her before she did something she would regret later, she didn't look back and was thankful once again that she was without security guards.
She arrived at reception and Seungho was leaning on the counter with his phone to his ear.
“Y/N!” he called with his free hand and turned his attention to someone else on the other end of the line. “Matt, I already took care of all that.” She approached him paying attention to the conversation, it was probably something related to their return. “You know she's good for much more than that. Okay, I’ll be there.” he hung up, huffing.
"Problems?" Y/N asked without the slightest interest.
“I have to receive a load today from the other side of town and they require my presence.” he informed, irritated.
“I’ll go upstairs and get our bags then.” she pointed to the elevator and was ready to go when he stopped her, raising his hand.
“No, Y/N.” he scratched his head and she knew something was wrong. “I haven’t finished the entire transaction with San yet.” she crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish. “And you know this hotel does business with me.”
"I know that."
That part of the city was heavily influenced by Seungho. Hotels, banks, even the hospital operated when and how he wanted.
“A luxurious dinner will be held to welcome Mr. Choi.”
“What’s all this-” she frowned.
“I need you to accompany him to this party and explain that I had an unforeseen event but we will finish tomorrow when I arrive.” he interrupted her and Y/N felt her expression fall.
Would she be alone with San for a whole night by his side?
"What?" She didn't want to show despair but it had become difficult after that. “No… I can’t… I can’t.”
Explaining to him what was really going through her head was out of the question.
“I need this partnership. Matt will be with me and you are the only one who can be here representing me.”
“Postpone receiving the load then.” she shrugged and he took a deep breath, visibly irritated. “I’m not you, I don’t have to deal with your business.”
It wasn't part of the role she had played in those years. For business, she was just the statue that if she winked at the partners, with the right clothes, she could make them close the deal faster.
Seungho was too jealous to let her be alone with a man for two hours, let alone an entire night.
This then meant that whatever the deal was with San, he didn't want to risk losing it.
Annoyed, he held Y/N by her arm with a somewhat unnecessary force, making her look into his eyes, to see that he was serious.
“I'm not asking you to accompany him, I'm ordering you to.” In fear, she lowered her head, giving up. “Don’t worry, my love.” He got closer and his mouth met her ear. “Tomorrow we will have all day to make up for the time we lost.”
She wanted to laugh but held back, sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
In fact, her mind was too busy with images of San in a suit.
[...]
Y/N spent the entire afternoon getting ready for dinner at the hotel with the help of a small team that Seungho hired to make her look magnificent.
Small because she had begged him, she wasn't a Hollywood actress after all, a football team taking care of her appearance for a simple dinner was unnecessary.
He had made it very clear before leaving that she must use every trick to convince San to wait until tomorrow. For Seungho, this was her only role, to seduce his partners.
Seduce, never go to bed with them.
Because for Seungho, she had to have her eyes focused only on him, and according to his theory, the more instigated to have Y/N, the more the partners would be committed to maintaining an agreement.
Basically, she was there to make these men fools, believing that one day they could have something with her behind Seungho's back.
At eight o'clock at night she was ready and couldn't deny that the job had been well done.
The red dress was long with a strap on one side and a detail at the waist that made it much more elegant, black sandals on her feet and ruby earrings that Seungho had given her, like the countless expensive jewelry she had been receiving in recent years.
She believed that he gifted her with expensive and luxurious things just to keep her with him, as if it made her wonder if she could live without flaunting the good life she had achieved.
Each piece of jewelry increased her indifference towards him, because it made her feel like she had been bought by him again.
The makeup had highlighted Y/N's face in an elegant way and she insisted on wearing red lipstick, she was trying her best to do the job, finally her hair was left loose but left aside.
She even tried to take a deep breath when she left the room but she couldn't lie to herself in that situation, she was nervous. More than that, she was anxious!
Seungho had left one of his security guards to take care of her, of course he wouldn't be that stupid, but when she arrived at the main hall and saw San smiling at some people he was talking to friendly, Y/N totally forgot about security or anything else.
It would be cliché to say that she couldn't take her eyes off him, but it was the truth, he looked wonderful. Breathtaking.
He wasn't as formal as he was in the morning, he was wearing a suit but without a blazer, just a black vest, the sleeves of his white blouse were rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons open and his tie was slightly loosened.
He had his hair pulled back but with a few strands in his face.
God, even if he tried hard for 20 years he wouldn't be able to get ugly.
San realized he was being watched and looked towards Y/N, smiling brightly at her and he came to meet her quickly.
“Miss Y/N.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, like a perfect gentleman and it was enough to make her heart skip a beat, and her legs tremble slightly. “You look gorgeous.”
She smiled restrainedly.
“Thank you, Mr. Choi, I must say you look really nice too.” she tried to keep her tone formal to keep the theater for security.
"Would you like something to drink?" he looked at the security guard and she understood what he was planning.
"Of course." she replied and he put his arm through hers, she looked at the security guard who was watching them closely. “You don’t need to follow me, I’m fine.” she ordered and he agreed, stopping where he was and San took her away.
“The compliment was true.” he said without looking at her face.
"So was mine." she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks burn.
“You got a babysitter from your boyfriend, huh?”
Y/N could feel the jealousy in his voice and it made her smile discreetly.
“The babysitter isn’t for me, it’s for you.”
They arrived at the mini bar and he ordered two drinks.
“Is he afraid you’ll fall for my charms?” he turned to face her and got closer, making Y/N get lost in his scent.
That was it, she was intoxicated by everything about him. The smell, his voice, the heat of his body, which wasn't enough because she knew he was much hotter than that, she just needed to get closer.
“Actually, he’s afraid you’ll run away.”
“And you’re here to make sure I stay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
She searched in her head a decent answer but all that came out was just the truth.
“I’m here to make you stay.” she said even though she wished she could do otherwise.
If she had the power, she would make San move far away from her and Seungho, for his own good.
“And how do you intend to do that?” he took a step forward, their bodies practically touching. It was incredible, it seemed like he could read her mind.
Because she wanted to get closer, enough to put her hands on his broad shoulders.
“He asked me to seduce you.” she replied quietly and couldn't take her eyes off his mouth.
“Can you do it or will I seduce you first?”
Y/N didn't imagine that San would be so sexy like that and as dangerous as that game was, she was loving it.
What she remembered was a much shyer and not so confident San.
She held back the urge to bite her lip.
“You’re going to need a lot more than whispers to seduce me.”
Of course, as if she could convince herself of that.
He had just approached her and she was already feeling weak in the knees.
“That’s what we’ll see.” San smirked and walked away at the exact moment the bartender brought the drinks.
He handed the drink to Y/N who drank some while observing the room.
She managed to identify at least three more Seungho's bodyguard, and it wasn't surprising since she knew he would never leave just one of his men watching her.
Not when she had already tried to escape from him a few times in the past, without success, obviously.
No matter where she went, whoever she asked for help, Kim always found her and brought her back.
She was so lost in her analysis that she didn't notice when San brought his mouth to her ear to whisper.
“Can I show you something?”
She suppressed a smile and took a deep breath before looking at him, seeing him smile so close to her.
His smile still had the same effect on her, as if the sun had risen in the cloudy sky. It was the light in the midst of darkness.
It wasn't like she had the strength to deny it.
He held out his free hand and she took it, being led out of the room soon after.
The party took place near the pool and only a thick, red curtain separated the two places, Y/N sighed as she observed the full moon, which was brighter than usual, she had never seen it so beautiful.
San let go of her hand only to sit on one of the lounge chairs, she turned to face him when she felt the touch disappear and came closer but still remained standing.
“What did you want to show me?” she asked, quite curious.
“Nothing, I just wanted to be alone with you.” he confessed, resting his hands behind his head after placing the drink on the floor.
Y/N swallowed hard at the movement, as his arms were in evidence and she thought it more prudent to remain silent, this time returning her gaze to the crystal clear water of the pool, feeling not only her cheeks heat up but also her heart.
It seemed like even if she wanted to bury the old version of her that night, she couldn't.
“I know it’s been years, but I want you to know that I never gave up on you.”
She looked at him at the same moment, San didn't take his eyes off her and spoke with such conviction that it left her speechless.
All she wanted was to be able to throw herself into his lap and kiss him all at once. Only if the situation had been different, if they hadn't met again like that...
But time wasn't fair to them, it wasn't in the past and it wasn't now.
“I think I prefer it when you flirt with me.” Unable to contain herself, she spoke out loud and wanted to beat herself up for it.
“I can do that too.” he shrugged, getting up from the lounge chair. “I can do a lot of things.” He got closer and she felt her body go still at the short distance. This was the time she should take a step back, right? “Especially the ones you want.” she felt his hand on her wrist, going up her elbow in a pleasant way and making goose bumps go up her arm.
Damn it.
Y/N held the glass tightly, trying her best to remember what she was there for and especially what she shouldn't do.
San noticed the tension and took the dronk out of her hand, ending the sudden affection, placing it on the floor but Y/N wasn't prepared for what would come next, thinking he would just stare deeply at her like he had been doing.
But one of his hands found her waist while his mouth found her cheek, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the warm skin.
“You shouldn’t tease me like that.” She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few seconds.
“Afraid to like it?” he asked close to her ear and his mouth went down to Y/N's chin, involuntarily one of her hands tightened on the arm that was holding her waist.
"This is wrong." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.
It was? Wasn't she on board with Kim's plan?
“But you want that." He bit her chin, and she could feel him smiling.
"No." although her mouth said something, Y/N's body said the exact opposite. She dug her nails into San's arm and felt her body getting weaker and weaker.
She mentally begged him to kiss her and end that miserable tension.
“Y/N…” she stifled a moan when she heard her name being spoken so quietly by San’s seductive voice.
It was wrong and dangerous, but why did it feel so right?
She felt that San was about to kiss her, she felt his breath against her mouth and no matter how much her rational side screamed for her to stay away, her emotional side was controlling everything because that was what she wanted from the moment she saw him in the morning.
She had missed so much being in his arms, feeling loved, protected.
She felt San's lips so close, her own hands going up to his shoulders and she was ready to give in, when his lips touched hers just enough to make a slight tickle, the image of Seungho with a gun appeared in her head.
"No!"
Y/N pushed San and suddenly he no longer held her, not even his perfume covered the radius they were in, she opened her eyes to find him startled.
She took two steps back, placing her hands on her forehead, now regaining lucidity.
What was she thinking? How could she think of putting him in danger like that?
“Don’t do that” she trembled, feeling her eyes tear up. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“But, Y/N…” he took a step towards her and she raised her hand, asking him to stop right there.
He obeyed, confused and hurt.
"You wouldn't understand." she shook her head to get the image of Seungho finishing him off from her mind.
“Maybe if you explained it I could.”
She ran her hand over her own arm, not knowing what to say. If he continued to insist, she would eventually give in and things wouldn't end well.
San followed the movement and his eyes stopped at a specific place.
“What’s that scar on your arm?” he asked and she automatically stared at her own skin.
Y/N blamed herself for not choosing a long-sleeved dress, mainly because the scar was recent so it was lighter and she hadn't even remembered about it.
"I need to go." Once again she deviated from the subject, if she continued there she would end up saying everything she shouldn't have and that was definitely out of the question.
She would never forgive herself if something happened to San because she had told him everything, even if that was her wish. To finally clear things up, after so long.
She ran out of there as best she could, avoiding passing through the room where that damn party was taking place and hoped that San wouldn't go after her, deep down she knew he would leave her alone after that outburst but she only became calmer when the elevator doors closed with a bang, her inside that cubicle.
Unable to control it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back for a long time fall, it seemed like an eternity before she arrived at the presidential suite.
She stumbled into the elevator because of her tears and took the opportunity to take off her heels right there, she no longer cared about her appearance as she had been taken care of for hours. Seungho's plan hadn't worked anyway so screw the party, the appearances and all that stupid luxury.
When she arrived, she threw her heels in any corner of the huge, cold room as she closed the door behind her, ran her fingers through her hair and took off her dress without any will.
All she wanted most was to lie in bed and sleep for a good twenty years.
And even she tried, she knew it wouldn't be easy to sleep that night, not after everything that had happened and to make even worse, everything she had tried to forget about the past was playing intensely in her head.
The memories she had with San, all the first times with him, from when they met until the day she broke up with him, her happy childhood and her difficult adolescence of having to deal with her father's addiction that affected the entire family.
Hugging the pillow, she let the tears fall again as she lay there alone once again, as it had been repeating since her father had spoken the harsh words that had changed her life.
[...]
It was already past 10 am when Y/N decided to leave the room and go to the pool, the weather was nice to take a few dips and that would help her forget everything that had happened, at least for a few hours until she was away from that hotel.
She put on a very simple white bikini, a long white button-down blouse so she wouldn't be walking around the hotel with nothing covering her body, white flip-flops and big glasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes from last night.
Luckily for her the pool area was empty and Seungho's security hadn't come after her so far, which meant she was free for who knows how long, she left her things on one of the sun loungers and her sunglasses were also left behind.
It didn't take long to enjoy the warm water, trying to wash away any traces of guilt and uncertainty.
After wetting her hair and swimming a little, she leaned against the edge, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin as if it were giving her strength back.
She tried not to think about anything, just wanted to enjoy some time she didn't usually have, alone and quiet with her own conscience.
She felt the water become more agitated but she didn't pay any attention, she was feeling so light that she didn't even care that someone was there too.
The pool was big enough for that.
However, when she realized that someone was too close, she couldn't help but open her eyes and look at whoever it was.
Y/N need to rest her arms on the edge of the pool when she saw San standing in front of her with a shy smile and no shirt.
She had a very privileged view of San's bare torso, she knew he had gotten stronger but she couldn't imagine how much and she couldn't even disguise the way her eyes observed San's broad and strong shoulders, going down his chest. She couldn't see his abs clearly because the water was getting in the way of having a clear view of how defined he was, but realizing that he was there in just black swim trunks made her lose her train of thought completely.
Even with the water distorting a little, she could see how thick his thighs were.
Okay, San had turned into a personification of some Greek god and she couldn't stop looking at him to burn every bit of him into her memory, which conflicted when she remembered what he was like in the past.
She had never imagined that he could be so… hot.
She cleared her throat, trying unsuccessfully to hide it, and looked away, missing the opportunity to see his raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” she spoke quietly.
“I was worried about you.” he admitted firmly and she swallowed hard.
“Let’s not talk about last night, please.” she pleaded, sighing and looking back at him.
San was serious, not mad at her, but he seemed to be trying to figure her out.
“We will need to talk one day, Y/N.”
“If that's why you came here…” she started to leave, but was stopped by San who put his arm on the edge of the pool and brought his body closer to hers, still without truly touching her. "What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be impatient.
He put his other arm on the other side, trapping her there and Y/N had nothing to do but look him in the eyes.
“Does he hit you?” it was simple and direct, making her jaw drop slightly.
"What…?" She released a breath that until then she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Who?" She tried to pretend she didn't understand.
San cocked his head to the side, only to stare at her more intensely.
“Kim Seungho.” he spoke the name between his teeth. “Does he hit you, Y/N?” he asked, this time his tone became more serious and his eyes locked with hers.
He already knew the answer without her even answering, but he wasn't going to give up so easily because the only thing he needed was for her to tell the truth and then they could find an alternative.
"No!" she replied desperately, her voice became even thinner. “I mean, where did you get that idea?” she crossed her arms, trying to be defensive but she was actually scared.
If San found out the truth, she didn't know what he might do.
“That scar wasn’t made for a silly reason and now seeing you in that bikini, in addition to seeing that your body is still beautiful, I can also see some purple on your legs and belly.”
She swallowed hard, trying to think quickly of a convincing answer.
“The scar… I've had it since, uh, I was a kid” she forced her throat to stop stuttering but his attentive eyes weren't helping. “and the purple ones… well, I’m very distracted.”
“Do you think I don’t remember all your scars, Y/N?” He brought his face closer to hers and she didn't have the strength to turn away. “I had the image of your body in my head for years, I remember every inch of you.” she felt her body shiver and sighed slowly. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. Please." he pleaded.
One of his hands touched Y/N's face, making a pleasant caress and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes when she felt the soft touch.
“That’s a low blow.” she spoke quietly, fighting her eyes that insisted on closing.
"And yeah?" she could feel he was smiling. “You know, I remember you loved a kiss below your ear.”
Of course she loved it mainly because only he knew about it.
She couldn't think about much or open her eyes because his mouth was already practicing what his voice announced.
Y/N put her hand on San's shoulder and found that the sun did a great job of warming their bodies, but their skin wasn't the only thing that was hot there.
Her hand squeezed San's exposed skin, suppressing a moan as she felt his breath right next to her neck. She was unable to reason with that sudden approach, nor even breathe properly like a normal person.
"So?" he asked, lips touched her skin as he spoke but Y/N was too lost in that sensation to remember what his question was.
San moved his face away and she opened her eyes at the same moment, missing the contact, he looked at her, urging her to respond.
"What?" was all she could say.
“Y/N, I’m waiting for an answer.” He raised an eyebrow and she felt her legs tremble again.
Her mouth suddenly became dry and she had to use her own tongue to wet it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by San.
“Do you think… I have the capacity… to talk after this?” she was panting and hadn't even kissed him.
San laughed softly, his dimple showing.
“Good to know I still have some power over you.” he said, cocky.
“It’s so much more than that, Sannie.” he smiled sadly at the old nickname. “I have always loved you and I will always love you.” her hands went to his face, making him look deep into her eyes. “But I can’t tell you, forgive me.” she said, seeing him take a deep breath. “Please don’t continue with this transition, cancel this damn partnership. This is all too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just…” she looked down, unable to continue, water was calm but a storm was still coming.
San brought a hand to her chin, making their eyes meet again.
"Just…?" he urged her to continue.
“I’m afraid of losing you again.” she confessed, straightforward.
San didn't say anything and neither did she dare continue, she had already said too much, he then brought his face closer to hers and ended that distance once and for all, Y/N could only close her eyes when San's soft and warm lips touched hers. So softly that it made her sigh against the kiss.
He didn't deepen the kiss or move his lips, he kept the touch for a few seconds that lasted for eternity and Y/N felt her eyes water even though they were closed, the hand that was still on Y/N's chin went down to her the back of her neck when he broke the kiss and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her mouth, she didn't even know how she was still standing.
Without the courage to open her eyes, because she knew she would cry like a child in front of him, Y/N didn't expect San to hug her so tightly that it sounded like a goodbye, the kind that leaves you breathless.
She grabbed him by the neck and rested her face on his shoulder while the tears ran down her face and got lost on San's skin, she could have stayed there hugging him forever.
San ran his hands down her spine and caressed her, feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Y/N closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of being safe even if for that brief moment.
The sun burning on their skin lasted as long as the hug, which none of them had any idea how long it had lasted, but it had been enough to strengthen Y/N.
“Never forget what I said.” she spoke quietly and walked away, feeling cold and empty again when she no longer had San's warmth surrounding her, and swam towards the stairs.
She wanted to keep that image of him smiling and welcoming her, that was the reason she didn't look back as she got out of the pool and picked up her things from where she had left them.
She hoped that one day San would understand why she kept a secret from him and who knows, he could even one day forgive her. 
She knew that she had hurt him in the past but it wasn't because she was cruel, she was just trying to protect the one she loved. Including San.
She looked at her feet on the way back to reception and was ready to go to her room, but that wasn't exactly what happened.
A pair of expensive shoes stopped in front of her, stopping her from continuing on her way and she would have been rude if she hadn't been taken by surprise.
Seungho was in front of her with his arms crossed and his expression not at all pleasant.
“Beautiful scene, I think it deserves applause.” his voice was cold and he didn't even blink, she knew what was coming next and even so it didn't stop her from starting to shake with fear. “I’m just going to ask once, what the fuck was that?”
[...]
Y/N tried not to sob loudly but despair and fear were speaking louder this time, she didn't even know which floor she was on and she couldn't even think about stepping into reception.
With all of Seungho's security guards downstairs, all that was left for her was to sit on the floor of one of the floors of that hotel while she felt weak and helpless.
She brought her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the sound but when she felt liquid in the corner, she pulled it away and stared at the blood on her finger.
Her blood wouldn't be the only one that would be spilled, she felt anger take over her body and rubbed her hand with the other to try to get the blood out.
“Y/N?”
She looked to the side and even though her vision was blurry because of her tears, she recognized San and sighed with relief. 
San knelt in front of her and touched her chin, the lighting in the hallway was low but it didn't stop him from noticing some things, Y/N brought a hand to San's face to make sure he was really there with her.
"What happened to you?" He made to put his hand on her face but decided not to when he saw the tears that were still flowing. "Come with me."
He picked her up slowly, Y/N felt her ribs throb but ignored it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door to one of the rooms, from which she could see that it was the one he was staying in. 
San placed her carefully on the edge of the bed and ran to lock the door, turning on the light in the room and Y/N's eyes watered even more.
In addition to irritation, shame too.
“Can you turn off the light, please?” her voice was weak and choked, she saw San's shoulders sag and looked away from him.
He did as she asked, leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned with a first aid kit.
Y/N took a deep breath and he approached, kneeling in front of her and held her gaze, when she saw that he wasn't going to say anything she looked at him and nodded, accepting that he would treat her injuries.
San did everything necessary and when she hissed in pain, he gently stroked her arm, looking closely at her.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” asked quietly after a quite time in silence, she noticed that he was controlling himself to remain calm.
Without the courage to respond and without any confidence in her own voice, she just nodded, listening to him take two deep breaths.
“How long has this been going on?” Y/N stared at him firmly this time, seeing him with his jaw clenched.
She wasn't ready to hear the answer but it was fair to him, even more so now that he was in danger.
"7 years." she replied quietly, shrugging her shoulders.
San got up from the ground, scratching the back of his head and then clenching his fists.
“That’s since…” his breathing got heavier. Since she had broken up with him, yes. “Y/N, you need to report this guy.” He knelt in front of her again and looked into her eyes, which were already teary again. “You need to step away.”
Carefully, San held her hands, bringing the comfort she needed at the moment.
"I can't."
"You must." he encouraged her and she shook her head, looking in any corner of the room.
“San, I can’t.”
"And why not?" he asked in disbelief.
“Seungho is influential. If I send him to jail for a few days, he might…” she trailed off, completely panicked just thinking about the possibility.
"Might what?" he instigated, he needed an answer and one that would convince him.
“Go after the one I love.” a sob was stuck in her throat. “You don’t understand, San. I have no choice, I can’t betray him, I can barely say no to him.”
He slowly pulled away and she took the opportunity to bring her hand to her face, wiping away the trail of tears.
Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her body was tired and she didn't know what to do. She was terrified.
"What do you mean by that?" He narrowed his eyes and she looked down, already knowing where he was going. “Can’t you say no to anything?”
She nodded silently.
It was difficult to speak out loud, even more so to relive everything she had been through with Seungho in recent years, even though she felt absolutely nothing for him other than contempt, touching those wounds hurt.
“If I dare to say no, this happens.” she pointed to her face.
San looked at her worriedly, his gaze more attentive than ever.
“Y/N…” she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. “Did he force you to do something you didn’t want to?”
San didn't need to say or emphasize the specific word because she didn't need to, she just lowered her head in shame. She couldn't look him in the eye.
"Yes." Y/N didn't even hear her own voice admit it.
All that seemed to have been enough for him, who was now shaking and keeping his hands clenched, the vein in his neck was popping out and he stared at the wall behind Y/N with hatred.
“I will kill him with my own hands.” he spoke slowly, getting ready to get up
"No!" she held San by the hand, preventing him from taking any steps. “San please don’t go.”
She despaired. That's what Kim was wanting.
After having "taught her a lesson", Seungho was very clear that he wouldn't stop until he killed San for having dared to touch what was his, for having had the audacity to kiss Y/N.
She couldn't even say anything, it wasn't like she was going to tell the truth about San's identity or else things would be much worse. Seungho wouldn't only kill San, he would torture him for finding out that he was the one she loved.
And she knew he wasn't joking, his bodyguards were in the lobby to make sure San wouldn't leave there. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead.
"Don't ask me-"
“Don’t leave me here alone.” She tried to get out of bed in a hurry but all she managed to do was trip over her own feet thanks to her throbbing leg.
San was faster and held her by the waist, helping her sit on the bed again very carefully.
“Y/N, don’t get up.” His hand stopped on her thigh, checking if she was okay.
“I just want to forget everything that happened.” she sighed, looking at him sadly.
Maybe it wasn't the best time for it, but San was the only person who could make her forget even her own name and that's what she needed.
“I want to be your Y/N again.” she touched his face, the words seemed to have an effect on him, he understood what she meant but was reluctant. “I just want to feel your touch, even if it’s for one night.”
Y/N's hands slowly trailed down his neck to his hard pecs and his eyes wavered momentarily.
“You’re hurt,” he reminded, voice lower. “I can't-” she put her finger to his mouth, shushing him.
“The only thing I can’t take anymore is this distance.”
San swallowed hard and held her wrist, still undecided whether to push her away or not. It was clear that he wanted this as much as she did, but he was afraid of hurting her.
“I thought that’s what you wanted to do in that pool.”
He looked at her firmly, reading if she had any trace of doubt, but when he realized that she was convinced of what she wanted, he brought his body closer to hers so slowly that it left her intoxicated and his hands went to her waist. 
His eyes focused on her mouth and he brought their faces closer, leaving her anxious for what was to come.
But San didn't rush things, quite the opposite, still without putting their lips together he ran his nose along the length of Y/N's face from one side to the other, feeling the soft texture of her skin against him, one he had never forgotten.
Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, her hands still on San's chest, and her heart beat even faster when she felt his lips gently touch hers, making her grab his shirt.
San kissed her carefully and affectionately, his warm, wet lips dictated a slow rhythm that indicated he was just savoring and making up for the time they had lost.
San broke the kiss and she was already panting, without the strength to open her eyes, and then he started a new kiss a little faster.
Y/N took the opportunity to bring him closer, pressing their bodies together and made him move, leaning forward, taking his hands from her waist to rest on the bed as their tongues finally met again, thirstier than ever.
Y/N hugged him around the waist with her legs while her hands went to his back, while San took the opportunity to rest his elbows on the mattress so that his body weight wouldn't hurt her.
He treated her like a porcelain doll, fragile to the point of breaking and although she found all that care very cute, it still wasn't what she wanted.
So, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, that useless piece of clothing was just getting in the way anyway, he broke the kiss just so he could take it off while her hands went back to his chest, going down to his abdomen that she stroked.
She felt his skin crawl between her fingers and smiled, now she could see perfectly how much he had worked out over the last few years and she just couldn't stop feeling the texture of his warm skin, as if she could memorize every inch.
"Surprised?" he asked, his husky voice making every hair in Y/N's body stand on end.
She bit her lower lip.
“Not quite the word I would use.”
San laughed softly and brought his face to her neck, where he began to distribute wet, hot kisses, making her rub her hips against his and scratch his abdomen while she closed her eyes.
“There’s someone desperate here.” he confirmed and bit her earlobe, making her squeak softly.
Not because it hurt, but because she liked it. Very much.
“You teased me enough at that party” she replied and he decided to move the kisses to her chin, smiling.
"Thank you love. Red looks great on you too.” He bit her chin as he spoke, now kissing her neck and chest even further. “But I prefer you in that bikini.” He moved the neckline of the dress she was wearing enough to sink his nose between her breasts and her hands automatically went to the back of his head. “Or maybe without it.”
One of San's hands found the end of her dress and began to lift the fabric, he moved his own torso enough to be able to remove the piece from her, which she desperately helped him pass over her own arms.
He took the opportunity to kneel on the bed and observe her in just her underwear, she felt not only her cheeks but her entire body heat up, he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, enough for her to forget the bruises on her face and body.
He tilted his body to stay on top of her, still without letting all his weight fall on her, he distributed kisses along the entire length of her shoulder while she sighed, she was at his mercy and just wanted to enjoy the caresses he distributed over her skin.
San could do whatever he wanted with her. It could be dangerous, uncertain and even wrong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it and being there with him, she knew she would be okay.
After years she would finally be where she always dreamed, back in his arms being enveloped by the love he still showed for her, which seemed to be ever greater than the last time.
There with him, sighing and moaning his name, it was as if no time had passed.
[...]
Y/N slowly woke up, her body still hurt and her eyes burned from the brightness of the room. So she brought her hands to her face to rub her eyes. 
It was then that noticed she wasn't in the presidential suite, patted the other side of the bed that was empty and remembered the night before.
Taking the sheet that covered her body with her, she sat on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face and at the same moment San came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
She smiled discreetly as she stared at his bare and strong torso, memories of the previous night flooded her mind and her cheeks burned.
She had no reason to be shy, but she really was after what they had done last night.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." San smiled widely and came over to give her a peck.
"Good morning." She replied and he stopped, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing, it's just that… it's good waking up with you by my side."
She smiled, feeling like a fool in love.
"You say like you never slept with me."
"Well, when we were dating everyone thought we didn't sleep together." he shrugged and sat next to her on the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That we were two inexperienced innocents.”
"That's because no one knew you were a pervert." she replied jokingly and his fingers moved to her shoulder, giving her a nice caress.
"You didn't complain about that pervert." He pouted and she laughed, tilting her head.
"Because I love him." she replied, moving closer to kiss him.
However, before they could make an intense noise of sirens could be heard throughout the hotel.
Y/N pulled away, scared looking around as if she could guess what was happening and San sighed.
"What is that?" she asked more to herself and watched as he got up from the bed.
"I wish I had told you sooner."
She frowned.
"Told what?" asked but San didn't respond immediately, he approached the suitcase that was on top of the armchair in the room and opened it, taking the towel off his waist and leaving himself in just his underwear in front of Y/N who was watching him curiously.
She saw San put on dark pants and then a white t-shirt, which really highlighted his torso, but the shock came when he took off a vest and she felt her jaw drop when she realized it was bulletproof, she knew because she saw the word police written on the front. 
Feeling her head spin, she had to put her hand on the bed to keep herself standing, or in this case, sitting.
"San, what is this?" the weak voice asked and he finished putting on his shoe.
"Come with me." he asked and she looked at him confused. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't even need to think about the answer.
"Always."
San approached the bed and reached out to her, Y/N held it and got up from the bed.
He separated his own clothes for her to wear besides her thin dress and she did so, still not understanding what was happening, San made her wear a blazer that looked huge on her but covered most of the bruises on her arm.
He took her out of the room and they took the elevator, she was distressed because San didn't say what was happening even there alone, keeping his hand on her waist and his expression too calm.
She was already internally biting her cheek and when she got out of the elevator she saw that the place was full of police officers, uniformed and armed.
Y/N followed with her gaze a police officer who passed in front of her with a very large gun, hearing San's low laugh that made her continue walking forward.
In the hotel lobby, she was able to get a sense of the situation. Several of Seungho's henchmen were kneeling on the floor with their hands on top of their heads while some of the police officers watched them quite angrily, others walked around the hotel looking for something.
"Detective Choi."
Y/N turned her head so fast it made a noise, San patted her back before reaching out to the approaching police officer.
"Kang." he greeted his colleague, adopting a more serious pose.
"Everything is in order, the evidence and witnesses are being taken now."
San nodded and the officer turned his attention to Y/N. "And Miss-"
"Don't worry, I'll walk her to the police station myself." San spoke firmly as her eyes widened.
Police station? Would she go to the police station?
The police officer nodded and left, leaving San and Y/N alone.
"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and he held her shoulders gently.
"Follow me." she wanted to understand what was happening but his eyes said that everything would be fine and she believed it.
That's why she silently agreed and let San take her outside, towards a black car, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in without question. San got in on the other side and started the car while Y/N put her hands together to play with her fingers, waiting for him to start talking.
“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the street.
Y/N shrugged, laughing lightly.
"You are cop." she confirmed and looked at him, seeing him nod his head.
“When you broke up with me 7 years ago, I knew something was wrong.” he took a deep breath. “I was always convinced that you would never do that to me if you didn't have a very strong reason, we always talked about plans for our future and one night you just didn't want it anymore?” He glanced at her, seeing that she was immersed in the explanation, he continued “The next day, I returned to your house, I was determined to talk to you more calmly but when I arrived at the corner I saw that you were leaving with your bags from home, what surprised me most was the fact that you said goodbye to your mother but you didn't even look at your father's face.”
Y/N took a deep breath. That scene of saying goodbye to her parents was like a blur in her head, the only thing she remembered was that she began to understand the meaning of being alone.
“Your father was your hero, your rock and you simply ignored him before getting into a car that had never been in your house before.”
“It wasn’t the easiest day of my life.” she commented, resting her head on the car seat.
“I know, me either.” San stopped the car at the traffic lights and turned to face her. “That’s why after I saw you driving away in that car, I knocked on the door.”
Y/N's jaw dropped.
"What?"
“Your mother answered, she was devastated but it seemed like she knew I was going to show up, when I walked in… Your father was drinking, he was crying and saying he had destroyed your life.”
Y/N felt her nose itch, indicating that her eyes were about to water.
“I asked them to explain to me what was happening, I don’t know, I wanted to be able to help in some way.” he shrugged and the car started moving again, with San turning his attention to the street again. “Your father told me he bet you on a game, that he was an addict and that he had lost the only thing that mattered. At first I didn’t want to believe it.” he laughed, humorlessly. “That was the script for an Italian mobster movie, but your mother confirmed the version and said they were forced to hand it over to you or else everyone would suffer the consequences.”
She took a deep breath, staring into space.
That was the truth.
She never chose Seungho, she was forced to or he would start killing everyone she loved, starting with her father. 
“After a few days of crying like a teenager I was, I went to talk to Hongjoong. His uncle was a police officer and heard the story, he told me who the Kim family was and what Seungho was capable of since at the time he was starting to take over a good part of the west of the city. He told me that there were rumors among the police that he had gone after your father and instigated his addiction to cards because he wanted to have you.” she swallowed. She already knew this version of the story and still reacted the same way. “He had become obsessed with you and had done everything on purpose. I was so angry, I had never felt such hatred as I did that day. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that.”
Y/N looked at him, there was a certain anger in San's words and his jaw was clenched.
“That day I promised myself that I would take revenge, that I would make him pay for everything he had done to you, for stealing your life. Our life.”
San looked at her and smiled sadly.
“And I joined the police, I wanted to do things the right way.” she smiled lightly, it was obvious to her. San was always very correct. “But it wasn’t that easy. I needed to prove to everyone that I was capable, I went through a lot of things in the police to reach the day when I would finally have the opportunity to start investigating the Kim family.”
“And you didn’t deny that chance.” It wasn't a question.
San parked the car and she looked outside, seeing that they were already at the police station, he rested his arm on the steering wheel and turned towards her.
“I couldn’t, we would only have this opportunity to catch him. He didn't know my face, he didn't know who I was, we created a way to bring our team closer to him. And it worked, he believed it.”
She took off her belt and turned to San.
“You already knew you would find me.”
He nodded and held one of her hands, giving it a gentle caress.
“I know it will seem strange but I followed your every step, it was part of the investigation.”
She felt a shiver run down the back of her neck.
“Am I going to be arrested?”
San pressed his lips together in a thin line and brought his hand to caress her face.
“No, you are the main witness in this case, everyone knows that you were just one of his victims. With all the evidence I've gathered, you're all clear. But you need to tell the police everything you know.”
Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.
“Okay, if that’s what I have to do to end this story once and for all.” she nodded and he smiled widely at her. “What about last night…”
He laughed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.
“Well, you don’t need to say.”
She laughed too.
San approached and kissed her forehead, making her sigh.
“I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I thought it was impossible for me to love you more, but I do.” she shrugged and saw his eyes light up, just like they did last night. “If I stayed sane all these years, it was thanks to you.”
San kissed the tip of her nose.
“I would do anything for you, to keep you safe. I love you, Y/N.”
“What about us?”
"Us?" he pretended to think for a moment and she narrowed her eyes, smiling. “I think we still have a lot to make up for.”
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loveydovey-leviathan · 7 months ago
Note
can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️
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mc gets jealous
obey me x gn!reader
🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉
a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao
cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]
.
The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.
Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.
Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.
With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”
lucifer
A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.
And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.
If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.
When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.
Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.
“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”
mammon
He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.
“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”
Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).
“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”
He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.
He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.
He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.
leviathan
He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.
It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.
He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.
It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.
“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.
When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).
His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.
“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.
satan
He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.
Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.
“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.
He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.
“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.
While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.
“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”
He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.
asmodeus
Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.
As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.
“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”
He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.
It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.
“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 
He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.
Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.
beelzebub
He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.
He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.
The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.
He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.
“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”
He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.
He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.
“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”
belphegor
Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.
When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.
He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.
“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”
When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.
But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.
Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.
“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)
If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.
“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”
The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.
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bellamoooon · 1 month ago
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Will you let me hold you, please?
High school theater kid! Cooper x High school theater kid! Fem Reader
TW: extra corny bad written fic about a fruit salad 🤗
A.N: I completely understand if you do not want to finish reading this, I literally wrote this for funsies and because of the lack of cooper fics
"Have a little faith, Cooper is a great actor!" my friend Madelyn suggests as we walk away from the bulletin board. "I've seen him in a couple of school plays before, and plus, you are a great actress. I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"You do realize he's a sophomore, right? Maddie, I'm a freshman—he’ll be incredibly uncomfortable!" I say, turning to her as I glance down at my phone, checking the time. Five minutes until the first script read-through.
"Chill, Y/N. I had art with him last semester, and he’s honestly the sweetest human being. You’ll do just fine. Besides, he doesn’t talk to any of the other sophomores, so he doesn’t really care," she tries to comfort me, but it’s of no use. "He’s a 'go with the flow' kind of guy."
"Sure, yeah… Cooper, super nice, super chill, as cool as a breeze," I reply in an awkward voice as we reach the doors of the auditorium.
"Ew, don’t do that in front of him, please!" she laughs, patting my back. "Look, you got the role for a reason. You have talent. Thrive in it. It’ll be like home to you—I just know it." She smiles softly, and it makes me feel better. She always knows how to keep me grounded.
I sigh as I push open the door, stepping inside. I turn back to see Madelyn giving me two thumbs up. Dork.
I head to the front row of the empty auditorium, dropping my backpack into one of the seats. I glance around at everyone else, talking among themselves—none of them have noticed me yet.
"Hey, look! It’s Baby Moon!" Or so I thought.
I turn to see Liv, a senior, shouting from across the room. I remember her from when she was a junior and my brother, who had just recently graduated, was a senior. They had... a thing. No one really knew what it was—hell, I didn’t even know, and my brother tells me everything. When he graduated, he cut ties with her, saying it was for the best. He was right, but she refused to accept it. Ever since then, she’s made it her mission to make my life hell.
That’s why she got everyone to start calling me "Baby Moon," because of my last name. I hate the nickname.
"Thanks for the warm welcome, Liv," I say sarcastically as the others’ laughter dies down. She walks toward me with an arrogant smile. Can't wait to hear this.
"So, Baby Moon, congrats on the lead with Koch," she sneers, using Cooper's last name, which I know he hates—something Madelyn had mentioned.
"Thanks. Which role did you get? Tree number one?" I mock with a pout, to which she scoffs. "Relax, I know you wanted a low-profile role, so you went for the ensemble."
She rolls her eyes and walks away as we hear the theater teacher enter.
"Good afternoon, my beautiful actors and actresses! Today will be simple. We’ll have a first read of the scripts, and I’ll have the leads do a semi-improv chemistry test. Are we clear?" Everyone nods or mutters a 'yes' in response as she takes her seat in the front row with her clipboard. "Y/N, I see you're here. Has Cooper arrived?"
I look around. No sign of him.
"No, I haven’t seen him—"
"I’m here! Sorry! I’m here!" Cooper bursts through the door, his hair ruffled and his backpack hanging low from his arm. He must have sprinted from the other side of the school.
The teacher giggles softly. "It's alright, Cooper. Please grab a script."
He nods, grabbing the only remaining script from the second-to-last seat in the front row. He sits down, exhaling deeply, still panting from his run. He looks up, and our eyes meet for a brief moment before we both look away.
We finally start the read-through. I'm enjoying myself, and I glance around to see how others are reacting. Some look bored as usual, while others are laughing, and a few seem to be trying.
The teacher then announces the reading is over, and the leads are to come up to the stage for the chemistry test. I make my way to the stage, followed by Cooper, while the others remain seated, watching.
"I want to see some romance. Show me how you two connect, okay? Just let it flow," the teacher instructs.
I turn to Cooper, internally panicking about how I ended up in this situation, knowing I have zero guts for anything romantic.
"And... action!" the teacher calls out.
"I said I was sorry," Cooper says, his expression pleading, his voice taking on a whiny tone. Okay... think, Y/N, think.
"I-I don't know what to tell you. This was everything to me. You made a promise, and you broke it," I reply, spitting out the words with a mix of rage and a face on the verge of tears.
"Baby..." His voice softens as he steps closer, taking my hands in his. "I know I was wrong, but... I love you." He draws nearer.
"I just... I..." Before I know it, Cooper is down on his knees, his head level with my chin due to our height difference. One hand wraps around my waist while the other supports behind my knees.
"Please... I'll beg for your forgiveness if that's what you want. But please..." My hands instinctively move to his head—one running through his hair, the other resting on his cheek. "Please, baby... I promise I won't hurt you again."
A shiver runs down my spine as he speaks, his voice so smooth, so full of emotion that I almost forget we’ve never met before. Yet here he is, on his knees, begging for my forgiveness.
"I just can't... but you're just... so hard to get away from. You're like a drug to me. Tell me, love, what did you do to me? Why can't I walk away from you?" His face inches closer to mine, and without realizing it, I lean in too. Our lips meet—not rough or desperate, but soft and caring.
"And cut! Wow!" I pull away, realizing what just happened. My cheeks flush red as I turn to see the theater teacher smiling widely.
I turn back to find Cooper still on his knees, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, making me blush even more. I extend a hand to help him stand.
"Nice to meet you, Cooper," I laugh, finally introducing myself after the whole unplanned scenario.
"Same here, Y/N." He laughs too, shaking my hand. Gosh, this is mortifying.
As Cooper stands up and shakes my hand, I can’t help but blush even harder. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. I try to compose myself as the theater teacher begins to speak.
“That was absolutely brilliant!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together in excitement. “You two have incredible chemistry on stage. I’m feeling some real magic here.”
I turn back to Cooper, and we exchange a sheepish smile, still feeling the adrenaline from the scene we had just performed. My heart races as I realize we had just kissed. Even if it was just for the scene, it still left me feeling a bit flustered.
The theater teacher continues, "I knew I made the right choice in casting you two as leads! You're both incredibly talented, and you play off each other so well."
I glance at Cooper again, feeling a strange mix of butterflies in my stomach and a tinge of nervousness.
The teacher goes on, "I’m really excited to see what you two can do together. The opening night is in three weeks, so we better start working hard!"
I nod in agreement, still trying to process the events of the past few minutes. I can feel the eyes of the other cast members on us, some looking curious, others slightly envious.
Cooper speaks up for the first time, his voice as smooth as it was during the scene, "I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N."
“Me too… you’re really talented. You had me there for a second, and we just met.” I chuckle as we walk off the stage, grabbing our backpacks. “I’m not gonna lie, I was way too nervous before coming in. I thought you’d be, uhm— intimidating?”
Cooper chuckles softly as he walks beside me, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Intimidating? Me?" he says jokingly. "I’m not sure whether to feel honored or offended that you thought I was intimidating," he laughs again, this time softer.
We reach the door, which he pushes open to let me go first. I mutter a small "thanks." “Well, probably a bit offended, seeing as I’m literally mocked by everyone in this school, so… I was kinda expecting the same.”
Cooper's expression softens when I mention the mocking, and I see a hint of concern in his eyes. He then speaks, "I’m sorry to hear that… but trust me, I’m not like everyone else. I’m a pretty chill guy, and I don’t see you as less than anyone because you’re a freshman or whatever it is they mock you about."
“That’s— thanks…” I smile softly as I notice him subtly biting his bottom lip. “If they ever ask for Baby Moon, just know, that’s me,” I say with a chuckle, feeling a bit flustered.
Cooper lets out a laugh, "Baby Moon, huh? That’s a new one.” He raises an eyebrow, still smiling. “I have a feeling that’s not the only nickname you’ve accrued.”
“Not at all, no,” I laugh, noticing his messy hair, which I’d messed up earlier when I ran my hands through it. “I’m— sorry about your hair. It was the moment,” I stammer, blushing even more.
Cooper laughs sheepishly, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it looks better this way.” He glances at me with a playful smirk. “Though I can’t help but wonder if you just wanted an excuse to mess it up.”
“Then I wonder if you just wanted an excuse to kiss me,” I turn it back on him, trying not to burst into laughter.
Cooper’s eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. A blush slowly creeps onto his face as he struggles to reply. He stutters out a quick response, “I—no—uh…” Then he breaks into laughter, clearly amused by my retort. “Damn, good one,” he says, still laughing.
“I’m just teasing you. I’m never serious,” I laugh as I see someone running toward us. I turn around and see Madelyn approaching with a knowing smile as she spots me standing there with Cooper.
Cooper chuckles at my comment, still amused by our exchange. We then turn to see Madelyn approach, her grin widening as she sees us together. She walks up to us, her eyes flickering between Cooper and me with an almost conspiratorial look.
“Well— I…I’ll see you tomorrow at rehearsal, Cooper,” I smile at him and glance at his messy hair again. “You better fix that, or people might get the wrong idea.”
Cooper gives me a sly smile, clearly enjoying the banter. “Sure thing. Can’t have people thinking I was making out with the lead now, can I?”
He then laughs and playfully fixes his hair a bit, though it still looks incredibly messy. “There. Better?”
“A mirror might help you,” I snort as I grab Madelyn’s arm. Cooper huffs in mock annoyance.
“Hey, I tried my best!”
Madelyn grabs my arm and begins to pull me away as Cooper calls out. “See you tomorrow! Don’t forget to practice your lines!”
“You bet I won’t!” I answer, blushing, knowing Madelyn would comment on Cooper’s "making out with the lead" remark.
After we walk away, Madelyn looks at me with a mischievous grin, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.
“So…” she begins, a hint of playfulness in her voice, “making out with the lead, huh?”
“It’s just— a joke, a joke. We didn’t, like… make out for real,” I say, stammering as I look down at my feet.
Madelyn smirks at me, clearly enjoying my flustered state. “So you did make out with him,” she says, still grinning. “Wow, you do not waste time, do you?”
“Shut up, will ya? This is so embarrassing. We just— kissed for the chemistry thing and… and we introduced ourselves after he’d stuck his tongue down my throat! God—” I cover my face with my hands. Please kill me.
Madelyn bursts out laughing, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious. "Oh my god, Y/N," she giggles. "You’re blushing so hard right now. And his tongue down your throat? Wow, so much for being the quiet one, huh?"
“Shut up!” I laugh, mortified by the whole situation. I will never EVER live this down. “I’m just glad it’s over, so the kiss in rehearsals and on opening night won’t be… awkward.” I sigh as the heat from my cheeks dies down.
Madelyn snickers as she slings an arm around my shoulders. "Oh, you'll be fine. As long as you can see him again in rehearsals and on opening night. I'm sure you'll have plenty more 'tongue down the throat' moments to look forward to."
“Maddie! Oh my gosh!” I yell as she bursts out laughing, clearly finding this whole thing incredibly amusing while I find it rather mortifying.
As we walk down the hallway, suddenly Liv stands in our way, making us stop. She steps in front of us with a smug smile on her face. "Well, well, well," she sneers, looking directly at me. "Looks like the freshman got lucky, huh?"
I cringe internally as I realize what she's referring to. Liv had always loved bringing me down. I don't say anything, just try to maintain my composure as I look at her blankly.
She continues, turning her attention to Madelyn. "I mean, who would have thought little Baby Moon would get the lead and a cute upperclassman all in one day?"
"Liv—" I feel blank, and I don't want to fight, but I also know Madelyn won't let this slide.
Madelyn, ever the outspoken one, steps in front of me, her expression hardening. "Cut the crap, Liv," she spits. "You know damn well that Y/N deserves that role more than anyone."
Liv scoffs, unfazed by Madelyn's words. "Please, just because she's a freshman doesn't mean she's any good. And I saw her with Koch earlier—he's way out of her league."
Madelyn rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed by Liv's condescending attitude. "You're just jealous," she snaps back. "Y/N's a damn good actress, and Cooper being into her just proves it."
"He's not—" I try to speak, but they both completely ignore me.
Liv smirks, not backing down. "Please, he's not into her, and even if he was, it's only because she's the lead. Once opening night is over, he'll dump her and move on to the next girl who gets the lead."
"He's not into me, and neither am I into him! It's just acting!" I snap, frustration bubbling over. "God, Liv, get a fucking life and stop snooping into mine because you're still obsessed with my brother! Go find a friend or something!" I gasp for air as I stop myself from saying anything else. Shit.
Liv's face goes slack at my outburst, clearly taken aback. Madelyn looks shocked, but I can see a hint of approval in her eyes. The hallway falls eerily quiet as people around us stop to look and whisper about what just happened.
"I—Liv, I'm so sorry—"
Liv takes a step back, clearly stung. She tries to keep her cool, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. "Shut up," she says, her voice strained. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
Madelyn steps between us, trying to diffuse the tension. "Okay, both of you, chill out," she says, her voice firm but calm.
Liv glares at me before pushing past us, bumping my shoulder as she walks away. Madelyn turns to me, a mix of concern and approval on her face. "That was intense," she says, shaking her head.
"I'm 100% screwed," I mutter as I stare blankly down the hallway. I was barely into freshman year, and my high school life was already over.
Madelyn sighs, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, don’t worry too much about it. Yeah, Liv's probably pissed, but she'll get over it. And besides, this might actually work in your favor."
The next day comes around, and I'm walking into the auditorium for rehearsal. The events of yesterday are still fresh in my mind, and I can feel the tension in the air as I make my way down the aisle to the stage. Some of the cast members give me curious glances, clearly aware of the confrontation with Liv.
As I approach the stage, I spot Cooper sitting off to the side, going over some notes. He looks up and gives me a small smile, clearly aware of the awkwardness between us after the whole flirty interaction and making-out thing. I awkwardly return the smile and make my way beside him.
I set my backpack down and try to think of something to say, but before I can, Cooper breaks the silence. "Hey," he says softly. "How are you holding up after yesterday?"
"I see you've heard about my little outburst to Liv—like everyone else." I shake my head as I pull the script from my backpack. "You never realize how quickly gossip spreads until you reach high school."
Cooper lets out a small laugh, clearly amused. "Yeah, I heard about it," he says, still smiling. "But don't worry too much. Half the people in this school have probably gotten into a fight with Liv at some point."
"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly thrilled to be one of Liv's mortal enemies." I smile as I turn the pages of the script, marking specific sections with numbers and lines. He lets out another soft laugh, mirroring my actions.
"Well, if she keeps you as her mortal enemy, she can count on having two now," he says, his eyes meeting mine. "I've got your back. I'm not a raging asshole."
I laugh, looking down at my hands, feeling a bit flustered by his words, though my head pounds lightly. He barely knew me, yet he was already being so sweet. But then Liv’s words echoed in my head for some reason.
He was probably just being nice because I was the lead. He has no reason to be this nice or "have my back."
"Yeah, thanks..." I say softly, trying to push Liv's voice out of my head. She's the raging asshole, not Cooper.
"By the way, have you read through the whole thing?" He closes his script. "I'm obsessed with the confession scene," he says, grabbing my script and flipping through the pages until he lands on a specific part with a grin. I yawn as he hands the script back to me. "Sleepy? It's barely 11:30, you know?" he snorts, seeing my tired expression.
"Yeah, just—" I yawn again. "Yeah, just a little." I smile softly, though it was far more than just a little. I hadn't slept more than an hour and hadn't eaten anything yet, only drinking water all morning.
"Well, better wake up, kid. We've got some rehearsing to do," he laughs as he gets up and walks on stage. Our teacher stands up and starts indicating the scenes we'd be rehearsing during the week, and something about costumes, though I don't really hear any of it as the room spins around me.
"Y/N, get into place with Cooper, sweetheart," she calls out. I walk slowly, carefully stepping onto the stage. I glance at Cooper, his expression showing clear confusion, as if to say, "She was fine a couple of minutes ago."
"Okay, Cooper, start on the second line on the third page, scene two. You there?" He quickly reads through the page and gives a thumbs-up. The teacher then turns to me. "Y/N, are you with us, love?"
I glance down at the page, then up at her and nod softly, trying to ignore my exhaustion and pounding headache.
"Mhm." Cooper turns to me, still looking concerned but saying nothing.
"Alright then, Cooper, on my count," the teacher says. "And... action!"
"I haven't seen you around here, are you new?" Cooper says, holding his hands behind his back as he moves steadily closer. "I'm Alec. You are?"
"Yeah, that’s—me, new—nice to meet you." I stretch out my hand, and he rolls his eyes with a playful grin. "Roni, I'm Roni, a pleasure."
"Well, Roni, what brings you around here? Little spoiler: there's not much to see." He turns his back on me, taking a few steps away before stopping and spinning around.
"My—my..." I try to step back, but my legs wobble. I let out a shaky breath, struggling to finish my line. "My—mom, she's on boyfriend number four, so..."
"Oh—messy home life?" His brows furrow as he sees me stumble. "Everything alright?"
"Not—not really, but I can live with it." My breathing becomes shaky as the whole auditorium spins faster. Cooper glances at our teacher, then back at me. I attempt to take another step, but my knees buckle, and I feel myself fainting.
Cooper rushes over in an instant, wrapping his arms around mine as he fell to the ground with me in his arms and falling onto his lap.
A few gasps were heard as the whole thing happened. Cooper stroked some hair out of my face as he checked me over. The teacher called a fifteen-minute break before coming up to check on me and Cooper, who hadn’t left my side.
“Y/N, sweetie, what happened? Are you alright? Did you get hurt?” she asked, grabbing my chin and turning my face from side to side as she checked me. I shut my eyes, still dizzy from the tumble.
“Yeah, just—tired. I had a long night, that’s all.”
“Y/N, you collapsed. You would’ve hit the ground if I hadn’t caught you,” Cooper spoke up as someone handed him his backpack after he silently signaled for it. “You are in no state to rehearse today.” The teacher nodded as he pulled out a chocolate protein bar and handed it to me. “You have to eat something, please.”
“Cooper, I’m fine—really.” As our teacher walked away, he opened the wrapper and placed the bar in my hand. I turned to him, and he just remained silent. “Cooper—”
“Eat. I can’t have my love interest fainting on me,” he chuckled. Finally, I gave in and took a bite, feeling immediate relief as something hit my stomach after hours of starvation.
I finished the bar, and I realized I was still sitting between Cooper’s legs as he held me, not letting go at any moment. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks as I saw him smiling down at me. I tried to get up, but he gently took hold of my wrist.
“Will you let me hold you here for a while, please?” he asked shyly, sighing. “Rest here for a bit. I just want to make sure you’re okay, please.”
“You are... too sweet. Fine,” I replied, staying in place as Cooper wrapped his arms around my neck from behind. I shook my head with a small smile.
“Is this a bad moment to ask if you’d like to get coffee with me sometime?” he asked, peeking his head around the side. I let out an audible laugh. Madelyn was right—he might just be the sweetest human being ever.
190 notes · View notes
writemekpop · 1 year ago
Text
Imperfect | Lee Jeno
Summary: You and Jeno make a list of everything you don’t like about each other. 
Genre: Established relationship AU, angst
Word count: 1k
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“You don’t believe in soulmates?” Jeno says, as you lie with your head on his chest. His fingers freeze in your hair, showing his shock. 
“I mean, you’re not gonna like everything about your partner,” you say.
“You don’t like – things about me?” Jeno says. “Like what?” 
Your breath falls short. 
“Not big things!” you say, struggling to dig yourself out of this hole. “Your aftershave! It’s a little… intense.” You suppress a grin. “Like I’m drowning.”
Jeno flops back onto the pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“You’ve gotta have things you don’t like about me too!” you insist.
“I can’t think of any,” Jeno groans. “I’m too busy trying to smell myself!” 
You hug Jeno tightly, savouring the feeling of his tight muscles beneath your hands. 
“Let’s just make a list, okay? Whenever something bothers us, we’ll write it down, then at the end of the week, we’ll share. No fights.” 
Jeno smiles. “Good idea.”
-- One week later --
Jeno tries to snatch the piece of paper from you. “Just show me! It’s been ages...”
You wrestle the paper out of his hands. Your heart is racing. “One sec! Just making some – last minute – edits.”
You are desperately scratching half of your list out with a pencil – because you realised that Jeno’s list was just a tiny post-it note, whereas you had a full sheet. 
Jeno snatches the paper from your fingers. “A-ha!” Jeno says. 
He clears his throat dramatically. “Mis-matching socks. Too afraid to talk to the people at the store.” He sits down on the bed, a frown growing on his face. “Kind of ugly… laugh.” The paper starts to shake in his hands. “Sort of – a – crybaby.”
Jeno tries to fling the paper on the floor, but it just wafts slowly down. His chest is rising and falling fast. He scrubs his eyes furiously. 
“Hey! Don’t be mad!” you say, sitting next to him. “You wrote a list about me too. Oh, Jeno, please don’t be upset.”
Jeno glares at you, his eyes red. “I’m not upset. Because that would make me a huge crybaby, and you hate that.”
He storms out of the room. 
You scramble to the floor and pick up Jeno’s list, on its yellow Post-it. You read what is written on it. 
You sink slowly to the floor. You feel like a horrible person. You wish you had never been born. You finally found a good guy, and you stamped on his heart like it was nothing. 
List of things wrong with Y/n:
Nothing 
You’re perfect 
---
You are crouched outside the bathroom door. Jeno has been in there for an hour. 
“Jeno, honey, please talk to me,” you say. 
“Get out!” Jeno yells. 
“You didn’t read the end of the list!” you say. “It says – none of this matters, because you’re the kindest, most passionate, most caring man I’ve ever met.”
You hear the lock clicking, and jump to your feet. 
Jeno opens the door, just a crack. “You don’t get it, do you?” His stare is ice-cold. “All my life, I was told that I wasn’t tough enough, brave enough, man enough. Until I met you, and you told me I was enough.” He shakes his head. “But you were lying.”  
He closes the door in your face. Through the door, you hear him say, “You know what hurts? The fact that I truly thought you were perfect. I was wrong. You’re mean, Y/n.”  
---
For the next two weeks, you spend every day reminding Jeno all the reasons that you love him - but he still gives you the silent treatment. 
One day, when you and Jeno are eating dinner in silence, Jeno slapped a piece of paper onto the table.
“What is that?” you say. 
“It’s my list.” Jeno says. “For you.” He picks it up and reads aloud. “Wears too much makeup. Judgemental. Mean. Can never take responsibility in arguments…”
Each word feels like a slap in the face. You thought that Jeno was too sweet to notice any of that stuff, but you were wrong. 
You clasp his hand, as tears start to fall. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I’m gonna treat you better, I promise.”
Jeno frowns. “Wait. You’re not… mad?”
You shake your head. 
Jeno’s eyebrows rise. “You’re not gonna deny it? Or fight back?”
You shake your head. “No. These past few weeks, I’ve realised that I – I don’t like looking at who I really am. Because who I am is… ugly. But I’m gonna change.”
Jeno clasps both your hands in his. “Oh, Y/n.” 
He comes round the table and pulls you into a tight, warm hug. You have been craving his touch for so long that that hug restores you to life. 
“I love you, you stupid idiot,” Jeno says. 
“I love you, too,” you squeak.
“Now who’s the crybaby?” Jeno says, chuckling. 
You laugh through your tears. “Shut up.” 
Jeno’s smile is warm, all signs of anger completely gone. But you have a niggling feeling you can't quite shake. 
“Do you really think I wear too much make up?” you ask, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. 
Jeno scratches his head. “Maybe… I dunno, I think I was just lashing out.” 
You stay silent. 
“Y/n, I think you’re gorgeous, inside and out. Smoking hot. Ten out of ten. Definitely would bang.” 
You snort. 
Jeno smiles, eyes crinkling. “I’m sorry, baby. I hate it when we fight.” 
You bury your head in Jeno’s neck, touching your lips against his soft skin. You can feel his soft sighs against your ear. Heaven. 
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
1K notes · View notes
vanilladove · 8 months ago
Note
Hello, I am writing to you anonymously out of shame but you can call me Emy I was reading your blog and I was totally delighted with how you wrote and I wanted to make a request: could you write for Chuuya, Jouno, Dazai and Poe (you can add more if you like) with a reader like Mikan from danganronpa If you don't know her, her personality is a little (very) shy and she is surprised by the slightest show of affection (she is even surprised if you say good morning), often despising herself, asking others to forgive her existence and when people Annoyed with her, she tends to ask if she can take off her clothes or imitate a pig so that they can forgive her for all this because she suffered harassment in the past. I'm sorry if the request is very big 😭 but I would be grateful if you accept it (nothing happens if you don't either) I'm sorry if there are spelling errors but English is not my first language and I am using Google Translator. ♡
⋆˚࿔ ˚⋆ bsd men with a v shy + fragile reader
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bow divider yeribbon
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader (dazai, atsushi, chuuya, akutagawa, jouno, poe)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: comforting fluff!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: none! also i'm not v familiar with daganronpa, so apologies for any inaccuracies! i'm just going off what wiki fandom says (。-∀-)
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ dazai osamu
doesn't mind your personality, although at first he teases you mercilessly until he realizes it isn't just an act.
as someone that has also gone through trauma, he would gradually soften up to your personality and reassure you of your worth.
dazai is a very impatient man though, so expect his method of choice to be exposure therapy...like extreme exposure therapy...like bro might slap some sense into you like atsushi & akutagawa ( ó × ò)
when you start over-apologizing, he'll put a finger to your lips and stroke your face and hair to calm you down (ღˇᴗˇ)。o
expect lots of subtle displays of affection like hand kisses, kissing away tears, and general affectionate flirting.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ atsushi nakajima
your demeanor confuses atsushi at first, to the point where he cries after the first time he meets you :,(
you're going to get a sentimental, heartfelt speech about how you deserve to live, and how you aren't a burden to anyone.
poor atsu cries over you--you guys probably have daily cry + cuddle sessions.
will do random things to cheer you up and give you many words of affirmation.
buys you a tiger plushie sprayed with his cologne to cuddle with when he isn't with you for comfort ♡
i'd like to think that through helping you, atsushi also helps address his own self-esteem issues ^w^
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ akutagawa ryunosuke
hates you at first and sees you as a cowardly weakling.
it isn't until one day he randomly compliments or helps you and catches your shy/flustered expression that he begins to feel some sympathy.
will gradually visit you more until you stop flinching whenever he approaches you. he can tell you're intimidated by him because of his personality and notorious reputation.
it's definitely hard for akutagawa to be soft with you, since he's a rough person, but he tries his best to be gentle with you.
shows his care through actions more than words (sharing food with you, doing constant check-ins, guiding your back when walking with you, etc.)
promises threatens to kill those who have harmed and harassed you in the past.
becomes overprotective over you, getting mad when anyone--even jokingly--teases you.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ chuuya nakahara
tough love~!!!
expect a lot of "huh, what the hell are you talking about?" anytime you apologize for something small or suggest some self-sabotage
since you aren't used to affection and often try to reject gifts, thinking you aren't worth giving them to, chuuya will 'lovebomb' you with gifts until you get used to them as the norm and accept them willingly.
although he may seem short-tempered and easily irritated, he'll always make time to sit down with you and listen to your rants/past stories and engage in deep conversations.
holds your hands and reminds you of how strong and talented you are--will keep drilling it into your head until it sticks.
carries tissues in his suit for when you cry.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ edgar allen poe
this man may be your twin...honestly he's a bit of a mess himself, so he doesn't know how to help you.
i think poe would be relieved to find someone similar to him--also very shy and awkward/bad at socializing.
if you started apologizing when there was a pause in conversation, he would probably apologize back, and you two would go back and forth until karl bites him (꒪▿꒪)
since you both mainly only find confidence in your talents/skills, he would get to know your strengths as much as possible and encourage you to do your best!
will also share his book plots with you, taking you with him into the books and getting your feedback, never missing the chance to show you something beautiful he secretly wrote just for you
overall, poe would make you feel less alone and isolated, helping you gain confidence overtime!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ jouno saigiku
since you're already so fragile and frantic, jouno wouldn't find any pleasure in torturing or messing with you
ends up helping you under the pretense of "calming down your raging heartbeat and nerves that are too loud"; in reality, he notices how you're always on edge and just wants you to experience some peace and quiet.
jouno's sensitive to others' emotions, so i think if you were having a panic attack or extreme anxiety, he'd immediately hug + hold you until you calmed down again (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
like the rest, he'd offer you words of affirmation and hold your hand in public/around other people.
will stick around you to ward off anyone who tries to bully you or exploit your personality; blushes uncontrollably if you thank him for his simple acts ♡
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frannyzooey · 1 year ago
Text
Short Days, Long Nights: 14
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Series Masterlist
Rating: M (childbirth, PTSD, mentions of grief)
A/N: I tried to make this as non graphic as possible, focusing instead on the emotions of the characters. The entire reason I wrote this fic in the first place, I couldn't have made it through this chapter without the incredible suggestions, support and beta reading of @the-scandalorian and @the-ginger-hedge-witch. I truly hope you enjoy ❤❤
--
In the blue wash of time between the middle of the night and the dawn, he’s asleep next to you when the first pains start. 
Deep at the root of your spine, a low throb blooms. Fading in and out, you try to ignore the manageable ache and when you can’t, your first instinct is to curl in on yourself. So you do just that: rub the heel of your hand against your tailbone, letting your feet slide together in the same rhythmic figure eight you soothe yourself with when you’re really sick. 
That motion alone should have been a giveaway, but it doesn’t strike you until the sun is rising that this is something different. 
Still, you let him sleep. 
On an instinct to be alone, you slip from the bed to go sit out on the porch. Another swell of pain ripples across your back, the sensation still light enough to soothe with a steady rub, and a taut contraction stretches across your hips for a fleeting moment, then disappears. 
The sun peeking just above the horizon, you breath low and slow, watching as it makes a steady ascent. The peaceful setting seeps in, blanketing you in reassurance and comfort, and you’re remarkably calm when he comes out of the bedroom in search of you. 
Sleep mussed curls and a frown on his face, his arms are crossed tight over his chest as he wards off the morning chill. 
“What’s wrong?” His voice is husky and low, thick with sleep. 
“I think it’s gonna be today.”
He dresses immediately, setting his mind to tasks you’ve discussed for months beforehand in an attempt to calm his nerves. Still, his hands tremble when he walks down to the bank to fill pails with water. He balls them into fists and shakes them in frustration, willing them to stop. 
Hours, days: there is no way of knowing how long this is going to take. He hates the uncertainty of it, the edge of danger that you have to teeter upon while he is helpless to stop it. Anything, at any moment, could go wrong and he would have no way of knowing what or how to help you. 
He’d be fucking useless, just like he was before. 
The guilt he’s always felt creeps through his chest like the fungus that’s infected everything else, settling deep between his ribs. It branches up through his mind, invading his thoughts and the heavy weight of it pulls at him; his shoulders rounding in a slump. His eyes close tight, his fingers digging deep into the damp sand as he braces himself on the ground. 
The thick, suffocating terror he felt on Outbreak Day comes back to him easily, a different version of the same brand of helplessness he felt on the day Sarah was born. The same as what he feels now, he feels his chest tighten and constrict, his breathing getting shallower and shallower. 
No. 
Fighting against it, he shakes himself from the reverie of images: blood, pain, anguish, sobbing. An intensely feral need rises like bile; an urge to burn the world to the ground while screaming just to make sure nothing touches what is his. 
Useful to no one if he lets it take over, he pushes it all away. Practiced in remaining calm under pressure, he takes a deep breath, focusing on the water. 
In and out, in and out, timing each breath with the gentle lap of waves along the shore. 
He speaks silent affirmations to himself - prayers, if he was still a praying man. 
He can do this. He won’t fail. He can’t. 
Gathering himself, he stands. 
“You doin’ okay?” he asks, stepping back into the cabin. Shutting the door tight to keep out the spring chill, he sets the pails of water next to the wood stove and comes to sit next to you on the couch. 
“Yea, I’m good.” A grimace of pain flits across your face for a split second, and he shifts to make room for you as you recline on the couch. Grabbing the blanket from across the back, he settles it over you. 
“I think I should try to get some rest, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep.” Even as you say the words, a yawn breaks through. 
“You’ll probably need it. Might not be a bad idea, ‘specially if you can sleep through some of the pain.” He rifles through the mix of bottles in front of you on the coffee table, placed there earlier by himself. “I don’t have anything stronger than ibuprofen,” he says apologetically. “But you can have some if you want?”
You wave it away, sliding down on the couch to try and get comfortable. “No, it’s okay. I can do without it for now. It’s not so bad.”
He moves to give you room, and your hand reaches for his, holding it tight. 
“Stay with me? I don’t want to be alone when I wake up.”
The open vulnerability on your face pulls him in, the small way in which you ask breaking open his chest, and he immediately sits back, tugging your feet onto his lap. 
“Of course, honey. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 
He smoothes over the arches of your small socked feet, letting go when you curl them together, clearly a means to comfort yourself. He instead rests his hand on your shin in a reassuring hold, and watching your eyes flutter shut as your breathing deepens and slows, his veil of control stays in place while his mind begins to free fall. 
Panic, guilt, nervous anticipation, panic. 
Again he resists, using the warmth of your shin as an anchor. 
He’s quiet: sitting with you for a bit, reading a little before giving up, double checking the supplies on the table. Making sure the bed in your old room is covered with a tarp from the shed, some old quilts piled on top of it. 
Pacing until he wills himself to stop. 
His eyes flick over to you every time he sees you shift in your sleep: your hand coming to rest on your belly, rubbing the underside with a fleeting wince of pain. He watches, and wishes he could take this all from you: every twinge of pain, everything that’s about to come. 
The guilt he feels at being responsible for putting you in this position is something he thought he made peace with a while ago, but it flares bright with every small frown between your brows and when you wake with a soft whine of discomfort, he strides to your side immediately, helping you sit up. 
Your pained sound grows louder, both of your hands splaying over the source as you clench your jaw, and feeling helpless, he does what he can, rubbing broad circles over your back. 
“I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”
You seem to give into his touch, leaning against it for strength and your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh as you ride it out. 
He keeps rubbing, and the next few hours pass much the same: waiting and pain. 
“Can you hand me that rag?”
The bed dips with his weight as he sits next to you, and wringing out the damp scrap of fabric in his hands, he runs it along your hairline. 
“I can do it,” you protest, no real fight in the words as your eyes slip shut.
“I got it.”
You feel as wrung out as that rag, exhausted yet unable to rest. Keyed up with adrenaline, you’re trying to let your body take over and not fight every single contraction, but it’s hard - so hard. Each one wracks your body with a tight, seemingly endless crest of pain that steals the air from your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, forcing you to struggle on instinct alone.
He swipes the fabric along the bridge of your nose, gently guiding your face to the side so he can collect the sweat dusted across your cheeks. You focus on the delicate drag of the cloth, letting your body relax. 
“Thank you.”
Not for the first time, he looks at his watch as if it still worked and then immediately away, directing his gaze out the window. 
“Seems like they’re getting closer,” he remarks, his hand coming to rest on the hard swell of your stomach. “Does it feel like it?”
“I honestly…I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track.”
He nods and then leaves the room, coming back with a pencil and paper. 
“It’s late. ‘Round four, I think, so you’ve been at it about twelve hours. Let me know when the next one starts, and I’ll count it out. I’ll keep track on here.”
He sets the paper down on the bedside table, his hand poised to begin making a chart and you rest your hold on top of his. 
“I think…” you lick your dry lips, swallowing. “I think we just go with it. I feel like I’ll know when it’s time?”
If you don’t officially keep track of the time between them, you won’t officially know when it’s time to push but…something about it seems right to you, given the way you’ve learned to live without structured time. 
That, and without an official “start time”, you can force your nerves to the bottom of your mind, delaying inevitable pain. Even if only for a little longer. 
The stern look he gives you in response tells you how he feels about that answer, and he shakes his head. 
“It’s not just about knowin’ when it’s time. It’s about knowin’ when it’s been too long.”
His logic wins over your fear, and a weighted silence lingers between the two of you. Not wanting to acknowledge what that would mean, you let his hand go and curl onto your side. Facing him, you let him know when the next contraction starts, and while he sets his pencil down to hold your hand, you watch his lips move with silent counts. 
You just… let your body take over. 
Existing in a plane of never ending cresting waves of crippling pain that come closer and closer together, you squeeze his hand just as tight as you squeeze your eyes shut with every single one. The fight inside of you fades, instinct ruling instead and needing to have faith in your body to do the right thing without any knowledge to guide you, you just…give in. 
You should be terrified at the prospect of it, but you can’t seem to find the strength to care. Your body was built for this, designed for this, has done this very thing billions of times over throughout human existence and giving yourself over to that idea, you find yourself comforted, in a way.
You do what it tells you to do: take deep breaths when you can, curl onto your side into a tight ball when you need to, let tears fall freely from your eyes without embarrassment. You writhe and shift on the bed into whatever position feels comfortable, giving into the instinctual need to seek comfort at whatever cost. 
Daylight shifts into twilight shifts into nightfall, and he’s with you throughout the whole thing, as steadfast as he’s always been. 
At your side, like he’s always been. 
There, like he’s always been. 
With his reassuring presence beside you, you descend into a base version of yourself with his hand an anchor. 
A quiet, formidable strength greater than the brute type he’s capable of emerges, and Joel watches as you close your eyes and draw on resources he didn’t know your body still had. 
Underrated and overlooked in terms of survival, you may not have the physical skills he has but your internal strength and will to survive through hope and optimism are more valuable than his skills right now. Awestruck by the shift that happens before him, he wonders if that’s what's always subconsciously drawn him to you: this innate sense that you’ll fill in his blanks, bringing him a sense of peace when his life has known anything but. 
You take his weaknesses and mold them into something good instead of a liability, meeting them with strengths of your own. He is responsible for so many things when it comes to you: your life, your well being, your survival. Seeing you now, taking charge of every one of those things with a fierce strength that outmatches anything he can provide in this situation, he not only understands that you have his back just as much, but also that you’ve always had it.  
Two halves of a whole, your faith and his competence.
An equal partner, whose qualities shine bright in their quiet, unassuming way. 
Your fingers twisted in the sheets, you prop yourself up against the headboard of the bed with a low groan and tell him when you’re ready. 
“I think it’s time.” 
You barely get the words out before you’re bearing down in taut silence, your jaw clenched and he shifts on the bed, his hands molding over your knees to gently pull them apart. 
“Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”
His voice calls to you from the depths of your pain, the sound of it muffled behind the blood rushing in your ears and you use it like a beacon, something to focus on. The contractions one on top of another, it’s well past dark outside the cabin when everything seems to happen all at once:
A dark, wet patch of hair emerging; Joel’s eyes widening as his fingers tentatively reach out to touch it. 
A sob catching in your throat; fluid soaking the blanket underneath you. 
Pain so fierce and overwhelming it makes you lightheaded; a pressure so blindingly sharp and heavy and full that you scream before it abruptly stops, everything sliding out in a slick rush. 
“You did it, honey,” he praises you, his head down as he cradles the baby in his hands. “You did it. She’s out.”
She. The sobs you let out are involuntary, a mixture of immense relief and joy paired with the crash of adrenaline and your limbs shake with exhaustion, your head falling back into the pillow he’s propped beneath your head.
It’s only then that the silence in the room comes to your attention. 
“Joel?” You wearily push yourself up, trying to see her. 
He’s looking down at the mattress with a deep frown of focus, his skin ashen and gray and your stomach bottoms out, panic flooding your chest. Limited as your knowledge is about babies, you know you should be hearing her make a sound right now. Any sound. 
“Why isn’t she crying?” you ask, a slight tremble catching the end of the sentence. 
He doesn’t answer you, instead staying focused on her, his hands smeared and glistening with blood as one splays over her impossibly tiny chest, his fingers rubbing along the dip of her sternum. 
“Come on. Come on.” 
His words have a frantic edge to them, one you can hear even with how he’s murmuring the near silent chant to himself and you mirror it, doing the same. 
“Come on, baby. Come on.”
A thin whimper breaks the tense silence, her limbs suddenly flaring out in a silent fight against the world, and her timid cry blooms into a bright wail that pierces the air. 
Relief floods out of you in sob, his own breaking free in the rush of a heavy exhale, and when he scoops her up, unshed tears glisten in his eyes. Handing her wet body to you, she’s matted and smeared with blood and slick, and she squirms on your bare chest for a moment, your arms automatically cradling her close. 
Impossible tiny, just like he said. 
“A she.” Your voice thick with tears, you look up at him and he grins down at you, his smile shining bright with pride. 
“A she.”
Your cheek comes to rest on the crown of her head when he bends to press a kiss to your forehead and his murmurs against the sweat damp skin there make you cry even more. 
“You did it, my girl. You did it.”
A slight tremble to his hands as he finishes tying off the umbilical cord, he gently hands her back to you and reaches for the bucket near the side of the bed. 
“I’m gonna go empty this, but I’ll be right back.”
You acknowledge him, your arms tightening in their hold on her as you scoot back in your bed. Tucked safely against your chest, she’s already sliding into sleep and you join her, closing your eyes. Fixing the blanket around you, he picks up the bucket and leaves the room. 
Night darkens the path as he makes his way down to the water, the setting around him awash in muted colors. Animals moving in their quest to hunt for the night, the fresh spring breeze rustles the new growth on the trees that surround him, but he sees and hears none of it, his vision beginning to tunnel. 
Black gathers around the edges of the world, the basin in his hands falling onto the grass. His boots sinking into the sand, he barely makes it to the bank before he’s buckling, knees hitting the soft ground. 
The image of the two of you sleeping flashes through his mind, and the pressure in his chest swells and overcomes him, emotion choking his airway. The intensity of the last twenty four hours seeps out of him, the image of her still body as he rubbed life into her fixed behind his clenched shut eyes and finally - finally - he lets it go with big, wracking sobs that pour out, a sound he tries to muffle with his hands. 
Relief, relief. 
June Miller. 
A basin of warm water between the two of you on the bed, you watch as he cradles her endlessly moving body in his large hands and bathes her. Her limbs stretch and flex slowly, testing their newfound boundaries and not being able to decide on which face you want to look at more, you shift your gaze back and forth between her scrunched one and his more focused, intent one. He’s careful yet steady with his movements, the gentle splash of water the backdrop to the tiny squawks of protest she lets out. 
The lantern illuminates them, a circle of light surrounding their figures in an intensely intimate way and you watch glistening drops of water slide down over his thick wrist as he cups some, pouring it over her hair. 
“I know you don’t like it. I know.”
It’s innate, his soothing. 
Second nature from the first time he held her and spoke to her, you could tell he’d done this before. His body curled protectively around her as he held her to his broad chest, his movements practiced and confident and you watched as it happened without him even realizing, like he didn’t have to think about caring for someone else - just doing it, as if he couldn’t help it. 
Finishing bathing her with the fresh basin of water he brought back from the river, she keeps her eyes closed against the light of the world as he sets her in her cradle, turning to help you from the bed. You brace your hand on his solid shoulder as he kneels, exhaustion thickly blanketing your body as you feel soothing, firm wipes of wet warmth on your skin. He’s just as careful and detailed with it as he was with her, and after he dries and settles you in the bedroom you share with him, he crawls in after you, closing his eyes. 
Dawn is breaking when you wake to the sound of a restless, small cry and you leave him sleeping when you go to grab her, bringing her back to bed. Brushing aside the soft blanket that covers her cheek, you look down and see two dark eyes blinking back up at you. Shaped just like his, they stay open. 
You want to wake him because it feels…significant, this moment. She’s tiny — dark eyes, a button nose, a dot of a mouth and full little cheeks. Her eyes are open and so are yours and the two of you sit there and just — look. Basking in the strange sensation of silently learning each other, yet knowing each other so well already. 
You remember what Joel said, about you and them and the peaceful stillness of sitting in the quiet and your vision waters, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. More joy than you’ve felt in your whole life, the emotion is overwhelming - as if a beacon of pure, unfiltered light has flooded your entire body, lighting you from the inside out. 
She keeps looking, her tiny brow scrunching and you smile down at her, another tear sliding free. 
“Joel,” you whisper, and he’s up in an instant. 
“Yea?”
It takes you a minute to speak, and his face shifts into alarm.
“What’s the matter? She okay?”
He sits up quickly, scooting closer to see her more clearly. 
“Yea,” you reply, sniffing. “Look at her.”
She looks like you, like him, like her own self and you can’t stop looking at her, trying to find fleeting traces of every version. 
Mesmerized, he strokes the soft back of her tiny hand over and over with his thumb, and his voice is a low gravel, full of soothing adoration.
“Hey, baby girl.”
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beetlejuicyy · 8 months ago
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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader
2. Wash Away
Summary: modern!Sukuna hasn't come to terms with the fact that you might not belong to him anymore (featuring a harmless Nanami cameo)
Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating
Word count: 2,789
Series masterlist:
1. Ultimatum
2. Wash Away
3. Only memories
4. Vengeance
Read on AO3
Notes: here's part two!! thank you for the love you showed for the first part, it means a lot. hope you enjoy
General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry
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You checked your phone for the tenth time in the span of a minute. It had become unbearable to witness yourself desperately checking to see if Sukuna wrote you. Sure, you had ignored all his attempts to get in touch in the past few weeks. It didn't mean that you didn't enjoy knowing that he took his time to pester you with messages or take a break while driving between blackmailing some CEO for money and checking the status of the new cargo to call you five times in a row. Sukuna was persistent, if anything, and, as annoying as he was in his conviction that you still belonged to him, you found it incredibly satisfying to see him chasing after you.
However, since yesterday, the messages stopped pouring, your phone has gone silent, and your thoughts had turned your head into a mess. Did he give up on you already? Isn't that what you wished for, though?
"Thank you again for agreeing to meet." You said as the tall blond man came back to the table with your coffee. You argued that it was you who took him out so you would pay. Nonsense, he quickly dismissed you and remembered your usual order like it was yesterday.
"No need to thank me." He respectfully said, sitting down in front of you.
It was pouring outside, a quick summer storm that cooled off the heat of the previous days. It had started raining just after you met at the small café in your neighborhood.
You've known Nanami Kento since college. You graduated one year apart but you were part of the same friend group that ultimately didn't survive after graduation. However, you ended up working at the same company, until he resigned more than a year ago.
"How have you been?" He asked, taking a sip of his black, unsweetened coffee. Polite, as always, showing enough interest in your life while generally minding his own business, Nanami was the only coworker you ever really got along with. 
"Fine, fine." Both of your hands were wrapped around the cold glass full of iced coffee. "Work is shit, like always." He nodded slightly, showing you that you had his full attention. "Actually this is why I wanted to talk to you."
Adjusting to life without Sukuna was hard. You've grown so used to his presence in your life that you stopped noticing how much of a difference he made. He would be in front of your house, one hour after you turned off your work laptop, to pick you up and go for dinner. On days when you worked from the office you would meet for lunch, occasionally, or he would drop by with takeout. On weekends you would go on longer rides by car or sometimes you would hop on the back of his motorbike and go to the seaside. He was filling most of your time and, after that dreadful night, you suddenly realized you had no idea how to exist on your own.
So you buried yourself in work.
Sukuna always hated it when you worked overtime. But now that no one was texting you to be ready, entertain you with riddles about the dress code and your new destination, you found it easier to spend half an hour more fixing some issues at work. Soon it turned into full hours. In two weeks, you ended up realizing that you hated your workplace. You hardly got along with any coworker, the tasks were piling by the hour, the pay started to seem too little for the effort you were putting in. In reality, nothing had changed. Only your perception, since you had no way to blow off steam anymore. Things were easier to tolerate when you knew that you would see your boyfriend.
"I want to quit. I can't stand it anymore." Your fingers were cold and wet because of the glass. "I know you work at the institute now. If there's any vacant position sometime, could you let me know?"
You felt bad for turning to Nanami, honestly to anyone, asking for things. However, you felt the desperate need for a change in your life. Or maybe you tried to cope with the lack of Sukuna's presence in your life by changing it completely.
"I mean, we have similar background, we graduated the same program."
You felt anxious asking for a favor, especially since you haven't seen him since he resigned and only kept in touch through few messages. So you started talking too much, justifying yourself, trying to get rid of the little voice inside your head that was saying you're a burden.
"I don't even want a recommendation or something, the thing is that I know these posts aren't usually public and someone with connections ends up getting it before the normal person can apply.” The more you tried to explain yourself, the guiltier you felt. Nanami, on the other hand, patiently waited for you to finish, not interrupting or dismissing your worries.
"Of course I'll help, y/n." He said as he leaned back in his chair.
"Thank you. And sorry."
"No need. We're friends." You smiled gratefully. You could always count on Nanami.
You continued to catch up with him while munching on some pastries. You almost forgot to check your phone as often. It felt nice to talk to one of your old friends, especially since you had locked yourself inside your room for the past two weeks. At some point, over the muffled voices of people and the generic song playing in the café you heard the sound of a motorbike engine hurring on the street. You mentally cursed at your heart for beating faster, immediately associating the sound with the image of your ex-boyfriend.
"Yeah, so apparently they have been hooking up the whole time and everyone found out during the team building. It's only rumors I've heard since I didn't go." You were telling Nanami the latest gossip about some coworkers when you noticed he wasn't paying attention to your story. His eyes were focused somewhere behind you. He muttered a quick excuse for ignoring you and you turned your head to see what he was looking at.
Goddamn it.
Sukuna was piercing you with his gaze as he walked in the small café, having girls follow his tall figure with their eyes as he passed by them with determined steps. His pink hair was a mess because of the helmet he just took off and he ran a hand through his longer strands to put them back in place. You rolled your eyes when you met his gaze, clearly annoyed by what was about to happen. Somehow, coming to a small neighborhood café just to make a scene while looking unbearably attractive was easier than saying ‘I'm sorry’.
Sukuna hated when you rolled your eyes at him. Coincidentally, he found it very arousing. Being a brat was one of your specialties but it seemed that now you were testing his limits a little too much. You turned back to Nanami in an attempt to reassure him you could handle this on your own but Sukuna was already by your table before you could finish your sentence.
"You've proved your point. Let's go home." He said, looking down at you. He had his hands in his leather jacket's pockets, exuding a very laid back attitude, reinforced by the calmness of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were a toddler.
The fluttering feeling in your stomach at the sight of his handsome face, which you hadn't seen in over two weeks, was crushed by the curious and longing eyes of every girl in that damned café scanning your ex from head to toe. The mix of anger and disgust you first felt when you first saw that dreadful video had come back to every fiber of your body and you clenched your fist so tight that your nails were digging stinging holes in your palm.
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Your voice almost screeched while trying to contain your vexation.
"Y/n, I'm not playing this game anymore." He said as his large hand found the nape of your bared neck, your hair up in a high ponytail. The touch of his fingers on your skin sent bolts of excitement in your whole body, straight between your legs, and you had to rub your thighs together on the chair to brush the feeling away. Nanami sat up, ready to say something in your defense, but you had already slapped Sukuna's hand away and sat up yourself. He looked down at your smaller body with an irritated expression, the tattoos on his face making him seem even more dangerous than he actually was.
"Sorry, Kento-kun. I'll be back in five." You excused yourself with a smile before making your way out, your shoulder brushing harshly against Sukuna's chest on your way. He followed you out, and you knew all those girls' eyes were on his every move. The thought drove you insane.
"Kento-kun, huh?" Sukuna mocked you when you finally stopped under the roof in the empty inner garden of the café. Usually it was full of customers but now the rain was washing over the empty white metal tables and chairs with soothing tapping sounds. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pockets but you quickly whined in annoyance.
"Don't. I hate the smell.”
Both his eyebrows raised in a perfect mix of surprise and irritation, almost like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. You never bothered to mention this aspect whenever your eyes would follow him longingly from the bed as he would light up a cigarette after fucking you rough, one finger playing with your lower lip. He chose to dismiss the thought as his head lowered so his eyes could look directly into yours, one hand placed at the side of your head against the wall. The smell of rain combined with his familiar and comforting perfume had your knees weaken while you tried to challenge his inquiring eyes.
“It took you two weeks to find a new personality?” His look was intimidating. You weakly tried to push him away pressing your hands against his chest but he didn’t even flinch. He sneered at your false effort, enjoying the warm feeling of your hands still lingering over the fabric of his white t-shirt.
“Why are you here, S’kuna?” You asked. Every time you imagined seeing him again you hoped to express your anger coherently, determined to let every single speck of negative emotion out of your system. You wanted to yell at him, hit him, make him understand the ruckus raising inside your heart because of him. But now all you could do was look at him with pleading eyes, almost begging him to tell you what you wanted to hear, what would finally allow you to forget everything and let yourself fall in his arms again.
“I came to stop you from embarrassing yourself.” You rolled your eyes again, pushing him with more force this time. He was still unmoved. You crossed your arms under your chest, unintentionally pushing at your breasts. He could notice the slight movement at the edge of his field of view, without taking his eyes off yours. He loved that baby blue fitted t-shirt of yours, with lace around the generous cleavage. And you wore it to see Kento-kun. The way you said that man’s name echoed in Sukuna’s brain and the thought altogether made him lose his mind.
“No, you are embarrassing me.” You spat back. You couldn’t believe you really expected him to give you what you what you wanted so easily.
“Half the city knows you’re my woman.” His other hand grabbed you by the arm, as if trying to shake you out of your stubbornness. Or keep you there, so you wouldn’t leave his side, no matter if you wanted to.
“We broke up, do you need a public statement for that?” It was painful even to you to say those words. You never thought you had officially broken up, not as long as you still hoped Sukuna would get over himself and admit that he was wrong, that he would never do that again. Because he loved you. But you let those venomous words out of your mouth in an attempt to see him feel only a fraction of the hurt you were containing in your heart.
Sukuna didn’t answer. He didn’t have any smart reply for that. He looked at you in silence, the only sound echoing between the two of you being the tapping of raindrops on the ground. He really did think you were simply acting like a brat, dismissing his efforts to talk only to have him chase you. Sukuna knew you loved that and, from time to time, you would push him away so you could see him make an effort to get to you. He never understood your reasons, but he entertained your caprices, enjoying the occasional taunting resembling a mouse and a cat constantly on the hunt. This time, it didn’t seem like a game anymore.
You wanted to kiss him so badly. You wouldn’t allow yourself, though, but your eyes would move from his eyes to his lips, his plump soft lips that you desperately wanted to bite on. You had left him speechless, with a helpless look on his face that only made you pity him. Pressing your lips together, you forced yourself to leave, since your knees were weaker by the minute and your arms were aching to be around his neck.
As you turned away, his hand gently fell down your arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over your bare skin, and he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.
“Give me another chance.” Sukuna almost begged. It was a pathetic sight, the tall muscular man, dressed in all black, with tattoos on his face, his whole presence imposing and intimidating, begging a woman like you to take him back. It almost made you give up. Almost.
“Give me one good reason.” You said, surprised by the composure of your voice in contrast to the hurricane of feelings in your heart.
“I miss you.” His eyebrows were raised in a pitiful plea.
“You’ll get used to it.” It wasn’t enough. You tried to break free from his grip but he held on your wrist as if it was the only thing allowing him to breathe.
“Don’t you miss me, y/n?” There it was. When his deep voice and mesmerizing eyes were failing to reach you he would retort to emotional blackmail. Of course you missed him, you cursed at yourself when you hesitated to answer, when the loud voice in your head was screaming to you that yes, you missed him, you missed him so much and your entire life felt pointless, that you hardly enjoyed anything since you last saw him, that you missed his comforting words and his safe arms and his handsome face.
“Someone is waiting for me.” You said as he let go of your wrist.
Sukuna watched as you turned your back to him, your long ponytail wiggling in the air with every step you took further away from him. He hated to see you go. Leaning against the wall, he lit up that cigarette only after you were out of his sight. It was such a peaceful rainy day when everything seemed to have slowed down, drenched in the humid air. His eyes were fixed on one small table for two in the corner of the garden, protected from the rain by a tall tree. It was your favorite spot, in your favorite café where he would find you reading sometimes, while sipping on iced tea. You always laughed at him whenever he would pick you up from there. His dark unapproachable figure made such a big contrast with the softness of the garden full of flowers. Sukuna always thought you fit so well there, like a goddess of the spring with your flowy skirts and your pretty round face.
He sighed, a thin cloud of smoke forming in the air as it blew out of his mouth. You were so different, almost opposites. This is why you worked so well together, you completed each other. He let his head fall back, resting against the wall, as he looked at the sky that was already starting to clear up. He wasn’t going to erase that tattoo off his skin just as he wasn’t going to allow you to erase him out of your life.
《previous 1. Ultimatum next》 Ascension |
True Form! Sukuna x Reader
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tags: @siriuslyblackonback @rosaryia @st4r-s4r4 @depressiondiaries @sterzin @rowrowrowyourboat13
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fandoms--fluff · 1 year ago
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Hi I was wondering if you could do more Damon and Stefan Salvatore x teenage sister reader you’re so great at writing and I loved the other one you wrote <3
Meanie
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Flufftober, October 21st
Teenage Salvatore sister reader x Stefan Salvatore x Damon Salvatore
Warnings: swearing
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"What are you doing?" Stefan leans against the doorway of the kitchen. You're mixing cookie dough in a bowl, except the dough has some strange lumps in it.
"Baking" You look up at him before frowning at the weird consistency in the bowl. The rest of the countertops are a mess, covered with flour, sugar, and some chocolate chips that haven't made it into your mouth surprisingly.
"Are you sure about that?" Stefan raises an eyebrow. "Shut up" you grumble before pushing the bowl away.
"How about setting a place in rule for y/n to never use the kitchen. Ever" Damon walks into the room.
"Hey!" You exclaim, crossing your arms. "He's not wrong" Stefan winced at your stone cold face. "Fine! Have fun cleaning up" you walk out of the kitchen.
"What if I just grounded her" Damon takes the cloth and begrudgingly starts to wipe the counter. "There's only one thing you haven't considered about that" Stefan throws the contents of the bowl into the trash.
"Oh? And what's that" he raises an eyebrow to his younger brother. "She spends ninety percent of her time in her room" Stefan tells him while putting some ingredients away in the cupboards now.
"Right. She hates being around people. Which makes it the perfect punishment" Damon smirks, a plan clearly starting to take place in his mind.
"She's going to kill you" Stefan yells to him as he walks away.
Damon just shrugs as he makes his way up to your room.
Without knocking he enters your room. You're laying in your bed, one of Stefan's diaries in your hands. "Reading one of our brothers private things I see" Damon sits on the foot of your bed.
"Oh please, like you haven't read them all either" you fix him with the same look and place the diaries to the side. "Fair enough."
"I have a surprise for you. Not the best, but maybe it'll teach you a little lesson. And maybe a bit of people skills" Damon stands and walks closer to you. "What are you ta- hey! Put me down, Jackass" you yell as Damon lifts you up into his arms.
He carries your squirming body all the way downstairs, and makes his way to the front door. "Really, Damon?" Stefan sighs as he walks in to the hallway, not thinking he would actually follow through.
"Yep, brother" Damon smirks, reaching for the doorknob. But before he could, you swung one if your feet and smashed it against his arm, pushing yourself out of his grasp. You quickly then kneed him in the gut and swiftly snapped his neck with your hands.
Stefan slightly smiled, knowing Damon had it coming for him as he walked into the livingroom and sits on one of the couches.
Not long after you join him. You sit beside him and cuddle into your big brother's side. "Damon's mean! He tried to make me go talk to people" you pouted before nuzzling your head into him.
"I know, he's horrible isn't he?" Stefan played along, smile resting on his face. "Mhm" you agreed, pout still playing on your lips.
You stay snuggled up next to your big brother until your other big brother wakes. Then you hild km tighter to Stef and use him as basically a personal shield when the times come.
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millerscoffee · 1 year ago
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reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE
you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)
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only daddy that'll walk the line
6.2k | joel miller x f!reader
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rating: 18+ MDNI
warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk
summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.
A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol
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"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?"  You roll into the dining hall in a huff.  Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.
"Who, honey?"  Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.
He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door.  His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way.  Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you.  Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.
Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town.  It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back.  No avail.
"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.
"Do you have any manners, Christ."  He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.
"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"
"And watch your fuckin' mouth."
Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort.  Conversation over. 
"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table.  The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain.  Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.
"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.
"I'm right here, you know."  Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.
"Don't remind me.  Listen, this is a family dinner.  Go find your own."
A slap in the face would've hurt less.  Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel.  So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.
"Fuckin– eat up, then."
As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.
---
The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs.  You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.
After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.
"Didn't you hear me call you?"  His words were slurred and angry.
"Yes, I'm sorry."  It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example.  Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction.  You sound meek, scared to say something wrong.  A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment.  Almost like you wanted that from him.
"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast.  Now."  Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer.  A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.
This morning is kinder than others.  Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much.  You consider it a win.  Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner.  The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey?  It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.
You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.
"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you.  You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.
"You're one to fuckin' talk.  Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol.  Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."
"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"
"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon.  Move."
You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer.  "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.
They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate.  You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria.  He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that.  The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off.  You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.
"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"
Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard.  Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly.  "Yea, he was drunk this morning.  Your brother, too."
You slide that one in fast.
Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale.  "Shit.  We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."
"Seems like it."
You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything.  It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them.  That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest.  You don't think about his experiences that often.  But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that.  You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.
As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.
"He'll figure it out,"  you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out.  You call behind you, "I'll be around."
You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.
~~
Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them.  They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up.  And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared.  They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.
"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's?  Please?"  Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was.  It seemed to do the trick, though.  Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something.  The look is inculpatory without you doing anything.  As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you.  "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.
This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria.  She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you.  "What'd I miss?"  You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel?  Not so much.  His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him.  You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening.  Or at least trying.  It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other.  More arguing than speaking.  And the fact it wasn't happening was off.
"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.
"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions."  Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction.  It makes you scared and delighted at once.  Like he was back to normal.  Your normal.
"I was listening to her?"  You retort, and everyone's quiet now.  Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out.  "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–"  "Hey, now."  Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad.  Reflective.  Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.
You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."
On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age.  People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in.  You truly felt alone.  Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.
---
More times than not you sneak into your room.  Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult.  It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around.  Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.
You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas.  Cotton shorts and a loose tee.  Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric.  A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.
Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep.  Needing release.  Anything.
Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down.  It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different.  You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.
Or, at least you try.
Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts.  You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact.  What that would sound like against your ear.  Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt.  A craving ignites your bloodstream.
It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from.  The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?
Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass.  One step close to where you want to be.
Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace.  He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny.  A compulsion.
You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was.  Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used.  Of... making him proud.
"What?"  His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.
"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside.  The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you.  You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly.  It locks you in place.
"You came here.  Why?  Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"
You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position.  You can't think, you can't nod or say words.  You just stare.
"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans.  "How about now.  You payin' close attention?"
You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.
"Did I tell you y'could do that?"  His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment.  Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid.  Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour.  You can't think of a thing to say.  Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts.  Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.
You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him.  Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."
"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.
"I didn't, that's right.  You answer to me."  The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance.  He doesn't own you, he never fucking could.  The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose.  "What the fuck was that?"
You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.
"Not asking again."
"I rolled my ey–"
"You rolled your eyes.  Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl.  You'll regret it."
A cool threat, you think.  Meaningless, even.  What possible reproach would he have anyway?
It's then you take in the house.  You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie.  It's dark, a single lamp upstairs.  All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin.  It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close.  His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.
"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.
"Don't apologise to me.  Don't say sorry when I know you're not."  His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface.  Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit.  "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use.  I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?"  The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.
"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."
Before you know it, you're on your knees.  Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.
"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"
Joel doesn't reply straight away.  Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants.  You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light.  You choke when you see just how big he is.
He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock.  "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?"  The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise.  And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age.  You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him.  After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.
He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further.  "Fuck.  You hear that?  Nothing!  Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."
But it's not entirely nothing, is it?  Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it.  Doesn't seem to faze him much.
It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want.  The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place.  His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"
And you hated how right he was.  You wanted to scream, kick him.  Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.
Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day.  A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips.  And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock.  Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit.  It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.
Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely.  Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way.  Your gone expression.  All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth.  You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.
Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard.  "Nuh uh.  You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl.  Wake the fuck up."
Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.
All that and you're still dressed.
"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."
"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it.  Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."
The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound.  Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.
The silence speaks for itself.  He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.
"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee.  Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.
With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass.  "But somebody better teach you better manners.  Sure as shit itn’t your father."
You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth.  You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else.  "Lucky I ain't making y'count.  You'd have this for eternity now."
Not that it mattered anyway.  He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.
"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms.  Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him.  "Joel!"
“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished.  I talked so bad about you, and you liked it?  You’re as desperate as I thought.  Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.”  And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view.  Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again.  His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs.  Right where he wants you.  Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds.  He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.
“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder.  Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done.  It’s over.  All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him.  It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough.  “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring.  He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him.  You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.
“Be a good girl.”
That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with.  And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds.  The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft.  He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down.  “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her.  You want that, kitten?  Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?”  his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is.  “Put a baby right here.  Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”
You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought.  It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before.  Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this?  Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you.  How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”  His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples.  When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise.  You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge.  So close you can almost taste it.
But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you.  Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.
Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard.  His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body.  “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate.  Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin.  “No, no, please.  Why!”
His eyes could burn a hole through you.  Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you.  And he likes what he sees.  Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you.  Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing.  “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age.  But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment.  It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming.  To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.
“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please.  Please, I want this.”
“Darlin’, I know you want it.  Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder.  Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place.  “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”
And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now.  Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure.  You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s.  You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.
You hated that he made you nervous.
And you hated the hold he had over you.
But he had it, there was no doubt about it.  He had it.  He had you.
Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily.  “Please, daddy.  Please, I want this.”
“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya.  Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice.  Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you.  Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it.  He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full.  “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt.  All the way to your cervix.
His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat.  It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides.  It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.
“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,”  Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him.  Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging.  “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl?  Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.”  Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.
That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him.  “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise.  As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix.  “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”
His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you.  You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does.  The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you.  His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls.  Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you.  It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture.  Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this.  His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit.  You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.
But you’re defiant.
You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock.  You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it.  Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides.  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still.  You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him.  Did he say you could do that?  As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck.  Without his permission.  You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips.  He looks so menacing like this, scary.  You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.
But it’s too late for you.  You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you.  Make you realise the error of your ways.
His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect.  A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do.  He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react.  He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is.  As unwilling to give away freedom.  Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.
“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it.  Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much.  When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts.  You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you.  You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.
Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it.  His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing.  He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure.  “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it.  “Please, pl– it’s too much!  Daddy!”  That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone.  Again and again.  As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely.  His cock, his finger.  His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock.  How did he get hard again?!  He would deal with that on his own time.
Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something.  A release, a grind.  You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.
“What did I say, little girl?”  He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel.  “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”
You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod.  “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.  Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”
You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk.  “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”
He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are.  “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did.  Belong to me now, you understand?  Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”
And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words.  You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.
“A week?”  You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.
“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”
You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest.  “Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear.  Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole.  He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.
“Now get the fuck out of my house.”
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taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!
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tastelikezweig · 5 months ago
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SFW ALPHABET
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⚠️ warnings: not edited, i do NOT feel like reading this over lol so please just point and laugh i don’t care. suggestive language :D (i do use the f word a few times, oopsy.) if anything else needs to be added, pls let me know.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
he’s a huge fan of kissing. he’s gentle. when he sleeps over in your dorm, he’ll wake you up with pecks all over your face and neck. after your matches, he’s waiting right outside the locker room ready to high five you because you’re super sweaty. not that he sees an issue with that. he would love to pick you up and spin you around, chest to chest. he’d drink a bottle of your perspiration if he could. but you don’t allow it because you feel gross when you’re all sweaty and stinky from the match you just played. he loooves to be all over you. physical touch is his love language. it’s one of the things you love most about him. you love how sweet he is to everyone. when he walks you to your afternoon lecture, he holds the door open for every single last one of your classmates. he doesn’t let you lift a finger. he thinks that you deserve to just exist and be pretty and smart and save up your energy for the sweetest make out session he has planned with you after your class is over. he loves PDA, just holding your hand as you walk through the quad, kissing your cheeks and eyelids while you both sit the dining hall. he wishes he could consume you and live in your skin. it’s so cute and teeth rotting that people hate hanging out with either of you if the other is around.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
you had begged tashi duncan to train you for upcoming finals. when your practice came to an end, her boyfriend, patrick and his friend art came to see her. you cracked jokes about being the third and fourth wheel. he told you he felt like this all the time. you joked saying how you should start your own club and leave them out. whenever tashi and patrick would exclude you and art from their plans, you met up with him and just enjoyed each other's company. he’d make sandwiches and bring mini gatorade (your favorite flavor because he remembers the small details) for you both to sit in the quad and just eat and talk all evening until it got dark out. or until tashi or patrick called either of you to hang out after their “date” (which is obviously just them fucking in her dorm).
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
again, his love language is physical touch. he loves to hold you in bed while you read a book or just to fall asleep. you’ll be laying flat on your stomach playing with his new nintendo ds he just bought - he’d just finish showering or something and he’d crawl right on top of you. towel still hanging on his waist and hair dripping water. he’d ask “can we cuddle?” and you don’t think twice about it before rolling over and embracing him. give him a few kisses on the jaw before resting on his chest and breathing him in. your scents like melatonin for each other.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
when you and art hit a year of dating, he wouldn’t shut up about marriage. you’d remind him you’re still so young and he would go, i know, but when we get older! he loves being around you, you go grocery shopping together so you can have snacks; you’d feel like husband and wife. you would both joke about baby names but the ones you actually did like (that he’d suggested) you wrote down on a little sticky note and inserted it into your diary under the page titled: little pieces of art ᥫ᭡
art keeps his dorm clean majority of the time since he’s met you. the most you’ve seen it messy is when patrick is there for the weekend or his week is super busy but he always attempts to at least tidy the room before inviting you over. art cannot cook for shit but neither can you, so your future kids are fucked. but art can make delicious sandwiches if that counts!!
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
art is the most genuine person you know and he hates seeing your eyes tear up even just watching a movie. his heart clenches at the sight. he wouldn’t want to break up with you but things are just getting so crowded in your personal lives between trying to maintain school, work, tennis, and your relationship. you picked up a job at the nearest bookstore to help pay for your school books. you weren’t necessarily as loaded as art was. he offered to help but you just couldn’t accept any handouts. it made you feel weird. you’d be so tired after your shifts or have to go straight from class or practice to work and you never had time for him anymore. a few texts throughout the week but for someone as needy as art, it wasn’t enough. you’d accidentally stand up your dates with him because you’d fall asleep directly after class. he’d be ringing your phone and you’re out like a light. you apologized a million times and he agreed to just reschedule. on your rescheduled date it was a bit of awkward silence and lots of staring into each other's eyes. i feel like we rarely see each other anymore he’d say, tracing circles on the thighs of his jeans. you tried to explain to him how hard you were trying but he just shook his head staring into the distance. attempting to stop his tears from spilling over. the breakup was mutual, with a kiss goodbye. it actually wasn’t a forever goodbye, just for a little while until things made sense again. (You had to be the reason bc he’d NEVER leave you).
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
he wants to get married as soon you both graduate from college. he’s adorable isn’t he? it’s gonna be a no. “okay fine, not yet. but don’t fall in love with anybody else. please.”
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
he wouldn’t be rough with you unless you wanted him to be. 9 times out of 10 he’s very soft with you. his hands melting like butter on your shoulders when you ask him to massage them after matches. he’d run his hands up and down your back which makes you fall asleep almost instantly. he’s very kind with his words. when you’re upset about school or anything really he’s always there with a listening ear, very understanding. brushing the hair out of your face when he can tell your homework is frustrating you. suggests taking breaks which almost always just means a mini make out sesh until you remember you’re in the library and people are judging. you care about what outsiders think but he only has eyes for you, prioritizing your happiness above all else. he loves to kiss.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
his hugs are firm. you never want him to let you go. you love being in his grip. you could be standing in the dining hall line and he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders while you wait for the line to move. when your matches are over and you’re fully showered, he’d hug you, lifting you off of the ground. when you meet up for dates or just to hang out, he’ll grab at your lower waist and sway you side to side.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
3 months in. you were laying in the grass on the quad next to tashi and patrick, enjoying the nice cool breeze and people watching. it was stanford’s 120th anniversary, so they held a firework show. as the finale was going off, art turned to you, staring into your eyes. i love you. surprisingly, you said it first. but he followed immediately after. he fell in love with you weeks ago but he didn’t wanna freak you out. so he was glad you gave him the green light.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
he gets jealous, not very easily because he trusts you. it’s very rare he’ll act out but you’ll know something’s wrong when he goes completely mute. you’ll ask him if he’s okay, and he’ll respond ‘yup’ popping the p. he’s so sassy. earlier, he saw the guy you were talking to put his hand on your shoulder to whisper something in your ear. what’s the secret? did he have to put his hands on you? again, he trusted you, he just doesn’t trust them. you reassured him that the next time someone does something similar, you’ll kick them in the balls and he cracks a smile. and just like that, you’re back on his good side. he’s never upset for long.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
his kisses are sweet, tender, and so yummy. especially since he quit smoking. he uses a grapefruit flavored chapstick that he found in your desk a while ago and has just been using ever since. did i say you could have that? he just hums in response, sucking your lips in for another kiss.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
he wants two little ones. either a boy and a girl, or two girls. he plans on spoiling them rotten.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
when he spends the night in your room or you sleep in his, he’ll make your bed for you while you shower (or make up his own). it’s actually nice, because he helps pack your bag the night before with your essentials and fills up both of your water bottles. but anyway, he’ll heat up something in the microwave for you both to share until you can make it to the dining hall for breakfast. after about an hour after eating, you both go on a 30 minute run before parting ways for your classes of the day. he misses you all day until he can see your face again :((((
art donaldson: miss u so much already
you: i left 3 mins ago lolll.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
as mentioned before, he’ll help you prepare for the next day. if he sleeps over, he’ll organize your desk while you’re in the shower, you’ll brush your teeth together and do face masks on the weekends. it’s really cute. if he’s not over in your dorm, he’ll send you a cute little text telling you to have a goodnight, or call you while you wind down just to hear your voice before he closes his eyes.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
he’s a pretty shy boy. when you’d first met, he kept the dialogue short to avoid coming off as an annoying yapper (which he totally is) so you did most of the talking. when he gets comfortable, during one of your first few hangouts alone - you asked if he could help with your math assignment and he agreed. you got bored instantly and started asking him a fuck ton of questions about himself. he answers everything without thinking twice. he even accidentally let it slip that he once had a crush on his best friends girlfriend (which he scolded himself for almost immediately after). you just smiled and nodded the whole time trying to watch him save his own ass.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
he’ll be waiting for you after your class and it might run over time a little bit, he’ll grab a seat on the floor in the hall or on the bench outside and just wait for you. draw little doodles of you or your favorite flowers in his sketchbook. if you text him in enough time, he’ll bring you your favorite smoothie. he can’t wait til your class is over so he can kiss your pretty face that he’s missed all day.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
art is very attentive. he knows every step in your skincare routine. he has the order memorized. when you’re done with the first step, he’s already handing you step two. he knows the gum flavor you prefer, your class schedule, your practice schedule, etc. what he doesn’t seem to remember is to put the toilet seat down after he’s done. he’d mumble sorry and then proceed to do it again 30 mins later.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
he took you to the state fair and you both stayed at the ring toss for like an hour. you were so determined you were going to win - you spent $50 for 10 tries. you didn’t even win but while you were in the bathroom, he bribed the man $100 to let him have the huge stuffed penguin that you wanted to win so bad. when you came out you screamed “did you win me this?!” he just went along with it because he adored the smile on your face and the joy in your voice, he loved the thought of him making you the happiest girl ever.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
he treats you like you’re accident prone or something like when you squat down to pick up something that fell underneath the table, he covers the sharp edges to make sure you don’t hit your head. he double checks to make sure your laces are tied on the court and you slide your foot back and remind him, you’re not a child and you can tie your own shoes!!! he just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. walks you to your dorm if it’s dark. calls you during your early morning runs without him. if you get into it with one of the girls on the team, he doesn’t intervene because you always tell him to stay out of women’s business, but if it involves a guy, he’s on that immediately. he doesn’t even want you engaging in their weird behavior. he argues for you but you’re definitely in the background ad-libbing.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
he tries super hard but tries not to seem suffocating. he fits everything in his life around your schedule. he has a gift for you for any anniversary, 1 month, 1 year, birthdays, etc. he takes you out to celebrate your wins even if that just means getting you a chocolate croissant from your favorite cafe down the street. whatever you want, whenever you want it. anything to keep you happy. he wants to set the bar so high that you’re not looking any other guy's way.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
leaving the toilet seat up, going silent when he’s jealous, stepping out of his clothes in the bathroom and leaving them there in a pile, as much as you love it, he’ll drop everything for you on the spot. you’ll see him with his friends outside and go to greet them. he’ll tell you they’re going to hang out at his friends place and you mention you’re also hanging out, going to the theater with your friend and he’ll say never mind, can I go with you? and you shut it down quickly “no go hang out with your own friends!” and they’d all clown him afterwards.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
he’s chill. he doesn’t really have a style, he wears whatever is clean. his closet is full of stanford merch and you tell him he needs to go shopping but he’ll say “what i’m wearing is just fine, thank you.” see. sassy.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
he literally can’t breathe without you it seems like. you’re his heartbeat. he’s feeling whatever emotion you’re feeling.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
he communicates his affection through small gestures, like holding hands during quiet walks or wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders when you’re watching a movie together. words aren't always necessary to convey his feelings.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
hates loud chewing of food, but you argue that he does it too - with his gum. defending people when he’s arguing with them ‘why do you do that?’ you just keep it real. tashi called his ball out and he was arguing that she isn’t valid, but she’s right :( it was definitely out.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
sleeps with his mouth open, so he often gets a sore throat lol, his arm draped across your chest or back. legs tangled with yours. has to be touching you in some way to fall asleep when you’re together.
sorry if this sucks, bye!
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blitzyn · 1 year ago
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relax
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alhaitham x m!reader
Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo
a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠。⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠。⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much
wc -> 3.6k
cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read
merry christmas and happy holidays!!
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To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.
First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.
And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.
You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.
Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.
Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.
"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."
He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.
"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."
"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."
"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."
He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."
You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.
"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."
But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."
"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.
Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."
He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.
"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.
"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.
"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."
He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.
You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.
You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.
He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.
It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.
Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.
"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."
"But that doesn't—"
He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"
He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."
"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.
"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."
You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.
"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.
"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"
You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.
Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.
He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.
He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.
"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."
You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.
Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.
You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.
"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?
Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.
You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.
“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.
“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.
You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”
“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.
You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.
He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.
Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.
“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”
“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.
“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.
“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.
“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.
“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.
“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.
You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.
“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”
As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.
"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.
"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.
"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."
You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.
"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."
He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.
The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.
"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.
"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.
His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."
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mingtinysworld · 19 days ago
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How would the ateez members react to you writing fanfiction?
Me and my bestie @bananayuyu had this convo, so it’s inspired by her also hehe. I hope you enjoy this headcannon
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Hongjoong
Hongjoong would love it so much. He would make it a challenge that every time you post something new, he would do exactly what you wrote that night. He would make every night so enjoyable for you, and it would honestly give you the motivation to keep writing every day.
“I liked what you wrote in the last chapter baby.” He says as he leaves soft kisses along your neck.
Seonghwa
Seonghwa would love it, and he would be flattered, but he would be so shy. SO shy. He would blush, and he would stutter, and he would cutely ask to read it. As he reads, his heart would flutter, and he has to take a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart.
“You’re ok Seonghwa, you can survive this, it’s ok.”
Yunho
If Yunho found you writing fics about him, he would “scold” you. Saying how you have the real thing right in front of you. However, as soon as you’re out of sight, he grabs your laptop and opens up to your writing, where he starts to read, intrigued. At some details, he gets fired up.
“What do you mean I have black hair?? I clearly have brown hair, geez this girl can’t write.” And then he goes right back to reading until it’s early morning.
Yeosang
Yeosang would be totally horrified. He reads one sentence and he immediately runs away, needing to shield his eyes.
“WHAT ARE YOU WRITING MY GOD”
“Yeosang chill, it’s not that crazy.”
“No no no no where’s the bleach please I need to unsee this help meeeee.”
Yeah he’s a bit dramatic
San
San would be a wildcard. He would either absolutely love it, or he would absolutely hate it. He most likely would get jealous, even if the story is about him.
“What, I’m not enough for you so that you have to write about other men?” He says while folding his arms, cute pout prominent.
“San, baby, I’m literally writing about you! Why are you jealous”
“Well you have me right in front of you.”
Mingi
Mingi would pretend like he doesn’t love it, but he’s downright filthy. He takes out a note pad and sits you down and has you read to him, while he takes notes on exactly what you like.
“Ok so here we have bondage, temperature play, primal play, sir kink”
“Mingi hold on, what are you even doing?”
“Taking notes babe, what does it look like I’m doing?”
Wooyoung
Wooyoung would absolutely love it, he wouldn’t even hide it. As soon as you admit you write fics about him, his eyes would light up, and he would feel flattered. He follows your tumblr and ao3 blog, and regularly reads your fics, and even gives feedback.
“Wow Y/n, you did so good on this one. What I would do differently is use a different adjective here maybe?? And then these typos here…etc etc”
Jongho
He is secretly a FREAK. He acts disgusted by the idea of you writing filthy scenes. His lip curls in disgust and he rolls his eyes, but deep inside he’s so unbelievably happy. He loves that you’re writing about him, and he even takes some inspiration from them.
“I had no idea Y/n was into this, I might give it a try.”
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