#i’m getting another one to work more days | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mingi-s-dimples · 2 days ago

Text

Laced in Couture - C.SN

"Whenever I’m away from you.. I get closer and closer to insanity.”

~ a special for today's dgfw25.. because I simply couldn't resist.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+, slightest filth, fashion au, model au

summary: san just couldn't take his eyes off you at the show, even if he was the model himself... and he ruins you.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: san is needy and desperate af, slightly teasy reader, model x manager, fashion au, kitchen sex on a counter, he's so desperate he doesn't get fully undressed, lots of kissing, neck kissing, manhandling, teasing, pussy eating, cum eating, unprotected (boo use protection irl!), completely consensual, might have forgotten something, might edit later.

author's note: everyone around me had to hold me from falling and turning into dust when i saw how this man looked today.. hello >.< he's fucking insane... and it's even more insane *upcoming bia fun fact and childhood lore* that i've been a dolce & gabbana fan and fashion hard fan since I was.. 9 or 10. so when he was announced as an ambassador y'all can bet i ran 50 laps that day. anyways here's a small fic combining two of my most prized obsessions: san and dg.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

Milan had been a fever dream. A whirlwind of flashing cameras, hushed conversations in back corridors, and the ever-present scent of expensive perfume and burning stage lights. Fashion Week had its own rhythm—fast, relentless, intoxicating. Models, designers, managers, press—all moving in a delicate choreography, where one misstep could ruin an entire show. And yet, amidst all of it, there had been him.

Choi San, draped in Dolce & Gabbana, skin kissed by the stage lights, walking with the kind of controlled, effortless confidence that made people stop breathing. He was untouchable out there, a vision sculpted in luxury, every step leaving an imprint in the air. But you knew the truth. Knew what lay beneath the carefully constructed poise—the way his fingers twitched slightly when he walked off stage, adrenaline rushing through him, the way his eyes always found you first in the crowd. No one else noticed, but you did. Because you knew him.

No one else knew about the nights spent behind closed doors, the whispered words between hurried touches, the stolen glances in rooms too full of people. The industry thrived on secrecy, on illusion, and the two of you had perfected the act. In public, you were just a manager, and he was just another model. But behind locked doors?

That was something else entirely.

Now, Fashion Week was over. The lights had dimmed, the crowds had dispersed, and the city had exhaled its last breath of excitement. Milan was quiet again. And so were you, sitting in the back of a black car, your body still buzzing with the adrenaline of the past few days. Your phone vibrated once in your hand. A single message.

"Penthouse. Door’s open."

Your heartbeat tripped.

San wasn’t one for unnecessary words, but that didn’t mean his messages weren’t heavy with meaning. Penthouse. The place he had been staying—hidden away from the chaos, away from prying eyes.

The car pulled up in front of the sleek, modern building, the kind that exuded wealth and exclusivity. You stepped out, heart hammering, fingers tightening around your phone. The elevator ride felt endless, anticipation coiling low in your stomach.

When the doors slid open, the hallway was silent. And just as he’d promised—the door was unlocked.

You stepped inside, closing it softly behind you. The space was dimly lit, the glow of the city outside spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was beautiful, expensive, but your eyes didn’t linger on the decor. Because there—leaning against the kitchen counter, dark eyes locked onto you—was San.

Still dressed from earlier, black slacks hanging low on his hips, a half-unbuttoned shirt revealing the golden skin beneath. He was watching you, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips, his head tilted slightly in that way he did when he was waiting for you to make the first move.

And just like that, the last few days, the restraint, the distance—it all melted away.

Because here, behind closed doors, there was no need for pretense.

There was only him. And you.

Your heels clicked softly against the marble floor as you stepped further inside, the air between you humming with something electric. San hadn’t moved from where he leaned against the counter, but his gaze was heavy, dark, intent.

“You were unbelievable tonight,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, still caught in the spell of watching him command the runway. “The way you carried yourself, the confidence—San, I swear, the entire room was holding its breath.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, barely acknowledging the words, but his body had started moving. Slow, deliberate steps, closing the space between you inch by inch. His fingers toyed with the next button of his shirt, slipping it undone, exposing more of the golden skin underneath. “That so?”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting your head. “Yes. You were stunning, San. The way you—”

The next button popped open. Another step forward.

You caught the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes before his hands moved again—this time, undoing the last button in one slow, teasing motion. His shirt hung open now, framing the toned planes of his torso, the silver chain against his skin glinting under the city lights.

“Are you even listening to me, baby?” you asked, amusement lacing your voice, though your breath hitched slightly when he reached you.

San’s hands found your waist immediately, warm and insistent, pulling you flush against him. His lips hovered just above yours, his breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “Haven’t heard a single word, love.” His voice was low, thick with want. “I’m too gone for you.”

And just like that, his lips were on your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin as his fingers gripped at your waist, at the fabric of your clothes, needing more, needing all of you.

You bit back a smile, pretending to ignore the way his lips were trailing heat along your neck, his fingers gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d slip away. Instead, you let your hands wander up his chest, your touch featherlight, barely there.

“Too gone for me, huh?” you teased, your voice sweet, playful, your nails tracing the curve of his collarbone. “Then maybe I should keep talking, just to see if you can actually focus—”

San exhaled sharply through his nose, and before you could say another word, his hands were cupping your jaw, tilting your face up just so—and then his lips were on yours, claiming.

The kiss was deep, urgent, his mouth moving over yours with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. His fingers slid into your hair, tilting your head to deepen it, his body pressing flush against yours, letting you feel just how affected he was. His teeth scraped your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, pulling a quiet, breathless sound from you.

“There,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, satisfied. “That shut you up, didn’t it?”

You would’ve fired back with something equally teasing, but then his hands were on your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted you with effortless strength, setting you down on the cool marble countertop.

Your knees bracketed his hips as he settled between your legs, his touch everywhere at once—hands splaying over your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your skin, lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“God, you’re unreal,” he breathed, fingers slipping to the first button of your shirt. He took his time, unfastening it slowly, brushing his knuckles against your skin with every movement. His touch was soft, reverent, but his body was needy, his hips pressing closer, his breath uneven as he drank you in.

He pushed the fabric apart, his fingertips tracing lightly over your newly exposed skin, his lips trailing down the column of your throat. “So perfect,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, warmer, almost possessive. “I don’t know how I lasted all week without this.”

His hands tightened on your waist, his lips finding yours again—deeper this time, almost desperate.

A slow, knowing smirk curled at your lips as you shifted slightly, your legs tightening around his hips. The movement pressed him closer—enough for you to feel the unmistakable hardness beneath his slacks, straining against the expensive fabric.

San’s breath stuttered, his fingers flexing against your waist, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he pressed closer, as if daring you to acknowledge what you’d done to him.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence, but your hand was anything but as it trailed down his chest, over the planes of his stomach, before finally reaching the bulge between his legs.

Your fingers traced the outline slowly, deliberately, watching the way his jaw clenched, how his lashes fluttered as he exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Hm,” you mused, your voice laced with amusement. “You are faaar gone for me.”

San let out a breathy chuckle, but it was strained—like he was barely holding on. Then, in one swift movement, he caught your wrist, pressing it down against the counter beside you. His other hand grabbed the edge of your blouse, and before you could tease him again, he finished undoing the last buttons, peeling the fabric from your shoulders, exposing you completely to him.

His gaze devoured you, dark eyes trailing over every inch of newly revealed skin, his lips parting slightly, his tongue flicking out to wet them as he swallowed. His grip on your wrist loosened, his palm sliding down your arm, fingers ghosting over your ribs before settling on your waist, his touch possessive.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, voice thick with need. His hands squeezed at your sides, his hips pressing forward.

Then, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You know.. I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your fingers clutching at his arms as he kissed down your throat, down the curve of your shoulder.

And judging by the way his fingers were trembling slightly against your skin, you knew—he wasn’t just saying it.

He meant it.

San didn’t waste a second. The moment those words left his mouth, his hands were on you—gripping, touching, taking. His fingers slid down your back, over your waist, then lower, bunching up the fabric of your skirt with a sharp tug.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands roaming everywhere.

His lips crashed against yours, messy and desperate, while his fingers hooked into your panties. He didn’t even bother easing them down properly—just pulled them aside, then down, letting them slip past your thighs before he tossed them somewhere onto the kitchen floor.

Your breath hitched, and he felt it. Felt the way your thighs tensed slightly around his hips, how your fingers curled into his arms. He groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip the back of your knees, pulling you open for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost pained, his fingers trailing over the soft skin of your inner thighs. “You know what you do to me, don’t you?”

You barely had time to answer before he reached down, fumbling with his belt. His fingers were quick, impatient, pushing his slacks down just enough—just to his knees, no further. He couldn’t be bothered to take them off completely. Not when he needed you now.

And then he was pressing forward, his body crowding you against the counter, his cock heavy and hard, brushing against your bare skin.

His hands never stopped moving—gripping at your waist, sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples, before skimming down again, squeezing, claiming.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered against your lips, panting now, his fingers digging into your hips as he lined himself up. “I can’t—”

And then he was pushing in, his head dropping to your shoulder, a wrecked moan slipping from his lips.

“Jesus, baby,” he gasped, his arms wrapping around you completely, holding you flush against him. His hands wouldn’t stop—palming over your back, up to your shoulders, back down to your ass, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you the most.

“God, you feel unreal,” he groaned, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your throat, his hips already rolling into you, deep and slow, like he wanted to savor it.

But you could tell—his control was slipping. His breath was uneven, his fingers gripping at you like he needed to anchor himself, his body shuddering slightly every time he buried himself deeper.

And then, in a voice so desperate it nearly broke you—

“I need you.”

His lips crashed against yours again, his thrusts growing faster, rougher, his hands gripping at your waist like he was trying to pull you closer, trying to consume you completely.

Your breath hitched as he bottomed out, your walls stretching around him, the ache bordering on overwhelming. He was thick, every inch of him forcing your body to accommodate him, and he knew it. He felt it—the way your walls clenched around him, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, the way your thighs trembled against his hips.

“Shit,” San rasped, his forehead dropping against yours again, his breath ragged, uneven. “So fucking tight—so perfect.”

His thrusts stuttered for just a second, his hands tightening on your waist, as if he was trying to breathe through it, to keep himself from absolutely losing it. But then—

“...these damn glasses,” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. In one swift motion, he reached up, yanking them off and tossing them onto the counter beside you without a second thought. And as soon as they were gone, it was like something in him snapped. And of course, you thought that was so hot.. that you clenched your thighs further on his hips, pulling yourself flusha against him

His hands were back on you instantly, gripping, pulling, dragging you into him as he fucked into you with a newfound desperation. His teeth scraped over your jaw, his lips trailing fire down your neck, his breath hot and needy against your skin.

“Look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with lust, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze. His now bare eyes were blown wide, pupils dark and hungry, his brows furrowed in something close to agony. “You’re taking me so well—fuck, I could stay inside you forever.”

His hips snapped forward, rough and deep, pulling a choked gasp from your throat. He drank it in like a man starved, his fingers digging into your skin, his body pressing you so tightly against the counter that you had nowhere to go, no way to escape the way he was completely wrecking you.

“Feels so good,” he panted, his lips brushing yours with every ragged breath. “You feel so fucking good—I can’t—fuck”

And the way he said it—so raw, so utterly desperate—made something inside you snap.

His thrusts turned frantic, his rhythm faltering as he slammed into you, hips stuttering against yours. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the sheer effort of holding on just a little longer. But he was so close—you could feel it in the way his grip tightened, in the way his moans grew more desperate, in the way his cock throbbed inside you, thick and pulsing, dragging against your walls with every deep, shuddering thrust.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his head dropping against your shoulder, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against your flushed skin. “Baby, I—fuck, I can’t hold it—I’m gonna—”

And then, with one final, wrecked thrust, he broke.

A deep, guttural moan ripped from his chest as he came, his arms locking around you, pulling you impossibly close. His entire body tensed, his hips pressing flush against yours as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding deep, his fingers digging into your skin like he needed to hold onto something or else he’d completely fall apart.

His breath was ragged, his body shuddering slightly as he rode out his high, his lips still pressing weak, open kisses against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—like he needed to worship you even as he unraveled.

But then—his breath hitched. His fingers flexed against your thighs.

And suddenly, despite his own exhaustion, his head lifted. His dark, blown-out eyes flickered down between your bodies, taking in the way you were still trembling, still clenching, still needing.

And just like that, his own pleasure wasn’t enough.

“No,” he murmured, his voice still breathless but laced with something firmer. “My baby hasn’t come yet.”

Before you could even process his words, he was pulling out, a slick mess of both of you trailing down your thighs. But he didn’t give you a second to mourn the loss—because the next thing you knew, he was dropping to his knees.

His hands grabbed at your thighs, spreading you open again, his breath hot against your soaked, swollen skin. And then—

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he stared. “So messy. So pretty.”

And then his mouth was on you.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his tongue flattened against you, licking a slow, deep stripe through your folds, gathering up every last drop of you and him combined. He moaned at the taste, his hands tightening their grip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

And then he devoured you.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping back down, thrusting into you, lapping at everything you had to offer. His pace was ruthless, desperate—like he needed this just as much as you did, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until you were shaking, crying for him.

“Come for me,” he groaned against your heat, his voice wrecked, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as he pulled you closer. “Come on, baby—let me feel you.”

San did not let up. If anything, your sounds—those breathy little gasps and whimpers—only fueled him, made him even hungrier. His tongue worked relentlessly, dragging through your folds, swirling over your clit, sucking and devouring like he couldn’t get enough of you. His nails dug into your thighs, spreading you wide, keeping you right where he wanted—helpless, shaking, his.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” he groaned against you, his lips slick, messy, his voice thick with obsession. “So sweet, baby—so fucking mine.”

And then—his fingers.

One pressed against your entrance, then two, sliding in so easily from how wet you were. He groaned at the way you clenched around them, his tongue never stopping, flicking, sucking, teasing, demanding your pleasure.

“Fuck—so tight,” he rasped, curling his fingers, stroking right there, right where you needed. “Gonna come for me, baby? Hm?”

Your entire body tensed, your thighs shaking against his shoulders, your breath breaking into short, desperate gasps. You were so close—too close. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, curling perfectly, his lips wrapping around your clit—

“San—wait, I—ah—!”

But it was too late.

The pleasure slammed into you like a tidal wave, your back arching against the counter, your fingers tangling in his hair as you came, hard, uncontrollably, a broken moan spilling from your lips. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your thighs trembling as the orgasm tore through you, overwhelming, mind-numbing.

And San? He didn’t stop.

His tongue lapped up every drop, his fingers still moving, working you through it, dragging out every last tremor, every last pulse of pleasure. He groaned as you clenched around him, as you gasped his name, as you trembled beneath his mouth.

“Fuck,” he panted and looked up at you, still on his knees, his voice raw, ruined. “You look so pretty when you come, baby.”

San finally pulled back, his fingers slipping from you, leaving you trembling against the counter. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, trailing them up your stomach, over the curve of your ribs, all the way to your heaving chest. When he finally reached your lips, he kissed you softly, a stark contrast to how he had just wrecked you.

His hands found your waist, lifting you onto unsteady feet. The second your legs wobbled, a breathless chuckle escaped him, and he tightened his hold, steadying you against his body.

“Shit, baby,” he murmured, smirking against your temple. “You can barely stand.”

You let out a weak laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder, your fingers gripping his biceps for balance. But then, as you pulled back slightly, your gaze dropped—and you saw it.

San’s cock was still achingly hard, standing thick against his abs, flushed and leaking, twitching slightly with every deep breath he took.

You giggled, lifting a shaky hand to brush over his abdomen, teasing. “What about you?”

San groaned, tilting his head back with an exasperated sigh, his fingers flexing against your waist. “We’ll take care of that later,” he muttered, though the way his jaw clenched told you just how difficult that decision was for him.

You arched a brow, still teasing. “Later?”

His dark eyes flickered back to yours, burning with something deep, possessive. His hands slid down to grip your ass, pulling you tight against him, making sure you felt just how hard he still was.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice low, almost dangerous. “Because if I fuck you again right now, I won’t stop—and I need you in one piece, baby.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but before you could respond, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear.

“Whenever I’m away from you,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, “I get closer and closer to insanity.” His hands squeezed at your hips, his breath hot against your skin. “You ruin me, baby.”

And the way he said it—so raw, so needy—made you realize one thing.

You were absolutely not done for the night.

NETWORKS: @illusionnet @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @memorabxlia @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx @joyfulcadence @puppytruther

#ateez fanfic #mingi s dimples masterlist #illusionnet #blossomnet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #ateez #smut fic #ateez smut #smut #san fic #san x reader #san smut #choi san #dolce & gabbana #san dolce & gabbana

322 notes · View notes

hhughes · 1 day ago

Text

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333

#꒰ 🗄️ ꒱ — 𝓗hughes #꒰ 📂 ꒱ — 𝓗hughes > fics #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic

366 notes · View notes

witerh · 2 days ago

Text

To have. To hold. To breed. || husband re: vendetta!leon

NSFW!

warnings: fluff, soft/dom, reader!housewife, kisses, on the table, pussy eating, hole inspection, fingering, mating prees, deep fuck, ovulation, impreg, aftercare

notes: i admired asmr and my imagination was not enough to come up with another name, lmao (my one of the drabbles on dirty stories with leon for women's day, other drabbles can be seen on my ao3)

rating: mature

summary: leon step through the front door, he accosted by his woman. the smell of your cooking, the sound of your moving about in the kitchen. he have no choice but to follow his senses. when he sees you, all sweet and lush and prettied up for him, every ounce of tiredness in his body fades and the only thing on his mind becomes...

It's already sparkling outside, darkness fills the horizon and the noise and smell of cooking fills your home. You were standing at the stove, preparing dinner in the form of chicken and a side dish.

The muffled roar of a motorcycle distracts you, because most likely…

It is your husband coming home from work.

Leon’s life as a government agent was full of danger and chaos — his missions took him to the darkest corners of the world, and it often felt like he was married to his job, not to you.

The traumas were already in his brain dented with nightmares and memories as if for the first time. Every mission weighs on Leon more than the last. He hasn’t been the same since Raccoon City, and every year seems to put more strain on him than the last.He’s getting older now. His line of work has never given him the opportunity to settle down and start a family — not that any girl would want a guy who drunk himself half to death.

But you are like someone else and despite the obstacles of his work you were able to become something more than friends.Now you and Leon have been together for many years, not counting the year of your marriage. There were hard times and pleasant things, but you always got through it together.

He tries to spend more time with you, to be closer and more open, to communicate more with friends and acquaintances. This attempt to get rid of the burden of the past helps.

The smile has begun to appear on his face much more often when he is in your pleasant and cozy company. He is already on the mend and may be able to get rid of his nightmares.

Thanks to the psychologist.

Leon was coming home from work after hours of nonstop reports and paperwork, the younger recruits dumping all of their mess onto the old man. He fiddled with his keys before opening the front door to his house, huffing to himself as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.He quickly stripped off his jacket, hanging it up before going further into the not quiet house. All faded away as he saw his precious little wife cooking on the kitchen; this gorgeous view from the back along with a fitted apron and a cute bow at the back, this hand stirring something (which he is always sure of it) delicious in a frying pan.

Wrinkles appeared on his handsome face when he smiled and you immediately noticed his steps.

Familiar arms wrapped around your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back while he inhaled your scent against your neck. “Well aren’t you a beauty standing at the stove… beautiful as a picture for me”, he whispers into the crook of your neck.

“Hey, Leon”, he doesn’t see your smile but you are very happy to see him. You turned your head towards him to catch a glimpse of him melting in your presence. “You should take a shower and then you can hug as much as you want.”

“I know I’m all dirty, but let me hold you for a moment.” He breathes deeply and fully. “I just need my girl in my arms.”

But despite your words, he doesn’t leave you, just sighs deeply and hums. Finally, he can relax from all this paperwork.

“I missed you, princess”, he surrenders in your arms, his shoulder muscles relaxing. “The work was hard, I had to take on all the work myself… These recruits can’t be relied upon.”

“All this time I could only think about how I would return home to my sweet wife.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, swear on my heart”, he confesses to you. “I knew you’d be here, beautiful, sweet smelling, with something on the table to fill my belly. Remind me why I work so hard…”

He falls silent again, closes his eyes and breathes calmly while you work over the stove. But something catches his attention, causing him to open his eyes and move his head off your shoulder, but not pull away from your back. He tilted his head to the side, and damn, a smile appeared on his lips at the sight before his eyes. His eyes were already sparkling with joy and it seemed like the fatigue had instantly fallen from his shoulders.

“Hold on now, what is this?” He laughs deeply, grinning toothily. “You’re already trying to push your fat ass against my cock, like if you’re hungry for it… Are you desperate yet, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you bites bottom lip and your back arches slightly. You’re sure he’s noticed it too. “Yes, I am. I need you so much, Le—…”

“Yeah?” he asks again, interrupting you mid-sentence and you were left with your mouth open in bewilderment. “Here’s how… I need to see myself make sure my sweet wife needs «help» as much as she says.”

He pulled away from you, turned and looked around the table set: lace tablecloth with plates and forks and this is for you both this evening. You always set the table for your dinner or breakfast. Everything has to be perfect, right?

“Every night you set this table so pretty, even when it’s just you and me sitting at it.” he moans in pleasure looking at all this beauty. “As much as I want to ruin that, I need something to lay you down on.”

He admired and still admires this, that you bring everything to perfection, but now it interferes a little with his plans. He pushed the plates away with his hand, making a dull thud as the dishes smashed against each other, causing you to look back at the sound.

At one point he grabs your hand and gently pushes you onto the edge of the table that he cleared especially for you. “Mhmm… There you go.” he guides you, helping you to sit more comfortably. “Lie down right here, precious.”

“Keep your legs over this table, push your butt against edge…” He nods, watching as you try to do as he asks. “There you go, good girl…”

“Now spread those pretty thighs open.”You spread your legs, looking puzzled at Leon and his face as he examines what’s under the apron. And you’re there without panties: as strange as it may seem, you were already wet. That's nature.

“Look at this delicious little pussy,” he notices teasingly, leaning closer to your core. “You’re already hungry for it, aren’t you?

”His breath touched your sensitive skin and it was pleasant — you could admit it but with great defeat. If only you knew that you had already lost...

“Oh!” you sigh and blush at his words. You can’t just give in to your husband and tell him that you missed him all day. “What are you talking about?…”

“You know what am i talking about right now. It’s all juices on your thighs… they flow down right on your ass on…” he notices, looking up at your face and then back between your legs. “Let me give my hands under knees to open you up.”

You didn’t object, you just spread your legs even more for him to make it easier. Your fingers tightened on the edge of the table, your knuckles even turned white.

His strong hands grabbed you under the knee, the other placed on his shoulder as he brought his face closer to your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your lower lips.

“God damn, sweetheart… she’s so pretty that I just wanna…”

Lips pressed against your pussy, wrapping them around your clit, kissing and licking, giving and encouraging attention to this pearl. He heard your surprised cry with pleasure and pushed him to go further, but your legs reflexively wanted to squeeze together, to which he looked up at you.It was hard to resist locking his legs together and he chuckled because of it.

“Ohh… Nah-huh, baby, they stay open for as long as I want it be,” He pouts weakly, pretending to be offended. “Don’t pretend you don’t want it.”

“Don’t pretend you just accidentally forgot to put on panties this morning.”

“Damn, you found me out,” you laughed. “Okay, I won't. Just don't stop, okay?”

He nods with satisfaction at your answer. “Mhmm, good. So keep those gorgeous thighs open for me…”

The tongue flicks at your clit, sucking and lightly touching it with his lips, but quickly replacing the pain with his lips. He changed and played with the clit, using his tongue first and then his lips, making you go crazy.

He explores your vagina, giving it his time and attention, for which you are so grateful to him. He is already skilled at this and it is not difficult for him to go down a little lower… and, oh, your humming encourage him as his tongue penetrates you, so full of your juices.

Leon enjoys your excited sighs, even a little proud that he can satisfy his little wife like this.The tip of the nose does not forget to replace his lips and presses enough while he works a little lower and wets his bristles which gently tickles you.

“Fuck, you are just flowing,” he is breathing heavily. “…I swear I can do this all day… all night.”

“Oh my God, Leon”, you grip his hair tightly, guiding him with a strong grip. “I feel so go-o-od… Please don’t stop..”

“You like it, huh?” he smiles weakly and does not resist your fingers, allowing herself to be your puppet. “Of course you like it when I run my tongue over your needy clit…”

Based on his words, he lifts his head and again his tongue attacks your clit, circling it with the tip and lubricating it with warm saliva. From your clit he moves down again, painfully slowly, making your body shudder with need.

“Fuck, I love the way your pussy looks after I run my tongue all over it,” He moves his face away a couple of centimeters to see what he has done to you. “…What if I just run my thumb over this littlе clit just like…”

And your “ahh!” reaction makes him laugh deeply and keep his thumb pinched a little longer for fun. “Tha-at’s, baby…”

His hands were getting tired of holding your hips, and as much as he wanted to explore you with his tongue, he had to use his fingers to do it. You don't mind, do you?

“Put your hands behind your knees, keep your legs open for your husband, sweetheart,” he still leaves your pussy unattended in order to remove his hands from under your knees. “so that he could carefully these holes looking over…”

“Yes…” you nod and as quickly as possible replace his strong grip with your weaker one.

Pulling his face away a little, his fingers came into play. His index finger began to circle around your vagina, collecting all your moisture and his saliva. “This little pussy looks so tight…”

“It doesn’t matter how many times I fuck her, right?” he raises an eyebrow at you and then at your pussy before carefully starting to enter inside. “She always hugs me, good and tight.”

“Damn.. yea-ah,” You grit your teeth, feeling all the moisture surrounding his long finger. “She was made for you.”

“Ohhh, look how it flows…” He draws your and his attention to this, already noticing how the juices have moved to his knuckles. “Is this pussy really desperate for my cock, sweetheart?”

“That’s little hole beg me to hurry up and come inside?” At his next tease, you nod desperately, asking for the little he can do for you: “Please don’t stop looking me over.. and hurry up, I want your dick.”

“Okay, baby, okay. I’m not giving you dick yet, i’m don’t stop looking you over.” he comforts you, running his hand over your cheek. “I have to make sure my sweet wife is okay, right?”

“Yes, you are right, Leon,” You nod, looking at him and agreeing, because he can’t leave his wife desperate and needy on their kitchen table.

“Safe and ready to breed up, nice and full…” he ponders, looking again at your dripping pussy. “I can give you something… how about the finger?”

“The finger?” you ask him again with interest.

“Maybe one of your thumbs will help cool this hot pussy down a little?” he looks up at your face and asks you because he wants you to enjoy. “Howdo you think?”

“Yes, I want your finger,”

“Let’s see…”

His finger penetrates into the hot place inside you, where it is so hot and wet. Your walls squeeze his knuckles so hard that he can only breathe deeply.

“Damn it, precious, did you follow all the rules for me?”

“Make sure nothing gets in that pussy until daddy gets in there…” he praises, his finger begins to pump inside you, starting at a slow pace and touching your vulnerable spots so that you bend over on this edge of the table. “No wonder you’re so eager for it.”

“Uh-huh, I was only waiting for you…” you hum with ragged breaths as he tortures you with this tempo and those blue eyes right on yours. “I need you.”

“You are here alone, in this house, all day, and you have nothing to feed on except thoughts and memories”, he assumes and now gives you what you wanted all day while he was not in your cozy corner. He is already trying to correct your situation with his finger. “I guess it’s clear now why you crave my dick every time I step foot in the door everyday…”

The pace suddenly quickened, your juices flowing down your thighs and further down to your ass cheeks. His face leans closer and he kisses the tip of your nose, blowing his hot breath on your hot face: “Damn, you’re too wet today, baby.”

“Just look at your ass… it’s all wet too.” he thoughts and pulls away from your face still continuously stretching you before stopping and returning her gaze to you. “Speaking of…”

He pulls his finger out with a wet pop and he immediately hears your whine through clenched teeth. The emptiness inside you didn’t suit you at all. “Hush, hush, hush, don’t cry, sweetie. Daddy will be inside you again soon.”

“You have one more hole I need to check on,” he consoles you with assured words. “Even if I don’t use it today, it’s my husband’s responsibility to make sure, that his wife is in top shape… and that includes her tight little ass.”

You choked. Your walls gripped him tightly and he sighed heavily. He hasn’t fucked you in the ass for a long time, so now you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck… looks like this cute little hole is hungry too,” He puffs and moves his finger back and forth. “I might have to make an effort to use it more often… to make sure she gets as much love as your little pussy.”

The finger began to move more actively inside your hole, to stretch you and tease you enough to hear “aghh” of yours in response.

“Your juices are everywhere. Atta girl.” he remarks with a cheerful tone, looking at how your pussy is oozing more and more. “On me, on you, on the tablecloth.”

A light trickle of your arousal flows right down your ass and he enjoys watching it. So wonderful. But he had to let your holes rest for a moment because his patience was running out.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he announces to you, hearing your whining, because he left you empty. “I need in.”

His fingers unfasten his belt with a loud thud, followed by his fly. His trousers are slightly below his knees. He bares his cock, grabbing the base and using his fist to stroke himself a couple of times, even though precum has already appeared on the tip.

“Are you ready, honey?” he asks to which you nod and say the cherished “yes”. He accepts your answer and, gripping the base, enters you with a heavy sigh.

He allow himself to run the tip of his cock over your wet folds, down and up, and then along before gently entering. He sighs feeling you squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck… that’s it, honey, I’ve got your legs.” With a strong grip, he replaces your hands and does not allow you to twitch. “Mhmm… thank you for holding on to them for such a long time.”

“Time to do all the work for daddy”, he sighs. “Just let me pull your knees up by your ears and stick this dick deep…”

He does as he said, pinning your knees between the table and his strong hands to increase the pace inside you.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, you can take it”, he praises you and strokes your hair with his free hand tenderly despite his careless thrusts. “Do you like it when I’m so deep inside you?”

“Yes, yes, I like it…” moan. and another moan flew from your lips as you looked at him through your eyelashes. “Don’t stop…”

“I didn’t mean that, darling”, he grins at you, baring his teeth in a toothy grin. “Tell daddy he owns you, baby,” sigh “Tell daddy that you belong to him,” sigh “Tell daddy that your little holes are meant for him and him alone.”

“You own me, I belong to you, all my holes are meant for you and only for you”, you gasp and swallow hard as you try to think. “This is just for you.”

“I never get tired of hearing this”, he moves his hand lower and grabs your wrists, trapping them in “shackles” from his strong grip. “But your body is fucking happy to let me know that.”

His hips snap against yours as he claims you on the kitchen table. The room filled with the obscene sounds you both made in the haze of lust.

His head dropped down and he began kissing your neck, watching as your head fell back and your eyes closed as he thrust especially deep.

“Shh”, he sighs between kisses on your skin. “Don’t forget to breathe.”He licks your full skin, wrapping his lips around it and leaving a light hickey on your skin before pulling away again and watching his mark before looking back down at your connection. Your cheeks are red.

“Mhmh… clings to my cock every time I pull it out, covering everywhere with juices”, he notices with a grin, watching how your pussy absolutely doesn’t want to let him go from her grip. Just like you. “It’s fucking impossible to just get out of you. Atta girl.”

A small growl escaped his lips as you hugged him tighter due to his teasing. You panted beneath him, chest rising and falling. He knocks hoarse moans out of your throat.

“Please, don’t stop, Leon..!” you hiccup, your slick hips jerking in response, creating a pleasant friction between you both. “You won’t pull it out when you cum, right?”

“Please, don’t pull it out!”

“Hush, darling. Don’t worry, don’t cry. Daddy won’t pulling out.” he consoles between kisses. “You forgot that I have access to the calendar on your phone too…”

He leans closer, lowering his voice: “I know you’re ovulating.”

“Ahh?!” you sigh and get annoyed because he hid it and now he uses it as a tease. He pulls away with a laugh, hearing your gasps and grinning toothily.

“I’m going to impregnate that pussy, baby”, he promises, almost putting his hand on his heart. “I gonna fill you up so that in a few months you will be bare and pregnant in this kitchen… with proof of my love for you growing in this pretty little belly…”

His promise hangs in the air and you, knowing his tenacity to follow through, already know what he will actually do. But you don't mind. You've long dreamed of children, of that family from glossy magazines or movies..."

“Yes... get me pregnant Leon, please.... I need in this so-o-o ba-a-ad-d...”

you're pulling the letters and it's a fat hint that you're so desperate in your own words. You really need that pregnant belly. With the thought of pregnancy, your walls contracted around his cock as if by reflex and he sighed with sensitivity.

“I feel you tightening around me, darling,” he notices. “Is my dick rubbing against your precious place?”

“Mh-mhmm,” you nod to him in mute agreement. “Is that so, precious?” he raised an eyebrow though he knew it was true. He just wanted to hear your words, not your mooing. “Use your words.”

To accurately get his point across he clicks his hips against yours, reaching almost to the cervix. He didn't hurt you, but it made you shudder.

“Y-yes... you're rubbing against my place...!”

“Let me play with this soaked clit,” he offers you teasingly, releasing your hands from his grip to pay attention to your pearl. “Let’s see how long it takes you to …—”

“That's what you need to cum, isn't it?" It was the last straw for your patience: your back arched, your thighs clenched desperately as you trembled and squirted onto him. You finally got your discharge for that excruciatingly long evening of combined teasing and research. You really walked a thin tightrope, at the risk of getting lost in your own hands of pleasure with your husband (as it happened).

“Leon!” you moan his name with stars in your eyes and a dryness in your mouth. You need air and he slowed down so that his sweet wife wouldn't suffocate under him.

“Fuck..” he clenches his teeth. “You’re still fucking clinging me.”

He could feel your spasms inside, the way your walls desperately hugged his cock as you came on top of him.

"I can't help it, honey", you exhale and cool down under the symphony of his thrusts, you're getting aroused again.

“Milk all the cum out of me”, he orders softly. “Make me make you have a baby!” He needed you as much as if he were the last man in the desert and you were an oasis.

The thrusts became uncontrollable, a growl escaping his lips.

Leon enjoyed these just as much as you did; he needed to be buried inside you to death, he wanted to feel your squeezing walls around him forever. Those dirty thoughts drove him to orgasm.

One more push and he exploded inside you, making another push.... a push, and one more push. The force was exhausted, but the power of wanting to make your family with baby (or even two) more was stronger. He would be glad to see everyone.

“Nah-huh, don’t move”, he mumbles to you, noticing your movements. “I need to fill you with cum deep…”

In a couple minutes that seemed like moments to both of you, he was able to catch his breath enough and freeze inside you to make sure every drop got inside of you. He brought his face closer to you and finally let your knees off his hands only to hug your face with the palms of his hands

“I’m going out, precious”, he whispers in your ear, allowing you to relax a little. “But don’t move, I’ll carry you to the bed, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t move.”

With a wet pop, he pulled his soft cock out of your depths and semen began to spurt out of you right onto the kitchen tablecloth. You rest in his arms as he lifts you up with ease and holds your knees and back, holding you close to him. Your arms wrap around his neck. When he carried you to bed, you lay there while he started looking for some napkins to take care of you. “Will there be a second round?”

“No, the second round will be later”, he laughs. “I’m going to run you a bath and then make you take a nap.”

“You know, I love it when my wife looks well-rested and well take careful.”

“Will you join me?” you asked him, tilting your head to the side.

“My hunger for food can wait, you know?" he laughs deeply running a napkin over your genitals "Of course I'll join." You just laughed tiredly and kissed his cheekbones, hugging him and bringing his face closer so that your breath burned each other faces.

"What do you wanna choose: bubbles or a bath bomb?" He is thinking and needs your help in choosing. "I want..." you think before you answer him: "both."

"Both? My spoiled girl..."

thanks for reading!

#this shit should never have been released #leon vendetta is killing me #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #witerh #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #drabble #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon resident evil #resident evil: leon vendetta

195 notes · View notes

carmensandiegone · 2 days ago

Text

Alright, here’s your evaluation!

The intent of this comic, as was seemingly clear to almost everyone else who’s reblogged this, was “Fandom is largely dominated by white folks who have ingrained biases and tend to gravitate towards white characters who are either barely relevant to the story or have the almost same arc as the WOC main, and give them disproportionately more attention than literally any other non white character in the show.” The second panel depicts the white character as the only thing anyone in the fandom talks about with any depth or seriousness, the only post about the woman the show is about being sexualized and whitewashed, and one of the trending tags being #FuckWoman which indicated that she’s probably demonized within this fandom as well.

This is something I and multiple rebloggers have seen happen on multiple occasions. After a point, it starts forming a pattern and revealing biases.

2. a) I suggest you refrain from commenting on thing you don’t have the full perspective for. Yes, it is the internet and you are allowed to do whatever you want, but at the end of the day it might prevent you from seeming insensitive or plain foolish to others.

b) The post is not criticizing you individually for liking white characters more than non-white ones, it is criticizing a wider phenomenon.

c) I agree on this point, people love side characters. However, pretending that the white side characters aren’t more heavily favoured in a lot of fandoms over their non-white counterparts (and not just the main characters, non-white side characters as well) is remiss. Also fandoms like to pretend that white side characters have more internal depth and better writing than their non-white counterparts in canon , which is just silly.

3. Good for you.

4. I’m glad you understand why people get defensive about white characters being more popular than the characters of colour, but the truth is that it is that way because we are used to characters of colour being shunted aside/demonized/ignored/used as props for the white characters’ development over and over, and seeing this happen repeatedly can set off alarm bells in one’s mind. I’m truly glad that you haven’t experienced this yourself, but racism is racism, and ingrained biases shine through in even silly unserious spaces like fandom. Many people say that it’s supposed to be a safe fun place but dismissing people’s concerns and calling it policing when they’re pointing out fandom biases is… well, it doesn’t make it a safe space for us. I love making content for my faves too, but fandom hates quite a lot of them for things that their white faves have done as well and I think that I, as well as OP, have the right to call this out.

5. Just because you are neither white nor USAmerican, doesn’t make you incapable of having ingrained biases. I can pull that card too, I’m a brown third-worlder minority whatever, but I’ve also had to work through my own biases and understand that if I’m getting defensive over someone calling out a phenomenon that does very much happen due to racism, that’s MY problem, something I need to work on on my own.

I disagree that it’s not that deep. It is simply yet another manifestation of ingrained biases set in place by structural and societal issues. It is harmful, because not only is it hurtful to see people who look like you get repeatedly demonized, not valued unless in relation to a white person and ignored, it is indicative of something deeper that the majority of folks refuse to work on.

14K notes · View notes

wvyik · 2 days ago

Text

tease me. d.w. ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; after a day of teasing, dean finally gives in, showing you just how much he’s been craving you. passionate and intense, it’s everything you both needed.

warnings; mdni! smut, explicit content, sexual themes, rough sex, adult language, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, intense physical interaction, consent implied, dirty talk, mild degradation if you squint, possessiveness, passionate and heated moments.

notes; guess who’s getting more comfortable writing smut… anyways!! here’s your dose of dean winchester, no filters, no holding back. buckle up, baby, it’s gonna get wild.

words; 971

The second Dean’s lips met yours, it was no longer the teasing, slow burn you were used to. No, this was desperate, urgent— his hands tugging at your clothes as if he couldn’t wait another second. And honestly, you weren’t much better.

“You wanted this,” he growled against your mouth, pulling your shirt over your head in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him. He didn’t even pause to admire you, just yanked your shorts down, rough and impatient, before lifting you off the ground with a strength that made your head spin.

“Dean—”

“Shut up, sweetheart.” He kissed you again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, demanding control, and you gave it to him willingly, pressing your body against his as if you couldn’t get close enough. His hands gripped your hips hard, pinning you against the door of the Impala as he ground his hips into you.

“Been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his teeth biting down on your neck, making you moan. His hands slid between your legs, fingers slipping into the wet heat of your pussy without hesitation, making you gasp.

“So fucking wet for me already,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he slid a finger inside you. “Did you want this all day, huh? Touching me, teasing me? Now you’re gonna get what you asked for.”

You moaned as his finger worked inside you, his thumb brushing against your clit with every stroke. But it wasn’t enough. It never was with him.

“Please,” you begged, your hands scrambling to push his jeans down. “Dean, I need more.”

He smirked, the bastard, and pulled his fingers out, leaving you whimpering in frustration. “You’ve gotta earn it, baby,” he said, voice low and rough. He shoved you against the window again, his hand tight around your throat as he kissed you hard, his free hand finally unzipping his jeans. “I’m not gonna just give it to you. Not until you beg for it.”

You swallowed hard, your body aching, needing him like nothing else. The only words that left your lips were a soft, desperate, “Please, Dean, I need you.”

That was all it took. Dean wasted no time, pulling his jeans down just enough before aligning himself with your entrance, his green eyes locking with yours. “You asked for this,” he growled, and in one swift motion, he thrust into you. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders for balance as you adjusted to the stretch.

You barely had time to think before he slammed back into you, his cock pushing deep, filling you in one smooth motion. The stretch was dizzying, your body not quite ready for him, but Dean didn’t care. He set a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Dean groaned, his fingers digging into your skin as he lifted your hips, forcing you to take him even deeper. “I knew you’d feel this good, sweetheart. Been thinking about this all damn day.”

Your nails dug into his back as you gasped for air, your body jolting with each thrust. The pressure was already building in your core, every nerve on fire as he fucked you harder, faster. You could feel him everywhere— inside you, beside you, taking control in a way that made your head spin.

“Dean…” you whimpered, your voice barely a breath as he hit a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate for more. “I can’t… I—”

“Shut up,” Dean growled, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you closer as he pistoned in and out of you with animalistic force. He was relentless, pushing you to the edge with every deep thrust. “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. You’re gonna scream my name.”

The tension in your body was building, unbearable. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire, your muscles trembling as Dean fucked you harder, faster, his rhythm steady but unforgiving. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the car, mixing with the desperate moans spilling from your lips.

He pulled out briefly, just enough to flip you around and slam back into you from behind. You cried out at the sudden change, your face pressing into the seat of the Impala as Dean’s hand fisted your hair, pulling you back to meet him with each punishing thrust.

“You like that, huh?” Dean growled, his voice rough and unrelenting. “Like being fucked like a dirty little secret?”

“Yes, Dean,” you gasped, your hands gripping the car for support as he fucked you even harder, the sound of his hips against your ass drowning out everything else. “God, yes, please don’t stop...”

His hand slid between your legs, fingers expertly finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he pounded into you. The pressure in your belly was building, the need to release almost unbearable. “C’mon, baby, you’re close,” Dean grunted, his breath hot against your neck. “Cum for me. I want to feel you fall apart on me.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body shaking as you cried out Dean’s name, the release crashing through you in waves. Dean followed right behind, his grip tightening as he filled you, his hot breath on your skin as he groaned your name like a prayer.

You both collapsed against each other, breathless and trembling, the only sound the heavy rhythm of your breathing. Dean’s hand rested on your hip as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” he whispered, his voice still thick with lust. “You got it.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

#༊*·˚ wvyik #sofia writes ✎#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #jensen fucking ackles #dean x you #spn fanfic

209 notes · View notes

cheapshrimpysheep · 21 hours ago

Text

True Feelings Chocolate - Freshmen

SUMMARY: It is normal on Valentine's Day for friends or schoolmates to exchange chocolates with each other. However, the quality of the chocolate reveals how the person really sees you. And homemade chocolate is the greatest message of love that someone can receive on this day.

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola / Deuce Spade / Jack Howl / Epel Felmier / Sebek Zigvolt) x Yuu (Reader)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.000 words per character.

COMMENTS: The number of words varies depending on how much the character is the type to hide his true feelings.

I also would like to be able to write Epel's accent/dialect, but as English is not my first language this becomes a bit difficult sometimes. When I really want to write something like that I ask Gemini for help.

I hope you enjoy and had Happy Valentine's Day 💝

True Feelings Chocolate - OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia) x Yuu (Reader)

REAL WORLD CONTEXT: You may already know this, but Valentine's Day in Japan is different than in Western countries. In Asia (from what I know and have researched) this day is not exclusively related to romantic love but also to friendship or simple connections between schoolmates or work colleagues.

Just like in the West, it is marked by the gifting of chocolate, but the quality of the chocolate differs: If it's a boss or colleague you're not friends with, they're usually cheaper, more common chocolates. The quality and even price of the chocolate increases according to the relationship with the person to whom it is offered. And a chocolate made by the person themselves is the most valuable of all and is usually, from what I understand, almost like a confession of love.

On Valentine's Day, it is women who offer chocolates to men, but in this case, to keep Yuu gender-neutral and make it so that they can also offer chocolates to them, I just kept the chocolates’s logic and excluded the gender thing.

Another thing is that since it is normal to give chocolates to friends as well, it becomes more discreet to give more special chocolates to a certain person and it doesn't draw attention to simply give chocolate to someone.

NOTE: Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars.

Since cherry pie is Ace's favorite food, you decide to make chocolate covered cherries, and you bought a red heart shaped box from Sam's Mystery Shop to put them in.

Meanwile, on one of the nights before Valentine's Day, Ace was alone in Heartslabyul’s kitchen with as few lights on as possible (which includes his phone’s light) and trying to cook without making noise when someone calmly enters and scares him with their presence.

“I think you know how lucky you are that I'm the one who found you and not Riddle.” Trey says with a weird smile.

“T-T-T-Trey-senpai...” Ace smiles awkwardly, that smile he hopes will get him out of trouble. “P-please, I... I-I'm just trying to follow the Valentine's Day rules, y-you know.”

“Following the rules?” Trey raises an eyebrow, looks at the mess on the kitchen table, and then looks back at Ace with a smirk. “Oh, so you’re making the chocolates? I wonder who they are for.”

“Hey, I'm not that obvious!... Am I?” He worries.

“But why didn't you do this during the day? I mean, I know you're trying to keep Deuce and the other students from seeing you, but I’m sure they have schedules that don't always overlap with yours.”

“Yeah, but I also had the problem of buying the ingredients without being seen. And I almost failed a bunch of times.” Ace sighs.

Trey laughs. “Well, you don't have much time until Valentine's Day... Hmm... Would you like my help? Maybe this way you'll finish faster and we can both go to bed.”

Ace is immediately overjoyed and relieved, but then asks him not to tell anyone. Trey promises not to tell anyone if no one catches them in the kitchen at that hour. A big part of the reason he helps Ace is so he doesn't have to deal with that problem the next day.

On Valentine's Day, you were preparing the boxes of chocolate to deliver to the Heartslabyul boys when you heard someone knocking on your door. You open it and see Ace catching his breath and then straightening up to pretend he wasn't tired at all.

“Heeey! Good morning, (Y/N)!” Ace greets you with that cute smile. You ask if he's okay when you see him panting as he speaks. “Y-yeah. It was just a long ru- walk. So... I was passing by and took the opportunity to come and say hi...” He smirks “And take whatever you might have to give me today.”

“You came all this way so early just to try to be the first one to get the chocolates?" you ask.

“He he, another good way to brag to Deuce.” He smiles smugly before returning to that cute smile. “So where are my sweets~?”

You turn around to get the bag of chocolates and take his box to hand it to him. He seems happier not to see any brand on the box, but even so he messes with you.

“Hmm? What's this? Don't tell me you made my chocolates?” He becomes even happier when he sees your reaction. “Well, let's see how they came out!”

He opens the box and finds several small chocolate balls like regular bonbons. He comments that he is a little disappointed, he thought you could do something more interesting. He takes one to taste, bites into it and widens his eyes.

“They are... cherries? Chocolate covered cherries?”

You ask what he was saying about them not being interesting and he laughs as he happily admits he was wrong.

“But they still look kind of boring.” he jokes. “I...” he gets a little flustered “I have something for you too.”

He had the backpack he used for his books with him, he put your box inside and took out another one, another red heart shaped box. He felt a little embarrassed as he looked at the box, that color was was so much flashier than yours.

“Yeah, it is pretty cliché too, but hey, it's also my suit.”

He holds the box with one hand and takes the other to the tip of the heart where there was a protrusion that served as a handle. He pulls it, opening the box like a drawer. The box is empty except for a folded piece of paper. You pick it up, unfold it, and read the message: ‘Sorry, I already ate them all. Should have been quicker!’ and a drawing of a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. Ace laughs at your reaction.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding.” he defends himself when you playfully hit him on the arm. He closes that drawer and when he opens it again it is full of little chubby hearts made of your favorite chocolate. You reach out to pick one up but stop and look at him suspiciously. “Fine, fine. No more tricks with these chocolates, I promise.” he smiles.

You take out one of the chocolate hearts and bite into it to discover that it has your favorite filling. They were very good... too good. You sigh, feigning (or not) disappointment, and comment that for a moment you thought those were chocolates made by him.

“What?! What do you mean?! Of course I was the one who made them!”

You say they're too good for someone who you know doesn't like to cook or has a knack for it. They're more like sweets that... Trey would make.

“Ah... ugh... Okay, fine, I asked Trey-senpai for help. And... maybe kind of... tried to make him do most of the work... B-but that's because... um... *sigh* You said it yourself, I don't like cooking and I don't have a knack for it. I wanted to make sure your chocolates turned out as good as possible. And what's better than a sweet made by a professional like my Vice-Housewarden?” he smiles hoping that would save him from a scolding.

You may not scold him, but if he sees you upset or sad about it, he will feel really bad for having done that to you.

“Hey, I really tried to make them, I swear. The crooked ones are mine, haha. What happened was that Trey-senpai caught me making them in the kitchen at night and offered to help me. I really wanted to give you something that would show how much I love you, but...” He falls silent and blushes when he realizes what he just said. His instinct is to kinda change the subject. “Y-You know, I could have lost my head if it had been the Housewarden who caught me there and not him! I put my neck on the line for you. That should, at least, be a mitigating factor in this case.”

If you give him a kiss on the cheek to show that you forgive him, he will be stunned for a second, but then he will smile seductively, grab you by the waist and give you a real kiss.

Knowing that Deuce’s favorite food is anything with eggs, you look for recipes with eggs and chocolate. The first results are for chocolate eggs until you come across a recipe for Egg Yolk Chocolate Chip Cookies. Maybe you could even shape them into hearts, or better yet, into the shape of the suit of swords.

Meanwhile, Deuce isn't shy about asking Trey for help making your chocolates... okay, maybe a little bit, because it's basically telling him that he has a crush on you, although Trey kind of already knew. The only thing he asks is that they manage to make the chocolates without Ace knowing, so as not to make fun of him. Luckily for him, Cater is also willing to help that cute little freshman of his distracting Ace.

On Valentine's Day, you were putting the boxes of chocolates in a bag to give to the Heartslabyul boys, including the blue heart-shaped box you bought to put Deuce's cookies in, when someone knocks on your door.

“H-hey. G-good morning (Y/N).” Deuce greeted you with a hint of nervousness and shyness when you open the door. “I hope I'm not bothering you, hum, I mean, so soon.”

You reassure him that he never bothers you and that makes him blush a little.

“I'm glad... hum... Since today is Valentine's Day I... I wanted to... give you this.” He takes his hand from behind his back and offers you a quite cute heart-shaped box.

He feels more at ease when he sees that you liked the surprise and happier when you accepted it willingly. You open the box and see several hearts of your favorite chocolate. Many look good, but others are a little crooked. This makes you chuckle.

“Ha ha. Yeah, I know, I'm not very good at shaping them.” he says slightly embarrassed. “P-please try them, tell me what you think. I asked for Trey-senpai's help to make sure I did them the best I could.”

You pick one up and take a bite. It was pretty good, not as good as Trey could make them, but you could tell he had a hand in helping him. Besides that, they had clearly been made by Deuce.

“So, you like it?” He asks with a shy smile even though he can see the way you're smiling. You confirm and his smile widens. “I'm glad!”

You take the opportunity to turn around, pick up the blue heart-shaped box you had puted in the bag and offer it to him. Deuce widens his eyes in surprise.

“Oh? You...? It’s for me?”

Regardless of whether you cutely or sarcastically say yes, he will laugh embarrassedly and flattered, and blush a little if you call him ‘silly’. He picks up the box with a cute smile and is surprised again when he sees cookies shaped like the suit of spades and hearts instead of regular chocolates.

You tell him they are egg yolk chocolate chip cookies and that you made them because you wanted to do something that combines chocolate and his favorite food: eggs. He beams with happiness just hearing you say you made them, and even more so that you made them so thoughtfully.

“They look delicious, I'm sure they taste as good as they look.” he says excitedly to try one, and as soon as he does it you see one of the most sincere and adorable smiles you've ever seen on him.

“THEY'RE GREAT!” he shouts too excitedly and then gets a little embarrassed. “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to say it so loud. It's just... you made these for me. Hmm... is that because... are you following the rules of this day?” he blushes. “You know, about, if the chocolates are handmade it must mean that...”

He's too flustered to finish his sentences, so he'll need you to be the one to take the next step and kiss him on the cheek. If you do, he will look at you in amazement for a second, before smiling broadly, hugging you and giving you a kiss on the cheek as well, but extremely passionately.

You know that Jack’s favorite food is pear compote, so you look for something that combines this and chocolate. The closest thing you can find is chocolate pear cake. Maybe if you cut it into smaller cubes it will be more like classic chocolates than giving him a whole cake. You also bought a yellow box in Sam's Mystery Shop to put them in.

Meanwhile, Jack was making your chocolates in Savanaclaw’s kitchen and would growl menacingly at anyone who messed with him about it, or even tried to. With the sole exception of Ruggie who offered to eat the chocolates that turned out so badly that Jack wouldn't want to offer them to you.

On Valentine's Day, you were preparing the boxes of chocolates to deliver to the Savanaclaw boys, when you heard someone knocking on your door.

“Hey, (Y/N). Hum, good morning.” Jack greets you slightly tense, despite trying to hide it. “Happy Valentine's Day. I... uh...” His impassive expression began to fade as his ears lowered, giving way to a more shy one. “I came here because I wanted to give you this.” He takes his hand from behind his back and hands you a red heart-shaped box with a pink bow. “Sorry if it's too cliché, but, uh, I thought you would like it anyway.” he rubs the back of his neck.

He starts to wag his tail a little when he sees that you enjoyed receiving that gift from him. You open it and find hearts of your favorite chocolate. However, they all have slightly different sizes and shapes, maybe only one or two could have an almost perfect, cymetrical shape of a heart, now all the others... You couldn't contain a little laugh.

“I know, I know.” he says embarrassedly, running a hand over the back of his neck again. “I'm terrible at delicate work. And these chocolates are too small for my hands.”

You pick one up and take a bite out of it. You say it tastes really good and his tail wags a little more as he smiles proudly. You take the opportunity to take his yellow box out of the bag and hand it to him. His tail wags again when he sees the box.

“I shouldn't be surprised that you'd want to give me something today too, should I?” He chuckles. “Thanks.” He picks up the box with a big smile and opens it. “Hmm? They look like little slices of cake.”

You tell him that you wanted to make something with pear compote since it is his favorite, but the most you could find were recipes for chocolate pear cake. So you thought that if you cut them a little smaller it would be the closest thing to regular chocolates.

“You're saying...” His tail begins to lose its shyness and takes up more space when wagging. “That you were the one who made them? And you tried so hard to make something I would like?” His big smile returns. “They look great. Let's see how good a cook you are!”

He takes one of the small slices but doesn't bite into it, as they are small enough for him to put them whole in his mouth, completely confident that it will taste good. And by the smile, the crazy wagging tail and the erect ears, this seems to be the case.

“They taste great too!” He was clearly overjoyed with your ‘chocolates’, but then the tail slowed down, the ears lowered slightly and his shyness returned. “Hey, I... I just wanted to make sure...” He looked away from you and his free hands went back to rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s said that if the chocolates are handmade it must mean...”

He seems to be struggling to continue that sentence and, knowing the Tsundere that he is, you realize that you need to be the one to help him.

“That the person has feelings for the other?” you finish for him. “Or even a crush?”

He finally starts to blush for real, but when he sees your reassuring smile he realizes and is sure that the feeling is mutual. This makes him loosen up, letting his tail wag like it wanted to wag all along, and he... laughs heartily, like you've never seen before. But you were surprised once again when he practically attacked you with a hug.

You have to be careful not to drop the chocolates as he covers your face with kisses, just as he has to be careful not to drop his.

You knew macarons were one of Epel’s favorite foods. So chocolate macarons seemed like a good Valentine's Day chocolate option. However, they are difficult to make and require care and skill, which means you have put a lot of work into making them.

You were going to put them in a lavender box that you bought at Sam's Mystery Shop. But you didn't buy a normal, cute box. Sam ‘just happened’ to have a lavender box in stock with a lineart of two dragons forming a heart, but in a way that reminds you of a cool tattoo rather than a cute drawing.

Meanwhile, in Pomefiore's kitchen, Epel was making his chocolates feeling very tense. Because he wanted to make your chocolates as perfect as possible to prove himself worthy of praise and of you? It could have been, if he hadn't had something, or rather someones, who made him even more tense than that thought.

Epel could feel Rook's watchful gaze, even if he was watching Epel through the window from a tree branch. But that wasn't necessary because he made a deal with Epel: If he let Rook watch him cook without worrying about him interrupting or interfering, Rook would keep any and all other Pomefiore students out of the kitchen until Epel was finished. So he silently watched Epel from the corner... which wasn't exactly a comfortable feeling.

But another person from whom he couldn't hide what he wanted to do in the kitchen was the Housewarden of Pomefiore himself.

“If a Pomefiore student is going to give Valentine's Day chocolates to a crush...” Vil said and Epel tried to deny that last word without much conviction, which made Vil chuckle in amusement. “Fine, to someone they really like, then they will have to be the most beautiful sweets that said student is humanly capable of making. And that's why I'll be evaluating them once they're finished. You don't want to give (Y/N) anything less than your best, do you?”

He reluctantly agreed. This plus Rook's observation only put more pressure on him. However, this is the kind of pressure that motivates Epel even more, which ends up being a good thing.

On Valentine's Day, you're putting the boxes of chocolates in the bag to deliver to the Pomefiore boys, when you hear someone knocking on your door.

“Good morning, (Y/N)!” Epel greets you with that sweet, enthusiastic smile, but then he gets a little shy. “Happy Valentine's Day. I just, uh, came here because I wanted to give you this.”

He takes his hands from behind his back and hands you a beautiful heart-shaped box with a classic design. He is very happy that you liked his gift so much. You pick up the box and open it to find beautiful, plump hearts made from what looks like your favorite chocolate and beautiful, carefully crafted lineart. You comment that it must have been a lot of work to do.

“You have no idea...” he says through gritted teeth and with a smile that tries to hide his frustration. And you ask if he wants to talk about it. “I... How about you try them first?” he diverts the subject momentarily with an awkward smile.

You pick up one of the chocolates and bite into it to discover that it has your favorite filling. And indeed, they taste as good as they look. He turns his back to you and mutters, in an irritated triumph, a few phrases in his dialect. You only catch something about him being right and ‘he’ not knowing what ‘he’ was talking about. And something about diet, maybe. You ask if everything was okay and what he was saying. He turns back to you.

“I was talking about my Housewarden!” He says bluntly. “Vil was like: ‘are you going to make them such high-calorie chocolates?’” he imitates him in an affected voice that would certainly get him into trouble if Vil heard it. “And like ‘Don't you think you made many considering their poor nutrition?’. I was lucky that Rook defended me on many points, saying things like: 'This shows how sweet Monsieur Pommette’s love is’.” He made another eccentric voice to imitate Rook. “And cheesy things like that... And... I may or may not have talked back to Vil because of his criticisms.”

You ask what he did or said.

“At first the criticism was constructive, like whether the chocolates were pretty or not. But then he started criticizing the chocolates because of the calories. You know, stupid ideas because of his diets or something. It even got to the point where he almost told me to do something that I knew you wouldn't like and that's when I told him: ‘THESE CHOCOLATES ARE NOT FOR YOU! AND YOU CAN'T FORCE YOUR TASTES ON OTHERS!’”

He reenacted the way he said that to Vil and you can only imagine how he reacted when he saw Epel yelling at him with that furious face. Then he calmed down again and sighed.

“Right after that he wanted me to apologize. I apologized for the way I spoke, but not for what I said. And do you know what he said to me? ‘And that is exactly the apology you should make to me.’” He imitated Vil again to the point of making that gesture with his index finger next to his chin and put a smug face on. “ ‘What you said is more than correct, now the way you said it needs to be worked on.’ HE WAS PURPOSELY IRRITATING ME TO TEST ME! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?! And Rook even helped by praising the passionate way I expressed myself and yada, yada, yada.”

You can no longer contain your laughter when you imagine that scene. And Epel laughs with you. Oh, you almost forgot! You turn around and go to the bag to get Epel’s box to give to him.

“WOW! IT'S SO COOL!” Epel smiled excitedly when he sees the drawing of dragons on the box.

Then he looked at you and his smile became sweeter, having been reminded that you actually know the real him. He wasted no time in opening the box and he genuinely smiles so cutely when he sees the chocolate macarons. But then you see him pick up one of the macarons and analyze it. You ask if there's something wrong.

“Did you make them?” he asks with a really puzzled look, but soon his eyes widen and the big smile returns as you confirm. “So that's why they are a little crooked and with some cracks. Hahaha.”

You pout at him and notices his cheeks starting to turn pink.

“Hey, I'm not making fun of you." he says, still with a slightly mocking smile. "Macarons are hard to make. And honestly, you did such a good job that I almost thought they were bought." Then he smirked. “But they wouldn't sell macarons in this state.” He laughs at your annoyed reaction. “They look delicious, tho. Let's dig in!”

He tastes the macaron in his hand and once again his eyes widen, accompanied by a huge smile.

“Mmm, that's darn good!” he says in his accent. “But, tell me just one more thing.” he says with a smug smile. “Do you know what it means to give someone chocolates made by yourself today?” You confirm. “That's what I was hoping for!”

And in a surprising movement of grabbing you by the waist with his free hand, he pulls you and kisses your cheek with confidence.

Knowing that Sebek’s favorite food is Salmon carpaccio doesn't help you know exactly what you should do, but knowing that his least favorite food is Black coffee helps you conclude that dark chocolate is not a good option. But with that maybe you can think more about the shape of the chocolates... Does Sam have any dragon molds for sale?

Meanwhile, no Diasomnia’s student approaches the kitchen so that their eardrums wouldn't be ruptured by Sebek's voice. Just the energy of ‘Don't you dare bother me, humans!’ was enough for them to reach the door and immediately turn around. With only 3 exceptions. But luckily for him one of those exceptions wasn't even around at the time. Luckily because he was thinking about making chocolates for Malleus too.

Silver doesn't really get involved in other people's business. At most, he gives a little smile on the corner of his mouth, thinking it's amusing, and leaves him alone.

Lilia, on the other hand, really, really, REALLY wanted to mess with him a little. He couldn't contain his desire to stay in the kitchen and watch him cook, which on the one hand put more pressure on Sebek, but also made him more determined to make everything perfect. Lilia even offered to help him.

“I-It is very generous of you to offer me your precious aid, Lilia-sama.” he said, and he always feels guilty and dishonored for avoiding Lilia's cooking. “But, as honorable as it would be, I will have to decline the offer. For I intend to strive to make the chocolates with the greatest perfection through my solo effort and improving skills.”

He may have saved himself from Lilia 'helping' him make your chocolates, but he couldn't save himself from Lilia's comments insinuating that he (as the youngsters say) ships the two of you. Part of Lilia also wanted to trick him a little bit to make him court you in a weird and funny way, but he held himself back. He wasn't one to abuse Sebek's trust to the point of actually ruining things between you.

On Valentine's Day, you were putting the boxes of chocolates in the bag to deliver to the Diasomnia boys when you heard someone knocking on your door.

“HUMAN!” Sebek shouts with a slight blush of embarrassment on his face and as if he were doing it almost out of obligation. “I'm here to fulfill the chocolate delivery ritual.” He hands you the black heart-shaped box with green lineart that he didn't even bother to hide behind his back. “P-please accept my offering.” he stuttered for an almost imperceptible second.

You pick up the box with a little smile, finding it all funny. You open the box and find hearts made with your favorite chocolate. You pick one up and bite into it, discovering that it also has your favorite filling inside.

“Well, I may conclude that you are perfectly satisfied with my cooking.” He says with a smug smile that tries to hide the real delight he feels at seeing you smile like that. But then he became serious again. “With this, my visit to you comes to its conclusion. Have a good day.”

He immediately turns to start walking to the gate, but you stop him. He turns around alarmed by the way you asked him to wait.

“WHAT IS IT?! Is there something missing?! I knew I should have gotten flowers too!”

And so his composed mask falls, at least for that moment. He really seems worried that he did something wrong and is sorry for whatever mistake he made. However, you can't help but laugh at that drastic change in behavior.

“WHA- NOW YOU ARE MOCKING ME?!” He makes that angry face that is so common of him that it doesn't even worry you anymore. “For what motive did you ask me to detain myself?!”

You turn to grab his box from the bag and hand it to him. It's a green heart-shaped box with a black bow. He almost jumps in surprise.

“You...” he says in a lower voice (which to anyone would be just a regular volume) “You got me chocolates too?”

He picks up your box with a delicacy you've never seen before and a little glint of wonder in his eyes. He opens the box to find chocolates, some milk, others white, shaped like little dragon heads. And with that he made that emotional face that he practically only directed at Malleus or Lilia.

“HOW MAJESTIC! Such a sublime creature recreated in its glory! You... human... are so... CRUEL!”

You ask why he is saying that, worried and above all confused.

“How do you expect me to ruin a work of art such as this? And worst of all through INGESTION?! I CAN NOT! This must be preserved!”

You try to convince him to eat them because if he doesn't they'll spoil. And you even say that you didn't know he would see things that way, you just thought he would like those molds because of, well, Malleus. And you comment that maybe you should have chosen something else because you really want him to taste what you did for him.

“They... they were made by you?” His face contorts into even more emotional pain and indecision.

You say you have the molds and can make more if he wants. This makes his eyes widen, almost filling with tears, and shine with joy and relief.

“THAT WOULD BE SIMPLY WONDERFUL! ... GH!... hu-hum. I mean, I would be very grateful if you did.” he smiles with a slight blush. “Now,” he smirks. “I should uncover the result of your labor.”

He takes one of the chocolates and bites into it. And you can see from his emotional expression that he's trying hard not to start showering you with praise like he does with Malleus.

“I must confess, for a human devoid of any magic or enviable abilities, your cooking is more than satisfactory.”

You look at him with that face of someone asking if that really is the best thing he can say to you. He sighs and blushes a little again.

“Very well. You desire to hear my most genuine opinion, correct?” he smiles, in a rather sweet way. “I truly enjoyed it. I didn't want to inflate your ego, but since you insist, they are some of the best homemade chocolates I've ever had. It is an honor to be worthy of tasting something like this and with the exclusivity of having it made especially for me. Thank you very much, (Y/N).”

You're surprised for a moment that he said your name and not ‘human’. And in the meantime, his posture changes, at first he seems uncertain about something but then he becomes surprisingly confident to the point of smiling smugly at you.

“Well, I assume you are well aware of the rules of chocolate giving on Valentine's Day. And what implies delivering chocolates made by the offeror to the offeree.”

Seeing your expression of confirmation, he takes your hand, leans in and kisses the back of it. When he looks at you again, in the eyes, you see a shine and affection that you never thought you would see in him.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Ace Trappola #Ace Trappola x Reader #Deuce Spade #Deuce Spade x Reader #Jack Howl #Jack Howl x Reader #Epel Felmier #Epel Felmier x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader

301 notes · View notes

urrmomzfavorite · 1 day ago

Text

PAC: HOW POSSESSIVE/JEALOUS IS YOUR PERSON?

PILE ONE

This person is really sure of themselves, attractive, and knows how to contain themselves. But when it comes to you? Baby, this is another person. I'm hearing about a situation happening on your honeymoon? They do not play.I see them being really protective of you. They feel like you trust strangers too easily and offer a helping hand without thinking. This sense of community is honorable, but it tends to burn *you*, Pile One, and your person notices this. They want you to put a lot of your responsibilities on them—take the weight off your shoulders. (They have nice shoulders, btw.)

They have a good nose for smelling bullshit. This person could work in finance or have well-placed investments? Bro, I don’t know anything about this type of stuff. Guys, also, this is your FS. You could be different ethnicities, countries, cultures. You’ll spend your honeymoon in their country; they have a home there. They get mad when someone tries to sell you something overpriced 😂 They like to stand by your side. Not gonna lie, you’re arm candy—you have this glow that draws people in. They feel proud standing next to you. They *love* when people say you’re a beautiful couple. They’re tall; I’ve been getting huge vibes of a tall man obsessed with hiking in my readings lately. They love staying active—and hey, it never hurts to have good stamina 👀

They’re thirsty for you. This person wants to show you how strong they are. Some of you wonder about them lifting and pinning you against the wall. It’s more than possible 😏

So Pile One: They aren’t jealous or possessive, but you’re really important to them. They don’t want your kindness taken advantage of.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

PILE TWO

**YESSSS**. Just thinking about it makes them sick. This is the type of person who gets low-key mad when you talk about your kindergarten crush. They’re competitive—they need to be the *only* one in your eyes. And they’ll make sure they are, crushing the competition to pieces.

Pile Two, you’re a rare commodity, and they know it. This person is obsessed with you. I know you like it, but listen: You’ll get annoyed by this energy eventually. They’re controlling. Might tell you not to wear certain outfits. This person gets insecure…

The way they see it? They wouldn’t hesitate a second to steal you if you were someone else’s. That’s why they’re paranoid—they know for some people, “I have a bf/gf” means *nyet*. So they need to make sure you’re all theirs. They’d rather spend time alone with you just to guarantee your full attention. You make them feel so mellow.

Pile Two, I’m gonna be honest: Obsession can be flattering, but there’s a healthy limit. When insecurity infringes on your freedom, speak up. They can either step up and change their behavior, or someone else will happily do it.

If this gets too much, talk to them. They love you enough to work on this—it’s a win-win. A relationship needs both people to feel secure. But yes, they’re obsessive, jealous, and controlling. Still, they don’t have ill intentions. The only alarming thing is how far they’ll go to keep your heart theirs.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

PILE THREE

This person wants me to preface by saying they’re logical and understand the stakes… *but* (there’s always a *but*):

IT’S FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL WHEN THEY’RE RIGHT THERE!

They’ll mean-mug, tell them to fuck off, scare off, or fight anyone disrespecting you, them, or your relationship. They’ll start *all* the wars for you, Pile Three. They aren’t scared of a challenge.

If they can handle you, they can handle anything 😅

This person does boxing or martial arts—they can actually fight. They’ve got Aries energy; they’ll keep you up all night.

OMG, after losing their shit at whoever talked to you that day, it’s *your* turn, Pile Three. Your turn to be reminded who you belong to (and where—which is on their… *yup!*). They can’t wait for an intimate moment to hear you moan their name, tell them you’re theirs, and get wet/hard under their touch. Then, and only then, the rage they couldn’t release by punching the latest guy fades. When they’re on top of you, and you’re begging to feel them inside, there’s one thing they need first: **hearing that you’re theirs**.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

#tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #astrology #spiritual journey #18+ tarot #divination #masterlist #daily tarot #tarot readings #tarot reader #tarot witch #tarot wisdom

230 notes · View notes

loves1ckmoth · 3 days ago

Text

TENDER LOVE AND CARE

Caitlyn x Worried wife!Reader

Warnings ♡: fem!reader, reader has a breakdown, Caitlyn gets hurt in the beginning, reader can't communicate, reader avoids caitlyn for a bit, reader gets hurt from sewing while crying, they talk it out, angst, petnames (good girl, darling, the like), Caitlyn gives kisses

Word Count ♡: 915

You always scolded Caitlyn after work for her recklessness, always getting caught in the crossfire of fights simply because “she was curious.” You knew she cared about her people, but you hated the stress of her coming home hurt simply because she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. And today, that fear has become a reality.

When you got wind of a patrol accident that injured Caitlyn and her group, you were petrified. You had convinced yourself something terrible had happened. That she got injured and would never work again. The thought made it hard to function at all, so you quickly made your way over to the hospital where she was being treated.

But all that fear faded the moment you saw her. She was only scuffed up with a cut covering the expanse of her arm. It was disgustingly deep, you heard the doctor mention the layers of skin and what needed treatment but it all slipped in one ear and out the other. Some gross morbid thought made you think it looked a lot like a honeycomb.

You almost vomited at the thought. She smiles over at you as a nurse begins to wrap her wound. You want to slap her. “How did it happen?” You ask softly, your voice almost failing you from the leftover fear of losing her. She frowned at the sound of your voice and spoke quietly in return. “I had to break up a fight between two people down by the bridge. Two people from Piltover. One of them broke loose and started attacking everyone with a shard of glass.

Nausea takes over you, but you nod in response, turning away so she won’t see. You can see her frown out of the corner of your eye, so you try to put on a brave face for her. She can tell, you know she can, but neither of you says it aloud. You turn to the doctor. “She’ll be free to come home today, right?”

When the doctor nods, relief hits you like a tidal wave and the nausea makes it’s round again. You excuse yourself outside and vomit in the trashcan right outside the door. Your nerves, especially when it came to Caitlyn, were never good.

Being home is somehow more tense than the hospital. Neither of you talk about it. You throw yourself into housework immediately to avoid it. How are you meant to talk about it when you know it won’t change anything? She tries her hardest to talk to you, to ask about your day, but your short answers lead to her building frustration. When you find her ripped-up uniform from the day of the attack you finally break down.

Through tears and sharp gasps, you attempt to stitch up the rips in it, but you keep pricking your fingers. By the time she finds you, your eyes are puffy and red, your fingers looking almost the same. She rushes over to your side, gently pulling the needle and thread out of your hands. She shushes you as you blubber out an apology and gently takes your face in her hands.

“Oh, my dear… What’s happening? What’s going on?” You shake your head. You try to deny it, but as her thumbs rub the side of your face, you give in. “I’m sorry… I wanted to fix it… I wanted to make it better.” At the sound of desperation and attempts to please her, she starts to cry as well.

“This is because of the attack, isn’t it? You not talking much to me, you not being around the house as much, all this housework.” When you nod your head she kisses the side of your mouth. “Your hands too… Darling?”

“I’m sorry. It kept slipping and I kept crying and now it hurts.” As another sob escapes you, she shushes you again and nods. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She mutters, guiding you to your feet and over to the bathroom. She runs your bloody fingers under the sink and then puts soothing cream over the tips of them.

“Do you wanna talk now?” She pushes gently, looking up at you from where she sits on the floor. You breathe deep, still sniffling from your crying. “I’m scared…” And her heart breaks. She rubs your hand tenderly. “Because of my work?” When you nod, it only solidifies the fracturing in her heart. “You always get into these fights and I’m scared you won’t come home.”

She rises to her feet and holds you gently, stroking your hair. “It’s my job to diffuse these things, but I can admit, I get more involved than I should. I promise I’ll reel back. Would that make you happier?” You nod into her chest, clinging to her shirt.

“How about you take a break for the rest of the week? I’ll make it up to you. You won’t have to cook a single meal or do any housework. You’ve been working yourself to the bone and you look so tired these days. I’ll get started on dinner soon and we’ll eat together.”

You sigh deeply, humming in agreement as she lowers to peck your lips. “Good girl. Go take a nap. I’ll take care of everything.” She brought you to your feet once more and took you upstairs. Once you were lying down, she kissed you again and closed the door. For the first time in a long time, you finally felt at peace.

Thank you all for being so patient yesterday ♡ I was incredibly tired after a long day, but I promise another post again tonight ♡ Reblogs and likes are most appreciated ♡

#loves1ckmoth writes ♡#dividers by dollywons #caitlyn x female reader #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kirraman x reader #arcane fic #arcane #arcane s1 #arcane season one #angst #caitlyn angst

178 notes · View notes

meinii · 1 day ago

Note

hellloo!!! can i request a girl/boy/twindad!Caldb? i love your work btwww!! ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

“twin dad Caleb”

hi anon! tysm for your requestꈍᴗꈍ I hope you like this!

content: fluff, two babies!

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

Caleb had been through countless high-stakes situations in his life—piloting through storms, outrunning enemy fire, and navigating through deep-space turbulence. but nothing, nothing, compared to the chaos of having twin babies

"alright, alright—one at a time!" Caleb pleaded as he held a bottle in one hand and tried to balance his son, who was currently clinging to his shoulder like a tiny, stubborn koala. his daughter, meanwhile, was lying in your arms, sleepily gripping onto your fingers

you laughed, watching him struggle "you were so confident about handling two at once earlier"

Caleb shot you a look over his son’s head "listen, I’ve flown through storms, and I still think this is harder"

your son babbled something incoherent, tiny hands patting Caleb’s cheek

Caleb sighed dramatically "at least my co-pilot here agrees"

your daughter let out a soft giggle, curling up against you

Caleb glanced at the little girl in your arms, his eyes softening

"she’s definitely your kid," he muttered "look at her. so calm, just like you"

you smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead

"and he’s all yours" you teased, nodding toward your son, who had now latched onto Caleb’s jacket zipper with an iron grip

Caleb chuckled, shifting his son into a more comfortable position "yeah, well, can you blame him? I’m pretty great"

your son squealed in agreement, making Caleb grin

Caleb had been waiting months for this moment

the tiny pilot uniforms had arrived in the mail weeks ago, but today, he finally had the chance to put them on the twins. you watched, amused, as he carefully dressed them—handling them as if they were made of glass

"okay, little guy, arms up" he instructed, slipping his son’s tiny arms into the miniature flight jacket, just like Caleb’s real one.

his son let out a delighted squeal, kicking his legs excitedly

meanwhile, you were helping your daughter into her own uniform—hers a tiny replica of Caleb’s official pilot attire, complete with a name patch that read “CAPTAIN [HER NAME]”

when both twins were finally dressed, Caleb stepped back, taking in the sight with the proudest grin imaginable

"look at them!" he said, hands on his hips "future pilots for sure"

you raised an eyebrow "they can’t even walk yet"

Caleb scoffed "details, details. walking is just pre-flight training"

your son babbled in response, clapping his hands

"see? he gets it"

you chuckled, shaking your head as Caleb lifted both babies up into his arms, making them “fly" around the room while they giggled

building legos with babies was a mistake.

or at least, that’s what Caleb realized after the twins immediately tried to eat the pieces.

"hey, hey, nope—not for chewing" Caleb said, gently prying a lego block from his son's mouth.

you sat beside your daughter, who was far more interested in watching than participating, her big eyes blinking up at you as you held a piece in front of her "here, sweetheart, try putting this one on top."

she grabbed the block with her chubby little fingers and smacked it against the tower Caleb was building. it immediately fell apart

Caleb groaned dramatically, clutching his chest "betrayal!"

your daughter giggled at his reaction, reaching for another block—only to throw it at her brother instead

"oh, we’re starting fights now?" Caleb teased, setting down his son to sit between you both. "okay, okay—new plan. mommy and daddy build, and you two supervise"

your son clapped his hands

your daughter grabbed a block and tried to chew on it again

"close enough" you said with a laugh

Caleb sighed, kissing the top of her head "one day, kiddo, I’m gonna teach you how to build the best damn spaceship out of legos"

your daughter responded by drooling on his sleeve.

Caleb winced "great. Thanks for that, sweetheart"

you laughed "consider it a pilot’s initiation."

Caleb loved bedtime.

it was one of the rare times the twins were calm, and he cherished every moment of it

tonight, he was sitting on the rocking chair in the nursery, both babies bundled up in their matching star-patterned onesies. your son was in his arms, already dozing off, while your daughter was nestled against your chest, blinking sleepily

"alright, little co-pilots," Caleb murmured, adjusting the book in his lap "tonight’s story is about the bravest little pilots in the galaxy"

you smiled, settling beside him on the chair "that sounds familiar."

Caleb smirked "it should. I wrote it."

your daughter let out a tiny yawn, curling up against you

Caleb began reading in a soft, steady voice, his hand gently rubbing your son’s back as he spoke

"once upon a time, in a sky filled with endless stars, there were two little pilots—strong, smart, and brave…"

as he continued, you felt your daughter’s breathing slow, her tiny fingers still curled around your sleeve. Your son shifted slightly in Caleb’s arms, then let out a deep sigh, completely relaxed

by the time Caleb finished the story, both twins were fast asleep

he let out a quiet breath, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s forehead before glancing at you. his expression was filled with so much warmth it made your heart ache

"can you believe we made them?" he whispered

you smiled, brushing a gentle hand over your daughter’s soft hair."yeah. pretty amazing, huh?"

Caleb’s gaze softened even more as he leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips

"yeah," he murmured "the best thing I’ve ever done"

229 notes · View notes

starredblood · 3 days ago

Text

FADE INTO YOU

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you live in a small secluded town in jeju where nothing ever happens until a girl with a face made of stone moved in. however, her disillusion about life makes your strange relationship with her complicated—further conflicting each others lives.

wc. 6.2k

warnings: situationship to ???, angst, little bit of fluff and comfort, use of alcohol and cigarettes, brief mentions of sexual intimacy, reader is very melancholic

(masterlist)

Living in a place that people dream of visiting is gloomier than you imagined it would be. Beautiful green scenery, pale blue skies, and waves crashing—it was paradise. The people, they were quieter and much more at peace with life than in the bustling cities back in the mainland. Unlike the corporate driven lifestyle you were surrounded with back in Seoul, it felt like time permanently stopped here in Jeju. You didn’t have to rush anything, especially living in a small tucked away town right beside the seashore.

The problem back in Seoul was that you were dissatisfied with your direction in life. But that ache in your chest still seeped into your new life here in Jeju. So, you think it’s not a location problem—it’s a you problem. There’s something wrong with you.

And you need something to get you going. Like now.

It might’ve been late afternoon by the time you heard several hard knocks coming from your bedroom. You let out irritated groans by the nonstop banging, still not intending to be awake at this hour in the day. To prevent the noise blaring through your eardrums you grab your unused pillow and press it to your face so your head could be sandwiched in between pillows.

But you heard a stern, equally as irritated muffle on the other end. “Hey? Are you awake?” you hear your older sister whine.

Her knocking was relentless and you knew she wasn’t going to stop until you reveal yourself from hibernating in your dark and depressed bedroom. “Coming.” you croak out.

You rub your eyes and lazily place your feet on the ground. It took all of your strength to get off your bed and walk over to your door. Stumbling in the process, you finally reach for the doorknob.

Your sister stood there with her arms crossed and forming a look of disgust at your current state. “Count Orlok, you live in a place with the most beautiful views maybe try opening your curtains.”

She comes inside your room and yanks open the dark curtains. Your eyes squint trying to adjust your irises to the blaring summer sunlight. The light gray sand behind your room made your room shine brighter thanks to the reflection of the sun bouncing off of the sand.

“What do you want? I don’t work today.” you ask her, watching peevishly as she picks up your dirty laundry off the ground—a habit of hers.

“Mom and dad are coming later tonight.” she explains and starts rummaging through your closet.

“You could’ve just sent me this over text instead of barging in here.” you retort, watching as she picked out clothes for you to wear. This is what your sister does, she loves control. And you just let her because you don’t want to move back to your parents.

“I came here because if I sent a text I knew you’d ignore it. You have to get ready now.” she says strictly. She sighs in disappointment when you let out another tired whine and flop on top of your bed. “Seriously are you depressed or something?”

“What? No—would you quit asking that?” you stammer and reach to hug your pillow, nuzzling into it and flutter your eyes closed. “I’m just…bored.”

“Bored?” she scoffs mockingly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to keep living with mom and dad. If you want to go back to by all means go. But if you’re staying then get ready.”

She tosses the clothes she wants you to wear straight to your face. When she storms out your room you began to incant quiet curses at her.

You used to have a great relationship with your family because you did everything they wanted you to do to the tea. It got ruined the moment you decided to navigate your own decisions about how you want to live life. Although you know dropping out of college and living with your sister isn’t the most ideal pathway, it was better than what you dealt with back home. But your parents don’t get it. They didn’t see the constant cries for help, instead they saw the dropping grades.

It didn’t help that your sister replaced you as their new golden child. She is a small business owner in Jeju and owns a house with her fiancée. And you’re staying in the room that is technically meant for their future baby—in the works.

“So, how’s your sister behaving?” your dad asks your sister about you. The only thing you could do was silently roll your eyes and keep eating.

Tonight the dining table was packed—even your sister’s fiancée was here who is known to be a workaholic. And of course, your parents couldn’t help themselves by trying to embarrass you the moment dinner was served.

“All she does is stay in her room.” she replies shaking her head while cutting her steak. “Whenever we want to have a meal all together she just prefers eating in her room.”

“Now, sweetie,” you mom sighs giving you a disapproving look. “why don’t you want to eat with them? It’s the least you could do after taking up one of their rooms.”

“And it’s their future baby’s room.” your dad adds with a mocking laugh.

“It’s fine, sir,” your sister’s fiancée claims calmly. “we aren’t in a rush to kick anyone out.”

You don’t wish to acknowledge them and continue to play with your food. There was a time where they used to praise you for your intelligence and grit. But ever since you gave up, you’ve become numb to their backhanded comments and criticism.

Yet deep down you know they’re right. When your sister finally has her baby you can’t live with them anymore so you need to start thinking about your future now or it’ll be too late. But it’s already late.

“You’re too kind, boy.” your mom says to the fiancée, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Maybe what she needs is a good man like you. Do you have any single, good men in your family that will be interested in my lazy daughter?”

“Mom.” you say to her warningly, throwing her a stern expression. You hear the fiancée chortle.

“What?” she asks innocently. “If you aren’t going to college then your future as an independent woman is over. You’ll need to find a man with a well established job if you want to live a good life. We’re all just looking out for you, honey.”

Exhaling a long dramatic sigh, you push your seat back and get up. You couldn’t stand it anymore—their never ending berating. When you walk away you hear all of them call out your name and telling you to come back down to eat. But you aren’t hungry, you’re tired. Tired of filling the space.

When you go up to your room you change out of the clothing your sister picked out for you and opt in for a lightweight sweater and sweats. You sneak back down the stairs and exit the house without being heard from your family, who you can hear still talking at the dining table.

The walk from the house to seashore was brief. It was nothing but you, your thoughts and the sound of waves crashing tonight because you don’t intend to go back until late in the night. And your family won’t get worried, they know that this is your way of throwing a tantrum.

Once you sat down on the soft part of the sand, you press your knees up to your chest then rest your chin on top of your kneecaps and stare at the salty water. This was your new favorite pastime. You used to have such a short attention span until coming here to Jeju. Everything about Jeju was slow and peaceful which is just what your tired body needs after putting yourself through twenty years of academic stress.

Unaware of how long you’ve been sitting in the sand and staring at the ocean, a silhouette emerges from the shadows. There is only one other person who would deliberately keep to themselves and use the beach as a form of refuge.

In routinely fashion, Sae-byeok approaches your lonely figure and sits down next to you without uttering a single word. Her long limbs stretch out in the sand and she also maintains her eyes on the ocean.

Your relationship with Kang Sae-byeok (if you couldn’t even call it that) was blurry. In the few months you’ve known her, it was easy to be around her. You never felt pressured to talk or to fake niceties with her. However, Sae-byeok’s guardedness and intimidation was ultimately the reason the two of you never got close. It’s hard to even consider the stoic girl a friend. And you think she’s fine with that.

Ever since she’s moved in this small town in Jeju, you felt a tad bit less lonely sharing the comfort of knowing there’s another girl your age living close by. But you still have so many questions to ask her. What do you do for a living to afford to live in one of the nicest house alone? Where are your parents? Are they wealthy? You don’t have a single clue about her and she wants to keep it that way.

And all Sae-byeok knows about you is that you don’t have a single clue about anything anymore—you just exist to fill the space. Or at least, that’s the way you explained your life to her.

The salty aroma, the sound of the waves sloshing and the cool breeze was enough to lull you to sleep. While slowly shutting your eyes, you almost forgot Sae-byeok’s silent presence was still there. Sleep was overtaking your body.

“What’re you doing here?” you hear her low hoarse ask you. You’re in a place where she speaks in full sentences now.

“Hiding.” you reply softly and open your eyes to look at her beautiful face. It was entrancing how the moonlight reflected onto her best features.

Her eyes start moving to stare down at her feet and she nods. “From?” she adds quietly.

“My parents. They’re here to visit my sister and her fiancée for the weekend.” you sigh.

When she glances up to face you, there is no longer the hesitation to avoid peering into your eyes like she did months ago. You know your strange bond with Sae-byeok is a little bizarre but you find her guarded presence a little comforting too.

“They aren’t here to see you?” she questions, her tone flat as usual but you paid attention to the way her eyebrows quirked for a second.

You hum in thought before shrugging. “I don’t know. They haven’t been happy with me recently.”

Maybe that little flicker in her eyes was pity because it made your heart clench. She must think about you like they do.

After you go back to observe the darkly illuminated ocean, you felt a warm hand softly grab the back of your head. You didn’t have time to react before feeling a soft pair of lips gently press yours.

This wasn’t going to be one of those typical nights of silence, that you’re sure of. Tonight is a rare moment in time where Sae-byeok is yearning for the affection of another and you’re always the one chosen to fill that void in her heart. But like everything Sae-byeok does, it’s a fleeting moment of affection that vanishes when morning comes.

And tonight, you weren’t having her push and pull antics after that disaster dinner with your family. You don’t initially react to the kiss and stiffly remain in the same position. The feeling lingered for a brief second before Sae-byeok pulled away. Her usual sharp gaze went completely soft as she slowly drew back after staring at your face centimeters close.

“Did I…?” she trails off unsurely.

You hesitate. “I feel like I don’t know you—“

“I told you that it’s better for us if you don’t know anything.” she sighs, sounding insecure and starts drawing shapes in the sand. “It’s easier this way.”

“…For you maybe.” you murmur quiet enough for her not to hear. You don’t need any more uncertainties in your life.

This was something new you both did—share stolen kisses. And if you’re both feeling extra lonely, then it would lead to something much deeper and vulnerable but that only occurred twice. Although it feels nice to be with her in the moment, you didn’t want her just for a brief period.

Without saying anything else, you feel her body shifting and the sound of shoes crunching on sand. You didn’t glance back at her when she started walking away. This was something she did when you tried getting close to her—she runs away.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

The salty air stung your face as you rode your bike to the boutique. At first, the smell was burning your nostrils but like everything in life, the feeling subsides. By the time you make it to the shop, your skin is hot by the sun glaring underneath you and your legs sore from pedaling fast. You were a few minutes late.

Once you’re in front of the boutique, you stop pedaling and hop off your bike. You didn’t see your sister this morning but you’re crossing your fingers she’s running errands instead of working. She already gave you a warning a few days ago about your tardiness and you don’t want to face her wrath again.

When you roll your bike to the back of the store you heard two familiar voices that shouldn’t coincide in the same vicinity. You hold your breath when you turn the corner and duck your head low.

You don’t know why Sae-byeok was here. She was leaning against the wall next to your coworker Ji-yeong, sharing a cigarette and giggling amongst each other like drunken friends. But when they spotted you coming around the corner, they mellowed out. You pretend not to see them, turn up the music in your headphones and quickly rest your bike against the wall.

A strange feeling in your stomach brews seeing them together like that. You were never seen with Sae-byeok in broad daylight—all of your interactions were hidden underneath the moonlight. It was a conflict feeling but then again, you don’t know a thing about her. So, you should stop setting yourself up to get hurt for no good reason.

Throughout your shift, you try to interact with international tourists as best as you can while suggesting an item of clothing. It was hard to force a customer service smile when you could see the two girls from the corner of your eyes, chatting by the counter.

You force your mind to think you’re upset that Ji-yeong is making you do all the customer service work while she does nothing. But deep down, you might be jealous. You thought you had something special with Sae-byeok…she doesn’t even smile that widely with you.

After finishing helping the customers as best as you can with the language barrier, you hide in the corner of the store arranging a rack that didn’t need to be fixed. But you couldn’t go anywhere else in this small shop without looking at Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok, so this was the only spot where you couldn’t see them.

“What’re you doing here?” a voice asks demandingly. You jump and snap your eyes to look at your sister, whose arms were crossed. “Well?”

“Cleaning.” you reply with a straight face. Of course she isn’t buying it. “What do you want me to do? It’s practically empty here right now besides those two tourist still in the store.”

She rolls her eyes and fixates her eyes on something ahead. “Hey, isn’t that your friend? The weird quiet one with, Ji?”

“Shut up.” you hiss.

She blinks like she was studying your anxious demeanor until she heard the sound of the door ring. “Look, go help them—they look rich.”

After another thirty minutes, Sae-byeok finally left the shop without uttering a word to you. To be fair, you were just helping customers but she didn’t look at you either. You try to swallow back the pain of rejection.

“I’m going on break.” you mutter to Ji-yeong who was ringing a customer at the counter. She curtly nods, barely any acknowledgment to your being as well.

Outside the boutique your sister bought an expensive bench painted white to match the rest of the shops exterior. You like to sit outside it for your break and observe the passerby’s. This town is much busier than your small, boring one. It’s filled with tourists, bikers, photographers and clumsy kids.

Five minutes into your break you feel someone sit beside you.

“You’re ignoring me now?” Sae-byeok mutters, shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

You barely look at her before shaking your head. “What did you want me to do? Jump in joy?”

She snorts and starts observing the crowd walking up and down the sidewalk too. “Ji-yeong invited me to this party—you should come.”

You fight back the urge to ask her about Ji-yeong and their history together. “I’m alright.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment to think. “Just come.” she says much quieter. You give her a skeptical look. She sighs at it. “It’s just in case I’m lonely there. I already said I’d go.”

“So, I’m just going to be there to fill the space?” you question, your voice shaking slightly by hurt. “No thanks.” you whisper.

“I didn’t mean it like that—I’m sorry.” she deadpans so you don’t believe she is.

You shake your head one last time and throw on your headphones. Since you only have a few minutes left to your break and you don’t want her to ruin it, you turn your body away to face her. It felt childish but you didn’t want her to see the pained expression on your face.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

You press your back to the wall, drinking out of your plastic red cup awkwardly as you watch a crowd of people dance up against each other—the lights flickering with color like a kaleidoscope in the ceiling.

It never dawned on you that you would ever be at a party on the mansion located in the hills of Jeju. For most residents here, their life goal is to be invited to a mansion party in this island. To get their small taste of the Great Gatsby. Although this wasn’t nowhere near as luxurious, it was still a big place with high ceilings, marble columns, and illegal drugs. Everything a rich person party needs and it made you feel out of place. They definitely party different—but most of the people here look like people your age so how different can they be?

You arrived to this party all alone. Sae-byeok wasn’t responding to your texts so for the first thirty minutes, you just took sips from your alcoholic beverage and walked around the mansion like it was a museum. It basically was a museum seeing as there were large intricate paintings and portraits carefully hung on the walls.

When you made it to the second floor, you started to get lost and after minutes of trying to find your way down the stairs you end up in an open space that looked like a smaller living room. A group of people occupied this space and turned to look at you when you froze by the entrance.

“Hey! Come over—don’t be shy!” a drunken voice slurs when you turned your back to walk away.

You quietly wince—without much of a choice you drag yourself over to them. A few kept their glazed eyes on you, others were too busy brewing an alcohol beverage that looked strong enough to make someone pass out. The person who called you over pats to the last empty seat next to them. It was a girl, short hair and multiple facial piercings.

“Now we have a full house!” she cheers once you sat down but no one acknowledged it, or least ignored her.

You peer at anything but the group of people chatting amongst each other. It was awkward being the only person not engaging in small talk so you keep taking swigs out of your drink. Now, you have to figure out how to slip out of this room without anyone noticing.

“Smoke?” the girl next to you asks, offering an already lit up cigarette to you.

You hesitantly stare at it. Since your dad was a heavy smoker, you were always intrigued by it. Screw it, you think, what else do I have to lose? You already lost everything.

When you nod, she holds the cigarette for you as you inhale the toxic smoke. Of course, you began choking up on the smoke and start coughing it out, your mouth and nostrils blowing out the grey smoke like a train engine. The girl laughs and starts patting your back.

“First time?” she asks, laughing and you only respond with a beet red face. “You didn’t inhale right. Breathe it in a little bit more deeper so it actually goes to your lungs.” she says and observes you as you try again. This time you didn’t choke up. “There you go.”

You never got her name but she offered you the strange alcohol concoction some dudes that looked blacked out drunk made. And with your mind already buzzing, you just took the cup and began drinking it. By the time you finished it, you were too afraid to move out of this couch with your head already spinning. It didn’t help that the people gathered around were blasting their own music and hopping on the seats like a bouncy castle—it only made you even more dizzy. But you couldn’t help but drunkenly giggle along side the girl next to you when one of the guys fell backwards on the couch.

She offers you another puff from her cigarette and you take it. When you place it between your teeth you see someone snatch it from your mouth. You peer up and see a hazy vision of the girl who led you to this party in the first place.

“There you fucking are. I was calling you.” she snarls, but her voice seeps of worry. You didn’t catch it however, your mind was too buzzed to properly catch her subtle cues. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m so tired…” you slur, resting your head in her lap. “All the time.”

Sae-byeok sighs and rakes her fingers through your hair, watching as you start lulling to sleep on her lap. But you couldn’t fall asleep just yet. The thought of dragging you out of this party and to your house already is making her body tired.

Sae-byeok knows better than you just drop you off home, knowing how hot headed your sister can be. She’s seen the way she barks order at you in her boutique. But it made her nervous bringing you to her house to spend the night. Ever since she bought the house with the prize money, she never allowed anyone in—she always thought the first people who would step in would be Cheol and her mom. But that’s what she gets for bringing more people into her life.

She crinkles her nose in disgust as she holds up your hair while your face was stuck in the toilet bowl, throwing up all the alcohol in your system. Once you’re done hacking like your life depended on it, you groan in pain and press your body on the tile wall of Sae-byeok’s bathroom—still unable to grasp that you’re actually in her house. But your mind is still loopy you couldn’t think about it too hard unless you wanted to throw up again.

You could feel the weight of her stare on your sad sprawled figure as you recollect yourself. “I’m not that drunk. Just dizzy.” you grumble at her, hugging your sore stomach.

“Whatever you say.” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Stay here—I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

After several minutes go by, she reappears with her worn out sweats and a band tee shirt. Her posture slumps when she sees you burying your crying face on your propped up knees. “Hey, why are you crying?” she asks in a softer tone, kneeling down to be at your level.

But you didn’t reply and maybe it wasn’t appropriate for her to ask you in your drunken state. So, she lifts you off the bathroom floor and guides you to her bedroom. When you lay on her bed, eyes already half lidded trying to fight back sleep, she chews on the inside of her cheek to think. You still have to change but you’re in a worn out state to physically be able to do it. It wouldn’t be weird for her to undress you and put on your clothes for you right? She’s seen you without any clothes twice before.

You don’t react when she starts pulling up your shirt, exposing your upper body to the cool air nipping your skin. And after she’s done putting on her sweats on you, you’re already asleep. She stares at your face, your mouth parted open slightly and cheeks tinted red from the alcohol. But she couldn’t help but worry about the tear marks across your face that didn’t dry up yet.

Once Sae-byeok finished doing her short nighttime routine she rolls next to you on her bed. She naturally spoons you, wrapping one of her arms around your waist and nestles her head into the crook of your neck. After inhaling the fresh scent of perfume and cigarettes on you she could feel her own sober self lull to slumber.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Head throbbing and limbs weak. That’s the first thing you felt when your eyes began to naturally flutter open. It took sometime to assess the place you woke up in and how you even got here in the first place. Your heart sunk when you remembered the hazy details. The sheer embarrassment of it all made you slam your face in the pillow and let out a groggily groan.

You are pathetic and an idiot. Sae-byeok saw the weakest form of you and you might never live it down. But surely you couldn’t have been that embarrassing? It’s not like you blacked out.

But now, you were afraid to leave the room feeling like you already trespassed enough. But Sae-byeok had to be somewhere in the house, she wouldn’t have left you here all by yourself you hope.

When you toss aside the sheets you gasp seeing the unfamiliar set of oversized clothes on your body. You’re conflicted whether to feel special or embarrassed with the fact she let you wear her clothes.

Sae-byeok’s room is…sad. She has no decorations that mark this room as hers except for her belongings mindlessly left on top of her night stand—her keys, wallet, and cigarette pack. It gets even stranger when you carefully step outside—the floor and walls were empty canvases.

You heard plates and silverware’s cluttering as you walked across the hallway. Naturally, you stiffen up and hug your body feeling exposed when you realized Ji-yeong was cooking something up in the kitchen and Sae-byeok leaning across the island counter, sipping from her mug. But only Ji-yeong turned to acknowledge you.

“Hey.” she greets casually. “I’m making breakfast, you want some? It’s not the best but probably will help if you eat something. Sae told me you got absolutely shitfaced last night—same here.” she snorts.

Your cheeks blaze up. When you glance over at Sae-byeok, your heart gets heavy seeing her act as if you were invisible to her. Did you piss her off last night thanks to your drunken stupor?

Feeling exposed and conflicted, you let out a low, “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Ji-yeong asks. “I don’t mind making another plate.”

You softly shake your throbbing head. “I’m just…going home.”

She doesn’t argue with you, only purses her lips and nods. You look at Sae-byeok again, still nothing. So you awkwardly shuffle back to her room to gather your things. You hope all your belongings are here anyways.

When you find your clothes folded by the edge of Sae-byeok’s drawer you press them to your chest and smell the stench of alcohol and cigarettes on them. You peer down and contemplate changing or walking away with the clothes you have on. That’s when the door creaks open behind you.

“Why aren’t you going to eat?” is the first thing she says to you. She leans her body against the door, keeping you trapped here as she hardens her gaze on you.

“I just want to go home.” you mutter in defeat, feeling small underneath her stare. “I’ll eat there.”

“Fine.” she exhales. “And…why were you crying last night?”

You swallow thickly. “I didn’t know I was…”

“You do.” she says coolly. “You weren’t that drunk by the time we got home. We both know that.”

You know that last night, you cried about everything in your life. The fact that you completely disappointed your parents for good, your sister sees you as a nuisance in her home, and you can never have Sae-byeok the way you want her. And you let it spiral a little out of control last night. But she isn’t with you and she isn’t your friend, so she doesn’t need to know.

“My head is too foggy right now. Just let me go please.” you croak out. She still doesn’t move out of the way. “Do you want me to give you your clothes back?”

Her posture slouches in defeat. “No. But can we just…just meet me later tonight at our spot, okay? We should probably talk.”

You don’t say anything. Actually, you didn’t much all day leading up to the night you met up with Sae-byeok. Because the moment you got home, all you did was stay locked up in your room with a throbbing headache and anticipating the night. You kept replaying the last thing she said to you in your head over and over trying to figure out what possibly would she want to talk about with you.

When midnight rolled around you threw on your black jacket and tossed the hoodie over your head, carrying Sae-byeok’s clothes with you as you snuck out the house.

Once you made it to your designated spot at the seashore, she was already there. She also had a hoodie thrown over her head but you knew it was her furiously typing on her phone. You took a deep breath before heading to sit next to her. As you sat down, you saw her face contort with frustration thanks to her phone softly illuminating over her face. She turns it off when she sees you silently waiting for her.

“Thanks.” she grumbles when you pass over her clothes and rests them on her lap.

“So,” you began airily. “why did you want to meet?”

She presses her lips together and pulls her knees to her chest in a guarded position that made you more nervous. “I just wanted to tell you that it was great having you around…before you I was pretty lonely—in general…And you’re sort of the first person I’ve ever been intimate with. But I realize how unhappy we both are and I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”

For the first time, she finds herself struggling to look over her shoulder to see your face. You shut your eyes to stop your eyes from filling with tears and prepare yourself to listen to the rest of her explanation. Even if it left an achy feeling in your heart.

“I’m—broken, okay?” Sae-byeok trembles. “I can’t make you happy. Not when I can’t make myself happy.”

You start sniffling. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? You always thought that things would never work out with someone as closed off and cold as Sae-byeok but hearing her say it out loud stung more than the past thoughts. But she was right, neither of you were in the right state of mind. It still pissed you off though.

“Fuck you.” you whisper at her, your tone rough but heartbroken. All those stolen kisses and rare nights spent tangled underneath the sheets were turning into bittersweet memories in real time.

Just as you cursed at her, the waves came hurling down twice as big than they normally do. You gasp when the cold salty water soaked your pants. The two of you start scrambling backwards and the contact of the water. Sae-byeok stares at you wide eyed as you mumbled multiple curses while frowning down at your drenched pants.

After the fleeting cursing, you whip your hear up at the sky and see the full moon shining brightly underneath you.

“I—I’m going I can’t—“

“No. Please.” Sae-byeok silently begs, firmly wrapping her hand around your wrist to prevent you from moving. This was the first time you heard her speak in such a vulnerable tone. She walks around you to fully face you, breath hitching but looking deeply into your eyes. “If I ever get my shit together…do you think we could give this a chance maybe?”

You shake your head. “Sae-byeok, I can’t predict the future.”

“Okay but just—“

“What about me?!” you retort back louder than you expect to sound. She immediately closes her mouth, eyes rounding. “Have you ever thought about how I feel? About my life? Do you even care at all? Sae-byeok…I’m so lonely and confused! Did you know I dropped out of law school?” you ask pressing your finger to her chest causing her to stumble backwards without saying a word. “No, you didn’t! And you never cared to ask about why my parents never thought to see me because—I disappointed them! So…So that’s why I moved in with my sister because I couldn’t stand the ridicules anymore but she is losing patience with me by the day so I bet it’s only a matter of time before she kicks me out. But…you made me feel seen. I thought what we had was sacred and special—and I held onto the hope that maybe one day you’d realize that too. But you don’t really want me—you like the idea or probably because you’re even more lonely than I am that you’re desperate for affection.”

By the time you finished talking, she already dropped your hand. You didn’t dare to face her when your eyes were swimming with tears and your body shaken up from the cold and heartbreak. And when you finally turned around to walk away, deep down you wished that she would stop you and fight for you. But if she doesn’t have any fight left in her, then that was a sign enough for you to leave.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok began watching you from afar. The morning bike rides you took to your sister’s boutique, when you sat outside your porch and staring down at the ground in deep thought, and the nights you laid on the beach. She left you completely alone.

As the days gone by she wondered if she’d ever get the pieces of herself back together. But the nightmares never really leave, no matter how much money the world can offer—the horrors she endured and witnessed never got better like she hoped.

After the bus ride back from Cheol’s foster home, she checks the calendar on her phone. In just two months, if things go smoothly, she’ll finally reunite with her mother and she can finally get back her small family together.

When those two months turned into one month, Sae-byeok started to notice you weren’t around anymore. She knows how much you like secluding yourself in your room, but Ji-yeong hasn’t heard from you and she hasn’t seen you on your routinely biking ride in the mornings. One night, she waited by the seashore hoping you’d appear but obviously you never showed up. She felt stupid for even trying to hope.

She broke your heart—you had every right to disappear from her life. But you aren’t physically around.

So, the night before she had to go pick up her mother from the airport she decided to take matters into her own hand.

Her sweaty hands knock on the door to your sister’s house. After a few minutes someone finally answers and it was your sister. The first thing she noticed was her slightly round protruding belly.

“Oh, it’s you.” she hums sounding disappointed and leans against the door frame. “Is there something you need?”

Sae-byeok inhales deeply first. “Is she here?”

Your sister stares at her blankly before an uneasy expression started to form. “She didn’t tell you?” she asks and Sae-byeok remains frozen in place with her heart hammering out of her chest. “She went back to live with our parents to study law again. Left like…two months ago?”

“Oh.” she says lowly, trying not to make her face look readable. “Thanks.”

Your sister raises a brow, feeling skeptical of her odd appearance. But she just watches as she slumps in posture whilst slowly dragging her feet out of her property before closing the door behind her.

Sae-byeok chokes back tears and recalls the events of the last time you two spoken. It hits her—you never promised her anything. Of course you left without a trace.

Now she can only ever wonder, if she told you that night she wanted to be with you, would you have stayed?

🏷️: @tyresedidujsfart @yourstalkergirlfriend @yenyu1s @we1rdth0ughts @asappywriter @lilylamps @am4lv0da @everly-summers-solace @peelover25 @saebyeokbliss @noaanotfound @jumpedthenfell-13 @tlouloser @lyzem @thisuserisxnangel @knfthxv @laurenkenss @ninistranaut @stellssxo @bitchybananaflower @gummyoonji @marfe816 @knvschau @monroesturnns

#kang sae byeok #squid game #kang sae byeok x reader #squid game fanfic #fanfic #kang sae byeok squid game #kang sae byeok x fem!reader #wlw #wlw fanfic #kang saebyeok #kang saebyeok x reader #sae byeok x reader #sae byeok #saebyeok #squid game x reader

132 notes · View notes

mysteria157 · 3 days ago

Text

I apologize if this is all over the place…lots of thoughts!

Lu…

This truly made me tear up. It’s so rare to see post shibuya Nanami and I’m glad you picked up the pen. Every piece of this was so brutally emotional. To see the Nanami we know—that self-sufficient man who works in absolutes and knows exactly how much effort he wants to give—reduced to this. Alive—but scarred emotionally, mentally, and physically. Reduced to home health aides and his students. You paint it so well.

And it’s raw. The reality of this situation is that Nanami was burnt so bad. And you don’t hold back at all. Describing his wounds, the fact that he has a face mask, a cane to help him around the house.

But through it all…what really made me tear up. And I was truly tearing up, were his morning affirmations. It’s just…I don’t even know how to describe it. To know that Yuji sent them to him and Nanami decided to do it?

“I embrace healing.”

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is new to you.”

“It’s a new day. New chances.”

This is healing. The gritty, frustrating, and terrible parts of it. You don’t just bounce back from 3rd and 4th degree burns. And not only that, but you don’t just bounce back from the emotional turmoil of losing more of your close friends, of playing the part as a sorcerer.

He deserves so much love, it’s insane.

I love how you’ve written reader. You can see that flicker of tenacity in her but she’s patient and measured, funny as well and she doesn’t hover. Keeping him occupied while also assisting with the salad. The mention of her ex and how she moves on so quickly (I need to know more Lu please).

Nanami wants that independence but isn’t ashamed to admit what he needs help with. He’s trying so so hard and the scene at the end when he’s trying to cut the tomato. I could feel that frustration, that hopelessness.

“This feels like it’s never going to get getter.”

But you still paint that hope. When he asks if he’ll be able to cook again, when he finally acquiesces and asks for your help with his fork, you can see that Nanami isn’t going to give up. And we all know pookie is not a quitter.

God…I truly hope you make another part to this. The way it ends and just how much emotional ground that can be covered…this deserves a Lu Part 2. One of my favorite post shibuya nanami fics.

Thank you for writing this. Truly. I love fics that show the depth of Nanami that we do not see or are easily overlooked. I love this man so much and you made me smile while I read this. Even through the tears.

Thank you for your wonderful words, Lu 💕

Lifetime

post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader

A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.

Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.

content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.

wc: 4.9k

an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.

Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.

First at home session since being discharged.

4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.

“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.

He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.

So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.

“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.

“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”

Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”

He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.

As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.

>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.

Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.

“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”

“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.

Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.

It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.

Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.

It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.

The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.

“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.

One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“That would be me.”

“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”

No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.

“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.

You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”

Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”

Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.

“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”

“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”

The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.

“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”

“It happens.”

You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”

His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”

“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”

“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”

Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”

A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.

His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.

“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.

“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”

“What if I don’t want extensive help?”

“I would respect the boundary.”

Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”

“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”

Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.

“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”

“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”

He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”

Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”

That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.

“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”

Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”

Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.

“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”

“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.

“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”

You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”

Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”

“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”

The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.

___________________________________________

The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.

He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.

“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”

Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.

His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.

He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.

“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.

Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.

Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.

Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.

He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.

Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.

Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.

Slow and steady. Nice and easy.

“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”

He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.

The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.

The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.

The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.

Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.

He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

7:55 am.

“Timely.”

slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.

“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.

“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.

Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.

“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.

“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.

Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”

“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”

Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”

Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”

The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.

“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.

“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”

You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”

A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.

“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”

With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.

It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.

A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.

You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.

You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.

After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.

You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.

“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”

It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.

You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”

His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.

He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.

Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”

You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.

_______________________________________

The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.

During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.

You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.

Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.

“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”

The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.

“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”

Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”

The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”

He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”

His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.

Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.

“You have some really great knife skills.”

You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”

“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”

“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”

Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”

You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”

He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”

“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”

Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”

He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.

“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”

Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”

You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”

Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.

The fork slipped.

The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.

He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.

A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.

His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.

“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”

Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”

He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.

You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”

“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”

“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.

The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.

You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”

Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.

His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”

The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.

You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.

Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.

He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.

You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.

#mysteria’s recs #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento x reader #jjk kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #shibuya arc

406 notes · View notes

writhyv · 2 days ago

Text

⋆｡°✩ coming home to your pouty bf

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader genre: fluff ffdsfsdfgdsg notes: one note - pouty jay

“Jaaaayy~” you cooed, trying to figure out what the small fuss was about.

“Mmh…” your lover pouted as he sat on your comfortable leather couch. He looked a bit conflicted, but also really mad. But not really? You’d know if he was truly mad, but this felt very strange.

Walking to his side, you tried to hug him. Even though he was starting to gain some muscle, you could still hug him tight like a sloth. Leaning your head into the empty space between his shoulders and neck, Jay sighed, attempting to look away from you.

“Jaaaayy~” you continued to try your best, watching him pout even harder. His lips were pursed, clearly upset about something.

“Mmh…” he kept giving you those tiny hums. Maybe something had set him off? But it was really hard to tell…

Thinking of what might’ve upset him, you took one last look at him before sitting properly on the couch. Gently holding his hand as you made your way through his arms, you prepared your voice so he could hear you clearly.

“Are you mad I got home early?” you asked, thinking this might be one reason for his unusual tantrum.

Jay shot a glance at you, almost breaking his own neck with the speed. You nearly had to hide your giggle, but a snort came out instead.

“Mad?” Jay raised his brow, clearly concerned.

“Y-yeah?” you replied. “Like… do you—”

“I’m not mad!” he insisted, trying to speak clearly. Understanding the certainty in his answer, you nodded back.

“Uh-huh…” you agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“I just…” another pout appeared on his lips, this time directed toward you. At least, that’s how it looked.

“Just?”

“Ughhh…” he groaned, lying back against the couch as dramatically as he could. Clearly, he wanted to say something, but there was a hiccup, and he felt stuck.

Rubbing his leg for comfort, Jay looked at you with an apologetic gaze. You smiled, knowing you were there for him, no matter what he was feeling at that moment.

“I…” Jay sighed before sitting up again.

“You?”

“I wanted to…” he gulped, holding back one last time. “I wanted to pick you up, and you didn’t call me.”

“Pfft!” You almost burst out laughing at that. Jay looked at you, donning that pout once more.

“Hey!”

“BAHAHAH!!” You laughed, rolling off the couch and landing on your rugged carpet from the sudden dose of comedy. “Oh my god…”

“You could’ve told me?” Jay continued, crossing his arms like a frustrated mother.

And rightfully so, he felt devastated (to a point). Listen, you’d never really done surprises around him, okay? Actually, that was his thing. He gives you flowers, a comfy chair, a famous painting, and maybe a couple of tickets to a nice game of Japanese baseball. TLDR, that was a HIM thing.

Knowing the date when your flight home lands was important to him, too. He didn’t care what time of day it was or whether he was tired from practice sessions or midnight meetings—he was going to get you home safe and sound.

And now, in his mind, his plan was ruined. He wanted to cook a nice dinner for a cozy night in, perfect a new song he’d just worked on to share the demo with you, buy candlelight, and cover your whole apartment in rose petals just to welcome you back from your stressful overseas seminar trip this week.

But none of that mattered anymore because it all came crashing down when he saw you behind your apartment door.

You wore a golden smile he truly missed seeing in person, looking so refreshed from your trip almost 4 million miles away from him. You radiated a particular shine, and Jay felt overwhelmed by it.

He couldn’t properly welcome someone so surreal that he called his own boyfriend. His lover.

Suddenly, all those emotions were washed away into nothingness. Without the sorrow of what should’ve happened, and the guilt of being outnumbered in your own game, Jay fell back on the couch with you on top of him.

With great force, you grabbed his face and kissed him as much as you could. It felt like running out of air while sprinting uphill, taking in all the oxygen around you and breathing it in as fast as possible.

That was what broke Jay, and it always would. A lasting kiss turned into a playful battle for dominance, which then transformed into a sweet release of dopamine and the scent of love between the two of you.

Jay could only touch his lips in awe, still stunned that you kissed him that much.

With a cute giggle, you looked at him and lightly tapped his nose repeatedly, laying your weight on his broad chest.

“So, still mad?” you asked.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jay looked away, trying not to cringe at himself for being so childish.

But with one gentle gesture, you took a finger to his jaw and turned him slowly to face you.

“Never be sorry,” you smiled. “I love you, always.”

Kissing him again felt like too much, yet you did it without hesitation. You loved overwhelming Jay with your romance because deep down, you knew this man needed all of it. And you were the only one qualified to administer this special procedure.

You were his better half, for better and forever.

jay is clearly the cutest member of enhypen. now smother him in kisses HAAHAHDJAHDJFSAF

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

90 notes · View notes

usomads · 1 day ago

Text

Slow Burn // Jimmy Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hiiiii :) had this sitting in drafts so I decided to finish it… and I’m– 🤤. Will be working on more stuff in the coming days, so stay tuned! Also, my lovely friend @zyvngi made this clip and I just… yeah there was no way I wasn’t using it lol. As always, happy reading y’all!

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Fluff (if you squint), Cursing, Drug Use (Weed), P in V, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 4.4k

You enter Jon’s house as you always did, swinging the door open without knocking and waltzing right inside– your body collapsing on his living room couch. Media had kicked your ass today, more than usual, and you were definitely feeling the effects of it. Jon happened to have a day off today, one that was hard to come by, especially with the work you two did at WWE– him being a talent and you a producer. That’s how the two of you met 4 years ago, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

“Well, good afternoon to you too, princess.” Jon teases, as you shoot daggers at him.

“I don’t know how much more I can fuckin’ take. Paul’s driving me crazy, the work is endless, and absolutely nobody seems to appreciate how much work I’m putting into this to make shit happen every show. I’m about to fuckin’ lose it.” You groan, flopping down onto the couch and rubbing your eyes.

Jon leans against the island countertop, grinning, clearly amused by your frustration. “Sounds like you’ve had a day… wanna vent or just keep it low-key?”

You sigh dramatically, sitting up on the couch. “No, no, I should probably let it all out. I swear, I’ve been busting my ass, and every time I think I’m ahead, something else gets thrown on me. And everyone thinks I’m this superhero that can just fuckin’ fix it,” you pause, rubbing your temples. “I just want a break, but I feel like there’s no time to take one.”

He nods sympathetically, then walks over to the end table and pulls something from the drawer. “You really need to take a break though, you keep goin’ like that, you’re gonna burn yourself out.”

You laugh bitterly, half-glancing at him. “I know, I know. It’s like I don't even know how to take a break anymore. It’s always work, work, and more work.”

Jon takes out a joint from his pocket and lights it casually, raising an eyebrow at you. “You want some help with that?”

He takes a slow drag, exhaling slowly as you stare at him– shocked.

“You… smoke?”

He laughs, shrugging nonchalantly as he continues to puff on the joint. “Yeah, ‘s not somethin’ I bring up, but yeah, sometimes it helps me unwind. And you look like you could use a lil’ somethin’ to take the edge off.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “I just… I never thought you’d be the type to do… that.”

“What, smoke?” he chuckles. “Well, you never really asked. Trust me though, a little bit won’t hurt. It’s just us, Y/N. No work, no stress…” he grins, taking another drag then passing it to you.

You’re hesitant, but also curious. You take the joint from him, your voice getting soft.

“I don’t know… I’ve never done… this before.”

Jon smirks at you, sitting down and leaning back on the couch as he grabs another joint– one for himself. “First time for everything, right? No pressure, ma. Just take it slow.”

Nervously, you take a drag, coughing slightly. “Oh my god…”

He laughs softly, leaning closer to you and offering you a reassuring smile. “Yeah, it can be a bit much at first. Just breathe through it, you’ll get used to it.”

You exhale, giggling nervously and shaking your head. “Okay, okay, I’m definitely not used to it. But… this actually feels kinda nice.”

You’re growing more confident by the second, taking another drag. Jon watches you intently, a gentle smile on his face.

“That’s it, you’re doin’ great, ma. You deserve to feel nice, just let go of all that stress, you know?” he soothes you, his voice dropping lower than usual.

As the night goes on, you both start to relax, the conversation flowing more freely. The effects of the joint take hold, and the atmosphere shifts in a way that has allowed the two of you to open up in a way you hadn’t before. You lean back against the couch, your eyes a little heavier but more relaxed.

“You know, I never realized how much I needed this… to chill. I feel like I’m always runnin’ around, doin’ everything for everyone, and never doin’ anything for myself.”

Jon nods, a softer tone to his voice as he responds to you, looking at you intently. “I get it. You’re always taking care of other people, but you forget about you. You deserve to slow down. You gotta take care of yourself, too. Not everything’s on you.”

You turn to look at him, the weight of his words hitting you deep within your chest. “I don’t know why I feel like I have to do everything. It’s like if I stop, everything’s gonna fall apart.”

He softens, his expression growing more serious. “You don’t have to be everything to everyone, you’re enough just as you are. But I get it, you don’t want to disappoint people.”

A moment of quiet rushes in between them as the room feels more intimate, the casual chatter fading into something more profound. The connection between you feels intense, a shared vulnerability settling in.

You look down, almost embarrassed, as you speak softly. “Maybe I don’t know how to stop being so… perfect. Like, I always have to keep everything together. I don’t know how to let someone help me.”

Jon reaches over and tilts your chin to face him, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to always be perfect, Y/N. With me, you can just be you, no pressure.”

The mood shifts. Your eyes lock, and there’s an undeniable charge between you, something unspoken but deeply felt. The air is thick with tension as you unconsciously move closer together. Before you can even process it, Jon leans in and kisses you, slow and unexpected. It’s not rushed, but full of emotion, a silent acknowledgement of everything you’ve both been feeling. The kiss deepens naturally, your mutual desire growing, and in that moment, the world outside fades. Reality hits you after a moment and you pull back slightly, eyes wide in shock as your breath catches in your throat.

“Wha–?”

He pulls back quickly, his own eyes growing wide, clearly panicked. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to– I just– I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have–”

He stands up, pacing slightly, his hand running through his hair. After a beat you stand as well, still in shock as you move towards him and gently place your hand on his arm.

“Jon…”

He turns to you, his eyes pinged in fear and nervousness as he looks at you. You step closer, looking at him with a soft but intense gaze. Before he can utter another word, you reach up, gently pulling him back down to you, kissing him again– this time with more certainty, as if you had wanted it too. You pull away slightly, breathing a little heavier as his eyes search yours, his expression mixed with relief and surprise– then, a smile starts to form on his face.

Jon leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours as that signature smirk of his plays on his lips. “Damn, Y/N… You got me over here thinking I messed up, and then you go and kiss me like that?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s something deeper laced within it—something raw, something real.

You exhale a soft laugh, still feeling the warmth of his lips lingering on yours. “Maybe I just wanted to shut you up,” you tease, running a hand through his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Jon’s grin widens, his hands still resting on your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Oh, word? That’s how you feel?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, Y/N. I think you’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

You raise a brow, playing along. “And if I have?”

His gaze darkens, his fingers tightening just slightly at your waist. “Then I’d say we got a whole lot of catching up to do.”

Before you can respond, he reaches over to grab the joint resting in the ashtray nearby, taking a slow drag before bringing it to your lips. “Here,” he murmurs, voice dripping with something dangerously smooth. “Relax a little. We got all night.”

You hold his gaze as you take a hit, the smoke curling between you as he watches you, his eyes flicking down to your lips before dragging back up. The tension between you thickens, wrapping around you both like a slow burn.

Jon leans back slightly, exhaling, his lips curving into a lazy smile. “You always look this good when you’re high, or is it just ‘cause you’re sittin’ here with me?”

You smirk, handing the joint back to him, your fingers deliberately brushing against his. “I don’t know, Uce… Maybe it’s just you.”

His laughter is deep, rich, sending a shiver down your spine. “See, now you just gassin’ me up,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he studies you. “But I ain’t mad at it.”

You shake your head, biting your lip as you watch him. “You like the attention, huh?”

Jon leans in again, this time close enough that his nose nearly brushes yours, his voice nothing but a husky whisper. “I like it when it’s from you.”

Your heart stutters, and for a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of music in the background and the sound of your own breathing. The world outside doesn’t matter—right now, it’s just you and him, the air thick with smoke and something even more intoxicating.

“Say the word, Y/N,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing up your arm, slow, deliberate. “Tell me you want this as bad as I do.”

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze, your pulse pounding in your ears. Then, with a small smirk, you whisper, “What took you so long to figure that out?”

Jon grins, and before you can say another word, his lips are back on yours, the kiss deeper, more urgent, as if he’s making up for lost time. He groans softly against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulls you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the lingering haze of smoke in the air, and the way his fingers tease at the small of your back all send a slow-burning heat through you.

“You tryna drive me crazy, huh?” he mumbles between kisses, his voice husky, dripping with amusement and something deeper.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly to the side as you let your fingers trail up his chest. “I think I already have.”

Jon exhales a slow laugh, shaking his head before taking another hit of the joint, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “Oh, you definitely have,” he murmurs, exhaling the smoke lazily before slipping a hand up to cup your jaw, tilting your chin back slightly. “But I ain’t mad at it, baby.”

Your breath catches as his thumb traces along your bottom lip, his touch featherlight but enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. You hold his gaze, letting your lips part slightly, teasing him just enough before you take the joint from his fingers and bring it to your lips. His eyes darken as he watches you, his expression shifting into something unreadable but entirely consuming.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” you murmur after a slow exhale, the smoke curling between you both, “and I’m gonna start thinking you want me.”

Jon chuckles, shaking his head as he licks his lips. “Oh, I been wantin’ yo’ fine ass,” he admits, his voice dropping lower, thick with something almost possessive. “Just been waitin’ for you to catch up.”

Your pulse quickens at his words, at the weight behind them, at the way his fingers are still tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the pull between you both magnetic, undeniable.

“And what happens now that I have?” you ask, arching a brow, challenging him, teasing him.

Jon grins, slow and knowing, his hands sliding down to your hips before he pulls you onto his lap, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now? Now I finally get to show you how bad.”

His words send a spark of electricity through you, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the way his breath hitches, the way his grip on you tightens.

“Damn,” he chuckles, his nose brushing against your cheek as he tilts your head, lips ghosting over yours but not quite touching. “You really been holdin’ out on me, huh?”

You smirk, your fingers still tangled in his curls as you whisper, “Maybe I just wanted you to work for it.”

Jon lets out a deep, satisfied hum, his lips finally capturing yours again, this time with even more urgency, more fire. His hands roam your body, fingertips grazing exposed skin, setting every nerve ablaze.

“Mm,” he murmurs between kisses, pulling back just enough to let his forehead rest against yours. “I don’t mind puttin’ in the work, baby. Not if it means I get to keep you right here.”

Jon’s grip tightens on your hips as he tilts his head back slightly, looking up at you with a mix of amusement and hunger. His fingers trace slow, teasing patterns along your bare skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his hands, the faint burn of the smoke in your lungs, and the deep pull of his gaze make your head spin in the best way possible.

“You really got me like this, huh?” he murmurs, his voice husky, rough around the edges. He smirks, exhaling a slow breath as his fingers press just a little harder into your waist. “Sittin’ on my lap, lookin’ at me like you already know what you doin’ to me.”

You bite your lip, dragging your nails gently down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. “Maybe I do,” you tease, tilting your head slightly, watching his expression shift. “And maybe I like it.”

He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as his hands slide up your thighs, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Oh, I know you do,” he says, his lips ghosting over your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. “You playin’ it all sweet, but you been wantin’ this. I can feel it.”

Your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. Maybe he is. The heat between you is thick, the air electric with the weight of everything left unsaid. But right now? You don’t need words.

He leans in, his lips just barely brushing against yours, teasing you, making you chase the kiss. “Damn, baby,” he murmurs, smirking as he pulls back just a little, enough to make you whine softly. “You really gonna make me work for it?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully as you drag your fingers up the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips barely touching his. “I thought you liked putting in the work?”

Jon groans, shaking his head with a laugh before finally closing the distance, kissing you with a deep, slow intensity that sends heat pooling in your stomach. His hands explore, memorizing every curve, every dip of your body like he’s wanted to do this for far too long.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “You taste too damn good, Y/N.”

Your heart pounds as you smirk, brushing your nose against his. “Must be all that smoke.”

He grins, his fingers tracing lazy circles at your waist. “Nah… it’s just you, baby.”

The way he says it, low and smooth, makes something flutter deep in your chest. You were just playing before, flirting for the fun of it, but now? Now, you can feel it. This is more than just a moment.

Jon studies you for a second, his gaze softer now, a little more serious. “What you want, Y/N?” His voice is still deep, still teasing, but there’s something genuine underneath it. Like he’s really asking.

You hold his gaze, your fingers still tangled in his curls as you whisper, ��You.”

He grins, slow and satisfied, like he just won a game he was always meant to win. “Then come here, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you closer. “Let me give you what you been waiting for.”

Jon’s lips move against yours with a slow, deliberate hunger, like he’s savoring every second. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady on his lap as his tongue brushes against yours, deepening the kiss in a way that makes your head spin.

His hands wander, sliding up your back, tracing along the curve of your spine. His touch is firm, possessive, but there’s a tenderness beneath it too—like he’s memorizing you, committing this moment to memory. When he pulls back, just slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath is heavy, his eyes dark with something deeper than just desire.

His lips find yours again, this time slower, deeper, his fingers gripping you tighter like he’s afraid to let go. And you melt into him, letting yourself get lost in the moment, letting yourself feel everything.

He leans back slightly, his dark eyes drinking you in, his expression smug but soft at the same time. “So you admit it,” he murmurs, tilting his head, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your hip. “You been wantin’ me too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe,” you tease, dragging your fingers down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. “What? You need me to spell it out for you?”

Jon lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, baby. I just like hearin’ you say it.” His grip tightens on your hips as he pulls you even closer, making you feel just how much he’s enjoying this moment. “Say it again.”

Your breath hitches as his lips brush against your jaw, his voice like honey and smoke, smooth and intoxicating. “Say what?” you whisper, tilting your head slightly to give him more access, your pulse racing.

His grin grows against your skin as he places a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your neck, his tongue just barely teasing you. “That you want me.”

You let out a soft laugh, biting your lip as you slide your hands up to his shoulders, gripping them just enough to make him hum in satisfaction. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression smug. “Oh, hell yeah.” He licks his lips, his gaze dark and hungry. “But I’d enjoy it even more if you quit playin’ and told me what I already know.”

You take a deep breath, your body fully pressed against his, the heat between you undeniable. “Fine,” you murmur, dragging your fingers up the back of his neck, playing with the curls at the base of his skull. “I want you, Jon.”

The second the words leave your lips, his grip tightens, his hands sliding down to your thighs before flipping you onto the couch, pinning you beneath him. You let out a surprised gasp, but it quickly turns into a soft moan as his lips crash against yours again, this time more urgent, more possessive.

“You have no idea how long I been waitin’ to hear that,” he murmurs between kisses, his lips trailing from your mouth down to your neck, his hands roaming every inch of you.

Your head tilts back against the cushions as you breathe out, your heart pounding. “Then why the hell did you wait so long?”

Jon lets out a low laugh, his breath hot against your skin. “’Cause you play too damn much,” he teases, nipping at your collarbone. “Had to let you catch up.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his hair just enough to make him groan. “And now?”

Jon lifts his head, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. He smirks, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip before leaning in so close you can feel every word as he whispers, “Now, I ain’t holdin’ back no more.”

Jon’s kiss is slow, deep, and consuming, like he’s savoring every second of finally having you in his arms. His body presses against yours, his warmth sinking into you, making it impossible to focus on anything but the way he feels—solid, strong, right. His hands explore, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before gripping you like he’s afraid you might slip away.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something deeper than just desire. Possession. Affection. Something real. His thumb strokes your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the heat burning between you two.

“You sure you ready for this, baby?” he murmurs, his voice husky, his breath fanning against your lips.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, but there’s no more hesitation. The tension, the teasing– it was always leading to this. To him.

You nod, looking into his eyes with a level of certainty that surprises even you. “I’m sure,” you say, your voice soft but filled with passion. “I want this. I want you. Now.”

He groans against your lips, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants, undoing them with a practiced ease. Every touch sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you, making it harder to think, harder to breathe. You tug at his sweats in return, eager to get him closer, to feel all of him, and when the last barrier is gone, the world outside completely fades away.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, and you can feel him, feel all of him, as he enters you. Moans fall from your lips as your walls adjust to his length, entirely consuming you as he slides in deeper. The sensation is intense, overwhelming, and it leaves you breathless as you both adjust to the fit.

You move together, the rhythm natural, fluid, as though you’ve been doing this forever. His groans match your own, every snap of his hips intensifying the connection between you. The way he touches you, the way he kisses you, it’s all so much more than physical. It’s about something deeper, something you both have been unknowingly craving for so long. There’s tenderness in every touch, urgency in every kiss, and beneath it all, there’s that deep, undeniable love that’s starting to take shape.

“God, Y/N,” Jon groans against your skin, his voice strained, as if it’s taking everything in him to keep control. "You feel so fucking good. So perfect.” He presses you closer, if that’s even possible, and you can feel him, feel every inch of his body hard against yours, as if he can’t get close enough. Each touch, each kiss, feels like an explosion of raw, unfiltered emotion, and as you move together, there’s an undeniable sense of belonging that wraps around you both like a cloak. His hands are everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, pulling you closer to him with every breath, every movement.

Your lips are caught in a feverish kiss, hungry yet tender, each one of his caresses sending waves of electricity through your body. His lips leave your mouth only to graze your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, making you tremble beneath his touch. There’s something about the way he kisses you, something intimate and all-consuming, that makes you feel like he’s not just touching your skin—he’s touching your soul.

"You feel so damn good," Jon murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. His hands slide down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he's completely consumed by this moment, this connection. His lips find the soft curve of your neck again, pressing kisses there that make you tremble, and you can’t help but moan softly.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, your voice shaky, your body vibrating with need. Every inch of you is on fire, every nerve alive with the sensations he's stirring within you. You want him, need him, and there's no turning back now.

He looks at you then, his eyes dark and filled with raw emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N,” he breathes, his lips hovering near yours. “You’re mine. I’m all in. Always have been.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his words, at the vulnerability he’s showing you. The intensity of what’s between you both only deepens, and you can feel the truth of it, settling between you like a promise.

"I’m all in too, Jon," you breathe, your voice steady now, filled with the certainty of everything you've been feeling. "Always have been."

His lips meet yours once again, and this kiss is different. It's softer, more intimate, filled with everything you’ve both been hiding—desire, love, longing. Every part of you is connected to him now, body and soul. You move together, slow and steady, savoring every touch, every kiss, like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

You can feel him, feel the depth of his affection, his love for you, and you respond with the same intensity, giving everything you have to him. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just the two of you, here, in this moment, and nothing could ever compare to the way he makes you feel.

“Fuck, Jon…” you moan, your head falling back. “I’m–”

“I know, baby,” he groans in the crook of your neck, “I know.”

And as you move together, your bodies becoming one, there’s a sense of completeness, a feeling that you’ve found exactly where you belong. And when you finally reach the peak of that all-consuming desire, it’s more than just physical pleasure. It’s an emotional release, a release of everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve been too scared to say.

When you both collapse into each other’s arms, breathless and sated, you can’t help but smile. There’s no question anymore. What you’ve shared tonight is only the beginning. This is only the start of something deeper, something real. And you know that with Jon, you’ve found exactly where you’re meant to be.

#jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso imagine #jimmy uso fanfiction #jey uso #the usos #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe smut #jey uso fic #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #the bloodline

87 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 3 days ago

Text

Awake

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 6.6k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.

And then he meets you.

a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)

...

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.

(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)

So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.

He sighed again.

He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.

Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.

When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.

Marcus 08:27 AM: Good morning, mija

Missy 08:28 AM: dad 08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad 08:29 AM: i’m dying

Marcus 8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”

Missy 8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again 8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩

Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter.

Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.

On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.

At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.

Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.

Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.

10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.

As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.

As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before.

He sighed.

Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office.

He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them).

Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.

“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?

Rob eyed him. “Are you?”

Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.

Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.

Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.

“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.

He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)

With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.

…

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.

And through all of it, he was fine.

He was fine.

…

Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.

…

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual.

He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.

Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped.

He blinked and looked down, confused.

There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.

He frowned.

Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.

Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.

Marcus 08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦

Missy 08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔 08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon 08:13 AM: how will you go on without him

He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.

Marcus 08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere

Missy 08:17 AM: wait! 08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to 08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go 08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good 08:19 AM: daaaaaad

Marcus 08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate 08:20 AM: I’m going

Missy 08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor 08:23 AM: I miss those scones

15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.

When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good.

He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings.

So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.

“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”

Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.

Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”

Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.

She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”

He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up.

She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch.

She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded.

“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.

“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”

He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”

Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”

Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested.

“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”

Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”

She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.

Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over.

“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay.

He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”

Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”

For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.

Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something he wanted to feel again.

He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.

When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?

But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.

When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”

Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”

Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”

She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked.

“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”

He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”

When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”

Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”

He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.

“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.

He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”

She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”

Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”

She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”

As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead.

By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.

She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”

She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet.

“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.

“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly.

She grinned at him. “Good.”

He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.

But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing.

“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up.

“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm.

Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.”

His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”

Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”

“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”

“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”

He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”

Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.

“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”

He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”

Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”

Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”

Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”

Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”

At least someone did.

…

On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.

He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always.

He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.

Missy 08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again 08:18 AM: have I created a monster

Marcus 08:27 AM: just pulled up 08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you

Missy 08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏

Marcus 08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next

Missy 08:29 AM: deal

Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.

“Let me guess – your daughter?”

He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”

She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”

He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”

She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful.

“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.

He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”

“When’s that?”

“Spring break.”

She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”

Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”

She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”

He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”

“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”

“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing.

“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.

Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.

Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.

“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”

She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”

He nodded, thinking that sounded nice. “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”

She turned towards him then and he leaned closer.

“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed.

“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”

Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.

“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”

Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled.

“I’d like that, Marcus.”

…

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.

(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)

He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it.

Rob (5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater (5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do

Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.

Marcus (5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea

Rob (5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time (5:44 PM): I mean, me too

Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.

He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got.

After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.

But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.

She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.

…

You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.

And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.

And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.

Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.

How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.

At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”

You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”

He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.

The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”

The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.

“Cozy,” you said, smiling.

Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”

Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”

You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”

He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.

You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”

“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”

Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.

“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”

He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”

For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling.

“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.

You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”

His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”

…

Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered.

You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in.

So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside.

Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.

His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.

“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.

“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed.

He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned.

You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”

He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”

You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”

He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”

You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”

Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”

You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”

He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.

“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.

He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.

Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.

He didn’t.

...

a/n: 🥰

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno #pedro pascal character fanfiction #x reader #awake fic

91 notes · View notes

rosa-tulipano · 1 day ago

Text

showering w luigi ehehehe *monkey covering eyes emoji* theres a little bit of smut under the pink break for y’all- consider it a gift :]

luigi would get the bathroom all nice and steamy because he loved to watch the billows dance around your head. while you waited for the water to heat up, he helped you with your pre-shower routine. luigi would carefully comb through your hair as you looked for the perfect playlist to put on that day, taking care to slowly work through any knots.

“luigiii,” you giggled, his favorite melody in the world. “you really don’t have to be thaaat gentle”

he let out a little chuckle as he set down the comb, moving his hands to massage your scalp. he watched you through the mirror melt back against his chest, each point of pressure from his fingertips coaxing all the tension you held in your body out through your little sighs. your head fell back a bit in pleasure and luigi took the opportunity to press light kisses against your shoulder and neck.

“youre so beautiful” he whispered against your skin, moving his hands away from your hair to wrap his arms tightly around your bare waist as he nuzzled his cheek against the side of your head, just taking in your face and figure through the reflection.

you half groaned at the loss of his ministrations and half laughed at his sudden compliment. you rolled your head forward, pausing to look into his eyes in the mirror before turning around in his grasp. immediately, his hands rested atop your bottom while your arms snaked around his neck. “well, i think you’re more beautiful” your fingers scratched lightly at the nape of his neck, inching into his hairline.

he groaned at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and a wonderfully content smile blossoming on his face. “nuh uh” he shook his head, “no way in hell” before surging forward to press his lips to yours. his hands sprinted to your head, playfully squishing your cheeks together. it was a passionate yet whimsical kiss. a kiss you couldn’t stop giggling and grinning through.

as his hands dragged down your back, luigi's lips moved wherever he could gain easy access- pressing into your smiles line, dragging down the column of your throat, crawling up to nip at your ear which caused you to squeal and push him away.

“okay! okay, okay we have to shower!” you tried to keep a straight face, but having to swat away luigis wandering hands made it incredibly difficult. he was able to get one solid smack to your ass before you got into the shower.

even under the water stream, luigi still refused to keep his hands off of you, even if it was just one hand rested on your hip. you took turns tending to one another- lathering and scrubbing each other’s bodies, gently washing each other’s face, and taking breaks to sing along with your favorite songs (using body wash and shampoo bottles as microphones, of course).

luigi took his time to shampoo your hair, massaging your scalp just the way you liked. when it came to his hair, you had him crouch down in front of you just enough to get the perfect leverage and reach.

“hurrryyy this is killing my knees,” he complained lightheartedly. you just laughed and scrubbed even harder, digging the heel of your palm into his head causing luigi to howl

as you rinsed everything off and stopped the water, you pulled the towel down from its bar only to look over and see luigi already out of the shower, committing the worst offence known to mankind.

“luigi!” you yell, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“wuh?” he looks you perplexed

you just stare down at his feet and the rug underneath them slowly getting darker and darker as it soaked in all the water that rolled down his body. “my bathmat….”

he guffawed at your reaction- so serious one would think he was stepping on a puppy or something. you look at him with incredulity and rising irritation.

“okay! sorry, i’m sorry!” he quickly whips his own towel around his body, lightly patting off the water from his legs before tucking it around his hips.

as you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how incredibly delicious he looked like that, luigi takes your towel from your hands. you watch curiously as he kneels in front of you, guiding one of your legs by the calf to rest your foot on his now clothed thigh. you giggle uncontrollably as he begins wiping down your whole leg before scooting back to move it onto the dry part of the bath mat and giving room to do the same to your other leg.

now fully in front of him, he works his way up, taking care to dry off every part of your body as you just watch him; smiling and grooving to the music. when he’s done he raises back to his full height and wraps the towel around your body under your arms, meticulously tucking it secure in the front with a very proud look on his face.

“why thank you, baby. that was very kind of you” you lean up to peck his mouth, “and you’re gonna make sure that bathmat is dry after we’re done, won’t you?”

“oh, but of course your highness” he kissed you a few more times. with those doe eyes? he’d agree with whatever you requested of him

you quirked your brow at his cheekiness, “hmm..good” with that you tugged him to the mirror to finish up your post-shower routine.

luigi sat down in the chair you usually had tucked in the corner of your bathroom- the chair you’d sit in to do your makeup in front of the sink. you took your time to tend to him: patting in multiple layers of skincare, brushing through his brows, dabbing on a lip mask; before moving onto his hair. luigi’s favorite part. you had some sort of magic hands that always left his curls looking wonderful afterward. it was relatively simple though, just raking a curl cream through and then finger coiling some of the strands along his hairline for more definition before gently patting out the excess water with a cotton t-shirt. something luigi never really cared enough to take the time to do before you came into his life.

luigi just sat back and took everything it, his hands obviously cradling your hips or waist of the sides of your thighs the whole time. the feeling of your fingers on his skin and in his hair were heavenly, coupled with the harmony of your humming along to your music had him ascending.

“done!” you exclaimed with a peck to his nose, bringing him back to earth. he had definitely fallen asleep a little bit, but he was more than happy to have been woken up. to luigi, your beautiful face beaming with pride was brighter and more inviting than any gate of heaven he could imagine.

he hummed in response with a tired smile, stroking his warm hands up and down your sides, “thank you baby” he mumbled

he looked so adorable you couldn’t help but just stare at him a little bit, lifting his chin up to get better look. “my pleasure, honey” you caressed his stubbled jaw, quickly smoohing his forehead

as you turned around to complete your own regimen, luigi stayed in place, leaning back in the chair and letting his head rest against the wall behind him. you did your own skin care and rewet your hair before combing some products through it- preferring to do it yourself.

luigi felt cradled in warmth, and not just from the remnant steam. he felt content, loved, and safe. more so than he’d ever felt in his life. he knew, watching you take care of yourself in your own little world, that he’d rather die than live a life without you. and that one day he will convince you to let him do your post-shower routine.

SMUT AHEAD. oral: male and female receiving

what started off as a relatively innocent shower, quickly turned to anything but. watching luigi's body bare under the constant stream of water, witnessing the way the soapy suds rolled down his taught torso and how the muscles in his arm flexed as he washed them away, had you reeling. the way you were looking at him, like he was the oasis you stumbled upon after days stuck in the desert, was not lost on luigi. he had taken the washcloth from you for a second while you had rinsed off your conditioner, but you snatched it right back from him

“please, allow me,” you whispered with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

you slowly dragged the soapy washcloth over his shoulders, your other hand moving to rake your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends ever so lightly as you continued your “cleaning”. you moved the washcloth over his chest, baring your nails just so to scratch at his skin. luigis eyes rolled back before they closed, taking in the chills that rolled down his back and the goosebumps that prickled his arms. you giggled to yourself, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, “that feel good baby?” he couldn’t even respond more than a moan

his reaction spurred you forward and you let your lips explore his wet skin. first around his prominent collar bones. from there they danced up the sides of his neck, focusing on the particular sweet spot that had him seeing stars. his hands gripped your waist, fingertips digging into the fat as if you were his anchor.

“ohh” a heavenly moan left his parted lips as you nipped at him, before you descended down his torso.

you took your time, peppering kisses over his nipples, licking and biting at his abs, and slowly dragging your lips down his happy trail. stopping right at the horizon of his curly tatch, your knees flush to the shower floor, you could feel his cock hardening against your neck

“baby…” luigis voice drew out above you as you looked up at him. he swallowed, trying to keep his composure but the warmth of your neck against his now painfully hard dick and the scratch of your fingernails dragging down his thighs had him suffering. the water was beating down on him and he was barely able to keep his eyes open, but he wanted to keep looking at you. he worked quickly to pull your wet hair back as best as he could and cupped your face as you nuzzled his cock. “oh, god” the scene before him was almost pornographic and all he wanted was for you to wrap your lips around him. “please, baby, please” he whined

when he spoke so sweetly, asked so nicely, how could you say no? any other time you’d tease him a little more, but his saccharine voice won you over tonight. and so, you obliged. keeping your hands on his thighs, you cupped your lips against the side of his cock and licked up to the tip where you circled your tongue around the head a few times before slowly puckering and sucking his length into your mouth.

“oh my fucking god” luigi groaned out, head thrown back at the sensation of your hot mouth working up and down his dick, your head expertly bobbing to get every inch of him inside of you. his left hand shot up to slam against the shower wall, finger curling in a pathetic attempt to grab onto something to no avail. “yes, yes, yes,” he mumbled as you burrowed your head down, pushing his length as deep down your throat as you could. luigi’s right hand gripped the back of you hand, tangling in your hair as he tried his hardest not to push you too much. you moaned with your mouth full of him, your fingernails digging into the skin of his hips where they had flown up to steady yourself. the vibrations made luigi involuntarily thrust his hips, causing you to gag. still you stayed flush against him, swallowing around his dick, the patch of hair tickling your nose. through the tears pooling in your eyes you looked up at luigi who had his eyes screwed shut and mouth slack, his expression causing you the moan even more. when your lungs burned too much with the desire for air, you pulled back with an aggressive pop. both your chests heaved in the desperate effort to catch your breaths.

“please,” luigi bent down to press his forehead to yours, his hands pulling your face up to meet his, “please don’t stop baby i’m so close” his breath was hot on your skin. his fingers swiped away the water that rolled down you cheeks, tears mixing with the shower stream. you nodded breathlessly the best you could with your neck already craning in his hands.

as soon as his forehead was off of yours, you went back to work, immediately taking him back into your mouth and sucking his soul out through his cock. you couldn't deepthroat him again, but you made sure not to leave a single centimeter of his dick untouched- whether it be by your lips or your tongue. you clawed you hands up his stomach, grasping at his abs. with a particularly strong stroke of your mouth, luigi gripped your fingers against him.

“fuck, yes, just like that.” he moaned your name, the sounds reverbrating off the shower walls making your pussy clench around nothing. those wonderful noises continued to spill from his lips as you kept bobbing your head and you couldn’t take it anymore, bringing one of your hands down to rub your clit. the pressure finally gracing your swollen bud caused you to groan and the resonance on his cock acted as luigi’s final straw. “i’m gonna cum” he announced breathlessly. and that he did. with three hard thrusts of his hips, luigi shot his hot load down your throat, which you swallowed obediently.

he didn’t even let you catch your breath when you pulled off of him, he scooped you up in his arms and pushed you against the shower wall.

“god, i fucking love you.” he basically growled before latching on to the side of your neck.

your mind was reeling from the prolonged lack of air and the humidity of the hot shower but you could feel luigi’s lips all over you. moaning and writhing against him, you clawed at his back, pulling him from where he was attached to your nipple. “i love you, too,” you quietly giggled before pressing your mouth to his. the kiss was heavy and messy, tongues gone rogue and teeth clashing against each other. luigi pulled away just enough to mirror your actions from earlier and began his decent to your core, his lips leaving a path in his wake.

he spread your legs just enough, hooking one over his shoulder. he kissed the length of the inside of your thigh while he looked up at you, biting at the fattest part. you sighed at the feeling, pushing your hands through his hair. you didn’t even have to ask for more before he pushed his face into you.

luigi was a munch, through and through, bringing you pleasure with his mouth was one of his favorite things to do. usually he’d take his time, working you up until you were begging for him. savoring your flavor with slow laps and kisses before bringing you to climax. but tonight he was a man starved. immediately, he began licking, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. his head slotted so hard into you it was difficult for him to breathe. he didn’t care though, not one bit, rubbing his big nose against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you.

“oh, luigi, yes,” the pleasure was too much for you to be able to say much else, “right there.” you gasped, his mouth having moved to suck on your clit. you griped his head tighter, rutting your hips into his face. luigi loved when you did that- when you’d use him as you pleased. he gripped your ass, using the leverage to pull you up further to him. with this new angle and his simultaneous sucking and licking on your clit pushed you over the edge

“oh my god, i-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before the dam broke. your body stiffened, your thighs tightening around luigi’s head, before your orgasm crashed over your body. absolute bliss followed the high, every one of your muscles instantly relaxing.

luigi took a few seconds to sit back on his haunches to catch his breathe before kissing back up your body, wrapping his arms tightly around you to hold you up when your legs gave out. you just looked at each other with wide grins, breathing equally heavy.

“that was crazy” you both said at the same time, your laughter light and airy.

“good thing we don’t have to do much to clean up” you quipped

luigi hummed in agreement, staring at the shower stream for a few beats before speaking “...wonder how much water we just wasted”

A/N: let me know what yall think!!! i love reading any and all comments. for some reason this took me hella long and isn't even that detailed so more detailed smut to come in the future! pls send me asks with your luigi daydreams or any requests <3

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fluff #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x yn

126 notes · View notes