#idk if he’d protect me but that’s okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haetrack · 8 months ago

Note

"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!

i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.

he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?

jaemin x afab!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader

a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...

jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.

he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.

even if he wants to.

it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.

he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.

all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.

jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet.

it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie.

you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.

you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.

you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”

he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”

judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”

he tilts his head, “with what?”

“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.

he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.

he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”

you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”

the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.

you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”

nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him.

he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.

a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.

you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him.

jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”

“it feels good for you, too?”

he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”

you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way.

you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.

he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.

he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”

you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”

his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.

there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.

it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”

he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”

“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”

a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints.

jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.

he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too.

he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable.

it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.

he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”

he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’

“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’

“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”

you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.

he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.

he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”

you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”

your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”

jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.

he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.

his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”

you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”

jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”

you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”

you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”

you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”

you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”

you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”

his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”

he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.

“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”

you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”

he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.

his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching.

he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”

“isn’t that what my angel wants?”

you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”

jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”

“yes… please, jaemin.”

his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”

you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”

“please keep going.”

he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.

with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”

a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”

his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.

the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”

“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.

“feel good, baby?”

you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”

“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”

your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel.

he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”

while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.

your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”

he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”

over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.

you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.

now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much. he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.

which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.

one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.

your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.

one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”

you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”

“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”

before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”

at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”

“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”

he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”

you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”

he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”

“want this, jaemin. want you.”

he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”

you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back.

“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues.

you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”

you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”

you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”

“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”

you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”

he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.

“wanna watch me put it on?”

you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.

as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”

you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”

your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.

your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”

“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”

he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.

it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back,

his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.

if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.

“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”

“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”

you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.

while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.

when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.

he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”

“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”

you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.

“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”

“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”

he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.

he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.

“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”

he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”

you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.

he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.

you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.

it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”

he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”

you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”

he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”

#asks #🥤 anon #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic #nct fic #nct imagines #nct dream imagines

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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

Text

home run | s.r.

in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: sex bro idk. the sweatshirt. smut with a lot of plot, glasses!spencer, dostoyevsky, paulo coelho, ur crazy if you think i proofread this, flirrrrrrting, protected p in v sex, fingering, heavy petting, post coital dysphoria (why can't i let them simply have a nice time) word count: 4.01k a/n: next on my quest to give fanfic readers realistic sex to read, i give you this! as always, tell me how u feel, my inbox is always open.

“Will you unzip me?” You asked softly, pulling your hair out of the way and turning your back to Spencer, who paused his own disrobing to undo the zipper of your dress.

It’d been a long day, the light hours spent in the BAU, and the evening spent at Rossi’s, who wanted to get at least one more cookout in before the weather turned. You’d finally reached the end of your day, and for the first time, you were spending it with Spencer.

Facing away from him still, you let the fabric drop to the floor, taking your sweatshirt from your go bag and tugging it over your head. Spencer hummed from behind you, “I can’t believe you still wear that.”

A small smile formed on your face as you turned around. “It’s comfortable,” you justified, the old FBI Academy sweatshirt had previously lived in Spencer’s apartment, but you’d claimed it for yourself nearly two years ago. It had the perfect amount of wear, making it one of your favorites—among other reasons.

You tried not to let your eyes linger while Spencer changed, instead focusing on details in his room that you’d never seen before and making note of what books he kept on his nightstand. “It’s old,” Spencer responds plainly, putting on an old MIT t-shirt and reaching out for you, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.

Before being with Spencer, you wouldn’t have considered yourself the kind of person to take things slowly, but with him, that was the only option you were willing to consider. You were so scared of things being ruined with him that you only made moves when you knew you were absolutely ready. Maybe that was why it took you nearly two years before the two of you started dating, but he was willing to walk the tightrope with you.

You walked around the bed, sitting up on the mattress and watching him go into the bathroom, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” He asked from the bathroom, coming back out with his glasses on and leaning against the doorframe.

Humming, you look over at him, “Didn’t think that far ahead?” A teasing lilt carried through your question, cocking your head as he made his way over to you. He’d asked you on Monday if you’d like to spend Friday night at his place, and he had seemed surprised when you accepted his offer.

“I have a few ideas, but I wanted to see if there was something specific you had in mind. Since you’ve already interrupted your usual schedule to stay here, I wanted to give you a choice,” he rambled. He always rambled when he was nervous.

You raised your eyebrows curiously, “Spence?”

With him standing in front of you, you studied his eyes. His contacts had a blue tint to them, so seeing him in his glasses was really your only opportunity to see his eyes as they truly appeared. “Yeah, baby?”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, “We don’t have to do anything special. What would you be doing if I weren’t here?”

“Reading,” he told you unabashedly.

Honestly, you should’ve guessed that. “Okay, then we can read. Do you have a book I can borrow?”

Spencer nodded, “You’re welcome to anything, but are you sure? We could find a movie to watch instead.”

“We don’t have to do anything special just because it’s our first night together, and besides, reading side by side sounds nice,” you told him, waving off his concerns about entertainment and walking into the living room, scanning over his extensive collection. Plucking one off the shelves, you return to Spencer, watching him pull the covers down on the bed, preparing both yours and his side.

You set your book on the nightstand and climbed up on the mattress, his box spring causing it to be almost precariously high. “The Alchemist?” He questioned, reading the title of the book that you had selected.

Tracing the title with your fingertip, you shrugged, “I’ve never read it. Should I pick a different book?”

He shook his head in response, “No, and I don’t want to influence your opinion with mine.”

“Well, what are you reading?” You peered over to look at the book in his hands, reading the cover, “How many times have you read that book?” Since you started dating four months ago, he’d read Crime and Punishment at least three times.

Flipping the book back open, Spencer went back to the pages, “I’ve never read this version before, the editor decided to publish his thoughts along with the translated text.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, “And what are your thoughts on that?”

“I think his translation of the original Russian is perfectly adequate, but his comments read like a high schooler who was forced to read the book for a class,” he explained, his hand absentmindedly resting on your bare thigh once you settled into the bed.

Humming, you opened your book, reading the foreword and trying to ignore Spencer’s hand placement. There was no reason to lose your mind over a little thigh touching.

Once you made it to the beginning of the actual story, you became vaguely aware of Spencer’s thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your thigh, leading to you closing the book and setting it back on the bookshelf. Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your side, leaving Spencer to move his hand from your skin, and you rested your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at him, watching his lips move as he read the words on the page, you felt very lucky to have this part of Spencer. The Spencer who let his glasses slide to the very bottom of his nose and had an affinity for reruns of cartoons from the eighties. “Are you alright?” He whispered once he finished his chapter, reaching an arm up to ruffle your hair affectionately.

“Mhm,” you murmured, “Don’t feel like reading.”

Gently, Spencer craned his head to drop a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, eliciting a small smile from you. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.

As odd as it seemed, you liked watching him read, at the very least, it was impressive to watch. You kept your eyes on him, watching how intently he focused on the book despite having read it several times before.

He looked back down at you, catching you staring, “Can I kiss you?”

The question took you by surprise, but you nodded in response, looking at him as he ducked his head down and pecked your lips. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, putting his free hand in front of his mouth as he went back to reading.

In his defense, his resolve lasted for one more chapter, turning the page before snapping the book shut and resting it on his nightstand. Spencer turned his head to yours again, “Hey.”

“Hi,” you responded, unsure about where he was headed with this. Opening your mouth to ask him a question only to be met with his lips on yours, he took his time now, resting a hand on the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb at the hinge of your jaw as he held you close.

Tentatively, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and that single motion drew a small moan from the back of your throat, causing you to pull away from Spencer.

Your eyes were wide in surprise, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

Spencer shook his head, pulling at your waist, “C’mere,” he said, encouraging you to straddle him, your knees on either side of his hips, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning forward and resting your hands on his chest, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “This is okay,” you whispered against his lips.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t made out before, it was usually just on the couch, or in Spencer’s reading chair, or one time when you were the only two on the jet. This—making out in his bed—it felt different somehow.

Coming back up for air, you looked up at Spencer, a giggle escaping your throat as you tried to meet his eyes. “Oops,” you said, his glasses had fogged up while you were kissing, so you leaned back while he took them off, resting them on his nightstand.

Spencer rested his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently massaging over your hip bones as you studied his expression, “Honey,” he said, suddenly serious, “I want you to know that I didn’t invite you to spend the night with this in mine.”

He was drawing the same conclusions as you, but still, you looked at him doubtfully, “Do you mean to tell me that the prospect of sex didn’t even cross your mind when it came to inviting me to spend the night?”

A soft pink bloomed across his cheeks, you found yourself wanting to kiss them, “Okay, maybe it occurred to me that we might find ourselves in this position.”

You straightened up slightly, “So, I trust you have a condom.”

Nodding, Spencer reached a hand up and smoothed your hair back with the kind of tenderness that made you want to cry. “I do, but we don’t have to have sex tonight, okay?”

“But I want to,” you responded, maybe a tad too quickly. Your face warms, “I mean… I’d like to. If you want to.” With an air of finality, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, one of your hands found a home in his hair while the other rested on his collarbone.

As if on cue, the phone started to ring. An incessant blare designed to wake you up in case you were being called in in the middle of the night. Spencer chuckled as you dramatically dragged yourself off of his lap and dug through your bag for your phone.

If it were Penelope or Hotch, you’d answer without a second thought, but the caller ID showed your sister on the other line. You declined the call, texting her an excuse before leaving your phone on the nightstand.

Spencer dragged his fingertips down your arm, “Who was it?”

“JJ,” you told him leaning back over his torso and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I’ll call her back later,” you continued, kissing the other corner of his mouth.

He hummed in response, settling his hands on your waist, “Tomorrow?” He proposed, gently guiding your back to the bed.

Nodding, you looked up at him, “Tomorrow,” you confirmed, sighing contently as your legs fell open, giving him the room he needed to rest his body between them. You’d never felt so at ease in bed with someone, no one had ever touched you so carefully before.

“Good,” he whispered against your lips, gently parting them with his own as you looped your arms over his shoulders, “Hold on,” he said, pulling back and climbing off of the bed.

Your eyes followed him intently as he stopped in front of his go bag, unzipping the side pouch and pulling out a familiar-looking box. “You’ve been keeping condoms in your go bag?” Your question is succeeded by a fit of giggles, any nervousness disappearing at the realization that Spencer’s been carrying contraception with him all day.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer lobbed the box at you, but you were still laughing too hard to be bothered by the lightweight box hitting your arm. “Excuse me for wanting to be prepared,” he teased back, climbing up on the bed and finding a spot right next to you.

“No, you’re right,” you said, continuing to giggle despite your best attempts to stop. “Okay, I’m sorry, let me put on my serious face,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line, holding them together with your teeth as you tried to stop any giggles from escaping. “You would make a great boy scout,” you told him, failing to keep a straight face.

Sighing, Spencer kissed your smiling lips, giving you a soft peck between every word he said.

“You’re.”

Kiss.

“So.”

Kiss.

“Cute.”

By the final kiss, you’re ready to ascend into the heavens. Knowing you can die happy because you’ve known what it’s like to love him. You’re not even worried about the fact that he chose to call you cute as opposed to hot or sexy. Spencer’s never let you consider the idea of being someone other than who you are.

“I love you,” you whispered, looking at him as he positioned himself between your legs again, taking your lower lip between your teeth because this time you could feel his length. Even through three layers of fabric, his hardness pressed against your core in a way that made your head spin.

Spencer hummed, “I love you too.” His tone was careful as his hands slipped up your sweatshirt, a totem to show where the two of you started and where you are now. His fingers wandered over your skin, an exploration of your body as the hem of the sweatshirt started riding up your waist, “your heart is racing.”

You sat up, trying to encourage him to take your sweater off, “You have that effect on me.” You took a deep breath as he followed your cue and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, once he tossed it to the hamper, you pushed at his t-shirt, whipping it off his body without a care in the world.

He was just looking at you, just studying you in the way someone would look at a piece of art. Feeling encouraged, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting the fabric fall off of your chest before dropping it just off the side of the bed. “Pretty,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss you again, his lips making their way along your jawline, along the column of your throat, and just below your collarbones. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, rendered uncharacteristically at a loss for words at the sight of you topless.

You gasped as his lips attached themselves to your chest, sucking at the soft skin and leaving little love bites behind. He moved his hand to gain better balance, leaving one at the side of your head, “Ow, Spence,” you yelped.

Spencer’s head snapped up, “Are you okay?” He asked, more fear in his voice than was strictly necessary for the issue.

“Your hand is on my hair,” you said, moving your hair behind your head when he instantly moved his hand.

He dropped a kiss to your forehead, oddly domestic for the state of undress you were in, “I’m sorry, honey.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, c’mere,” you whispered, placing your hand on the back of his head and guiding his lips to yours. Slowly, you extend your free arm between your bodies, slipping your hand between the elastic of his briefs and his stomach, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

He moaned into your mouth at the contact, his lips faltering against yours as you ran your thumb over the tip, gathered his precum on your finger, and withdrew your hand, bringing your hand up to your separated mouths and sucking the liquid off of your thumb. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck, bringing his lips further down your chest until he took your nipple in his mouth, nipping at it gently with his teeth while his fingers wandered up to play with your other breast, massaging the flesh.

“Oh,” you breathed, looking up at the ceiling fan and trying to stop your hips from bucking up as his mouth separated from your breast with a wet pop, his hand skimming down your torso and stopping just above the hem of your underwear, looking to you for permission before he exposed your core.

Slowly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties and dragged them down your legs, leaving them on the mattress for you to find easily as he pushed your knees apart. His hand made its way to your pussy, fingers dragging lazily up and down your slit, “Is this okay?”

Nodding, “Yeah,” you answered, bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers, but you were surprised when it didn’t come yet. Instead, his index finger pressed gently against your clit, softly rubbing at the bundle of nerves, trying to prepare you. A soft whine escaped your lips at the sight, “Will you kiss me?” You asked, your eyes wide and pleading with him.

Obliging your wishes, he left his hand in its place while he pressed his lips against yours, you slid your tongue into his mouth, running the tip of it along his bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he played with your clit, need growing in your core as his fingers moved.

“Ah,” you gasped against his mouth when he slipped a finger into your hole, separating your lips while you tipped your head back against the pillows. “Oh, wow,” you breathed at the feeling of him knuckle-deep in you, his finger remaining still while you adjusted to the intrusion.

Spencer hummed, bringing his head back down and resting it on your tummy while he curled his fingers in your cunt. You brought your hands down to rest on his head, tugging at his hair while he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, wet squelching sounds emanating from your core as he did.

A moan was ripped from your throat when he added another finger to the mix, stretching your pussy even further while you felt your walls contract around his hand. “Spence,” you breathed, moaning again at the sensations that were coursing through your body, “Spence, baby.”

He tore his eyes away, looking up at you while his hand slowed slightly—just in case, “What do you need, honey?”

Honey. The sweet pet name plucked at your heartstrings as you propped yourself up on your elbows, “I’m— Can we...?” You started, not sure how to proposition him. Can we have sex? Seemed like too little too late. Will you make love to me? Made you want to throw up in your mouth a little bit. “Will you fuck me?” Was what you settled on, albeit a bit crude, but it was your best option at the time.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, eliciting a whimper from you at the emptiness, he reached over for the box of condoms that he had previously thrown at you, handing the box to you so he could shed his boxer briefs.

Staring at the way his cock stood at attention, you considered wrapping your mouth around him, just for a moment, but Spencer didn’t seem interested in anything other than doing what you’d asked of him. Instead, you reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around the base. He was already plenty hard, but you felt the need to reciprocate pleasure, which is why you were surprised when he moved your hand before you could even start.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, and you nodded a response, telling yourself you’d remember to return the favor in the future. Maybe in the morning.

Handing him a lavender packet, you watched as he carefully tore the package open, pinching the tip and rolling the condom over himself. “Is this good?” You asked, lying on your back as you watched him settle back between your legs, your breath hitched as his cock lined up with your entrance.

Spencer nodded, “You’re perfect. I’ll go slow, okay?” He rubbed at your thigh comfortingly, waiting for you to give him another okay before he started pushing into you. Between your wetness and the added lubrication of the condom, he slid in with little resistance, but he took it slowly, just like he had promised.

He watched you the whole time with the knowledge that you hadn’t had sex in years, the last thing he’d want to do was cause you any pain.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, you buried your face in his neck, pressing little kisses to his soft skin as you focused on anything other than the pressure in your core.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, he didn’t even have to ask you for the reassurance. “I’m— fuck,” you cried out, unable to help the way your walls tightened around his cock. “You can move,” you told him, your voice muffled against his neck.

He inhaled sharply as he pulled his hips from yours before slowly pressing them back together, “I love you.”

You nodded, “I love you too,” you murmured, muffling your moans in his neck as a courtesy to his neighbors, unable to control them as his tentative thrusts turned into a steady rhythm. Carefully thrusting into you while he moved one of his hands up, intertwining your fingers with his at the side of your head—minding his hand placement.

Hooking your ankles together behind his back, you squeezed his hand at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. He continued fucking into you, pushing your legs open even further until he hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Spence,” you cried out, trying to warn him about your impending orgasm before it washed over you. Your walls uncontrollably clenched around him as you fully muffled yourself against him, soft squeaks escaping your mouth as he kept going, the pulsating of your pussy driving him even closer to his own orgasm.

His hips stuttered in their movements as you pulled your face from his neck, breathing the cool air as Spencer spilled his cum into the condom. His head drooped, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone as the both of you caught your breath. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warned you, carefully slipping his softened cock from your hole.

A slight panic came over you as you felt tears well up in your eyes faster than you could process them, hiccupping for air as they fell down into your hairline.

That got Spencer’s attention, lifting himself and looking at you, “Hey,” his voice was so soft, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Bordering on babbling, you shook your head, “No, I’m fine,” you cried, more tears falling from your face. “I don’t even know why ‘m crying,” you told him, resting a hand on your chest.

“Shh, hey,” Spencer cooed, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Gingerly, he laid down on his back and pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he smoothed your hair back comfortingly. “There are just a lot of emotions going through you right now, and that’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

You nodded slowly, “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, having ruined a perfect first time by bursting into tears immediately after.

Spencer pressed a tentative kiss to your hairline, “It’s okay, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s completely normal,” he murmured, one hand in your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “You’re alright. Hey, it’s called post-coital dysphoria, and it happens to about forty-six percent of people,” he told you.

Despite yourself, you gave a breathy laugh, “I feel like you’re making that up so I’ll feel better.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with your fingers.

“It’s a real thing, I promise,” he reassured you, continuing to comfort you until tears stopped falling. “Hey, what do you say we get cleaned up and we can watch something in bed.”

You hummed in response, “You don’t like screens in your room, you say it messes with your REM sleep.”

“It does mess with your REM sleep, but I’d be willing to make an exception for you tonight,” he said, smiling softly when you lifted your head from his chest. “Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”

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ellecdc · 10 months ago

Note

Darling, the possessive!Remus fic was sooo good!! 🩵😫

Could i request another part please?? Hwere reader is hiding something, maybe an injury or illness or scent or something stupid she did with James... idk what but something. Anyway, reader sees Siri and Rem, stops, makes eye contact, then bolts in the opposite direction 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

I feel like both (especially Rem) would instinvtively chase, maybe they find her begging Jamie to hide her 😭

Love you lots!! And remember to get enough rest 🩵

Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ? Sir? Don't run from the lord!!!! No, you're so right babes.

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: slight injury, nothing major, fluff

“Okay, well the wound is closed but there’s not much I can do about the bruising or the blood on your shirt.” James said as he gently pulled your uniform shirt back down from where he’d been inspecting your ribs.

“That’s fine – I’ll ice it later; I’ve gotta meet the girls like five minutes ago.” You said as you pulled a jumper over yourself to hide the blood staining your shirt.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to Madame Pomfrey?” James asked with a grimace.

You rolled your eyes. “If it hurts terribly, I’ll go later.”

“And you think you’ll be able to avoid Remus and Sirius until then?” James asked somewhat doubtfully. You grimaced in response. “This close to the moon, Remus will be able to smell that blood on you from across the castle.”

“I can’t worry about that right now; I need to go.” You said simply as the two of you rounded the corner.

You halted suddenly as you spotted Remus and Sirius down the hall – they quickly noticed your tense demeanor which caused them to slowly cease their movements too, mirroring you as you stared them down and they you from across the corridor.

“James.” You murmured without moving a muscle.

“Yeah?”

“Do you see them too?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you hide me?”

James groaned. “Y/N…”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me to the wolves.”

“I love you, you’re the sister I never had...but I’ve got a Regulus to think about, you know?”

“It’s been an honour knowing you.” You responded solemnly, nodding in understanding.

“God speed.” He whispered back before you took off in a sprint.

You could hear a shout and heavy footfalls behind you alerting you to the fact that you were indeed being followed.

You rounded corners and climbed flights of stairs, lungs and legs burning from the effort as you very much regretted your choice to bolt. Maybe you could have talked about it? Maybe you could have convinced Remus you were fine and did not need medical attention? Maybe Sirius would have sided with you?

But no, you chose to run when Remus was at his most possessive, territorial, and protective, and he was with accompanied by Sirius who rivaled Remus’ full moon possessiveness all month round. And also, why the hell does this school have so many stairs!?

Suddenly, refuge came in the form of the third-floor girls’ lavatory. You barrelled your way through the door, clamoring into a stall and locking the door behind you. You sat on the toilet seat and pulled your knees to your chest, though it was all for naught, because even if no one could see your feet, they’d surely hear your laboured breathing.

You heard the door open again and the scuffling of feet followed by deep sighs. You pointed your face to the ceiling as you listened to the footsteps growing closer and closer before Sirius’ head and arms flung over the top of the stall beside you where he beamed goofily at you.

“Hey gorgeous! What’re you doing?” He sung casually.

“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” You hissed at him as your face heated in embarrassment – both from being caught hiding from your boyfriends and of your boyfriend for following you to the loo.

“Where you go, I go.” He said simply with a shrug as if talking to his girlfriend over a bathroom stall was common practice.

“Do you really think there’s anywhere in this castle that you can hide that I won’t find you?” Remus deadpanned from your opposite side, and you spooked (nearly slipping into the damned toilet) as you noticed he too was standing on the toilet of the stall beside you in order to look down on you.

“Oh, for crying out loud.” You muttered as you stood from your toilet hideout and exited the stall.

“Not that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life chasing you, darling but-” Sirius started teasingly before he was cut off by Remus.

“What happened!?” He rasped as he reached for you gently.

“I’m fine, Rem.” You tried, but he swatted your hands away.

Slowly, so slowly – as if he was afraid the fabric of your clothes would somehow bruise your skin – lifted your jumper to expose the bloody button up below it.

“Baby!” Sirius cooed in sympathy.

“I’m fine.” You reiterated.

Remus shot you an unimpressed look. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Can you take this off, please?” He said as he gently lifted you to sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, motioning to the jumper currently shielding his view.

You acquiesced and also began lifting the side of your blouse up unprompted. Both boys hissed as they saw the bruising on your ribs.

“What happened?” Remus asked again, gently prodding the area.

“Some first years got a little too rowdy in the hallway – running around and not watching where they were going. I bumped into a suit of armour, but James healed it up.” Remus’ head snapped up to yours as Sirius’ gaze darkened.

“Prongs healed you? On your side? With your shirt up?” Sirius asked expressionlessly.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for goodness – yes! What’s the big deal?”

He continued his interrogation as if you hadn't said anything at all. “He saw your shirt pulled up like this? He touched you here?”

You sputtered, turning your attention to Remus. “He heals you every month!”

He grimaced in sympathy but clearly agreed with Sirius. “I guess...just seems a little...intimate.” He conceded.

“Well, do I have to get all worried about you guys on the full moons? Or that he gets to share a dorm room with you?” You asked sarcastically. Sirius smirked at you.

“Awe babes, you don’t have to be jealous – we’re all yours!” He said in a sultry tone as he moved to stand between your legs.

“You’re not funny.” You deadpanned.

“You should go to Madame Pomfrey, love.” Remus stated after completing whatever diagnostic inspection he was doing on your side.

“Wha- no! Rem, I’m fine. Nothing is broken, it’s not bleeding. I’ll ice it when I get back to my dorm tonight, but I’m supposed to meet the girls. Please don’t make a big deal of this.” You were embarrassed that you’d been reduced to begging, but you could not bail on Lily and Marlene again.

Remus grimaced. “Love, I’d feel better if you had it looked at...”

But Sirius Black – equally as likely to be your saviour and your damnation – opted to take pity on you. “Oh, come on Moons. We can fuss over her all night; let her spend time with the girls.”

Remus groaned and looked between the two of you before rolling his eyes in surrender. “Fine. But I will fuss over you tonight, got it?” He muttered sternly, but the love and affection that pooled in his eyes as he said it diminished his chiding greatly.

“Of course. I’d not have it any other way.” You sang back to him as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

“Okay. Let’s get out of the girl’s loo.” Sirius said as he turned and bent down in front of you, still seated on the bathroom counter.

“What are you doing?” You asked incredulously. Sirius scoffed as if you were being intentionally difficult.

“Giving you a ride, obviously. Can’t let our poor injured dolly walk these corridors on her own.” He backed up further into you and tapped your thighs with his hands impatiently.

“I very well can, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that your poor injured dolly just outran her two boyfriends.” You scoffed indignantly.

“You know Moons, perhaps she should go to Madame Pomfrey after all.”

“Okay, okay!” You shrilled as you clamored up onto Sirius’ back.

Remus chuckled and pecked a sweet kiss to your temple – now almost at eye level with him as he placed a gentle hand on your back, protectively close to your sore ribs.

“Thank you for appeasing us, sweetheart.” He murmured into your hairline.

You feigned annoyance, but you’d do so happily for as long as these two men would let you.

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martiniluvr · 10 months ago

Note

IDK if requests are open but i NEED a Jason Todd hc as a dad

Love yaaa

🎧

they absolutely are ESPECIALLY for dad!jason omg… headcanons under the cut 🩷

also my first emoji anon hi ily 🥹

minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

jason todd never thought he’d be a father, but now that he is one, he can’t imagine life any other way.

I know in my heart of hearts he’s a girl dad. just picture it. everything about it makes sense.

she inherits his little white streak, and it’s his favourite thing in the world.

he’s determined to be the father he always wanted needed. he’s loving, affectionate, gentle, and fiercely protective of his little girl. from the first time he holds her as a newborn, he knows he’d kill die for her.

there’s no request he can deny his child. donuts after breakfast? of course, he’ll have one too. flashy cartoons before bed? absolutely. playing hair salon before school? he’s dropping her off with butterfly clips still in his white streak.

one day, you get a call from the school about an incident in class that started with a boy breaking her barbie pencil and ended in a bloody nose.

“my daddy told me it’s okay to punch mean people! he says he does it all the time at work.” oops.

you glare at jason, but he can’t hide the proud smile on his face. you apologise profusely to the teacher, ensuring this will be dealt with. as you leave the school, though, jason takes your daughter’s small hand in his, giving it an encouraging squeeze, and you know you can’t be mad for long.

there will come a day when you both have to contend with the challenges of adolescence—prom, parties, mood swings, driving. jason will have to meet her first boyfriend, and he won’t be able to hide his disapproving scowl.

for now, though, you take in the sight of one of gotham’s most feared vigilantes and the pigtailed little girl tugging at his sleeve. he bends down so she can whisper in his ear, and then turns to look at you with a grin. “I think rainbow ice cream sounds great, doll. whaddya think, ma?”

sigh…dad!jason you live in my heart 🫶

#martiniluvr’s asks #🎧 anon #jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd headcanon #dad!jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood fluff #red hood headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood x you #dc comics #batman #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine

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chukys-mouthguard · 7 months ago

Text

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

#i cannot with this man #told myself tkachuk was my one and only #but here we are #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nyr

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struwberrii · 5 months ago

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iwaizumi headcanons??? :33

iwaizumi headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

cute headcanons for the cutest hot-head :33 (mainly couple stuff)

he’s a ‘tough guy’ until your name is brought up then he’s the biggest softie ever and wants to hear all about you

when you tell him a story about, say a rude cashier, he gets mad for you

like your convo will switch from you telling him a story to you having to calm him down 😭

he’s super good at mario kart, but he’ll let you win unless you get cocky

i feel like he’d a really good cook, he also makes super good salads

(he’s randy marsh in that one gordon ramsay south park episode)

he makes you breakfast often too

i feel like he’d be half filipino or full idk

tease him!! he gets so embarrassed and flustered it’s adorable

if you go to the gym with him he will literally bench you effortlessly

his love language is def physical touch and acts of service

loves watching horror movies

posts gym tiktoks

super protective over you, like he is so safe to be around (idk how to word that sorry)

loves play fights

i think sometimes he’d pretend to ‘play fight’ with oikawa and will literally body slam him to the ground 😭

he’s always so careful with you, he always makes sure he doesn’t do anything to make you mad or upset

unintentionally a dry texter, like if your convo isn’t super deep he’ll hit you with a 👍 or an “ok”

he’s definitely a phone call kinda guy

i feel like his breath always smells so good, like he always has gum on him and has a really good tooth care routine

minty fresh breath 🤑

he’s always pushing you to do your best, like he’ll motivate you to get out of bed and go out with him

he gives me big dog vibes, like i feel like he’d have a rottweiler or something

he’s 100% a nike wearer

board game enthusiast

i feel like he’d lowkey be a nerd, he probably has like a pokémon card binder or has a dnd group

i feel like he’d HATE sleeping at other peoples houses, every sleepover is at his place

has a super high spice tolerance, he loves spicy chips and ramen but doesn’t eat it often bc he’s scared the red 40 will kill him

has a bad habit of putting other peoples happiness before his own

i feel like he’s very… okay…. at skateboarding

loves going on vacations, like he loves traveling

his entire instagram feed is just his food, his travels, his dog and you

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mikanotes · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #x reader

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 5 months ago

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Hiii I saw ur recent post and idk if this is any help but what about an Ethan Landry x Carpenter! Reader smut? So basically reader is Sam and Tara’s little sister, she’s like one year younger anyways it can be something where they all go to the same college and are in the same friend group. And the reader has always had a crush on Ethan since she got accepted in Blackmore with her sisters and her and Ethan are really close like best friends so she doesn’t wanna ruin the friendship, but at the frat party they all decided to play spin the bottle and reader gets ethan and yk they make out but then after the party Ethan starts avoiding reader cuz he’s always liked her to he js got in his feelings and thought it was awkward. But after like reader cries to Tara and Sam and stuff Tara knocks sense into Ethan and they makeup and confess and well yk what they do next lmao but this js popped in my head and ur my favorite Ethan writer so pleaseeee consider writing this tyyy🩷

Hiiiii💕 This is the first thing I've fully written in a while, so I hope you like it!!

All I Want - Ethan Landry x Fem!Carpenter!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: See ask box lmao. I probably ruined the suspense but that's okay💀

Contains: Underage drinking, Oral - f receiving, p in v (My brain is done for the day so if I'm missing anything, let me know.)

W/C: 7.7k

A/N: I'm still a little rusty, but this was the first thing I've written in forever that wasn't absolute fucking clown shoes lmaoooo. Also, if you see any spelling/grammatical errors, no you didn't 💀

When you moved in with your sisters right before you started your freshman year at Blackmore, the last person everyone expected you to get the closest to was Ethan. He wasn’t the most social, but that’s what drew you to him. He was really quiet the night you first met him, which only made you want to talk to him even more. You talked for hours, learning so much about each other as he came out of his shell, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Sam was just as protective over you as she was with Tara, and once she noticed you and Ethan were spending a lot of time together, she cornered him in the kitchen one night when he came out of your room to get a drink during one of your many study sessions.

“What’s going on with you and my sister?” Sam questioned, as Ethan’s cheeks turned bright red. He felt so awkward and uncomfortable as she stared him down. “Are you going to answer me?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just friends.”

“There better not be anything going on,” Sam warned, “And I know you stayed over in her room the other night. I’m not okay with that.”

“Nothing happened,” he said, as he glanced at the floor. “It won’t happen again.”

“I swear, Ethan, if you try anything with her,” Sam got out, before Ethan got really frustrated with the situation.

“I can’t be her friend without wanting to get in her pants?” Ethan questioned, as Sam was taken aback at his tone change. “You’ve known me for a year now, and I know you worry about her just like Tara, but do you really think I’d do that?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, as she relaxed a little, realizing she was in the wrong for questioning him like that. “She’s been hurt before, and I don’t want her to go through that again.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, but I just want to be her friend. Guys and girls are allowed to be friends without there being something else going on,” Ethan said, as she sighed and nodded. “Do you care if I study in her room with her? Or would you rather have us in the living room so you can keep an eye on us?”

“You can study in her room,” she said, as Ethan walked away from her with his drink in his hand.

Ethan wasn’t lying when he said that nothing had happened between the two of you, but he was lying when he said he just wanted to be your friend. The only person he’d mentioned his crush on you to was Chad, who immediately shut it down, knowing that Sam would have no problem killing Ethan and disposing of his body if he ever did try anything with you. Chad knew Ethan was a good guy, but with how skeptical Sam was over his relationship with Tara at first, even though they’d been friends since childhood, she knew it would take a lot longer for her to even begin to warm up to the idea of you and Ethan being together. If that wasn’t enough of a reason to keep him from saying anything to you about the way he felt, the possibility of him making things awkward and fucking up the friendship if you didn’t feel the same definitely was.

When Ethan walked back in your room, he saw you laying on your stomach, stretched out across your bed as you looked at your phone.

“I thought you got lost,” you said, looking at him before you glanced back at your screen. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy getting grilled,” he said, as he was about to sit down beside you, before he sat in your desk chair instead, just in case Sam walked in.

“Getting grilled?” you asked, as you adjusted yourself so you were sitting up. “Why?”

“Wellll,” he said, shifting awkwardly in the chair. “Pretty sure your sister thinks I’m close to you because I’m trying to sleep with you.”

“Oh my god,” you said, as you hopped off the side of your bed, ready to confront her.

“Wait,” he said, as you hesitantly came to a stop and looked at him. “I kind of got pissed and raised my voice a little. That was terrifying enough. I don’t need you snapping on her and I end up on her shit list because she scares me.”

You laughed at Ethan’s words and the nervous look on his face before you went back over to your bed and sat down.

“Why did she have to make things weird?” you questioned, as you laid back and looked at the ceiling.

“It’s okay. I told her I’m only interested in being your friend,” he said, his words like a punch to your stomach as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’d always had a little crush on him, but now you felt stupid for feeling things he didn’t. “Oh, and I don’t think I should stay over ever again. She mentioned that, too.”

“We literally fell asleep with the lights on and our laptops in front of us,” you sighed, “The only reason she’s being weird is because she saw a box of condoms when I was unpacking after I got here.”

“Oh,” Ethan mumbled, his leg bouncing as he sat in silence for a few seconds. “Should I expect a boyfriend to come visit and want to kick my ass?”

You giggled at his words as you sat back up, “No, I just didn’t want to leave them at home and have my mom go through my stuff while I’m gone. I didn’t want to have that awkward conversation with her, but I ended up having it with Sam.”

Ethan cracked a smile as you cringed the more you thought about it. “Well, at least she knows you’re being safe.”

After that day, you decided to hang out with Ethan at his apartment instead. It was a lot less awkward than dealing with Sam wanting to play the role of a helicopter parent, and because Tara was always there, you got to hang out with her more than you did before.

“What do you guys want to do tonight?” Chad asked, as the four of you sat around the living room. “There’s a party at Kappa Sigma.”

“Oooh, my first college party,” you said, getting a little excited as Tara stared you down. “What?”

“I don’t think you should go to a frat party,” she said, before Ethan spoke up.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“College guys can be really convincing,” she said, ignoring Ethan’s comment. “I just don’t want some asshole to take advantage of you.”

“I’ll just stay with Ethan all night,” you said, before you turned your head to look at him. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he said, as Tara sighed in frustration.

“I don’t think you should go,” she said, as you started to get really annoyed.

“I remember you calling me to vent when Sam was doing this same shit to you, and now you’re doing it to me,” you said, as you stood up from your spot on the couch. “I just want to have fun.”

Tara knew you were right, because she vividly remembered how pissed she got when Sam was a little extra-overbearing and wouldn’t let her do anything.

“Fine,” Tara said, taking a deep breath before she continued, “But you stay with Ethan all night, okay? And if you tell Sam, she’ll lose her shit on both of us.”

“Okay, wanna go home with me and get ready before Sam gets home from work, then?” you asked, as Tara nodded and kissed Chad before she stood up.

“We’ll met you guys there in an hour.”

You and Tara hurried to get back to the apartment and get ready before Sam got home, because even though she’d loosened the reigns on Tara, she hadn’t done the same for you. Once you were ready to go and you and Tara were about to leave, you heard the door unlock.

“Fuck,” you sighed, a defeated look on your face as Tara grabbed your hand and opened the linen closet door, before she pushed you inside. “What the fuck?”

“Shhh,” she said, as she closed the door.

You heard Sam greet Tara when she walked in, before she asked her what her plans were for the night. When she mentioned the party, she said it wasn’t set in stone that she was going, just that her and Chad had been talking about it. You rolled your eyes when Sam said you better come back home if they did go, because she didn’t want you left alone with Ethan. It was taking everything in you to not pop out of the closet and ask her what her problem was, but you decided to stay silent and listen instead.

“You know Ethan’s not a bad guy, right?” Tara questioned, “He’s not some creep.”

“I know he’s not,” Sam sighed, “I think she likes him, but after she got her heart broken last year, I don’t want her to go through that again.”

“If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me, and she tells me everything,” Tara said, as you heard the sound of Sam’s keys getting sat on the kitchen counter.

“That’s true,” Sam said, “I’m going to go shower. If you do go to that party, be safe.”

“I will,” Tara said, as you heard footsteps getting closer to the closet.

You jumped when the door was flung open, a nervous expression on your face until you realized it was Tara.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, as you giggled and made your way to the front door.

As you and Tara walked the few blocks to get to the frat house, weaving around the people that were on the sidewalk, she got a little curious as she thought about the conversation she had with Sam.

“Do you like Ethan?” she asked, once you stopped at a crosswalk.

“Of course I like him. He’s my best friend,” you said, as the two of you rushed across the street.

“You know what I mean,” she said, as you sighed.

“Not like that,” you lied, “I’m not interested in having a relationship right now.”

“That’s too bad,” she said, “Because someone told me that he likes you.”

“Really?” you asked, as Tara came to a stop once she noticed the excitement in your voice. “I mean…who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, a smirk playing on her lips as your cheeks began to heat up. “You sure you aren’t interested in him?”

“I’m not interested in anyone right now.”

When you walked into the party, you were a little nervous when you saw the sea of people. Tara asked if you wanted to get a drink, and on the way to the kitchen, you bumped into Mindy and Anika.

“Hey!” Anika said, hugging you once she saw you, before she moved over to Tara. You noticed Mindy behind her, her eyebrow cocked as she stared at you.

“Something tells me Sam has no idea you’re here,” she said, as she took a quick sip of her drink. “I didn’t believe Ethan when he said you were coming.”

The mention of his name had the butterflies in your tummy going crazy. You thought about what Tara said, you were sure that Chad was the one that told her Ethan liked you, and he never lied. Mindy noticed you glancing around the party for him before she spoke up.

“He’s in the living room,” she said, the knowing look on her face making you roll your eyes.

“I need a drink. If he’s my babysitter tonight, I want to give him a reason to keep his eye on me,” you said, before you heard Anika mumble, “Yeah, like he needs a reason.”

Once you got your drink, you and Tara found Chad and Ethan leaning against the wall, talking about a new movie they wanted to see. Ethan smiled when he saw you, giving Chad a look before he whisked your sister away, leaving you and Ethan alone.

“Hey,” he said, as he snatched your drink out of your hand. “Sam would kill me if I let you drink.”

“Ethannnn,” you whined, as you tried to take it from him, but he held it out of your reach. “Can I please have my drink?”

“Only if you promise not to drink too much. I’d be worried about you all night after you go home,” he said, as he hesitantly lowered the cup so you could grab it.

“I promise,” you said, a soft smile playing on your lips as you took a sip of it. “So…what do you want to do?”

“Well, I can’t dance,” he said, as he looked at all the people grinding on each other in the middle of the living room floor. “You might not have that much fun with me.”

“I always have fun with you,” you said, your tone flirty as Ethan smirked at you. “We could always go somewhere and talk.”

“Okay,” he said, as he pushed off the wall. He grabbed your hand as he weaved between the crowd and through the house. You eventually ended up in a random bedroom, the sounds of the music thumping very faint as you took a seat on the bed.

You were nervous as you sat with Ethan, because you were trying to find a way to bring up what you were told. You liked Ethan and you loved hanging out with him, and the more you thought about it, you thought about how perfect you could be together.

“So, someone mentioned something to me today,” you said, as Ethan curiously looked at you.

“Oh? What was it?” he asked, and just as you were about to respond, the bedroom door was flung open.

You and Ethan both had wide eyes as a few frat guys and a handful of girls walked into the room, their expressions matching yours.

“If you guys are going to fuck, you need to go to another room,” one of the guys said, as you glanced over at Ethan and giggled once you saw the pink tint to his cheeks.

“We weren’t. We were just talking,” you said, as you stood up.

“Wait, are you guys together?” the same guy asked, as he looked you up and down.

“No,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You guys want to play a game with us?”

You looked over at Ethan, silently asking him if that’s something he’d want to do before he shrugged.

“Sure,” you said, as you took another sip of your drink.

“Okay, come sit on the floor,” he said, as Ethan stood up and walked over.

You were a little confused once you noticed everyone was sitting in a circle. You and Ethan sat beside each other, waiting to hear what the plan was.

“Is this some kind of weird satanic ritual,” you joked, before the guy chuckled and grabbed an empty vodka bottle off the dresser.

“We’re going to play Spin the Bottle,” he said, as he sat down and put the bottle in the middle of the circle.

Ethan immediately got uncomfortable as he sat beside you, because he felt sick at the idea of watching someone else kiss you. You felt the same way when you noticed one of the girls looking at him, and even contemplated getting up and leaving the room.

“Is that really what we’re playing?” you asked, as a different guy spoke up.

“You don’t want to kiss a stranger?” he asked, “Because I was hoping when it was my turn, it’d land on you.”

“We’re just having fun,” the girl that was checking out Ethan said. “There are some rules, though. If a guy spins it and it lands on another guy, they get to spin again. If a girl lands on another girl, they can kiss if they want or spin again. But these losers like the girl-on-girl action a little too much.”

“Oh,” you said, “I don’t know if I want to play this.”

“Come on,” a different guy said, as you glanced over to Ethan. “You’re a freshman, right? Have a little fun.”

If you didn’t deal with enough peer pressure in high school, you realized it was just as bad in college. You took a huge gulp of your drink as the first person spun the bottle.

As the game progressed, you were a little surprised that no one had gotten you or Ethan. You were getting more and more buzzed as you sipped your drink, and once it was your turn to spin the bottle, Ethan got really nervous. He looked around the room at all the guys that were hoping it’d land on them, and he was a little irritated they were eyeing you like that.

As the glass bottle moved against the hardwood floor, you were relieved when it landed on Ethan. Relieved until you realized you actually had to kiss him. One of the guys groaned in the background as you looked at Ethan, his eyes huge as you leaned in.

“You’ve been drinking. You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” he said, soft enough for only you to hear him.

“I want to,” you whispered, before your lips touched his.

You couldn’t put into words what it felt like to kiss Ethan, but after he kissed you back and your mouths were moving together, you didn’t want it to stop. You weren’t sure if the feeling of your head spinning was from the alcohol or kissing the guy you’ve been crushing on since you first got to New York.

Just as Ethan’s tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss, the bedroom door flung open. You pulled away to see your sister and Chad’s panicked faces, the fear on Tara’s face turning to annoyance as she walked over and grabbed your hand to pull you up. You glanced around to see everyone staring at you, the awkwardness of the moment setting in before she yanked you out of the room, with Ethan following closely behind you.

“I asked you to keep an eye on her and you make out with her?” Tara asked Ethan as she shut the door. “What were you guys doing with those losers?”

“Wait, they were making out?” Mindy questioned, making her presence known as she and Anika leaned against the wall. “That’s the most action he’s gotten since he’s been here.”

If kissing you didn’t already have Ethan’s mind racing, the tension between him and Tara and the embarrassment of Mindy basically calling him an inexperienced loser was a little too much for him. He walked away and went straight to the door, leaving you to stand there, very confused. You thought Ethan was just as into it as you were, but once he walked away without saying anything, you wondered if Tara was wrong when she said he liked you.

Later that night when you got home, the party you secretly went to wasn’t a secret anymore when Sam walked into the bathroom to see you leaning over the toilet as Tara rubbed your back. She was livid, because she couldn’t forget the creep that tried to take advantage of Tara at the first college party she went to.

The next day, Sam wanted to talk to you about it, but you had no interest in having that conversation. The only thing you could think about was kissing Ethan, and how every text you’d sent to him got no response. The hangover made you feel awful, but what made you feel worse was the realization that you fucked up your friendship with the guy you’ve been spending time with almost every single day.

After a few days of you only leaving your room to go to class, Sam and Tara both came in your room to talk to you. Their faces showed how concerned they were while yours was blank, because as sad as you were, you’d already cried more tears than you thought was possible.

“What’s going on with you?” Sam asked, as you just sat there. “Can you talk to us? We’re worried about you.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you said, your voice showing how tired you were as Tara sighed.

“Did something happen at that party? Because Ethan’s acting the same way you are right now,” she said, the mention of his name making your eyes water. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, your words cracking as you spoke. “I think you were wrong about him liking me.”

“This is what I was worried about,” Sam said, as she took a seat on your bed. Her words pissed you off, because her cornering Ethan to question him and talking to Tara about it instead of just coming to you had been bothering you for days. “I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you snapped, “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking overbearing, he’d still be talking to me.”

“You’re blaming this on me?” Sam asked, the shocked expression on her face making you angrier.

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Tara said, trying to mediate the situation before it got worse. “So, you do like him?”

“Yes, I fucking like him,” you said, the tears streaming down your cheeks as she pulled you into a hug. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

You talked to Sam and Tara for a while before you cried to the point of having a headache. Once you said you were going to take a nap, Tara left the apartment to go to Chad and Ethan’s.

“Hey, babe,” Chad said, the smile on his face as he opened the door for her dropping when he realized she was mad. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Ethan?” she questioned, as Chad stepped to the side for her to walk in.

“He’s in his room.”

She stormed down the hallway and gave his door a few loud knocks before she walked in, glaring at Ethan once she saw him in front of his computer playing games.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, as Ethan’s face showed how nervous he was. “My sister just cried on my shoulder for an hour because of you!”

“She was crying?” Ethan asked, the guilt weighing heavy on him as her nostrils flared. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Then why did you?!” Tara questioned, as Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. “I thought you liked her!”

“I do!” Ethan yelled back, before he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls. “I just needed some space to think. You know how bad I feel about making out with her like that when she’d been drinking? And Mindy saying that’s the most action I’ve gotten all year? I should’ve gotten her out of that stupid room that night.”

“Ethan,” Tara sighed, as she took a seat on his bed. “She really likes you; she wouldn’t be as upset as she’s been for the last few days if she didn’t.”

“She doesn’t think I’m just some creepy loser virgin?” he asked, as Tara shook her head. “Should I call her?”

“She’s asleep right now, but I think you need to talk to her in person,” she said, as Ethan stood up. “If you hurt her again, Ethan, Sam will be the least of your worries.”

Tara stayed at the apartment with Chad while Ethan walked to your apartment. He hated that you were so upset, and he was just hoping that him ghosting you for a few days wouldn’t be enough for you to not want to give him a chance to explain himself.

When he got there and knocked on the door, he was nervous about who was going to answer, but he had to make things right. Sam opened the door, but she didn’t have her usual cold expression painted on her face, a soft smile playing on her lips as she saw how frantic Ethan looked.

“She’s still sleeping,” Sam said, as she stepped to the side. “But I need to talk to you about something before you talk to her.”

“If you’re going to yell at me, I promise Tara laid into me pretty hard just now,” he said, as Sam smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“I’ve taught her well,” she said, before she continued, “I’m sorry that I was a bitch a few weeks ago. I just worry about her, you know?” Ethan nodded in understanding, as Sam sighed. “She really cares about you, and I think you’d be great for her. I’m still mad that you upset her, but if you want to be with her, I’m okay with it. I won’t give you shit, I promise.”

“Seriously?” Ethan asked, smiling to himself as he heard your bedroom door creak open.

He snapped his head in the direction of the hallway, and once he saw how sad you looked, he started to tear up himself.

“I need to go to work,” Sam said, as she stood up from the table. “I’ll let you two talk.”

You stood at the hallway entrance as Ethan sat at the table, the two of you not looking away from each other. It wasn’t until Ethan wiped a stray tear off his cheek that you finally walked over to him.

“Hey,” you said softly, as he stood up from his chair.

“Hey,” he said, as he grabbed your hands and pulled you towards him, your head resting against his chest as he held you. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you, too,” you mumbled against him, before you pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night.”

“You didn’t,” he said, as his hand cupped your cheek.

You smiled for the first time in days as he leaned down and placed his plus lips against yours. You felt that same head spinning feeling you’d felt before, but as the kiss was getting more heated, he pulled away.

“Can we talk?” he asked, as you nodded and laced your fingers with his, before you led him to your room.

“If I didn’t make you uncomfortable the other night, why’d you stop talking to me?” you asked, as you got comfortable on your bed and Ethan sat across from you.

“I kissed you when I’ve liked you for months and never thought anything would come from it, your sister yelled at me after she saw it, then Mindy had her little comment,” he said, taking a deep breath as he looked at you. “I feel bad that I was letting that kiss go that far when you were drinking, and I know you’d probably want a guy that has experience in the bedroom. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

“I don’t care about stuff like that, Ethan,” you said, as you reached over and grabbed his hands that were rubbing against his thighs. “And I kissed you because I wanted to. Me being buzzed just took the edge off so I wasn’t as nervous.”

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” he teased, making you laugh a little.

“A while,” you said, as he smirked at you. “I didn’t know you liked me until right before that party.”

“Wait, how’d you find out?” Ethan questioned, as you looked down at his fingers playing with yours.

“Tara said someone told her; I think it was Chad,” you said, as Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I’m annoyed that he told my secret, but I’m happy he did,” he said, as you leaned closer towards him.

“Me, too.”

When Ethan closed the gap between the two of you and your lips moved with his, things felt different, but not in a bad way. You knew you both wanted to be with each other, and you could feel how happy he was to be kissing you.

As the kiss escalated to him on top of you, his tongue moving with yours as your hands tangled in his hair, his hips started to involuntarily squirm. He was about to pull away because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but once your legs wrapped around him and your own hips began to move, he groaned into the kiss.

When he pulled away to catch his breath, you started to kiss his neck all over, searching for his sweet spot. He gasped the second you found it, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed how good it felt.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he whispered, a whimper building in your throat once you felt it rub against your pussy over the leggings you were wearing. “Does that feel good?” he asked, noticing the sounds you were making as he grinded himself against you.

“Yes,” you moaned as you pulled away.

You both just looked at each other, waiting for someone to make the next move. You didn’t want Ethan to feel like it was something he had to do, while he was worried that he was pressuring you. He was about to lean down to kiss you again, but you stopped him before he could.

“No pressure, but if you want this to go further, I’m okay with it,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“I want to,” he said, before he kissed you again.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but once you gasped into the kiss as his hand rubbed your exposed side from your shirt lifting a little, he inched it further up until it landed on one of your breasts, and he felt like he could cum in his pants from the feeling once he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed, his hips rutting against you to give you both a little friction.

“Okay,” you said once you pushed him away a little to catch your breath. “I’m going to go crazy.”

“Why?” he asked, smirking at you as you sighed.

“We need to lose some clothes,” you mumbled, as you loosened the grip your legs had around his waist.

You reached over and grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you checked out his toned stomach. After his shirt was over his head, he reached over and did the same to you. The second your chest was exposed to him, he pushed you back on the bed and immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth.

You moaned at the feeling as he licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue against you, your pussy throbbing as his mouth moved. As he went to the other side, you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly inching up it.

“You can touch me,” you said, your tone sounding like you were trying to convince him. He sighed against you before his hand was in between your legs, rubbing your pussy over the soft material of your leggings.

He pulled his hand away from you as he kissed down your body, the loss of contact making you want to whine, but you held it in. You giggled as you felt his curls tickling you, but once he made it to your leggings and hooked his fingers in them to pull them down, your breathing got a lot heavier.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he asked, as he lifted his head and his eyes connected with yours.

“More than okay,” you said, as he smiled and slid them down your legs.

When Ethan first met you, he never expected to experience anything like this with you. He might’ve let his mind wander there every now and then, because there were a few instances where you’d accidentally made him hard, but this was already better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

His eyes stayed on your face as he rubbed you over your panties, a groan slipping past his lips once he felt how wet they were. Your eyes were pleading with him, and even though his nerves were kicking in again from the lack of experience, he knew he didn’t have to be nervous to do this with you.

He moved those off your hips and down your legs before he tossed them on the floor, but just as he was leaning down to get settled between your legs, he stopped to look at you.

“If something doesn’t feel good, tell me. Okay?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “Or if you need me to do something different, let me know.”

“I will,” you said, as he smiled at you.

Once his head was in between your legs, he began to slowly lick your clit with the tip of his tongue. One of your hands went to his hair, tangling in the soft brown locks as you let out the softest moans. He knew the sound meant that he wasn’t doing a horrible job, so he really started to get into it. He noticed when he used more pressure, your moans got louder, and you were struggling to keep your hips still.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said, your breathing getting heavier as the grip on his hair got a little tighter. “You want to use your fingers, too?”

“How many should I use?” he asked after he pulled away to look at you.

“Start with one,” you said, as he nodded and looked down to see what he was doing.

You were so wet, his long middle finger sliding into you with ease. He slid it in and out of you as he looked back to your face to make sure it felt good.

“Okay…do this,” you said, demonstrating how he needed to move his finger, “There’s this spot that feels really,” you got out, but before you could finish getting your sentence out, he found it. “Fuck, right there. Keep hitting that.”

He did as you said before he leaned back down and gave your clit the attention it needed with his tongue, your moans getting whinier as your legs were tingling from the pleasure you were feeling. He took your clit in his mouth to roll over it with his tongue, and as you shakily praised him, telling him how good of a job he was doing, his cock was throbbing. You felt amazing around that single finger, the thoughts of how it would feel for him to be inside of you only making him even more hard.

“Use-fuck,” you got out, your thoughts getting cloudy as you tried to tell him what you needed. “Two fingers.”

He did as you asked, his ring finger sliding into your pussy. He kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you, and as his tongue moved against you, you felt that special feeling building deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your words making Ethan chuckle because there was no way in hell he was going to.

He softly sucked on your clit, and once he did, your whines got louder and closer together, your toes curling against the sheets as he worked you towards your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, as your hips lifted off the bed, your eyebrows furrowing as you felt the white-hot feeling spread across your body.

Your pussy kept tightening around Ethan’s fingers, and he didn’t know when he was supposed to stop, so he didn’t. It only made your orgasm more intense as you tugged on his hair, the feeling making him moan against you.

Once your walls stopped fluttering and your body relaxed, he hesitantly pulled away and slid his fingers out, already missing all the sounds he was pulling from you moments before.

“Was that okay?” he asked, as you hazily looked at him.

“You’ve never done that before?” you asked, your disbelieving stare making him laugh as he shook his head.

“Never.”

“I think you’re lying because there’s no way you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had your first time doing that,” you said, a huge smile appearing on his face at your words.

“The best?” he asked, “I thought I was going to be awful at it.”

“You definitely aren’t,” you said, as you sat up to face him. “What do you want to do next?”

“You said you have condoms, right?” he asked, remembering the conversation he had with you a few weeks before.

“Yeah,” you said, as you slid off the side of the bed. You stood there for a second to get your bearings, because your legs still felt like Jell-O.

You walked over to your dresser and looked through the second drawer, searching for the box that you hid with your socks. You heard Ethan rustling around behind you, the sound of the metal on his belt clanking against the floor letting you know that he was taking his jeans off.

Just as you’d found the box, you felt his arms wrap around you. You smiled as you leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth. That’s when you felt how hard he was, and even though you hadn’t actually seen what he was hiding in the confines of his boxers, you could already tell it certainly wasn’t small.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as you ass brushed against him. “I can’t wait to do this with you.”

“Then let’s do it,” you said, the excitement in your voice making him smile as he pulled away from you. “You wanna be on top?”

“Uh…is that okay?” he asked, as you nodded and laid back on your bed and got comfortable. He slid his boxers down his legs, your eyes growing wide as you looked at him. You could tell he was a little self-conscious when his cheeks turned pink and his hand moved to cover himself.

“Why are you doing that?” you questioned, “You just saw my pussy up close.”

“You were staring at it,” he said, his voice a little shy as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, because it’s about to be inside of me,” you said, as you sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards you. You grabbed a condom out of the box and handed it to him as he crawled up on the bed. “Just…be gentle.”

“Okay,” he said, as he opened it and slowly rolled it on.

The expression on his face said he was fully confident in what he was about to do, but his shaky hands said otherwise. You knew it probably wasn’t going to last long, and that was okay. You didn’t want him to feel bad for it, so you were trying to figure out the best way to bring it up.

“Hey,” you said, as his nervous eyes met yours. “I want you to enjoy this, okay? Don’t think you have to last forever. Don’t worry about making me cum again.”

“But…isn’t that bad if I don’t make you cum?” he asked, his nerves fading a little as you smiled at him.

“You just did. I already told you that’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you said, as he lined up with your entrance. “Just take it slow at first.”

“Okay,” he said, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

He was already dizzy at the feeling of your tight, wet pussy around his cock, and he felt relieved that he didn’t feel the pressure of making you cum again, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to. He knew he’d be lucky if he didn’t bust within the first thirty seconds.

Some guys in bed were more vocal than others, and you were wondering what Ethan was going to be. Your question was soon answered when he started to move, and you heard him choking back the whimpers that were so close to pouring from his mouth.

“Don’t be quiet,” you said between your own sounds as he tried to find his rhythm, “I wanna hear you.”

He smiled at your words before his mouth fell open, finally letting you know exactly how good he was feeling. You wrapped your legs around his waist so he could go deeper, and the new angle, plus him hearing all your sounds and seeing all the faces you were making, had his orgasm quickly sneaking up on him.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered, his breathing shaky as his hips began to falter. “I’m gonna cum.”

You were watching him as that feeling washed over his body, his eyes fluttering as he whined your name. You thought it was the hottest thing ever to see him fall apart so quick, all because of how good your pussy felt for him.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna make this up to you,” he said, as he slid out and laid on the bed beside you as he caught his breath.

“Make it up to me?” you asked, as you moved so your head was resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around you as he held you close. “Don’t feel bad about not making me cum just now.”

“I wanted to, though,” he sighed, “Next time I will.”

“I think after you get used to sex, you’ll have no problem making me cum,” you said, as your fingers traced pattern on his chest. “Especially if you bend me over. Like, all fours, on the bed.”

“You want me to bend you over?” Ethan asked, as you sat up to look at him.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your bottom lip between your teeth at the idea.

Ethan felt the blood rushing straight to his cock again from you mentioning him having you in a position like that, and when you glanced down to see him already half-hard again, you giggled to yourself.

“You forgot to take the condom off,” you said, his eyes growing wide as the blush spread to his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said, as he slid off the side of your bed. “I couldn’t think straight after that.”

He took the condom off and tossed in in the wastebasket in your room before he walked back over towards you and sat on the bed.

“Uh, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to…but do you want to do it again?” he asked, as he glanced down to see that he was fully hard again. You looked at where his attention was, before his eyes connected with yours.

“Right now?” you asked, your tone playful as he smiled.

“If you want to,” he said, “I wanna know what it feels like to do it in every position.”

“How many days do you have?” you teased, as his eyes grew wide.

“Jesus Christ, how many are there?” he asked, “You know what? Let’s just focus on the basic ones for now.”

You wasted no time to toss another condom to Ethan, because even though you said it was okay for you to not cum the first time, you were craving that release. Well, that, and you loved the feeling of him inside of you.

Your pussy was still soaked as you got into the position on the bed, as he stood on his knees behind you.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

Ethan started off slow, wanting to pace himself so he wouldn’t cum as quickly as he did before. He had his hand on your hips as he got more into it, pulling them back to meet his thrusts. The position made it easy for him to hit that spot every single time, and you were letting out the softest moans.

When he sped up a little, you relaxed the upper half of your body onto the bed as your ass was stuck up in the air for him, a low groan leaving his mouth at the sight. Even though he was moving your hips, you started to throw them back, your actions giving him the motivation to go faster.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your hands clinging to your comforter as you felt that feeling start to build. Your skin was tingling, and you felt tiny little jolts of electricity running through your legs as he brought you closer to the edge.

Ethan knew he was close, but he was trying so hard to fight it off. He was thinking of some of the most depressing things to distract himself from the sounds you were making, and he knew as soon as he looked down at your back, he’d lose it.

You were trying to tell him how good everything felt, but that got a lot harder once it became difficult for you to even think of what you wanted to say. You were so close, right on the edge when you felt one of his hands that was on your hips move in between your legs, his fingers rubbing quick circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Cumming,” you whimpered against your bed. Your pussy kept clenching and releasing Ethan’s cock, a low moan flying out of his mouth at the feeling.

“Fuck, baby. Me too.”

As you and Ethan laid in your bed talking about all the dates he wanted to take you on, places he wanted to take you to see, he had a realization.

“Ya know, I never asked you to be my girlfriend,” he said, as his hands ran over your back.

“You don’t have to. I’m already yours,” you said, as you sat up to kiss him.

“I never thought this would happen,” he sighed, a smile on his face as he lazily closed his eyes.

“What?” you questioned, as he opened his eyes and sat up, too.

“All of this. I never thought we’d be anything more than friends. I never thought Sam would be okay with it. I never thought I’d lose my virginity,” he said, the last part making you laugh as you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe you didn’t lose it before because you were supposed to do it with me,” you teased, as he mimicked your eyeroll.

“I also never expected it to happen twice in one night,” he said, as he bit his bottom lip, his eyes getting darker the longer he stared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that unless you want to go for round three,” you said, before he pushed you back on the bed.

“Okay, but you’re on top this time.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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xzaddyzanakinx · 9 months ago

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.

When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.

‘Lukey, call me.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m in class.’

‘10 mins’

‘Or emergency?’

Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.

‘emergency!!’

Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.

Nothing.

You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)

That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.

I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.

You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.

‘step out. emergency!!’

‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’

Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’

Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.

Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.

‘Now!!’

The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.

‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’

Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?

‘just fucking call me.’

Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.

“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.

“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.

“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”

“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.

“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”

“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.

“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.

“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”

“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.

“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”

“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.

“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”

“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.

“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.

“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”

“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“

“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.

“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”

“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”

“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”

“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.

“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”

“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.

“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”

“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”

“What about leia’s new-“

“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.

Diary Entry: July 8th

The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.

I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.

To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.

That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.

You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.

I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.

Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?

Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?

No.

You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.

Fill me with you. All of you.

You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.

Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.

Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.

Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.

My love, everything you say is a hymn.

I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.

Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.

I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.

Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.

Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.

13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.

If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.

4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.

I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.

That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.

By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.

Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.

All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.

The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.

That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.

Just like us.

I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.

Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.

You give me purpose. You make me useful.

I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.

We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.

I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.

I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.

If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.

It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.

Diary Entry: July 12th

You’re so cute.

I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.

I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.

But I love the way you smell even more.

You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.

You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?

You won’t notice when I switch them out.

You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.

You’re welcome, and thank you.

Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.

It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.

The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.

Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.

You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.

So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.

Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.

That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?

I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.

Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.

See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.

Date:

July 12th

You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.

He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.

It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.

The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.

Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.

Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.

How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.

How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.

“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.

“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”

“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.

“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.

‘Jesus Christ.’

If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.

The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.

“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.

Truly a gentleman.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.

He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.

“You sure?” He asked.

Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.

His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.

“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”

“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.

Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.

In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.

If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.

That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.

But here he is.

In the flesh.

Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…

Anakin’s not that kinda guy.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.

“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”

“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”

“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”

“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”

“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.

“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”

“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.

“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.

“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”

“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”

“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”

“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.

“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.

Part Six

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

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monamourbladie · 1 year ago

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AHH OKAY SO.. this feels so weird typing out but IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE CAN YOU WRITE LIKE PROTECTIVE/POSSESSIVE DAN HENG IL? idk how to describe it aaa like.. id imagine because he is a vidyadhara, they stay with their lovers for life, so he's be like very protective over his lover. maybe smut but its up to you!!!!!!!

Possessive Dan Heng/IL head canons

okay firstly i wanna say i was sitting on this ask for days bc i was trying to think of a possible plot but I couldn’t:( so i’m just gonna do some head cannons, i hope you don’t mind! I’ll be including some nsfw ones at the end too don’t worry :)) and thank u for being my first request on this blog hehe~

Dan Heng:

alright, so Dan is a very reserved and kept to himself kinda guy as we can see on the Express. he doesn’t show his emotions a lot and he’s kind of hard to read

you’re one of the few people that can read him like a book due to how close you guys are and how much he trusts you. like, even MARCH couldn’t get him to open up as much as he does with you

so when he’s upset, you just know. like it’s so obvious to you and you alone lol

so let’s say you’re out in Belobog and he’s speaking with March & Stelle when some guy comes up to you and starts chatting with you

initially he wouldn’t think much of it until he starts hearing laughter from you, and then all his attention is on you and him. like, why are you laughing at his jokes? what’s he even doing talking to you??

he’d just kind of keep his distance and just watch. nobody else really understands what he’s doing, but you can immediately recognize the coldness in his eyes as he’s glaring daggers at the man.

eventually he’d have enough when he notices him starting to touch your arm and he immediately walks over, keeping a calm & collected stature

“y/n! there you are, i was wondering where you ran off to.” he’s walk up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close against him.

your cheeks would flush and you’d immediately lean into him, feeling better now that he’s here and can scare the guy off. “i was just waiting for our drinks.”

“and speaking with me. i was offering to give her a tour around Belobog, since she’s new,” the man said with a smile to her. dan’s grip would tighten around your waist and he’s grit his teeth.

your drink would be called and he’d move away for just a moment - (it helped that you were waiting by the counter, anyway) and grabbed your drinks for you, handing you one and kissing your forehead as he did so, “that’s sweet, but we already have a tour guide. let’s go.”

he’d grab your hand and fast walk you away, his heart almost aching from the exchange.

you always understood how sensitive he is about you dating him, since he’s been so heavily traumatized by his previous marriage in his past life. any scenario where you could leave him in any way terrifies him more than he wants to admit.

“was that supposed to be intimidating?” march would comment with a giggle as they walked over. dan simply sighed as he handed march her drink, “leave it, march.”

you’d look up at him with a soft smile and tilt his face to look down at you. you’d grin and kiss his lips longingly, “don’t worry, sweetheart. i was just being nice and keeping conversation.”

this eased his mind greatly - it’s not like he doesn’t trust you, he’s just extremely insecure and fearful about losing his loved ones, even to a random stranger in a planet they have no plans to stay on.

back at the hotel when you’re alone though? that’s another story. he doesn’t feel the need to keep his usual reserved facade up, and you know that.

the moment the door is shut, he’s immediately behind you, his arms trailing up yours as he peppers kisses up the back of your neck, “i hated seeing him speak with you, you know that?” he’d mutter against your skin.

you’d hum and close your eyes as you leaned into his touch, knowing this was going to be a pleasantly long night. “were you jealous, baby?” you’d playfully tease him.

he’d let out a low growl against your skin as his grip on you tightened, moving you in his arms so you’re pressing your chest against his own. he leaned down and started to kiss against your jawline up to your ear, “i don’t get jealous. i get protective.”

“you’re so jealous,” you’d giggle, moving your head so you could kiss his lips instead. he’d kiss you back harshly to immediately shut you up, beginning to walk the two of you slowly over to the bed as you’d kiss

he’d pin you down against the bed quickly, his kisses getting more feverish as his hands start exploring your body, “that’s enough out of you. you’re my girl.”

you’d squirm under his touch in enjoyment, cheeks flushing red from being called his girl. you loved when you got him to act all touchy, especially when he was riled up like this.

he would absolutely tease you all throughout the night just to get you so riled up that you’d just be panting and begging for him to finally let you have your release.

he’d click his tongue and lean in against your ear, his fingers teasing you unbearably slowly as you squirmed. he wouldn’t let you have your release until you cried out that you were his and only his, reaffirming him in the best way.

he’d lean down and kiss you heatedly as he pumped his fingers quickly to push you over the edge, “good girl, that’s right… you belong to me, no one else…”

youd cry out as he helped you through your high, “o-only yours, dan… f-fuck…”

there was literally nothing he adored more than seeing you a sobbing, moaning mess all because of him. part of you wondered if you should get him possessive more often if he would treat you so nicely afterwards…

Imbibitor Lunae:

if you thought dan heng was closed off and reserved, dan feng was another level. we all know everyone described him as cold and uncaring, but when it came to you? he was a total opposite and an absolute sweetheart.

he had his moments of being a typical brooding dragon, but the love he has for you is so immense that it outweighed every once of coldness in his heart and actions

it honestly surprised most of the quintet when he announced that you two started dating, because out of everyone they expected to actually get a girlfriend the high elder himself was last on the list — let alone a short life species such as yourself.

dan feng does not like showing any ounce of PDA in public by any means. in the public eye, he only would have his arm around you if you were walking around, or occasionally held your hand. he would never kiss you if he knew a lot of people would be seeing it

at least that’s how he acted early on in your relationship. this lead to most people thinking you were single, so it was not uncommon that you would have guys flirt with you right in front of him.

the first time dan feng noticed a drunk guy coming into you hardcore, it made his blood boil. unlike dan heng, dan feng was totally cool with showing off his angry side.

he immediately stormed right up and got between the two of you, resting his hand against your chest and glaring at the man, “i think it’s best if you leave.”

the man scoffed as he crossed his arms, “actually, it would be best if you left. i was having a great time with her.”

dan felt his blood boil and he glared at him, “that’s my fiancée, and i suggest you get away from her immediately.”

“or what?” the man spat back. “for being her fiancé, you certainly don’t act like one.” without thinking, dan shoved the man against the wall, his arm pressed firmly over his chest, “you have some nerve to speak to your High Elder in such a way. I told you — stay away from her. you should be thankful i’m not throwing you into the Shackling Prison for being an ass.”

the man’s eyes widened as he started sobering up enough to realize how badly he fucked up. he squeaked and nodded furiously, “i-i’m so sorry, your highness! it won’t happen again!”

he’d step back and let him run off quickly. turning back to you he saw your cheeks burning red with embarrassment, and his demeanor immediately changed back to stoic. he approached you and began to walk away with you, his hand wrapped around your waist, “i believe i owe you an apology. i didn’t realize i wasn’t acting as much of a fiancé as I thought i was.”

and ever since that day, he made sure he always had his arm around you in some way, and made it very, very clear that you were his fiancée.

he’d pretty much be the same as dan heng, except way more passionate and dominating about it. he’s not afraid to entirely let his guard down in private with you, especially about anything sexual, so absolutely be prepared for a long, pleasure filled night

he’d be very dominate but definitely a pleasure dom … most of the time lol, other times he’d just be absolutely rough with you if he was really, really feeling jealous or possessive

he would not be afraid to leave a lot of marks - it made him proud that others would absolutely know you’re taken just by one glance at your neck, and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. he knew he fucked up early on, and he made sure to always make up for it, especially in bed

and yes — part of the reason why he’s so protective over you is because you are a short life species. it absolutely destroys him that while you will grow old and spend the rest of your life with him, he cannot share the same blessing with you, and he absolutely hates himself for it. it’s not fair.

that’s why any time anyone tried anything with you, he’d get so angry over it because how dare they flirt with his one and only?

he also gave 0 fucks that some vidyadharans did not approve of you, in fact he loves to flaunt it in their faces now and kiss you at public events when he hears people murmur about the high elder and his “short-life woman.”

moral of the story, don’t fuck with the high elder’s woman or you’re a dead man

i hope this is what u had in mind alenfhehddhhd thank you for the request 🫶🏻

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #masterlist #dan heng #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #dan heng il x reader

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elodieunderglass · 6 months ago

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It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.

(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)

Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)

I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)

I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.

I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.

If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.

That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.

Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!

So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!

But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know

#adult Teletubbies

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inherdaze · 10 months ago

Text

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over.

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat.

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.”

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely.

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.”

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death.

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed.

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?”

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs.

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky.

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market.

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.”

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around.

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times.

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor?

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent.

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back.

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you.

He doesn't.

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there.

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind.

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived.

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived.

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you.

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens.

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think.

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions.

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides.

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup.

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter.

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well.

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already.

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things.

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.”

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second.

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder.

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you.

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward.

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven).

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.”

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.”

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home.

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold!

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you.

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants.

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.”

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic.

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.”

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him.

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too.

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine.

“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves.

“I’ve already forgiven you.”

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated.

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.”

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that).

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning.

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless.

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has.

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do).

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead.

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away.

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage.

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.”

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.”

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help.

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.”

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.”

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside.

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you.

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.”

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively.

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi.

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.”

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.”

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response.

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean.

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright.

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion.

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.”

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.”

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue.

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.”

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter.

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.”

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts.

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.”

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay.

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.”

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out.

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.”

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed.

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way.

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on.

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love.

You peer down into the pot.

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.”

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way.

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.”

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again.

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste.

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own.

Your fingers twitch.

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes.

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut.

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor.

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen.

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.”

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face.

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love.

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share.

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable.

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you.

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn.

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?”

It’s a little loose.

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching.

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure.

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you).

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one.

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space.

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand.

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door.

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him.

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs.

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers.

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.”

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you.

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay).

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.”

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush.

Finally, he fesses up.

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.”

You see Kiyoomi make a face.

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.”

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens.

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?”

The both of you choke.

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening.

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated.

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.”

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes.

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way.

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response.

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around.

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe.

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around.

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward.

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole.

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi.

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—”

“Miya.”

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.”

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush.

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you.

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side.

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.”

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly.

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left.

“Miya told me to confess to you.”

Your blood runs cold. Confess…?

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it.

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room.

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day.

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously.

“I wish you could come with me.”

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile.

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does).

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done.

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it.

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy.

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door.

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige.

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely.

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.”

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you.

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb.

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day.

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in.

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.”

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.”

Your mouth drops open.

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.”

You stay rooted still.

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.”

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together.

(He wants to).

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt.

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him.

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please.

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear.

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name.

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in.

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!”

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.”

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll.

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you.

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you.

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!”

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.”

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes.

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?”

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again.

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.”

He gives an approving cluck.

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand.

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe.

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around.

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock.

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.”

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately.

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips.

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?”

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.”

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.”

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love.

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you.

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.”

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!”

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!”

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—”

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own.

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

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