#looking back after a year I realize I forgot the o
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munsonsmixtapes ¡ 30 days ago
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What a Lovely View
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rockstar!eddie x wife!reader
summary: You and Eddie go on a Christmas vacation after weeks of not seeing each other and make up for lost time.
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex, spanking, breeding kink
You and Eddie enter the apartment where you’ll be staying for the next week for Christmas. This year, you’ve decided to have some time to yourselves since he’s been on tour and you’ve been working a lot because of the holidays.
You look around as you roll your suitcase further into the apartment and can’t help but gasp at how large and prettily decorated it is. There’s a giant Christmas tree in the living room against the giant window that looks out over the city. The tree with all the pretty lights outside behind it makes for such a picturesque view.
Eddie stands behind you, resting his hands on your waist as his chin sits atop your shoulder, a contented sigh passing through his lips as he does so. He’s missed you so much and being here with you for some much needed alone time is all he’s been thinking about for weeks.
Honestly, all he’s been thinking about is fucking you ok every single surface in the apartment and he intends to do so since you have all well. He hadn’t realized how much he needed your touch until he hugged you at the airport. Having you in his arms, holding your closing, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, he was rock hard right then and there. It took everything in him to not take you to the nearest restroom and have his way with you.
But now he can so he takes the opportunity when he sees your exposed neck. He presses his lips to it gently at first, but when he hears you hum, he goes full force, sucking on the skin, his fingers curling into your waist as your shirt bunches up, exposing some skin where eddie is quick to find purchase as you tilt your head to the side to give him more room to work.
“Eddie,” you moan. “Almost forgot how good you are with your mouth.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” he mumbles against your skin before turning you around to face him, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. His hands move up your shirt while yours fist his as his tongue explores your mouth, both of your moaning as you do so.
You’re making up for lost time as you take off each other’s clothes, the garments flying across the room as you’re both so desperate to see each other naked. It’s been months and having only the company of your hands while you video chat isn’t exactly ideal even though it often does the trick.
“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I remember, Eddie breaths, taking in your naked body as his pulls you to him. You can feel his rock hard cock against you as he kisses you again, making you feel dizzy.
“Need you inside me,” you tell him as you grab his waist, pushing his cock against you even more. Eddie presses his lips to yours as he backs you up to the window and pounds into you as he grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, thrusting in and out of you as you buck your hips against his.
The window is nothing but cold against your back, but you actually think it feels kind of nice since you’ve gotten so hot with Eddie’s body against yours. His fingers are digging into your waist and even though it hurts like hell, you don’t dare stop him. It feels too good.
“That’s it, baby,” he says. “Just like that. See? After a few months, we’ve still got it. God, you feel so good. Kept it loose for me, huh? So I was able to slide right in? How thoughtful of you.”
“You’ve helped me get off every single night we’ve been apart. You should have known it’d be like this.” He rams into you so hard that you hit the window again, your head also hitting the window. But you couldn’t care less. All you want is for him to do this until you feel like absolute jelly in his arms.
“I should have,” he rasps. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?”
“Always,” you reply as your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your cunt clenching around his cock as he holds it there, all of him inside you as he’s finally gotten the last bit in.
“God, wanna fill you up so good, baby. Wanna make you a mother.” This doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You and Eddie have spoken multiple times about how you want to have children and you can’t think of a better time to actually have your first.
“Then make me a mother,” you tell him and he goes even harder, his thrusts more frequent and hard, eliciting moan after moan from you.
“So fucking pretty,” Eddie says as his lips find yours, pushing you even more against the glass as he turns his head to the side. You orgasm into his mouth as his tongue finds its way into your own mouth, swirling around yours and his hands find their way to your ass, digging into the skin and you really hope he leaves marks. “You’re gonna be so hot with your stomach getting bigger. God, I’m getting hard just thinking about it sweetheart.”
He pulls you away from the window and brings you over to the couch where he lies, you collapsing on top of him with a gasp. You’re flat on top of him and his hands find their way to your ass, digging his nails into your cheeks as his lips find yours again before giving it a hard slap.
You gasp into his mouth and he can’t help but grin as he does it again, harder this time before massaging it to soothe the pain. You want him to do more, but know that he never wants to actually hurt you so you straddle his waist and begin to ride him as a thank him for fucking your brains out only moments earlier.
“Gonna make such a good mom, swear to god,” he breathes. “I’m gonna be a good dad, right?”
“Of course you are, Ed,” you tell him as your hips roll against his. “You’re gonna be a great dad. Amazing, even.”
“Always say everything I want to hear, don’t you sweetheart?” He winks as hips buck against yours and his fingers dig further into your ass cheeks with so much force that you swear you’re going to bleed. But that’s the least of your worries. Eddie already looks fucked out and you smile to yourself with pride at your boyfriend who’s eyes are definitely rolling into the back of his head and you’ve barely even done anything.
You hold onto his shoulders as you pick up the pace, waiting to get to what you were doing before, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you feel. He continues to buck his hips against yours and maybe it’s because you haven’t done this in weeks or maybe it’s all the traveling you’ve done all day, but you feel like the both of you don’t have the energy or stamina that you used to.
“Fuck fuck fuck, baby,” he moans as he reaches his orgasm and bucks his hip against yours one last time before his back hits the couch. You lie on top of him, the two of you out of breath and he doesn’t bother pulling out as he wants to be as close to you as possible.
He flips you over and pulls out, lowering himself down to your stomach, peppering it with kisses, telling you how much he loves you and that even though he just came inside of you, that he doesn’t care if you wind up pregnant or not. He’s still going to love you for the rest of his life. And you feel the exact same way about him.
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jiminrings ¡ 5 months ago
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four seven eight, phase 3 (2)
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 9k
glimpse: you’re pushed to the edge after eunsu’s stunt, and it makes jungkook realize that he’s no longer secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad.
alternatively, jungkook goes back to square one with you, but especially with hwayoung.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]
[ angst, fluff, the double-edged desire of wanting more n Being More despite having almost everything, hwayoung being the universe, mentions of eunsu breaking in into jk's hotel room, jus eunsu being a weirdo in general, 478 couple goes old school YIPPEEEE, yoongi as his own warning, eventual redemption ]
notes: heh... i did say it wud get a little worse before everything gets better!!! :O
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
Hwayoung keeps staring at Jungkook’s empty spot on the dining table.
“Where’s appa?” 
She looks like a spitting image of Jungkook with the way her brows are furrowed and her bottom lip pouted, clearly confused to why her carbon copy still isn’t here. Hwayoung’s heard your explanation a dozen of times already, yet she asks you again — not because she forgot already, but because she’s in disbelief.
“He’s working, Young-ie,” you smile tightly, cutting up her pancakes once again to redirect her into eating instead of asking where Jungkook is. She eats, even if you don’t slice the pancakes the way Jungkook does (he cuts them up to look like a window with four, almost-perfectly divided slices) and in the same breath, you try not to pull out your phone to ask if he’s already had dinner.
Loving Hwayoung is extremely easy, even if you get choked up from time to time trying to internalize the fact that she’s yours and Jungkook’s. There’s a continuous beep in your chest that rivals the volume of what pedestrian crossings sound like when they turn green; it’s been ringing ever since you found out you were pregnant with Hwayoung and came to the realization that you owe everything (if the world happens to not be enough) to her.
Hwayoung may be a curious, bubbly child, but the extent of her questioning only stops when you tell her that Jungkook’s working. She doesn’t prod any further than that, settling for a generic answer you’d expand on if only you could find the heart to. 
Hwayoung doesn’t ask why you hold her a lot more closely than you’d usually do when you’re asleep or why her oversized sleep shirts lately belong to you and not Jungkook, not because she doesn’t care about the sudden absence of her dad, but because the abundance of you almost makes her forget about her new routine.
Almost.
She goes down from her seat (just like how Jungkook taught her with both hands and extreme care) wordlessly, strolling off with a determined gait, only to return with your cat in her arms like it’s a normal occurrence at seven in the morning.
“What are you doing with Miso, Young-ie?” you question playfully, getting your answer soon enough when she carries Miso up to where Jungkook’s plate would be.
Your daughter seems pleased about the situation altogether, nevermind the fact that the too-chunky-for-her-age cat she’s been spoiling with treats is at the head of the table instead of Jungkook.
Hwayoung’s young. She’s young enough to the point that you can withhold entire truths from her without having to clarify your words. Even more, she’s young to the point that you can’t even tell if she’ll remember this point in her childhood for the years to come.
You can’t tell if Hwayoung will even remember the chunk of time wherein Jungkook’s nowhere to be found and she’s upset about it, nor if she’ll even recall in the future about the way you’re looking at her with so much fondness and desperation at this exact moment — but nevertheless, you want Hwayoung to be young in the same way you want to be honest.
Neither you and Jungkook can withhold anything from her if it means making her happy; even if it means she won’t do something as futile as making a cat a placeholder for her dad.
“Do you miss him, baby?” you hum, feeling for your phone in your pocket as you rub the ridges of its case over and over again while deep in thought. You can’t even tell why you asked that because you know the answer already, regardless of your daughter beaming and nodding her head fervently.
“Do you wanna go on a trip?” you whisper to her ear as if it’s a secret, immediately getting her giddy. You comb through her hair with your fingers as she basically bounces on her seat, already clapping her hands because she knows the word and everything fun that it entailed. “Let’s surprise your appa, hm?”
It’ll just be a last-minute airline ticket purchase, which would happen to be Hwayoung’s first-ever plane ride that Jungkook won’t be there to see because the whole trip’s purpose is to get to him. It’ll just be a rest day or two that you have to coordinate and apologize for over and over again for the potential inconveniences you’ll create. It’ll just be a blip in Hwayoung’s memory soon enough, one you’re uncertain if she’ll even remember, but you figure that it’ll be worth it.
It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you think as you cram yours and Hwayoung’s belongings into a single backpack with no other luggage in tow.
It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you rethink while contemplating about how it’s rare for you to be impulsive, but at your fate, with respect to Jungkook, you completely surrender.
It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you mutter under your breath as you hastily plan with Jimin on the phone about your temporary quick leave, if he can look after Miso, and how to get to the airport without being noticed and most importantly, without Hwayoung being pictured at all.
Your daughter doesn’t know any better about how you and Jungkook go to extreme lengths to protect her, or how the straps of your backpack are digging into your shoulders, or how you’re nervous because it’s her first plane ride and you don’t know how she’ll take it, or how you’re ready to bolt immediately with her in your arms because she’s only yours and Jungkook’s and no one else’s.
You’re not the world-famous and critically acclaimed actress in this long-haul flight; you’re a mom to Hwayoung trying to get her to yawn repeatedly so her ears wouldn’t get clogged, you’re a mom hanging her head down in apology when it’s the fourth flight attendant to approach you asking for a picture, and you’re a mom who just happens to be extremely desperate and humble to beg said flight attendants to help you deplane first so nobody else would look at your or your daughter.
For a split second, or even for as long as you hold Hwayoung and beyond that, you forget the trophies and plaques attached to your name.
You no longer want to be the best when in your arms, Hwayoung’s jet-lagged and fighting through said fatigue, because you’ve convinced not only her but yourself, that it’ll all be worth it because it’s Jungkook.
( ♡ ) 
Hwayoung sleeps in your arms the whole time.
You figure that she’s out cold because you’re wearing Jungkook’s hoodie, knowing better than anyone about how your baby gets completely placated whenever she’s held. It’s heartwarming to see her this way even in such odd circumstances, the fist that’s curled up on your shirt reminding you when things used to be a little more simple.
The stress that’s been accumulating inside your temples threaten to burst and you fear that you’ll be set off by the most miniscule thing while you’re on your way to Jungkook. You’re sleepless and you’re bubbling inside with annoyance and it takes an absurd amount of energy from you to try and contain yourself.
Coordinating with Jimin through the phone makes your nostils flare, even if he’s trying his best to be helpful. Seeing people on the street in large groups, without even knowing the reason why, makes your jaw clench. Even the driver who keeps looking at you on the rearview mirror in concern makes you want to rip your hair out.
You’re frustrated and angry, even if you try convince yourself that Jungkook is worth all the fuss.
“Young-ie,” you whisper, shaking her awake gently. Your free hand’s already gripping your backpack even if you’re still minutes away; if only you had the remaining patience (maybe even optimism) to look at yourself, you’ll see the irony of you being the equivalent of overeager dads you hate on airplanes that immediately stand upon landing, even when the connecting tube to the terminal hasn’t been attached yet. “Wake up, baby. We’re getting closer.”
Everything feels a little heavy. The weight of your backpack is not the problem, and neither is Hwayoung who’s glued to you by the hip.
You have the terrifying idea in the back of your head, locked and loaded for anyone (read: Jungkook) to see if they take the additional second to ask you, that you’ll have to suffer all over again; that you’ll have to establish an ultimatum with a time limit of sorts, just so you can nullify the vacancy in you by pushing Jungkook away again.
Even now, a part of you wonders about Sora. 
She’s no longer a part of your husband’s life, for good this time, yet she occupies your mind every once in a while as if she’s a bad meal on a bad day you have to stomach over and over again. You want to vomit her out completely and rid yourself of the taste of being inferior to who came before you, and yet, she lingers like a stray who knows its home.
You wonder if she’s happy with her life and how it turned out, even if Jungkook’s no longer in it despite being each other’s first for everything. You wonder if she ever thinks about Jungkook whenever it’s April 23 or when she walks past tent bars; if she’s ever married now and has a family like you and her first love do.
You wonder about Sora from time to time because if Jungkook really loved her, you fear that a little bit of it would always linger.
In the same way that you had really loved a multitude of things growing up, little bits of them would always linger even if you’ve sworn off them. 
Your old obsession with tiny bottles of perfume you could only buy from boutiques (and never from malls) resurfaces whenever you visit your parents and magically, they always have a box filled up with your childhood shirts they’ve spared for Hwayoung to wear, imbued with a scent you can place to a memory, but not replicate.
The old fixation you had on patchwork blankets lingers whenever you head to the stockroom to store a PR package you could justify keeping for future purposes, only to see the unopened stacks of shirts you’ve gotten from numerous workshops, countries, and tapings as mementos throughout the years. They sit there in the dust, waiting patiently for you to take notice, but you avert your eyes as to not start a project you can’t bring yourself to finish.
The old liking you had towards the color orange stains on your fingers whenever you peel tangerines for Hwayoung, training a keen eye on her as she holds it for herself while slicing the portions you have at hand for her to eat safely. 
You wonder about Sora and if she ever holds the regret of letting go of Jungkook for someone like you.
You wonder if Jungkook’s love for her, although dissolved and voided already, lingers through the existence of Eunsu — someone who’s much, much different than you, just like Sora was.
Love is not supposed to feel heavy and you stand by it, because holding Hwayoung while carrying the backpack that’s meant to sustain the both of you in a foreign country, just because you don’t want any excess baggage as you surprise Jungkook out of nowhere, has never felt lighter in your heart.
Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you wonder why the door to Jungkook’s hotel room is open by itself without needing a key.
Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you meet several pairs of eyes that either locks or avoids your own, all for a multitude of reasons. 
“Jungkook,” you whisper, pupils shaking as you instinctively turn Hwayoung’s head away from the sight before you. “What’s going on?”
Your husband, who’s evidently rattled for more reasons than one and is dressed in his pajamas, stares at you head-on with his bottom lip trembling.
His staff members, some of which you recognize, avoid your gaze whilst one of them continues talking on the phone with an apologetic bow.
The members of hotel security, both of which are a little lost in what’s happening because they’ve only been suddenly called to the room of a husband to a celebrity they didn’t catch the name of in a hurry, gasp in realization when they recognize you instantly.
Eunsu, who’s clad in only a silky nightgown that leaves almost nothing to the imagination as she’s restrained to a chair by hotel security, scoffs at your presence.
.
.
.
“It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” Jungkook repeatedly mumbles to you, even if he only catches a shadow of you lingering somewhere as you bounce in between places trying to sort everything out.
“I-I didn’t do anything. We didn’t do anything. I never wanted things to go like this in the first place,” he says to you over and over again, even if you’re on the phone with Jimin to get ahead of damage control if the news ever breaks out.
“I’d never.. I-I’d never cheat on you, Y/N. I’ll never hurt you,” your husband whispers to you like a broken record, running his thumb over your knuckles to try and get you to calm down as if you’ve lost your cool for the past two hours.
The whole thing’s been foiled.
Neither you, Jungkook, or even the staff can even think about the short film’s immediate downfall without it even being released yet because from the get-go, it had already been a raging wildfire with Eunsu in it.
There’s no talk about the film. 
There’s no talk about the hours, efforts, and even money wasted on it because all that you could think about— all that everyone who knew of the situation just now could think about, is how Eunsu broke into Jungkook’s hotel room to seduce him.
There's no talk about the unspoken rule in between the staff to tiptoe around their executive producer’s wife, and most especially his daughter. It’s no secret that the two of you dropped in unannounced (they recall Jungkook being miserable so they knew there was no way he could predict his family was about to surprise him), and yet with the way they give you space and nothing but humility, you’d mistaken them for devoted fans.
There’s only hushed, cordial conversations between everyone to keeps things up to date and under wraps. There’s only gratitude, pity, and assurance thrown your way about how they never liked Eunsu in the first place and how you were such a good, filial wife and mother to clean up the mess attached to Jungkook’s name whilst keeping Hwayoung close to you the entire time.
“She’s detained by the police now. I’ve already called up lawyers back at home. We’re pressing charges,” you say, finally standing in one place. “I have Jimin drafting everything in place in case word gets out.
You’ve been going back and forth trying to sort everything and everyone from the police, to the hotel security, and even Jungkook’s staff — even if you’ve already vacated Jungkook’s room for the three of you to be transferred to a different room in a different hotel entirely, not once have you set Hwayoung down.
You haven’t even let him hold her once since landing here.
Jungkook’s shaking in anger, or atleast whatever it is that drowns him whole even if his head is only submerged in between his knees as he tries to breathe. He’s spoken perfectly and concisely when he was asked for his statement. He’s spoken without a hitch when asked for his honesty, and he hasn’t even faltered once when he asked for the footage of Eunsu seducing a receptionist to break into his room to support his rock-solid testimony.
Jungkook even cussed Eunsu without stuttering as she basically confesses her crime (while cursing you, who didn’t want to look at her, in the process) whilst being dragged away by the cops.
Ironically, the only people who had everything going on for him whom he momentarily tried to distance himself from, are the first people to his rescue. The bed in the new room is more than massive, yet you don’t even lay Hwayoung on it; she’s still in your arms that are screaming to give out, and the backpack you’ve packed for the both of you is yet to be opened, sitting on the opposite side of the room to Jungkook’s massive luggage.
Everything has failed and collapsed around Jungkook, yet it’s you who cleans up after him.
.
.
.
You only let Hwayoung sleep on the bed once you needed to book separate flight tickets.
“It’s not a problem for me. We’ll be less recognizable together,” Jungkook answers quickly when you question him if he could take Hwayoung back while you get on a later flight.
He’s snappy this way, trying to ignore the raging pounding on his head that you’re upset with him; that perhaps not only were you disgusted with him, but you were also exhausted of him entirely.
There’s a massive knot in Jungkook’s throat that doesn’t want to untangle in the slightest. He feels like he’s about to choke on nothing because he rethinks that he has no right to feel tired; that he has no right to close his eyes for even a second because you haven’t slept for a day and even longer, and that he has no right to feel this low when he’s dragged you down even lower.
You only nod quietly at his answer, clicking on your phone without meeting his eyes as you blow money on last-minute flights without even flinching.
“You okay?” 
You ask softly, the bags under your eyes more evident under the warm lighting. You’re sitting on a chair at the corner of the room like you’re a complete stranger while Jungkook’s sitting on the edge of the bed like he’s only a familiar guest. 
It’s only Hwayoung in this room who’s acting as if she belongs here. 
Right now, it’s only your daughter serving as the common denominator that you have with Jungkook — with her asleep, your husband can’t even tell if he’s on the same ground with you. 
“Did she touch you anywhere?” you add, slouching on your knees. You’ve never laid back since you’ve gotten here, the fear that something bad would happen to you or anyone in your family if you took your eye off the ball for the slightest second overtaking you.
Even after you’ve cleaned up Jungkook’s mess, it’s you who tries to reach out; it’s you who tries to keep everything and everyone together, even if it’s by the thinnest thread that incessantly digs into the palm of your hands, even tighter than how your wedding ring could.
“No, no. She didn’t even get close. I just… I immediately yelled so the staff nearby heard,” Jungkook answers truthfully, shaking his head slowly in the process.
You say that it’s a relief nothing else happened, and reiterate that you and Jimin have all exits covered.
You say that you’re sorry that it happened to him, and reiterate that you’re pressing charges.
You say that you’re there in case he wants to talk about it more, and reiterate that he has to wake up early so he and Hwayoung could go on the first flight back home.
Jungkook feels extraordinarily guilty. He feels so much regret in his stomach that he wants to throw up because your contained frustration for him is unbearable to the point that it brings him to tears.
"Give it to me," he inhales sharply, shoulders trembling as he buries his face in his hands. "Just give it to me."
“What are you talking about?”
"Why won't you yell at me?!” Jungkook sobs painfully, his own hand slapping down on his mouth as he tries to keep his volume down so Hwayoung could keep sleeping. He feels as if he’s tethering over the edge the longer that you look at him stoically, his fingernails digging to his palms roughly to the point that he draws blood. ”Why won't you tell me I told you so? Why can't you tell me that I had it coming?"
Everything and everyone except you is falling apart around Jungkook, and it brings him to his knees.
“Do you want me to punish you? Is that it?” you ask, clenching your jaw until it aches. 
Jungkook looks miserable this way. He looks like a devastated sinner awaiting judgement from a god whom he once lost his faith to. He looks like your husband begging, not for forgiveness, but for something more painful for as long as you feel compensated for what he’s caused you.
“You want me where to hit you where it hurts, Jungkook?” you laugh dryly, making him raise his head up as he nods slowly yet definitively, the tears on his face not close to stopping.
You say nothing while Jungkook expects everything, your husband unable to decode what you say under your breath as you turn your back on him to go shower.
You get out of the bathroom eventually, finally seeing that he doesn’t have his forehead touching the carpet.
Instead, Jungkook’s passed out from crying and has himself curled up into a little ball on the same chair you’ve sat on just awhile ago, with your clean change of clothes pressed on the bed right next to your daughter.
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook looks for you in everybody but he finds you in no one.
He woke up far earlier than his alarm (not that he had been in a deep slumber anyway) and the perpetual ache all over his body reminds him of that, his eyes glazing over you as if it’s the last he’ll see of you for decades.
Hwayoung stirs awake at the same time that he does, and for a moment, Jungkook thinks that everything’s okay.
For a split second, he mistakes today as one of your workdays wherein he wakes up early to prepare you your breakfast and it just happens that Hwayoung wanted to be a joey to a first-time kangaroo mother. He mistakes your little family in this hotel room to be a perfect one, wherein his only biggest hurdle in life is to keep his daughter inside his do-it-yourself sling while trying not to overcook your fried rice.
Apparently, Jungkook mistakes everything and everyone to be in favor of you, of him, to the point that he had deliberately ignored your plea to work with Eunsu all this time ago, and that decision of his has majorly, if not completely, undone everything you tried to work on for your family.
He tries to find you in the elderly lady who looks at him in pity as Hwayoung cries while they’re in first class seats, the shallow breaths he tries to ground himself to (so he wouldn’t panic and text you in fear of bothering you) doing nothing in the long run.
Your husband tries to find you in the foreign flight attendant who despite not knowing him or whom he’s married to, offers to hold Hwayoung as she explained that she’s a mother and also has a toddler at home.
Jungkook tries to find you in the remnants of your perfume on his daughter’s shirt. Hwayoung’s already stopped crying after some time of being cradled by the flight attendant, and the sight of his daughter calming down because of a stranger (who is obviously better than him) makes him want to be ground to a fine powder for everyone to walk over.
He feels ashamed in a way that he can’t even put into words. Jungkook feels far too inadequate, far too undeserving, and far, far pathetic that he fears not even his constant apologies to you would ever be enough.
Jungkook feels ashamed even when you take the last flight home and you go through the door like nothing’s wrong between the two of you, simply because Hwayoung’s watching. He feels like a dog fetching you your house slippers automatically but he wants to be reduced to something more filial; something a little more loyal to the point that it’s pathetic.
Your husband is ashamed even when you’re not awake and he can’t see your eyes avoiding his whenever your daughter’s not around.
Jungkook holds you tighter in his sleep, going so far as to kneel by the side of your bed instead of reaching across you, so Hwayoung wouldn't be caught in the middle — even if she’s already been since the start.
( ♡ ) 
Outside of you and Jungkook, only Jimin and Yoongi know about what happened.
You have your pride holding you back from telling your parents because in the back of your mind, there still lies the instinct of wanting to protect Jungkook, your own family, from the family that raised you.
You have no one to confide to except for your manager, who’s technically obligated to know what’s been going on with you when you suddenly call him up to tell that you’re surprising Jungkook in the US, only for your next call to consist of you asking for his help in a terse manner– and your best friend, who’s the first person Jimin calls whenever you’re in need of serious assistance.
There’s been no headlines of Eunsu breaking in and entering Jungkook’s hotel room, along with the follow-up details of how you and your daughter (whose existence is known but her privacy maintained to the highest level you can maintain) arrived as a surprise, only to be confounded by the very scene of your rival in a nightgown, held back by guards.
You know it’s going to come eventually.
You know the telltale dread that fills you up when something far bigger and beyond you is on its path to overtake you. The articles, the scrutiny, and the discourses haven’t even entered the stage yet you already feel sick because this time, it’s not only your name that’s going to be dragged into a situation you never thought would happen.
It’s also your daughter’s.
“We need to talk about Hwayoung,” you approach Jungkook as soon as you come home after your overtime, stilling in your tracks when you see Hwayoung sleeping in her pen.
Jungkook’s eyes linger on her before looking at you properly this time, the knot on his throat loosening at the prospect of what’s been bothering his mind repeatedly, but with the promise of a solution that he hasn’t arrived at, yet is bound to hurt him nonetheless.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
You sit on the far end of the baby blue floor couch as if you and Jungkook don’t share a home together.
“We look okay to her now but still,” you pause, looking down on your feet that are bruising from the heels you’ve been filming with all day and night. “I don’t want to put her in the middle of… everything that thisis.”
Jungkook nods, not only because he understands, but because he’s aware of everything, all the way from the guilt of being a husband to the guilt of being a dad. 
“She’s bound to ask questions too, and even if she’s not asking them now, I feel bad having to keep her in the dark.”
“She’s still young, Jungkook. I never thought I’d say this, but I mean,” you sigh, shrugging defeatedly as you try to look for the right words. “If we keep including her in situations that she shouldn’t be a part of, we’re only bringing her closer to harm. For all we know, someone somewhere has a picture of her during the trip.”
“I-I tried my best. I moved as fast as I-…”
“I know. I also tried my best when we took the trip to you,” you exhale heavily, trying to wrap your head around the complexity of the past week alone; you can’t even understand why you pushed yourself to go back to work immediately after going back home. “I’m not saying that Hwayoung’s known already. I’m just considering the possibility because we could never be too sure.”
Jungkook knows you’re trying to get rid of the guilt that forms in him for that matter, but for everything else, he knows better than to assume of you.
“Do you…” he swallows. “Do you also think that Hwayoung needs a breather from us? Not the other way around, of course, but you know-…”
“I know what you mean,” you nod your head, the guilt of being a mom to a Hwayoung coming easily these days. “It’ll be good for her to be around other people. To be away from what we have going on.”
You and Jungkook share a guilt that’s only unique to having Hwayoung under your circumstances, and it’s a burden you want to get rid of without ever hurting her in the process.
“We can’t have my parents babysit. They read me easily and I don’t want them to know,” you confide, making your husband hang his head in shame even if it wasn’t your intention.
“My parents can’t either. They went on a cruise.”
“I don’t trust nannies,” you add, making Jungkook nod deliberately.
“Who can we trust then?” he sighs, rubbing his hand all over his face as he tries to scour his brain for people. “Who do we have in our lives that Hwayoung trusts too?”
Your head tilts after a few seconds in realization, and Jungkook’s mind drifts to his daughter’s godfather whether he likes it or not.
You and your husband have the same idea in mind, with one being less fond of it than the other.
“I’ll call Yoongi.”
( ♡ ) 
“I want to be your personal assistant.”
Jungkook says in one breath, right in the middle of making your lunchbox. 
You woke up early in the first place because you neither thought nor expected for him to do it for you, but with the way he’s nearly done and making more than necessary, you’re clearly due to be corrected.
Without Hwayoung to tend to, Jungkook itches to have a purpose. He wants to be needed even if he isn’t and the thought always springs up on him whenever his girls are by themselves. The use of him, although not always necessary, is what keeps Jungkook up on his feet these days, nevermind the excruciating guilt and desperation of wanting to make it up to you.
He almost always came to accompany you to your shootings before Hwayoung came around and he’s reminded of it as he packages your meal, his shaking pupils meeting your own that are only begging for any sort of explanation.
It’s not that you don’t want Jungkook to try — it just happens that it’s been awhile since it was only, truly the two of you.
“Why?"
“Because I want to,” he merely shrugs, and when he steps out of the kitchen, you only keep your frown to yourself as you realize that he’s already dressed for the day.
Jungkook doesn’t invade your space like he usually does but he sits close enough to you on the drive to your shooting location; enough for you to feel the warmth that radiates from him without being overwhelmed.
It’s been more than a long time since this happened that you’ve practically forgotten what it felt going to work with Jungkook.
You forgot how your husband steps out of the car first to hold all of your things in one hand with the other reaching out to help you down. 
You forgot how he has a natural scowl on his face and how despite your staff knowing that you’re already married (and to him specifically), they can’t believe the sight of the two of you together.
You forgot how Jungkook likes to hang around you as if he’s a dog with only one owner in any place he can call home as long as he’s with you, that you forget to tell Jimin that you haven’t told your husband about the upcoming press conference at all.
Without even trying, Jungkook overhears Jimin (who’s giving him the cold shoulder) going through your schedule for the next two weeks, his jaw grinding at the particular event that he already knows is important without any explanation—
Without any heads-up from you at all, it seems like.
Jimin’s already left your trailer several minutes ago but Jungkook’s eyes are still fixated on the chair he sat on, his eyes looking past the flooring and deeper into the ground that he wants to be one with out of disbelief– out of shame, even.
You always told him about your schedule and you didn’t leave anything out — it’s only now when it dawns on him that you haven’t been telling him about your work at all.
“Do you not want me there?” he asks, his voice thick with confusion. “Are you embarrassed of me or something?”
“It’s not like that, Jungkook.”
“Then make me understand,” he pleads with the hint of despair, the disbelief that coats his tone all throughout being entirely transparent.
You didn’t plan on how to break the news to him. You didn’t plan on letting Jungkook know about the media event at all.
There’s no other response that springs up to your throat except for the one that only exists since he’s had that drunken fight with you. 
“Because I don’t want you to ruin it again for me, okay?” you lick your lips, going more and more breathless the more that Jungkook mirrors how you looked back then when you begged him all those years ago. “Because the last time that I had a big press conference like this, you ruined it for me too.” 
The thought of Sora, and then Eunsu, and then Jungkook himself come hand in hand, and you wonder when will you stop suffering from the though process that haunts you whenever you’re reminded of press conferences — of your entire work in general.
“I don’t want to be reminded that you hate the life I gave you.”
Jungkook feels the urge to tuck his head in between his knees again, but he doesn’t want to run away this time.
“I said I’m sorry,” he surrenders as he lacks the words he had been telling you in numerous variations for the past days and weeks.
He didn’t think it had hurt this bad the last time around.
"And I only forgave you because it seemed right at the time," you clench your jaw, your exhale being more shaky than you expected. “I only forgave you because I had Hwayoung in my mind."
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook’s getting back into the groove of being by your side at work.
You’re still not fully adjusted to the sight of Jungkook during tapings, all while he moves about like it’s always been in his nature to assist you. He’s overeager in a lot of things, so much so that his presence practically attracts more attention than you do on set. 
It was just yesterday when Jungkook hollered and clapped his hands loudly after you say a long, emotional line before the director said cut and before your co-star could even say her line next, which led to you having to re-do the scene.
It was just two days before when he audibly groaned when an extra had to whistle at you for a scene and literally walked right into the set with his fists clenched, forgetting entirely that you were filming and that a random guy just didn’t catcall his wife in front of him.
It was just two minutes ago, when you ban Jungkook completely from watching you act.
“I’ll do it,” he perks up at the stylist as if he hadn’t been sulking to you just two minutes ago, his hands already fixing themselves on your arms to get you to stand up.
“Jungkook-…”
“But Mr. Jeon-“ she squeaks, about to say her thrice-rehearsed piece of doing her job (everyone on set has been warned about your husband making them jobless) when Jungkook basically carries you to your dressing room.
“No, no, I said I’ll do it!” he practically squeaks, setting you down wordlessly with a giddy smile on his face.
Jungkook’s too good at getting back into the groove of being by your side, you almost forget that the two of you aren’t entirely okay.
He gets you into your gown with utmost care (albeit a little confusion along the way), his hands caressing you with the familiarity that only he carries. Jungkook carries a weight with him that settles when he touches you in any which way, the weariness of his fingers dispersing as soon as you give him the slightest attention.
He may have looked stupid pretending he didn’t know how corsets worked or how petticoats are worn first before the actual gown, but his denseness had atleast bought a little more time from you.
A little more warmth.
Jungkook looks at you intimately, not in the way that’s begging for you to want to jump his bones, but in the way that he knows who you hated throughout the workday while having his warm hands work on your calves.
He knows every inch of you, which may be the reason his hands feel warmer on you than you recall, all the way to the tips of your toes that feel trapped all of a sudden.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I think they’re gonna swap out my shoes anyway because they won’t be seen,” you murmur, trying to avoid the heels and the pain they bring but not until he hushes you.
“I’m not putting on your heels. I’m putting on your socks.”
“I don’t need socks.”
“Your cold dogs keep rubbing up on my legs at night whenever you forget to put them on,” he snickers out of nowhere and it brings out a sudden snort from you, the brief and unorthodox moment hanging over you whilst the two of you gloss over the fact that not only have you not been intimate for so long, but you’ve also not cuddled despite sleeping in the same bed.
Jungkook walks you to your set with his hands raised in surrender, already murmuring to your worried director that he’ll stay out this time as soon as he finishes taking you.
“Wait,” he squeaks before turning back to you, making everyone else hold their breaths to see if they could retain their jobs today. Jungkook carefully removes your wedding ring that you forgot to stash, wearing it snugly on his pinky instead. “Just for safekeeping.”
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook’s not fond of the rain.
He’s not fond of it especially when your job requires you to stand under it.
“Your hazard pay should be ginormous for the work they’re making you go through,” he mutters, holding up an umbrella for you as some stylists make quick work of already pre-soaking you before the scene starts.
“It’s just a little rain,” you roll your eyes, about to shove your hands in your pockets because it’s getting a little cold already yet Jungkook notices before you even could, holding both of them with just one massive hand as he leans the umbrella more to your side.
“They should cancel the filming today. It’s pouring,” he continues like he’s never heard you, even if the rain isn’t terrifyingly bad. The weather’s only fitting because the scene calls for it, but even so, Jungkook feels hesitant.
He lets go of your hands for a brief second to retrieve the handkerchief that’s tucked to the waistband of his pants, already unraveling it for you in waiting.
“Blow.”
“What?” you narrow your eyes at him, looking down on the fabric until it finally hits you in realization.
“Blow your nose,” he nudges you, nodding his head to it but it only makes you shake your head even more.
“No way!”
“Just blow your nose now so you wouldn’t feel stuffy later.”
“I’m not gonna feel stuffy later. It’s just a little rain,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms together as you beg internally for the lighting to be fixed so you could shoo your husband away.
“Blow your nose while I’m still asking.”
“Ew, no. I’ll look like a child in front of — Jungkook!”
Before you could even comprehend it, Jungkook’s already pinching your nose with the handkerchief, forcibly making you blow your nose, uncaring of the swooning and oddly endeared eyes trained on the two of you.
“Just a little rain. Heh,” he mocks, folding the handkerchief back up with one hand to tuck back into his waistband. Jungkook moves on like it’s nothing, begrudgingly leaving you alone without an umbrella, but not without raising his voice enough for the other staff to hear. “I’ll try to scare your management into raising your hazard pay.”
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook likes peeling fruits for you and Hwayoung.
He doesn’t like the sticky residue nor the lasting smell that gets stuck underneath his fingernails, but he manages. He’d only eat your leftovers and he wouldn’t do it for himself anyway, even if he knows you always get a little irked by the fact.
It’s his habit now to cut fruits for you in the most Hwayoung-tolerable slices possible, the bowl of tinily-cut tangerines underneath your hands as you skim through your script making him uncharacteristically silent; if he wasn’t apologizing to you, you would be talking each other’s ear off about Hwayoung.
He tries not to make a big deal out of brushing your hair because it’s been a while since the last time, instead reading your script along with you so he’ll be distracted. Jungkook doesn’t know if he can focus as hard as you do or remain like so for even longer, but at the moment, there’s only one line on the script that stands out to him.
It stands out, not because it’s long nor vulgar, but because the line belongs to him.
“That scene — will it be filmed today?” Jungkook asks, breaking the silence as he traces the words with his finger.
“Huh? This one?” you follow to where he points, shaking his head as you try to remember. “No. It’ll be next week, I think. I’m just memorizing in advance.”
Jungkook hums but it’s not out of interest, the sound that comes from him instead bordering on a wince. There’s a terse look on his face that you could only liken to jealousy, the thought of it unexpectedly making you snicker.
“Calm down, Jungkook. It’s not a kissing scene.”
“But you say I love you to him, though.”
“That’s worse?”
“Maybe. Probably,” he shrugs, the uncalled-for thought about what he’d feel if there’s a scene where you have to have (read: acting to have) sex making his throat close up painfully. “I can’t tell.”
The thought crosses your mind too, but you’d rather not dwell on it.
“How do I look like when I say I love you?”
Jungkook purses his lips, pausing from brushing out the section of hair he’s passed through more than ten times out of distraction (read: devastation).
You look like love itself if it had been personified. 
You look like an unexplainable feeling in an interrupted dream he had been born with, and his sole mission in life is to seek you.
You look like what miracles do and he’s the first witness each and every time until you’re canonized by everyone, except he always wants to place himself at your feet as your first devotee.
“I know exactly what you look like when you tell me you love me,” Jungkook answers. “But I don’t want to tell you.”
“Why not?” you laugh at his defensiveness, replacing your gaze on him through the mirror just to crane your neck up at him so you could see his reaction more closely.
“Because you only have to act it out,” he shrugs, eventually laughing along with you even if he means every word. “I want to be the only one that knows what you look like when you’re saying the truth.”
( ♡ ) 
It’s your first good day in a week and a half.
It’s actually the first day wherein you and Jungkook talked simply because you wanted to; the first day wherein your conversations didn’t revolve around Hwayoung and pestering Yoongi to send more pictures of her, and the first day wherein Jungkook didn’t try apologizing.
You hum in content as you sit on the couch as soon as you come home, your husband following suit and sitting next to you instead of giving you space.
There’s only a centimeter worth of distance between your hands placed on the couch, and if Jungkook only twitched in faux accident, his pinky (the one that still wore your wedding band) would be brushing yours already.
“It’s like we’re kids again,” you smile to yourself, looking around the entire house. You remember how your ceilings didn’t used to be this high and how your space didn’t used to be this wide — you remember how you and Jungkook weren’t always like this.
“We are kids,” he emphasizes, playfully rolling his eyes.
“Aren’t we pushing thirty?”
“I don’t wanna go into details right now,” he murmurs, slouching further into the couch and nearer to you, his hair that’s growing past his ears lightly brushing against your shoulder.
Jungkook looks around the house too, his eyes glazing past Hwayoung’s playpen, the laundry of a family of three that he’s yet to fold, and the toys of a cat who hates him that he has to sort out soon enough.
Jungkook’s life wasn’t always this way and although he appreciates the fact, he’s terrified by the possibility that it’ll be this double-edged sword that’s waiting to happen.
In the same way that worship is optional but devotion is necessary, Jungkook tries to hold you as tightly as he could without pushing you away.
“Baby,” he rasps out, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to make sense of the ache that blooms in his chest. “What if…”
“What’s in your head, Kook?”
In the same way that devotion is necessary but worship is optional, Jungkook toes the line with a question that he has no telling what the answer is to.
“If you had the option to have Hwayoung with someone who isn’t me,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of the immediate pang in his heart that follows.“Would you still have her?”
You think for a second and answer immediately, even if Jungkook wanted you to stay silent for longer because he’s afraid of what you would say.
“That’s not Hwayoung then.”
“No but I mean hypothetically, if you could have Hwayoung-…”
“I got what you meant the first time,” you interrupt him, gently shrugging him to get up from your shoulder so he’d look at you without running away. “That’s not Hwayoung,” you mumble, trying to keep up with the myriad of thoughts that he had opened up. “Hwayoung’s only Hwayoung because she’s part me and part you.”
Jungkook nods, except he doesn’t understand. You could say your piece over and over again, but Jungkook still wouldn’t understand because he doesn’t know what he wants to hear from you either.
“But what if she has all of you and you could pick someone else to be her dad,” he croaks, looking down on the floor with a grief that belongs only to him. “Would you still want her?”
“I want Hwayoung because she’s my daughter with you, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I could pick someone to be her dad and that someone is you. I already chose you — what’s hard to understand about that?”
You hear Jungkook asking you the question over and over again, even if his mouth is already shut. You see him looking at you with tears in his eyes even if they’re downcast on the floor in reality.
You feel yourself wavering even if you’re definite about your answer.
“You made me a mom and I made you a dad.”
“But I doomed us into this,” Jungkook weakly counters. “If only… i-if only I changed my ways earlier, if I — if I could’ve been just content with this perfect life you built for us, t-then we wouldn’t be-…”
Jungkook inhales sharply, the choke that soon follows ringing in your ears to the point that it pricks tears from your eyes. 
“We wouldn’t be in this situation, Y/N. I turned us into this,” he sobs. “If only I could’ve been s-satisfied, Hwayoung would be in my arms at this time while we wait for you to come home,” Jungkook shakes his head painfully, the clench of his fists evident even when you’re only looking at him from the corner of your eye. “If only I thought everything you— you spoon-fed me was enough, then Yoongi, of all people, wouldn’t be babysitting our daughter right now,” he pauses. “Why can’t I be in your press conference?”
You don’t have to look anywhere in the house to realize that Hwayoung’s playpen is empty.
You don’t have to tune anything out to realize that Hwayoung isn’t here in between the two of you, talking and giggling as you go about your day while you’re still wearing your outside clothes; while she’s still in her pajamas because she wanted to wait for you to come home.
The gravity of everything hits you all at once, making you hiccup in tears.
“You were really mean, Jungkook.”
In the same way that worship is optional but devotion is necessary, Jungkook listens to you even if it’s you cursing him.
“I’m not the best mom there is because I’ve missed so much milestones. I… I-I’ve missed so much trying to secure everything for you, for Hwayoung, f-for us because I don’t know how much more I could take,” you sob, burying your face in your hands. “Do you know how hard it is for me? Do you know how hard it is for me to work alone while knowing that my husband and daughter have each other at home? That I don’t have someone while I put myself out there?”
There’s a strain of grief in your heart that only you carry, and Jungkook can’t do anything about it.
“I feel so, so, s-so fucking guilty, Jungkook!” you shriek, your cheeks turning blotchy the more that you cry. “I-I… I had to pick up this child— this child actor— over and over again because my fake role is to be his mother,” you strain a laugh humorlessly, trying to screw your eyes shut so you wouldn’t see Hwayoung’s laundry from the corner of your eye. “Meanwhile, I can’t even hold my own child because her appa’s already taking good care of her at home.”
In the same way that devotion is necessary but worship is optional, Jungkook takes it, takes you, should this be his punishment.
“Jungkook, if you envy me, then you don’t know how much I envy you more,” you exhale in defeat, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “If only I could, do you think I wouldn’t drop everything just to stay at home with you and Hwayoung?” 
“You could be mad at me all you want, Jungkook, but I still don’t want you to go to the press con.” 
“It’s different now, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes rubbed red and raw as he pleads with you silently because no word, no litany can save him now.
“But how different is now from then? It’s like we’re kids again, Jungkook,” you whisper. “If you were the one in my place, would you drop everything if I asked you to?” you add, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Can you drop everything if I asked you to?”
( ♡ ) 
In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, he’s never met Sora, and you happen to be his first everything.
In a dream your husband doesn’t tell anyone, he doesn’t know of Eunsu’s existence, and if he were to know about her, he only happens to think about her as your rival and nothing more.
In a dream he doesn’t tell anyone, he didn’t wake up late in your bed, and he most certainly heard Yoongi ringing the bell eagerly because he wanted to take Hwayoung home to see the both of you before you go to your press conference.
Jungkook bounds down the stairs so quickly that he almost trips on the way down. His hair is still unkempt and his shirt remains askew, yet he still goes down anyway with a speed you can’t even decipher because he’s already heard his daughter cheerful screaming.
"Up, up!" Hwayoung claps her hands, looking at Jungkook’s direction but not at him — instead, she’s looking at Yoongi who’s emerging from the kitchen.
In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, Hwayoung doesn’t know anyone except for you and him.
“Up, appa! Up!”
In a nightmare that Jungkook’s experiencing in real time, Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi as her dad.
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sughuru ¡ 1 year ago
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you’re late
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- gojo satoru x reader and young! fushiguro megumi
you forgot to pick up a certain someone from school.
genres/warnings: fluff, reader is gojo’s s/o, platonic relationship with megumi, kinda ooc, more of a thought that came to my mind, not proofread
notes: hopefully i’ll have time to write more as christmas break is finally here!! as always, english isnt my first language so ignore any errors, thank youu!
home | masterlist
—
You were impromptly called in by Yaga to take over a second grader’s mission in Kyoto and you had just finished. You checked the time on your phone and noticed it was almost 4 PM. As you were heading home you decided to stop by the supermarket to grab yourself a drink and perhaps a snack and some candies for Tsumiki and Megumi, although, they’d probably be eaten by your boyfriend anyway.
As you were walking home, you received a phone call from your loving boyfriend, Satoru. You answered the call, a small smile forming, “yes, darling?”
You could hear Satoru chuckle from the other end of the phone, “Hey, babe! Just returned from a mission, have you picked up Megumi?” he asks. You froze on the spot, almost dropping the groceries earlier. You gripped onto the phone tighter, your other hand tightly clutching on the plastic bags.
“…weren’t you supposed to pick Megumi up?” you asked, worry washed over you as you quickly sped walk home.
Noises from Satoru’s end of the line were loud, “huh? I thought you— damn it! Can’t you see I’m calling the love of my life?” he seems to be in the middle of a exorcism. You sighed and quickly ended the call.
“Okay okay, fuck, I forgot!” you quickly turned around and made your way to Megumi’s school. Your heart was filled with guilt, realizing that you really did forget to pick him up as you remembered that Satoru did remind you last week that he couldn’t pick the young boy up today.
Standing right outside the school gate, you entered to look for the tiny boy. You noticed a little boy with jet black hair by the swing, swinging himself back and forth. As you got closer, you could hear soft sniffles.
“Gumi?” you softly called out and the boy turned around, revealing it to be Megumi indeed. You quickly ran up to him, “I’m so so so sorry…I forgot— I accepted a mission and completely forgot Satoru couldn’t pick you up and Tsumiki’s at a sleepover.” you quickly hugged him tightly. Megumi didn’t say anything.
“I-it’s okay…” Megumi’s soft voice cracked which made your heart shatter a little more, you noticed there were dry tear stains on his cheek.
You picked him up, “as an apology, how about we get some ice cream, yeah?” you grinned at him.
Megumi nods, clearly still upset by the whole situation; but who could blame him?
At the ice cream store, you allowed him to get two scoops of his favorite flavors. The boy seemed to be in a better mood after eating.
“Megumi, I’m really sorry again, I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long at school!” you quickly apologized again and the boy shook his head, “it’s okay…it was a mistake, right?”
You blinked, “of course it was!” That’s when you realized something.
Megumi and Tsumiki’s father abandoned them when they were really young, you had assumed that Megumi had no recollection of those memories but today’s situation says otherwise.
Realizing that Megumi thought that you and Satoru were abandoning him and his sister caused you to slightly tear up.
“Y/N?”
“Sorry, I-“ you quickly wipe your tears but Megumi’s small hands beat you to it. He attempted to wipe it off with a tissue before throwing it away.
“It was an honest mistake, I-i understand, okay?” he muttered. For a seven year old, you couldn’t believe how mature he is for his age.
You nodded, “yeah, yeah.”
Megumi nods. The air was so thick, you were about to break the ice when Megumi looked up again, “Y/N.”
“Mhm?”
“…don’t tell Gojo, okay?” Megumi starts as he mixes the melted ice cream that is left in his cup, “you and…Gojo won’t ever leave me and Tsumiki, right?”
You pulled him into a hug, “of course not! I wouldn’t even dream of it!” Megumi gave you a small smile, “promise?”
“A promise.” you reassured the boy once more as you tightly hugged him more. It was evident that Megumi seemed to relax after you hugging him.
Later that evening, you explained the whole situation to Satoru. To make up for your mistake, you took Megumi and Satoru to his favorite dog cafe and let him stay as long as he pleases.
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theonotti ¡ 1 year ago
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THAT FINAL NIGHT | OS | t.n.
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle
Word Count: 8k
Summary: Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Theodore Nott is out of Azkaban. And after years and years of being apart, he's finally ready for the reunion he's been waiting on.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, kind of angsty, kinda fluffy, pining, Modern AU where i moved up the battle so 10 years later is more present day
Notes: This is my first full Theo fic, please let me know what you think!
“Guess who’s in town.”
Theo hums thoughtfully while he sets the heavy box in his arms down on the counter, ripping the tape off.
“Oprah.”
Mattheo rolls his eyes.
“Try again.”
“The Queen.”
“The dead one?”
“Right. Forgot about that.”
Mattheo laughs, shaking his head as he grabs a rag and a spray bottle to wipe off the bar top.
“Got any other foolish guesses?” He asks. Theo pauses, feigning thought before shaking his head and resuming his work.
“Fresh out, I’m afraid.”
Theo grabs a pair of bottles from the open box then turns towards the shelves behind him. His back aches from the amount of moving he’s had to do. Running heavy boxes from his truck to the stockroom. Bending down while doing inventory. At the ripe age of 27, his back just isn’t what it used to be, and is in far worse shape than most men his senior.
Mattheo glances down at the bar briefly, the humor slowly fading from his expression, before he looks back up at his best friend.
“My sister.”
The bottle shatters as it hits the floor.
Theo jumps, not realizing one of the bottles had slipped from his hand until it was too late. Mattheo stares as Theo begins to clean up his mess, although if he notices that it happening right when his sister was mentioned is more than a coincidence, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Erm… What's she doing in town?” Theo asks casually as he kneels down with the broom and dustpan.
“Her and that rat, McLaggen, are finally getting divorced. She’s staying with me for a while.”
The room starts to swelter. Theo nods, trying to play off his sigh as one of sympathy rather than relief. Standing with the dustpan full of glass, he dumps the remains of the bottle into one of the other empty boxes he made while stocking before putting the cleaning supplies away. His hands slide into his pockets to wipe the sweat from his palms.
“How… how’s she handling it?”
This makes Mattheo pause. He glances up at his oldest friend, his look a mix of thoughtful and confused.
“She’s weirdly… calm about it,” He explains in a slow voice. “I think their marriage ended a long time ago, and she’s had time to mourn it before actually sticking the knife in it.”
The thought of you being miserable for that long before taking the plunge to leave sends Theo’s heart into a sadness he can’t explain. He looks away from Mattheo, trying to rationalize his thoughts before speaking again. Fortunately for him, Mattheo pipes up again before he has the chance.
“She’ll be at Malfoy’s party on Saturday. She can meet a new bloke there.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Theo’s mouth, but not over his friend’s cheeky remark.
“You’d rather her hook up with someone who aligns with Draco Malfoy?” Theo dares to ask as he looks back at the curly haired man next to him.
A beat passes.
“You’re right. She’s actually banned from the premises.”
A hearty laugh escapes Theo’s mouth as he turns away from Mattheo, although he could hear the seriousness in his friend’s tone behind the joke.
“Remind me… what did she see in McLaggen again?” Theo asks as he begins to fill the shelves behind the counter with the bottles he managed not to break. Mattheo sighs in exasperation, slapping the towel against the top of the bar.
“Fuck if I know,” Mattheo mumbles. “I asked her over and over how she could marry that creep. I think that’s why she stopped phoning, honestly.”
Theo raises his eyebrows only briefly, although with his back to Mattheo, it’s a look only expressed to himself. Mattheo Riddle, for as long as Theo can remember, has always been the over protective brother first and foremost. The relationship he holds with you is still his most important one, and Theo knows better than anyone how seriously Mattheo takes that. Their entire tenure at Hogwarts, Mattheo watched over you like a hawk, keeping the dusty boys who dared to crush on you in their place. The fact that McLaggen, of all people, was able to slip through the cracks the second Mattheo and Theo were gone was a pain that haunted Mattheo for years. And though it was for completely different reasons, it haunted Theo too.
“Are you going to punch the first man who talks to her? For old times sake?” Theo asks, trying to bite back a smirk.
Mattheo laughs loudly, shaking his head.
“I’ve grown since our time at Hogwarts,” He defends himself. “I won’t punch them if they just talk to her…” He pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. “Now, if they look at her? Dead man walking.”
Theo shakes his head.
The room grows quiet as the two men continue to work. Theo’s mind wanders as he puts the stock away. When was the last time he saw you? Damn near a decade ago. It was the night of the battle. A few bottles of fire whiskeys had been procured, thanks to Mattheo and his mysterious ways of smuggling contraband into the school. It was the first get-together like this that they’d had in a long time… and, unbeknownst to them, it would be the last.
~
“There’s not enough fire whiskey in the world to make me go down those stairs with Theo.”
“You worried you’ll fall in love with him, Riddle?”
“I’m worried he’ll actually try to kiss me, is what I’m worried about.”
Theo laughed as he took another swig from the bottle, before saying, “In your dreams, Riddle.”
The group erupted with laughter as they sat in a circle on the upper balcony of the Astronomy Tower. Blaise, Daphne, Astoria, Pansy, and even Malfoy were all taking part. It was pretty late, but with the Death Eaters having their hold on Hogwarts, the Riddle heirs were given free reign, subsequently meaning their friends were given the same treatment. Which is why it was so easy for Mattheo to procure two bottles of fire whiskey, one of which already completely gone.
Theo’s stoic nature had been greatly diminished by the alcohol, his head swirling just enough to make him feel light and calm. Despite the juvenile feeling it gave him, the game of Seven Minutes in Heaven that started once the first bottle had emptied was quite entertaining, and had grown even more so when Mattheo took the last turn, and the bottle landed on none other than Theo.
“You know the rules, Mattheo.” Your voice sounded like honey when you chimed in from across the circle, sitting next to Pansy with your legs sprawled out in front of you. “You either have to go to the lower level with our friend Teddy here-“ Theo looked down at the ground, trying to hide his reaction to your nickname for him. “-Or you have to drink.”
Mattheo didn’t hesitate before snatching the bottle that still had liquor in it right out of Theo’s hand and putting the end to his mouth, dramatically throwing his head backwards. One, two, three giant gulps went down Mattheo’s throat, not a flinch in sight as he set it back down with a pleased look on his face.
“Don’t drink all of it, Matty,” Astoria pouted, reaching over and snatching the bottle from his grasp. Theo looked over at you, meeting your eyes at the exact moment that you looked over at him. Raising your hand, you pointed to your mouth and made a puke face. He bit back a smile before looking away from you.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Nott,” Mattheo said, ignoring Astoria’s comment as he nodded towards the empty bottle in the middle to indicate his friend’s turn at the game. Theo rolled his eyes as he leaned forward.
“I’d snog sandpaper before I’d let your cracked lips anywhere near mine.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the bottle spinning. The look on Theo’s face read nonchalance, but that didn’t match up with the pounding in his chest. It felt like he could hear the second hand of the clock tower ticking in the distance, though he knew it was too far away for him to actually hear it. As the bottle began to slow, Theo bit the inside of his cheek, and when it came to a stop, his teeth almost clamped down entirely.
You.
The universe and Merlin himself came together and had the bottle land on you.
Theo could feel his cheeks burning, not moving a muscle as his eyes trailed to Mattheo. The humor had completely drained from his curly haired friend’s face.
“Re-spin, Theo.”
Theo didn’t even have time to process Mattheo’s words, let alone answer, before you were already turning to face him.
“Why ask me to play if I can’t participate?”
This made Theo’s cheeks burn more, though no one could notice, their attention being on the altercation brewing between Mattheo and you.
“Because you’d bitch about it if I didn’t.”
“And you didn’t think I’d bitch about you bitching about me participating?”
Mattheo said nothing to his sister, instead turning his fierce gaze back to Theo.
“I’ll cut your fucking eyes out if you even think about it, Nott.”
As Theo opened his mouth to respond, you pushed yourself off the floor. The look on your face could be read as many different things; Defiance, anger, annoyance. But one thing was clear- you were not allowing Mattheo to have the final say.
“Come on, Theo.”
You put your hand out towards him. The conflict in his chest was rising rapidly as everyone stared at him, waiting for him to make his decision. Only two of those sets of eyes brought him the anxiety that coursed through him. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off Mattheo.
But he knew his choice before he even knew he had to make one. As soon as the bottle came to a stop, the deal was signed.
Reaching up, he took your hand and allowed you to pull him to his feet. Mattheo’s face was filled with a mix of rage and surprise as he watched you lead Theo away from the group.
“You better keep your fucking hands to yourself, Nott.”
“No promises, Matty,” You sneered without looking at Mattheo, as your foot hit the first step down. Theo’s eyes drifted to look over the railing that paralleled the stairs as the two of you began to descend, overlooking the castle and the Black Lake in the distance. His heart was in his throat once his feet reached the wooden floor.
The lower level of the balcony was used as storage. Surrounding the outer edges were fixtures covered in sheets that were held down with rope, presumably statues and pieces of furniture. Other miscellaneous things were also scattered around, such as a two seater bench that was split in two, a random assortment of stools, and abandoned cauldrons. In the middle of the ceiling was a glass globe fixture, the bottom half on the lower level while the top was displayed on the upper level. Along it was a metal lining that didn’t quite reach the walls, meaning there was enough of an opening for people to look down. When Theo looked up, he saw multiple sets of eyes staring down into the lower level, one of which was accompanied by angry shouts at him to Know your place, Nott and Don’t even think about it. Not a word could be said about it before you were flicking your wand in its direction. A flash of light flashed through the room, and suddenly, Theo couldn’t look through the openings anymore. Turning, you did the same to the staircase.
Theo looked at you in awe.
“Since when can you cast spells without speaking?”
You shrugged, as if it were a completely benign thing.
“I’ve been practicing.”
Theo stuffed his hands in his pockets as you sat down on a spare table off to the side. It was impossible for him not to look at you like you had just put the stars in the sky, but hell did he try not to.
“Maybe you should’ve been in Ravenclaw,” He commented, causing you to roll your eyes.
“You think I’d ever hear the end of it from that one?” You pointed to the ceiling, where loud footsteps and even louder voices could be heard from the other side. Theo laughed at this, his head craning backwards.
“I think you’d have killed him before finishing out first year, if that were the case.”
The tension in the air was palpable. Was it from Mattheo’s anger? Or Theo’s feelings? It was hard to say, but he found himself wondering if you felt it too. Before he could think too much about it, you spoke again.
“Sometimes I wish I had gotten put in another house, though. Instead of Slytherin.”
Theo froze. Of anything you could’ve possibly said, he never would’ve suspected… Well, that.
“Why?” He asked, tone soft.
You looked down at your hands, mindlessly pinching at your skin.
“It would make me think I was made for more than what my family has planned for me.” You sighed as your gaze met Theo once more. “I never wanted any of this. The special treatment from the Death Eaters and the constant fear. I don’t want it.”
Eyes narrowing slightly, Theo mulled over your words.
“Why would you, the daughter of Lord Voldemort, have anything to fear?”
You sat up a little straighter, pressing your lips together in a thin line.
“I know you’ve been working for him.”
Theo swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A beat passed.
“Didn’t I?”
You scooted down the table so now your feet touched the floor, more leaning on it than sitting, folding your hands in front of you. Theo’s eyes never left you as he studied your every move. The heat from your stare was making his palms sweat.
“You promised me you wouldn’t,” You reminded him. He closed his eyes. How could such a quiet part of the castle suddenly feel so loud? He couldn’t do this with you. Not right now. You wouldn’t understand.
“My father wanted me to become… acquainted with the family business,” He explained slowly. This didn’t seem to appease you.
“You could’ve talked to me. I would’ve figured something out,” You said. Was that annoyance in your voice? Or something else? “Maybe my father doesn’t take Mattheo seriously but he would’ve listened to me if I asked him not to send you on errands.”
Theo shook his head, his eyes drifting to the floor just briefly. “It’s too late now.”
The words hung in the air for a moment too long. Theo watched as a thought seemed to pop into your head, the expression on your face changing from mildly frustrated to downright terror. You slowly pushed away from the table. There was something about the way you were looking at him, with your lips slightly parted and your eyes filled with confusion, that made him feel sick.
“Theo… did you take the Mark?”
~
The Christmas party is too reminiscent of one of the Slytherin common room parties. The music is too loud. The people are too drunk. And Theo is too fucking old for this.
He squeezes down a random hallway of Malfoy Manor, narrowly missing Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood as they make out against the wall. Try he does to not give them a passing glance, albeit a confused one, but radically does he fail.
Time really is a funny thing, He thinks to himself. Changes people in ways no one could ever understand.
Theo’s arrival at the party was as anticlimactic as he wanted it to be. In the hour since he walked through the door, he can count on less than ten fingers how many familiar faces he saw, and he only needed one hand to count how many people he’s spoken to.
Though Draco is the only Malfoy living in the mansion now, save his wife, it still looks exactly the same as it did when they were kids. Theo remembers the summers away from Hogwarts spent roaming these halls with Draco, Mattheo and you. The weeks and weeks at a time spent here after his mother died and his father made it clear he didn’t understand how to be a father. If it weren’t for Narcissa Malfoy, Theo can’t imagine the man he would be now. He feels it in his heart every time he walks by a picture of her, her tender eyes and sweet smile looking back at him. The closest thing to a mother he ever had.
You should write to her more, He thinks to himself.
Theo enters the kitchen, with his hand almost on the knob of the back door, when a voice stops him.
“Theodore Nott! Hi!”
He turns to find Astoria Greengr- Malfoy looking at him with a wide smile. It hasn’t been too long since he had last seen her, although it’s enough time for her to have a swollen pregnant belly this go around. Her wedding to Malfoy was small and rushed, as it wasn’t long after him, Theo and Mattheo had returned from their time away, but her smile is the same now as it was that day.
She waddles up to Theo, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he plants a quick kiss on her cheek.
“You alright, Tori?” His voice is gentle in a way that it never was with Astoria. It has to be the pregnancy causing him to be nicer. The fact remains that he and Astoria historically never got along, and while he would never outwardly be mean to her, especially now as the wife of one of his best mates, he didn’t go out of his way to be nice to her, either. Which is why at the wedding, he didn’t intentionally avoid her that entire evening. He just simply didn’t go out of his way to speak to her. The wad of cash he left in an envelope on the gift table that evening spoke for itself, in his humble opinion.
Astoria shrugs casually, before saying, “Just running around, as usual. What have you been up to since-“ She cuts off, swallowing as the smile on her face falters ever so slightly. It’s obvious to anyone what she was about to say and even more so that it was meant to remain a thought in her head and never pass her lips. But it’s too late for that now, as the ghost of the words unsaid still hang in the air above them. Theo sighs as he turns to the kitchen island, which is buried in alcohol bottles, and begins to pour himself a drink. A strong one.
“You can say it, Tori.”
She still hesitates before it comes out in a barely audible whisper.
“Since Azkaban?”
There it is.
Theo doesn’t even blink. The word is so casual to him now, so recurrent in his daily thoughts that it’s almost chronic. Though, his teeth still grow cold as the memories of the brutally cold air flood through him.
“Oh, you know,” He manages to answer. “Mattheo and I started the bar in Hogsmeade. I’m sure you heard all about that. Have a cottage now, not too far from there.” He hums in thought. “Got a cat. She’s a bloody shit, but I love her.”
All of this seems to surprise Astoria, and Theo didn’t blame her. He wasn’t the same boy she knew back at Hogwarts. He never would be again. All of the fire and fight that he had back then was snuffed out in the years he was locked away. Now, some days it feels like he is a shell of his former self.
“What’s her name? Your cat?”
Theo smiles brightly, as if he was being asked about his own child.
“Crisp.”
Astoria stifles a laugh.
“Crisp?”
“She’s a black cat, so she looks like she’s... burnt to a crisp.”
Astoria pauses for a second before breaking into a smile and laughing out loud, the sound filling the kitchen. It gives Theo deja vu, reminding him of the days in the common room where he’d hear it and cringe. The thought makes him feel a little bad. Only a little though.
“That’s funny,” She remarks, still coming down from the high of it as she carefully wipes her eyes. Theo smiles politely, glancing at the back door before turning back to Astoria. What the hell does he say now? He already knows what’s going on with her. It’s popping out of her dress.
“Erm… Is Mattheo here yet?”
Astoria perks up at the sound of his best friend’s name, her eye developing a twinkle that wasn’t there before. Something about it makes Theo a little sad. Though her love for Draco was true, Astoria always held a torch for Mattheo. Everyone knew it. Even Draco, who still ended up marrying her in the end. Mattheo just never felt the same pull to Astoria that she felt for him. And though he never talked about it with Theo, he couldn’t help but wonder if that thought ever made Mattheo feel guilty.
Just as quick as it came, the spark in Astoria’s eye disappears and is replaced with… something Theo can’t quite place.
“They’ll be here any minute,” Astoria finally answers with a slight smirk. Theo feels his heart swell. The use of they instead of he was not lost on him.
Nodding, Theo turns his body toward the back door, his gaze still on Astoria.
“Good talking to you, Tori.”
She gives him a look, another one that he just can’t read, which is starting to frustrate him, before smiling softly at him.
“I’ll send erm… Mattheo your way when he gets here.”
He nods once more, giving her a final half cooked smile before letting himself out into the back courtyard.
The circular courtyard is centered with a large fountain, the centerpiece being a dragon. Shrubbery and flowers of different shapes and sizes line the edges. Theo walks the pebbled pathways with the same familiarity that he would walk the Hogwarts grounds. He knows every turn, every bench, every scuff mark on the brick walls like the back of his hands. As he sips on his drink, he finds himself reminiscing on the reverie of being a young kid, running down these same paths with his closest friends. So many memories made on this very plot of land. Mattheo falling and cracking his head on the side of the fountain and Draco trying to use a spell to fix it, only to make it worse. Theo picking the roses off one of the many rose bushes to give to you, then the scolding he received after. All of the cigarette butts that he and Mattheo were forced to clean up when Narcissa would discover them. Probably thousands of cigarette butts between the two of them. But they never learned to find a container for them. It seems like it was a whole lifetime ago. Maybe it was.
Theo passes beyond the shrubbery to walk the trails that line the estate. It never gets old, walking through the pine trees. Muscle memory carries his legs towards his favorite spot on the whole lot. He tries to remember the last time he’d walked this route, but he can’t. Which means it’s been too long.
The bench comes into view, the huge oak tree still standing guard behind it. If the sun was out, it would provide the perfect shade, regardless of the time of day. Surrounding it are multiple rose bushes, a Narcissa Malfoy addition. Theo used to spend many hours at this bench, reading or losing himself in thought. It has always been a sanctuary to him, even now, after all these years.
Sitting down, he inhales slowly before letting it out in a long drawl. Being here again feels like coming home for the first time since his release from Azkaban. There’s only one thing that could make it perfect…
Damn, I wish I had a cigarette, He finds himself thinking.
Okay, maybe two things could make it perfect.
“Thought I’d find you out here.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.
He would’ve never expected the sight of you to be accompanied by the smell of cigarettes, yet here you are, slowly walking down the path with a freshly lit smoke in your hand. A slight smile fills your cheeks as you look at him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The word runs through his brain like a news headline on the television. It never occurred to him that you could get more stunning. The familiar feeling of his palms growing sweaty hits him, and he instinctively wipes them on his jeans.
“Since when do you smoke?”
You take a long drag, holding your breath before blowing a cloud into the air above you. In the back of Theo’s brain is the sound of you relentlessly nagging him to quit, a treatment you curiously only saved for him and did not share with your brother.
“D’you want to hear something silly?” You ask him. He shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes jumping up to the night sky. “I found myself missing it. The smell. Can you believe that?”
A laugh bursts from Theo’s chest.
“No,” He admits. “With the way you went on about it? If you weren’t smoking in front of me right now, I would never believe you.”
Shaking your head, smiling, you slowly make your way towards him.
“Mattheo was so angry when he found out,” You say. “And he, apparently, is smoke free now. I’m not even allowed to smoke near him. After all the years he was perfectly fine with giving me secondhand lung cancer!” You roll your eyes. “I only smoke every once in a while, though. Nothing like the two of you did, fucking chimneys.”
Theo stands as you approach the bench, his hands in his pocket. You waste no time before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. As he snakes his arms around your torso, his eyes flutter shut. You smell exactly the same, save for the new addition of the cigarette smoke. And you still make his stomach turn with every touch. He kisses the side of your head before pulling away, unable to contain the smile that forces its way across his cheeks.
“You weren’t at the wedding.”
Pursing your lips, you look away from him.
“I, unfortunately, was otherwise engaged.”
There’s something cryptic behind your words, and it doesn’t sit well with him.
“What does that mean?” He asks. From his recollection, even Mattheo didn’t know why you had bailed on such an important event. Being one of his longest friends, Draco was distraught by your absence.
“It means that I don’t want to tell you why I couldn’t go,” You inform him. His eyes narrow slightly.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’ll be angry. And I’m not interested in starting our reunion out that way.”
A cool breeze blows through the air, but Theo isn’t convinced that it’s the cause of the chill that flows through him.
“How do you know I’ll be angry?” He questions, although hesitantly. You give him a look.
“Because I know you. You’ve been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember. I could be blindfolded and still pick you out just by the sound of your breathing. And I know what will make you mad.” You take another drag of the cigarette, the smoke filling the air with your sigh. “This will.”
The debate in Theo’s head is intense. On one hand, with how cryptic you’re being, he wants to know what the reason was. Just the way you said it has a fire flaring in his chest. But on the other hand, you're right. He’d rather not plague the reunion that he’s been thinking about for the last decade with anger. Not when he doesn’t have to. Not while you’re looking at him like that, with a warm smile and even warmer gaze. Before he has the chance to decide how to go forward, you make the choice for him.
“Let me take a look at you,” You say, taking a step back and looking him up and down. Internally, Theo prays that his cheeks don’t reflect on the outside the heat they feel on the inside, as your eyes trail from the top of his head to his feet.
“You still look like my Theo. Except for this.” Stepping forward, you bring a hand to his left cheek, your fingers resting on his jaw as your thumb grazes the beard growing on his face. Theo holds his breath, because he knows if he exhales, you’ll hear the shudder. When you let your hand drop, left behind is the feeling of ice where your warm fingertips had been. You shake your head. “Certainly don’t look like an ex-convict.”
Theo’s next words leave his mouth before he has time to think them through.
“You certainly don’t look like a newly divorced woman.”
As soon as the words enter the atmosphere, Theo’s face falls, and he wants to insert his foot in his mouth. It wasn’t meant to be the insult it sounded like when he said it. But to his astonishment, you just smile, looking up at the sky as you shake your head.
“It was never going to last with Cormac,” You tell him. “Our divorce was written in the stars. I knew that. I don’t know if he knew that, but I did.”
Theo’s gaze drifts to the ground before looking back up at you. The question he wants to ask is running on repeat in his mind, as he goes back and forth on whether or not to even say it.
Fuck it.
“Why did you marry him?”
You flinch slightly, to Theo’s dismay. The last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. At the same time, he went all these years wondering how someone like you could be with someone like Cormac Fucking McLaggen, the same Cormac Fucking McLaggen that you and him spent hours and hours collectively making fun of back in school, and he couldn’t go without finding out any longer.
“He was there and-“ You stop abruptly, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again. He can practically see you rearranging your thoughts. “And no one else was.”
Theo raises an eyebrow.
“You didn’t think you deserved or could find anyone better?”
You laugh suddenly, confusing Theo, before you respond.
“I knew I could find someone better,” You say. “He was just intended to be… a placeholder. Just to pass the time.” You sigh. “He ended up being a shitty placeholder, and more work than was necessary. That was my fault. I got complacent.”
The more you explain yourself, the more Theo grows confused. He wants to yell at you, to tell you to just say what you mean. But he doesn’t.
“A placeholder?” He asks quietly. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”
For a moment, you don’t say anything, taking another drag from your cigarette and blowing the smoke into the air. Theo watches you, so tempted to ask you for one, but he’s so wrapped up in the conversation that he can barely breathe, let alone speak.
“It means he was there, I was lonely and I was waiting for something better.”
Theo’s eyes are fixed on every move you make, his whole body turning to watch you sit down on the bench. As he tries to sort through his racing thoughts to find a coherent one, you take another drag of the cigarette, looking around at the roses. He takes a seat to the right of you.
“What were you waiting for?”
You don’t answer as you turn to look at him. Just the look on your face drives Theo crazy. Not once would he ever say that you remind him of your father, but your ability to move through a conversation with ease and manipulation is uncanny. He’s convinced that the word discomfort isn’t in your vocabulary. If a topic comes up that you don’t want to talk about, you simply twist the conversation back to exactly where you want it to be. And Theo, a person who knows you better than most, can tell just by the way you’re looking at him right now that you’re about to do what you do best. And he’s going to let you.
It’s the way you do it this time around, however, that comes as a surprise.
Your gaze drops to his left arm at his side, his hand resting on his knee. With a delicate touch, you reach over and take it between your fingers, slowly rising the sleeve up his arm as Theo, once again, forgets how to breathe entirely.
~
“I won’t ask you again, Theodore. Did you take the Dark Mark?”
The sound of his full name coming out of your mouth made his heart stop. Theo swallowed hard, whispering your name under his breath so quietly that a gust of wind could’ve drowned it out.
You charged towards him, grabbing his arm and yanking up the sleeve of his hoodie before he could even process that you had moved. There, in its glory, was the fresh mark, branded so recently that the skin surrounding it was still tender.
A strangled whimper escaped your mouth before you forcibly threw Theo’s arm away from you, as if it had burned you. Covering your mouth, you turned away from him, taking a couple of steps towards the table you had been sitting on only moments before. Nausea overwhelmed Theo as he stared at you. He followed your footsteps and reached out for your arm, only to have it yanked back the moment his fingers curled around your bicep. The gesture sent a ripple of pain through Theo’s chest.
“Please let me explain-“
“How could you do this!?” You shouted, whipping around to face him. The sight of the tears streaming down your face shredded his heart more than your words ever could. “We talked about this, Theo. I told you not to take the mark. Not to waste your life. How could you do this to yourself? Hell, how could you do this to me?”
I can’t do this, Theo thought to himself. I can’t.
The way your eyes were a careful mix of anger and devastation was too much for Theo. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to make you stop looking at him like that, and it was very rare for him to want you to stop looking at him at all. But he knew that the one thing that could make you relax once again was the one thing he couldn’t give you. He took another step towards you, saying your name again. When you took a step backwards, he felt like the floor was going to open up and swallow him whole.
“This is more than getting acquainted with the family business!” Your chest heaved as you spoke. “This is getting integrated.”
“I have just as much ability to say no to my father as you and Mattheo have to say no to yours!” He shouted desperately. “There was nothing I could do. You, of all people, have to understand.”
You vigorously shook your head. “No, Theo. I don’t. I would’ve done anything to stop this from happening.” The pain that dripped from your words was splattered on your face. Theo wanted to throw up just looking at your expression, each word feeling like another punch to the face.
“What would you have wanted me to do?” He asked, his voice now level but strained while taking another step forward. “Tell me. Tell me what you would have had me do.”
Your eyes were wide and filled with fear. Another cold breeze came through the cracks in the balcony walls. Instead of taking a step back when Theo stepped forward, you stood still, staring up at him as your chest continued to heavily rise and fall.
“Anything.” Your voice was a coarse whisper. “Literally anything else.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” He didn’t mean to shout at you again, but his head felt so foggy from the whole thing, he couldn’t think straight. The sadness in your eyes was destroying him in ways he would never understand.
“There’s always a fucking choice!” You shouted back.
“I-“
Theo was quickly cut off but your rapid speaking.
“We could’ve run. We could’ve fled together. Just you and me. Anywhere. Maybe to Italy so you could be close to the memory of your mother. Or to somewhere totally new, like Brazil. Or Japan. We could’ve escaped this together if you had given me the chance to help you. To save you.”
It would’ve hurt less if you had actually cut his chest open and ripped his heart out with your bare hands instead of doing it figuratively like you just had. He let out a shaky breath, his entire body going stiff.
“You don’t mean that,” He said quietly. “Just leave Mattheo? And your fam-“
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, Theodore.”
He flinched at the subsequent use of his full first name.
Theo stood frozen as he watched you press your hand over your eyes, inhaling deeply before letting it out just as hard. Your warm breath turned into a cloud of steam dissipating in front of you from the cold air. He took another step towards you, the distance dwindling.
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” He said softly. The pleading in his tone could be heard for miles.
You stood silent for a long time, your hand covering your eyes. With every passing moment where you didn’t speak, Theo grew more anxious. The silence between the two of you was just as loud as if you were screaming at the top of your lungs. But if Theo was being honest with himself, he’d rather you scream and shout at him. That's what he was used to. But the stunned silence? This was something that, in all the years of knowing and learning everything he could about you, he had never seen. It was too much for him to bear.
When he whispered your name again, you shook your head. The motion caused a pain in his chest so severe that he worried his heart would stop entirely. In a daring moment, he took a step forward, delicately pulling your hand from your face and tilting your head upwards to look at him.
“Please.” Theo did nothing to hide the pain and desperation in his tone. His hands moved to cradle your cheeks. “Please tell me what to do. And I’ll do it.”
Your eyes were wide as you stared into his. The world seemed to screech to a halt at this moment. The wind that had been haunting the balcony for the entire night stilled. The crickets went dead quiet. Theo’s thumbs stroked the skin of either side of your face.
Against his better judgment, despite the severity of the situation he and you find yourselves in, the proximity to you caused his eyes to instinctively jump down to your mouth.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you do the same.
As you opened your mouth to speak, an overwhelming pain radiated through Theo’s left arm. His hands dropped from your face as he stepped backwards, blowing out a hiss through his teeth as he gripped his forearm tightly. Your mouth pressed into a firm line, as you understood before he did what was about to happen. The noises from upstairs picked up again at the same moment, and in the distance, Theo could hear his name being shouted.
You quickly turned with your wand, removing the barrier you had created around the stairs. The shouting instantly grew louder, and suddenly, Mattheo appeared at the top of the steps. The anger he previously had was gone, replaced with another look that sent chills down Theo’s spine.
Fear.
He didn’t regard you at all. His eyes were focused on Theo.
“We have to go.”
Theo swallowed hard as Mattheo stared down at him.
“He’s here.”
~
The deja vu hits Theo hard as you roll his sleeve up.
Though your expression doesn’t change, he can feel the way your fingers relax against his skin when you find that the Mark is nowhere to be seen. Seeing his bare arm brings him great relief as well, even though he’s seen it this way every day since its removal.
“They removed it when we got to Azkaban,” He explains quietly. “They thought we could communicate through it or something.”
Your thumb trails up and down his skin in the same area the Mark had been. Theo’s eyes are glued to the motion, following your movements.
“That night haunted me for years.”
Your words send a chill up his spine so intense that he can’t hide the shiver that ripples through him. Swallowing hard, his eyes jump back to your face, studying your features.
“Me too.”
The sound of the crickets chirping fills the night air, along with the very distant music coming from the manor. Your eyes find Theo’s again, although your hand doesn’t let go of his arm.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” You say, voice quiet, yet not quite a whisper. “If I had known what was about to happen, and that it could’ve been our last interaction, I wouldn’t have acted the way I did.”
“If anyone should be sorry, it should be me.”
You give him a look.
“Please. Don’t. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now.”
Theo glances down at your hand on his arm, pulling away so he can in turn take your fingers in his. The two of you look down as Theo turns your fingers around in his hands, as if he’s examining them.
“If you knew then what was about to happen…” You asked slowly. “What would you have done differently?”
Theo’s face grows warm.
“Honestly?”
Though his gaze stays cast downwards, he can still feel the warmth of yours as it jumps to his face once more.
“Always.”
For a moment, no one moves or speaks. Then, Theo entwines his fingers through the spaces between yours, curling them down so the tips press softly against the dorsal aspect of your hand.
“I would’ve kissed you.”
If your breath didn’t hitch in your throat, Theo would think you didn’t react at all. He glances back up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his thumb running up and down the smooth skin of your hand. What a perfect night for a party, the night of the full moon. The moonlight dimly hits your face but it’s still enough to make his heart flutter.
“I would’ve let you.”
It takes everything in Theo to not kiss you right there. The moment he has been waiting all these years for is finally here, dropped in his lap. But he can only kiss you for the first time once, and it has to be perfect.
Theo glances down at your mouth. It’s just a moment away, and he’s counting down the seconds.
“I would’ve told you that I was in love with you too.”
The shock breaks through your face this time, as Theo squeezes your hand a little tighter.
“I would’ve said the same.”
Nights of dreaming of this moment in his Azkaban cell seem to fill his memory as your words hit Theo like a monsoon. He raises his free hand and brushes the free strands of hair away from your face.
“What about now?” He asks in a soothing whisper. “Would you say the same now?” What shocks him is when you laugh, but he tries not to let it falter his resolve.
“Theo,” You say, the laughter gone but the genuine look of amusement still present. “Why do you think I needed a placeholder?”
A beat passes.
Theo’s lips crash into yours.
And despite having been out of Azkaban for a while now, despite his reunion with his sanctuary at Malfoy Manor, he’s finally, completely, come home.
Every repressed feeling Theo has ever felt in the last decade is surged through the kiss and into you. All of his desperation, his yearning, the fiery love that never got snuffed out. It felt like his heart just knew that he’d see you again, and the love he felt was carefully packed away in a box, left to grow until the reunion had arrived.
The cigarette you had been holding is now forgotten on the pathway. Your hands weave through Theo’s hair as he has one hand on your cheek, the other firmly placed on your hip. The world around you and him is still. Did the crickets go home? Is the party over? All sounds have gone mute, minus the sounds of your quiet hums as Theo’s tongue searches your mouth. You scoot closer to him, your knee going between his in an effort to get as close to him as possible.
“Fucking despicable this is.”
Theo and you jump away from each other, shocked to see Mattheo approaching with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“Out of everyone in this party, you pick him?” He goes on. “In my opinion, you could do better.”
You scoff.
“Name one person that you’ve ever met who you thought was good enough for me and I’ll chew my wrist off.”
Almost a whole minute passes before Mattheo speaks again.
“Touché.”
Theo bites back a smile. You point at Mattheo before saying, “Wait a minute. You said you don’t smoke anymore!”
Mattheo shrugs as he blows a plume of smoke into the air.
“This party killed that.”
“You arsehole. You gave me such a hard time for doing it.”
“Your excuse was a bloody weak one. ‘I miss the smell’. Shut the fuck up.”
“Forgive me for missing my brother and wanting to feel close to him!”
Mattheo’s gaze slides to Theo, then down to his fingers entwined with yours.
“Yeah. I’m sure you were thinking of me when you
took your first drag.”
You roll your eyes, turning back to Theo as you try and fail to hide the smile on your cheeks. Just the sight of you alone was sending Theo’s heart into overdrive.
Mattheo plops down in the space next to you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Just try to give it some time before you rush off and get married, yeah?” Mattheo says before taking another hit. “Don't come off desperate like our lovely hosts in there.”
“Oh, you’re actually going to keep your mouth shut about me being with a guy this time?” You challenge him. Even Theo looks at his best friend curiously, semi shocked by his response.
“Yeah, I don’t have the energy to give a rat’s fart.”
Your hand still in Theo’s, he feels you give his a squeeze.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His heart flutters.
He knows what you’re saying without a single word passing your lips.
He repeats the gesture back to you.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Mattheo and you continue to go back and forth as Theo sits by quietly, his thumb stroking the top of your hand. Eyes fluttering closed, he takes a deep breath, soaking in the cool evening air.
This is it.
Home at last.
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arcanewhoosh ¡ 2 months ago
Note
Could you right a story where jinx’s S/O is scared of bombs or loud things in general and one of jinx bombs went off scaring S/O and jinx comforts them.
So I forgot that the inbox was a thing and found this two years after you asked for it. Sorry lmao.
I think I completely failed this cause I chose season 1 Jinx and hooboy Season 2 Jinx would've been a better choice.
Also this went over 2k words I realize I may be a yapper.
The Monsters We Allow
2k words (Jesus this wasn't supposed to be this long)
Proofread? Y/N
TW: Descriptions of injuries
You're no stranger to the hazards of working for the Eye of Zaun. Even the more hardened residents of the Undercity oftentimes couldn't stomach some of the work the job entailed, more so the people involved in those jobs.
So now here you were, helping build an explosive device of some sort. Fishbones Jinx had called it. You guess that you should add assistant weapons maker to the long list of jobs you've held working for Silco over the years. It wasn't always like this, though.
You started out as cleanup crew, showing up after fights. You didn't want to at first, but if you crossed Silco, you'd most definitely cross his daughter, Jinx. If you crossed his daughter, then it was almost a certainty that you would end up in pieces and puddles on the walls and floors. You'd rather be the one cleaning than be the one being cleaned up. So you put your head down and went along with it.
It was messy work, but it turns out even with all the fucked up things tolerated in the Undercity, rotting body parts weren't one of them. It wasn't pretty, and your first few days you had to include your vomit in the list of things you had to clean up. Eventually, though, you got over it, got better. Well enough that Silco would only trust you to do cleanups of whichever unfortunate soul was on the receiving end of Jinx's chompers. You could figure out which weapon was used to do what, what the direction of the splatter on the wall or floor meant. You could look at a scene once and replay how the entire fight went.
The job wasn't pretty, not at all, but it put money in your pockets, good money. It put food on your table and clothes on your back. Most importantly, it gave you security. A blanket of protection that ensured people would think twice to cross you. Silco only kept a select few on constant contract. Sure, you didn't run around beating the shit out of people during collections, or blowing them up. You didn't have a robot arm or guns-choice of weapon was bucket and shovel-- but hey, you were deeper in his inner circle than most people.
Eventually, he started bringing you along to meetings. After those meetings, he'd ask you, What's the quickest, and cleanest way we can get rid of this person?
It was jarring at first, being asked how to kill someone. But whatever reservations you had about becoming a murder consultant was heavily outweighed by your fear of being the one consulted about. So you'd answer diligently, if a little hesitantly. The first time you answered, he had looked pleasantly surprised. As if getting recommendations on assassination was pleasant. You remembered thinking.
It didn't take long for people of the Undercity to associate your presence in these tag-alongs with the sudden death of whoever you and Silco were visiting. Whispers about how you wouldn't even talk during the meetings, how you'd sit and simply look around. If you were addressed by the person you were meeting with, Silco would politely redirect their attention back to him. Sometimes, sometimes, that person wouldn't die. Silco once credited it to you, that people suddenly became more pliable once he brought you along. Another blanket of security. People started treating you differently, more respect, fear maybe. It was a little funny, how typically aggressive brutes would become the politest people towards someone who had just barely reached the age of eighteen.
One day, Silco had asked you to his office. You thought it would just be regular stop before another meeting, standard procedure by then, really. But that day he had another guest in his office. The blue braids were already a dead giveaway, but you still politely introduced yourself.  She laughed, and identified you as The one who ruins my fun because she had to follow your instructions when Silco needed her to get rid of people.
You knew back then that she was dangerous. Quite frankly, she scared the shit out of you. You didn't have a problem with seeing dead bodies and parts, sure. But she was younger than you, and already had no qualms about taking lives. She was the one leaving behind entrails that you had to clean up. And apparently, she was now to be occasionally under your watch. Silco thought you'd be a good fit for a companion. Around the same age, he had said.
You kept a respectful distance from her, but she unfortunately grew fond of you and decided to keep you around more often than not. Silco didn't see anything wrong with it, if anything it made the both of you more notorious. His Loose Cannon and his Harbinger of Death. A deadly combination in theory, but in practice, it was mostly you having to accompany Jinx for her less dangerous - there were still casualties - pranks, and bailing her out of sticky situations.
And now here you were, two years later, making a launcher with her- making was a generous word, more handing her stuff - and getting ready to probably blow more people up.
You feel your stomach begin to unsettle again. You were used to seeing dead bodies, parts of bodies, what was left of bodies. But never in the stretch of time that you had worked for Silco, had you ever had to see dying. You always showed up after. It had only been two days since the explosion at the bridge, but somehow Jinx was walking around as if nothing had even happened to her. As if she didn't blow herself up the last time you had seen her. If you were making an educated guess based off of her eyes, you'd say she was hurt and got pumped full of shimmer; or maybe she was just living off of pure mania at this point.
You've cared for her, but now you also care about her. It seems that no matter how much respectful distance you put between yourself and her, propinquity eventually came into play, and affection followed. And the only sense you had was to go along with it.
It took you a while to get used to being around her. She was temperamental, to say the least. But you eventually learned not to ask any questions about her family, not to bring up the dolls she kept at her place, and avoid asking any questions at all about her past. If she wanted to, she'd tell you. The only time she wasn't unpredictable was when she was tinkering away at her little station, blasting her music.
She was calm, placated, almost normal. If you had never met her before and had seen her then, you would have thought she was beautiful. Not that she isn't, it's just that her reputation tended to precede all her other perceivable qualities. More than all of this, she was vulnerable. Her back turned to you, not a care in the world if you wandered around touching things. You realize now that it was in those moments probably that your affection for the girl grew. All of a sudden, getting her out of unideal predicaments included treating her wounds; then nursing her back to health if she was sick; staying over when she had nightmares. And yet you were still cautious, careful not to trip on some invisible wire that would trigger her temper.
"Whoops-"
A bang, a clattering of tools, and you're back at the bridge. Back at looking at screaming people, crawling on the ground because their legs had been blown clean off, some with limbs partially attached, some falling off, someone trying to feel where half of their face had gone. All moving, breathing, alive.
"Easy there, jelly legs." You look up to meet Jinx's eyes. Once a soft powder blue, now striking orbs of red violet. She's holding onto you. At some point you had lost your balance and was now kneeling on the floor, one hand on the side of Jinx's desk for support. "You sick or somethin'?" She asks.
"Sorry," You breathe out. "I think… I think I'm still reeling from what happened at the bridge."
She lets out a laugh. Loud, boisterous, manic.
"The bridge? The little ol' light show? You didn't like it?" Her smile falls, and she cocks her head to the side. Fuck.
Now you're on thin ice. "No, no. It was nice." You quickly say, shaking your head. "It's just, I'm not- I'm not used to seeing the before part, you know?"
She guffaws. "Wait, wait, wait." She stands, walking over to her desk littered with metal scraps and remnants of her previous projects, picking up one of the butterfly robots she had made. "You're telling me-" She plucks off a wing, the remaining one flapping aimlessly. "You" Points it at you. "Who's in charge of cleaning up exploded bodies, and telling Silco - who tells me - how to kill someone without a mess," Plucks off the other wing and throws the body away. "Gets queasy over a few blue bellies kicking the bucket?"
You take a breath to steady yourself. "I don't know. I never- I never thought about that part. I've never had to see it."  You unconsciously start clenching and unclenching you hand not holding onto the desk. A nervous habit, one that you tried to shake off. A habit that Jinx had taken note of the first few months of her dragging you along with her escapades.
"I'm sorry." You say after a few beats of silence.
In one quick flash - too quick, inhumanly quick - Jinx is kneeling again in front of you, cupping your face in her hands.  "Hey now, it's alright." Her tone is soft, caring, tragically comforting to you. "We all got our little quirks. I sure do."
She frees up one of her hands to brush your hair back. "Come to think of it, I think that was the first time you had to see something like that, huh?"
It always astounds you how quickly she can disarm the guard you put up for her. You know she's dangerous, you know you should be cautious. But a few sweet words from her and you're putty in her hands, completely at her mercy. You wonder if it's normal to love and fear someone at the same time.
"We'll be okay." She presses her forehead against yours. "I've got you, like you've got me." You nod.
"You can handle helping me with one more thing, right?" There it is. "We just need to do this one teeny thing, and then we can chill out."
You put in active effort to keep your breathing steady. Your stomach still in knots. "What thing?"
She grins. "A dinner party. You're my co-host." She pulls you up with her as she stands, leading you over to where she was working, where Fishbones was seemingly complete. "Wanna see something cool?"
You nod, and she fishes out the HexTech gemstone she had stolen during Progress Day. She opens up a slot near the handle and inserts the gemstone, Fishbones immediately lighting up, a blue hue illuminating her dark room. You contemplate asking her about her new weapon, weighing out the pros and cons. But the fact that her hand was still holding yours, her thumb idly grazing your knuckles was enough to encourage you.
"What are you gonna do with this?"
She runs her free hand above the clear panel where the gemstone is. "We're gonna go make a point."
The rational part of your brain is telling you to stay behind, that whatever this was, being in the vicinity of a HexTech-powered weapon was not a good idea. But this was Jinx, and she had already decided that you were coming with her. Incurring her wrath now, also in the vicinity of the HexTech-powered weapon, was not a good idea either.
So you do what you do best, and go along with it.
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heartseungs-archive ¡ 5 months ago
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lucky strike | l.dh
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word count: 2.3k | genre: arcade employee! haechan, high school au, (sort of?) f2l, mc and hc are very cute | warnings: none
Haechan notices you the moment you step foot into the arcade. After all, it’s not every day that his crush walks into his workplace, unaccompanied and teary-eyed. You stick out like a sore thumb amongst the neon red and blues of the pinball machines, pristine white shoes thudding against the cement floor which hasn’t been cleaned in years.
He hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to you much, considering the both of you are in entirely different social circles. However, he does know you’re a responsible class representative and someone who never hesitates to greet him with a smile in the morning, which he shyly returns. His friends have teased him endlessly for the way he seemingly becomes mute when you approach, his cheeks always heating up. Haechan is extroverted, but he supposes even he becomes withdrawn in the presence of your warmth and friendliness.
Which is why the unfamiliar sight of you crying immediately sends a pang to his heart, but he’s not entirely sure how to approach you without making the situation become uncomfortable. You likely want solitude, and it’s the least Haechan can do to let you have it, both as a well-behaved employee and an almost-friend.
It’s a quiet weekday at the arcade, and Haechan’s eyes follow you as you move from the token machine to a few different games, until you finally settle on the fishing one. Throughout, your expression remains unchanged, even though you occasionally sniffle slightly.
Fuck it, Haechan thinks. Before he knows it, he’s made his way over to you, and he knows how clear the difference is between the both of you. While Haechan wouldn’t call himself a delinquent, he’s definitely not the model student you are. He’s had one or two tardies this semester, and his red Converse is definitely not in line with attire rules. Still, you light up at the sight of him, a wobbly smile making its way onto your face.
“Oh, Haechan-ah. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Haechan wants to say that your appearance here is even more unexpected, but instead, he rubs the back of his head nervously. “I work here.” Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ of understanding, and he can’t help but think it’s one of the cutest things he’s seen.
“You shouldn’t play at the same seat. You’ll have a higher chance of winning if you switch the player more often,” Haechan blurts out. He’s afraid of allowing the silence to become too awkward, and so he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously.
You raise your eyebrows at that. “Really? I didn’t think it made a difference. Thankfully you work here. Do you want to sit and play with me?”
“Huh?” Haechan’s eyes widen, slightly taken aback. You’re asking him?
“Sorry, I forgot that you must be busy considering you work here. Please don’t let me disturb you.” Your cheeks are red from slight embarrassment, and you’re mentally kicking yourself for even making that ridiculous request. He must have just wanted to say hello. Now you’ve put him in a spot, Y/N.
He shakes his head fervently, so hard that it startles you. “No, I’m not busy at all. I’d love to. Besides, if I play with you, we can get more tickets.” Haechan immediately pulls a chair over, and you pass him your stack of tokens. The both of you play a few games, enough for you to realize that Haechan is much better at this than you are.
However, when you remark on his skills, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I used to play this every day when I was a kid.” Your eyes widen, and you grin a little. “Really? Me too!”
“Well, you’re quite bad at it for someone who says she plays often,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. ‘Okay, whatever you say.”
It’s interesting how rapidly your mood lightened the moment Haechan appeared, a wide smile on your face compared to your previously glum expression.
He clears his throat then, eyes shifting around. “What is it?” You ask, looking around as well.
“I just…sorry. This might be a bit too nosy of me. You don’t have to reply or anything. But your eyes were a little red when you came in. Are you alright?” The genuine concern in Haechan’s voice is surprising to you, considering the nature of your acquaintance. However, his doe-brown eyes are earnest as they stare into yours, and you find your gaze escaping to your feet, which tap on the floor nervously out of habit.
A small laugh escapes you, and you nod. “Yeah. It was just a bad argument with my parents. You know how it is. I just came here because I needed a distraction.” Haechan nods, sympathizing with your situation. If anything, he finds his fondness for you growing. The way that you’re so kind and welcoming to everyone at school, and to him, even if you’re having a bad day.
“Well, feel free to drop by whenever. Though preferably on weekdays, since that’s when I work. The other guy, Jaemin, is really strict about tickets. I’ll throw in freebies for you though.”
Haechan’s words allow your smile to grow even brighter, and he feels a sense of pride in seeing the way your shoulders gradually become less sunken and a familiar twinkle returning to your eye.
Suddenly, he gets up from where he’s sitting, causing your eyes to fix curiously on him.
“I’ve got a place to show you. Come on.” You immediately get up to follow after Haechan, who winds past the claw machines and basketball hoops to a more isolated part of the arcade.
A faded wooden sign dangles above the capsule machines, neatly lined up in rows . The light barely reaches this side of the arcade, and Haechan turns on a lightbulb that flickers precariously in the smaller space. Compared to the almost-deafening noises outside, this feels almost therapeutic in some way.
“MBTI Fortunes? I haven’t seen this in a while,” you mutter in mild surprise.
“This is one of my favourite sections. Try it.” You immediately head over to the roller machine and turn the knob, stainless metal cool against your fingers. Barely seconds later, the familiar sight of a red ball rolling gently down the chute enters your vision, before it lands neatly in your hand.
You tilt your head towards Haechan. “You try it too,” you say, smiling. So he’s an ENFP, you think, as he walks over. It makes sense, you suppose. Haechan’s definitely extroverted from the way he acts with his friends, and he’s constantly the center of attention. If anything, you wish you had more of his effortless confidence. There’s no way you could ever approach someone like he did. But you’re impossibly grateful for his presence.
“Should we open it?” He says, throwing the red ball up and catching it smoothly as he makes his way back over to you.
It takes a while, but the both of you eventually manage to twist the capsule open, unrolling the tiny folded piece of paper. Haechan holds it up to the light, squinting to read the writing.
“Take a chance. It just might be a lucky strike,” he mutters, humming in thought.
However, your voice rings out much clearer than his and causes Haechan to pause. “A heart-fluttering event will happen to you today.” You clear your throat nervously, cheeks immediately reddening. Right now, there’s only one person in mind, and he’s standing right in front of you.
“Ah…don’t get too bothered by it. These are all just random anyways.” Haechan is perturbed by the slight stutter in his voice, the way his pulse is speeding up, and how he’s unable to look at you for too long. It’s just because you’re pretty, he thinks. It’s not good to look at pretty people for too long, or his ego will be hurt.
When the both of you make your way back to the main area of the arcade, the silence becomes awkward, but it’s an almost endearing sight. You fiddle with your fingers, but you’re unaware of the fact that Haechan is the exact same.
“Well, thank you for today. That was fun. I should let you get back to work. I’ll see you in school?” You mumble, a faint smile on your face. Haechan nods eagerly. “Yeah. I'll see you.” He wonders if he’ll be able to strike up the same conversation in school. He thinks this is the longest time he's ever interacted with you, and he hopes it isn’t the last.
Haechan can’t help but feel slightly forlorn as he watches you make your way towards the exit of the arcade, red capsule ball in hand. His work is going to feel much longer without your presence. His eyes inevitably drift to the piece of paper that he, for some mysterious reason, hasn't yet thrown away. Take a chance, it says. Haechan's a spontaneous person. The most spontaneous one he knows, actually. Still, he finds it a bit hard to make rash decisions when it comes to you. Maybe it’s because your work is written in neat, clean lines while his is more of a legible scribble. Or that your stationery is neatly categorized in the same color while Haechan’s is more of a haphazard rainbow.
Still, he hopes you’ll accept the slightly disorganized mess that is him.
“Jaemin’s going to kill me for this,” he complains, as he makes his way towards the area containing all of the redeemable prizes. Still, he thinks it’s a worthy tradeoff, facing the wrath of the grumpy blue-haired man who acts like he’s so much older than Haechan when he’s just a college student.
You’re just about to turn a street when you hear the thundering of footsteps on cobblestone behind you, and you’re quick to turn around, alarmed. Haechan almost crashes into you, out of breath and face flushed.
“Haechan? Is something wrong?” There is evident alarm on your face, and Haechan shakes his head vehemently. Just then, you look down at what he’s holding in his hands and let out a slight laugh.
“Did you run all the way here…for this?” You ask.
“Yeah. It’s…for you.” Haechan extends out the Cinnamoroll plushie to you, an expression of anticipation on his face. You take it from him, smoothing your hand over its fluffy ears. A certain sense of warmth fills you. Maybe this was the heart-fluttering event the paper mentioned. Because you’re quite sure that your pulse is now fluttering wildly as you look at Haechan.
“Thank you. But how did you get it? I definitely didn’t have enough tickets for this.” There's a curious glint in your eyes, and Haechan lets out a little scoff.
“Well, I have some benefits as an arcade employee, I suppose,” he says nonchalantly. What he doesn't tell you is that he's now in crippling debt to Jaemin, and will likely spend much more money winning the tickets to pay it off than if he just bought you the plushie.
Seeing the radiant smile on your face only encourages Haechan to make another rash decision. Maybe he’ll fall flat on his face, but he wants to at least try.
“My shift ends in an hour. I know a really good tteokbokki place,” he says, the words coming out of him in a rush, and then realises the abruptness of his statement.
You smirk slightly, and it’s an unfamiliar expression to Haechan to see you so playful, but he doesn’t mind it at all.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Your confidence is sudden, but you find that it comes more easily with Haechan around.
“It can be one. If you want it to be,” Haechan replies immediately. His gaze is much more determined now, and you’re almost intimidated by it. But you refuse to back down, especially when this is everything you’ve ever wanted.
“Okay. It’s a date.” You can’t hide your smile when you say it, and immediately saunter back in the direction of the arcade. Haechan, who still can’t wrap his head about the reality of the situation, automatically follows you. His crush agreed to go on a date with him. You, Y/N, model student and the girl who Haechan thinks has the most beautiful smile he's ever seen in his life, has agreed to eat tteokbokki with him. It's a small start, but a start nonetheless.
“Wait, actually? Also, why are you going back to the arcade?” He asks, confused.
You hold up the soft toy, not even looking back. “Apparently, someone’s in debt. I should return the favor, right?” Oh fuck, I said that out loud. You don’t bother to reply his first question, and Haechan’s quite sure he looks rather ridiculous with how big his smile is.
When the both of you are back, you immediately make a beeline for the fishing game again, looking even more committed to it than previously. The soft toy is placed gently in your lap, and you occasionally hug it unconsciously. Haechan's heartbeat has finally slowed down from it's breakneck pace, but he thinks the fondness he feels at the sight of you is an even more exhilarating feeling.
You’re his lucky strike, he thinks, and he'll gladly take as many chances as needed for you.
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fuxuannie ¡ 2 years ago
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↳ pairing : miles morales x reader
↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)
↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)
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MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.
After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.
"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.
"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"
You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."
The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.
However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.
"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."
Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"
Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"
Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.
Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.
"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.
"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.
At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.
The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.
You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.
"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"
The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.
"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"
The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.
That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.
"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.
You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.
You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.
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bump1nthen1ght ¡ 8 months ago
Text
Between the Neon (Male!Android x AFAB!Reader)
Pairing: AFAB!Reader x Male!Robot
Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut
Word Count: 1714 words
Warning: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)
Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.
Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)
A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!
Link to AMAB!Reader is Here!
After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.
You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.
“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue fucks against your g-spot. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”
Axel had learned on his second visit that your pussy was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human vulva after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.
“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your mound, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his head, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, your juices running down his chin. He laps them up like a dog, always desperate for another taste.
You have to pull him away from your cunt, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.
What a cutie.
You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.
“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.
“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.
You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 
“O-o-oh stars!”
His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and fondling your tits, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowgirl and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.
“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.
That's what inspired you tonight.
You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your pussy lips and spread them wide open. 
“Come here, baby.”
Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.
Good boy.
“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.
“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.
“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety walls hold him tight, his nodes rubbing as he his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.
“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 
Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and between your pussy lips, sloshing together with skin and wiring.
“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel's tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.
“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.
“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 
Your pussy walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.
“No, baby. I want it.”
A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 
“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”
You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”
There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.
He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as pulls you back onto his cock.
“Ok, now pull out a bit.”
Big globs of coolant drop down your pussy and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shale against your skin.
“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”
Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your g-spot, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.
“Again.” 
Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.
“Again, faster.”
Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.
“Yes, just like that.”
Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.
“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.
“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily find your g-spot with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.
“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your cunt on his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reach your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.
“Slap my ass!”
This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.
“Fuck!” Your pussy milks him for all his worth. Axels digits rub across the handprint do doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”
Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.
Speaking of which-
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”
“Inside, creampie me!”
It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your pussy, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs. Your skin feels like it's on fire.
“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam for  his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”
An explosion of cum bursts in your cunt, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and pussy flexing onto Axel’s cock.
The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 
It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.
“That was….awesome.”
Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.
Yup, definitely one of your favorites.
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seventhcallisto ¡ 1 year ago
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Chapter VI — "lips & hips."
Deep down.
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Toc/cw: mdni!!!!!!!!! MATURE CONTENT!! Kissing. Cuddling. Unprotected shower sex(don't worry, men have unrealistic birth control). Fingering. Biting. Knotting. Grinding/humping. Orgasm w/o penentration(?) Idk how to cw. Orgasms x2(f. Receiving) hwa is a moaner and loud. Overestimming. Slight ooc hwa. Seonghwa is a hard dom for 00.2 sentences. slight angst. Crying. Love confession sort of. Fluff. I probably forgot some (I'll check later).
Pet names/nns: angel, mega, omega(yours) hwa(seonghwas) joongie(hongjoongs)
Wc: 12.3k
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The Morning is already tiring, you're a jelly mess as seonghwa helps guide you to the bathroom. You're hardly carrying yourself as soon as you cross the threshold of your door, exhausted and spent.
Your legs ache and seonghwa mentions how they have to stop putting your knees over their shoulders so you aren't so sore. How the hell does he know? Seonghwas hands guide your hips, pushing you forward. You stop to watch wooyoung beg to be let pass,
Yunho leans against it to block you from view like some type of bodyguard. The sight is sorrowful and funny, wooyoung is begging and as an older member, yunho has the upper hand. Seonghwa is urging your wobbly legs forward before you can say anything.
Finally you're standing at the base of the wide tub, watching a pink bath bomb dissolve. The glass doors are slid to the side so you can step inside. Petals floating to the surface as the water turns a soft pink. It's cute. Your smile captures seonghwas fancy.
“Yeosang put that in,” he hums, closing the door. Of course he did, yeosang is your squishy love bug. From years of sharing hotel rooms and bathroom routines that consist of you two brushing your teeth at the sink and wearing face masks.
You, teaching him about how your products work for your own skin compared to his. He already knew but his small smile as he watches you explain tells you he didn't mind listening. You smile at the memory of it all, the isolated heating keeps all the warm air in. You're beginning to sweat at how hot it is in the bathroom.
Seonghwa decides to help you strip, of course, he loves playing caretaker. He asks before he does- having you sit on the edge of the tub while he tilts your hips up to slide off the briefs. You groan at the twist. More sore from the angle. A sorry smile stretches across seonghwas features, tossing the briefs in the dirty laundry basket.
You have half a mind to be embarrassed, but your shirt somehow falls over your areas and blocks him from looking. Just as you realize your shirt needs to come off next. So sudden, your stomach is twisting intensely, the feeling is familiar. But not so much so you realize what it is.
Seonghwa bends down in front of you, you don't move, you hardly make a sound. He tilts your chin up towards him with his pointer finger to get you to notice him. Leaning his hands on either side of you, against the tub. “I can leave if that's what you want.” He says sincerely. You shake your head quickly. His scent pushes out to calm you.
And for some reason you now feel completely bendable to whatever he wants you to do. You know that feeling. When you got it with yunho and even as soon as hongjoong made it obvious what he wanted.
Your hands reach out to grab him, pulling him close. Before you realize what you're doing, your mouth is attached to his neck, just resting there for a moment. Hands kneading and twisting into his hair pass the dark locks. Seonghwa laughs gently. His pulse thumping where your lips meet. He twists his arms behind your back. letting you know he's there, even when your scent begins to shift and grow heavier.
When it gets sweeter and leaves him swallowing thickly. And just for a minute you calm down at him being there. Calm down when his neck is latched between your lips like a leech. You place a kiss on the spot after unhooking from it. You don't want to let go of seonghwa. So, as a way to say that, you wrap your arms around his neck. Holding him for a moment.
He lets you, and God- does it make your heart skip. Seonghwa, who usually pushes away any super affectionate touching, is letting you latch onto him like some touch starved girl. Which, you feel as if you are for the moment. His embrace eases that feeling. Tough and soft at the same time.
“I love you” you mumble, sincerity dripping off your words. He hums, rubbing his thumb up and down on your back. “I love you” he inhales softly as he pulls back, your hands strain to let him go. He looks you in the eyes so deeply, you have a hard time not feeling the sincerity of them. “I love you more” you grin. Giddy. He laughs gently, a soothing sound.
He doesn't argue, but he has a look that tells you he loves you the most. Lovesick and sweet, if his eyes could. They'd be heart shaped whenever he looks at you. He helps you take off your shirt, playing with the tip of it to avoid peeping. You subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself.
It's not that you're shy being naked. Actually. Yes, it's exactly that. Wearing revealing stage outfits and performing in front of millions is nothing when you're naked in front of seonghwa. He's the only eyes you care about at the moment. Yet he doesn't seem to care about your nakedness. Tossing your shirt away with the briefs. He turns back to you. “Want me to wash your hair?”
You almost laugh at the innocence of it. Your face lights up instead. “Yes please” he helps you step in, telling you to lean on him for guidance. You watch seonghwa take a seat outside the bathtub. His knees must ache from the hard floor. Frowning, you pull your knees to your chest. “Aren't you getting in?” You swirl the petals around, they follow in sporadic patterns after your fingertips.
It's photographic, you look very imaginary to seonghwa, eyes wide with that sparkle, beckoning him to join you. If he's the sexiest member, then you're the most ethereal. He blinks, once, then twice. The question is odd but he wants to indulge you. “no- I'm getting in” he breathily says, quickly. He nods to hide it, gulping back the lump in his throat.
Close proximity like this makes his heart skip. You aren't usually so needy for affection. Seonghwa has known that about you for years. Yet, you want him as close. It's intimate. It's strange. But, he loves you. So he doesn't care if you'll be embarrassed about it later. He likes when you're needy. He knows you're still in a different mindset. A mindset that's almost truth-inducing. Letting your thoughts come to the surface and have light shed on them.
He strips his black shirt off first. Neatly, he folds it and lays it off to the side of the counter. Back turned towards you. Any jewelry, which has already been taken off earlier from cooking. He hears the slap of the water as you move, turning and swishing the water around with your body.
As soon as he's done unbuttoning his pants and stripping everything. He's lowering himself into the spot across from you. The water is hot, not burning, but soothingly hot. You've turned away from him to give him decency.
“Hand me the shampoo” he tells you. You do as he says, leaning up to grab it on the edge. It's an inexpensive but very trustworthy brand, not really scented. Your fingers caress as you hand it to him over your shoulder. “Should I wash yours?” You ask.
Seonghwa looks up from the lather on his hands to the back of your head. “I washed my hair this morning,” he hums. Fingers threading through the top of your scalp to bubble the shampoo. Your eyebrows furrow.
“Why did you get in with me then?” You say back. Now you wonder why you even asked him to join you. Heat of the moment? You can't see it but he's smiling at your pouty tone. “‘Cause you asked” he answers, his forehead creasing as he focuses on working his fingers through your hair, rubbing the base of your neck. You shudder, pulling your knees closer. A reactive thing.
“You didn't have too” you huff, leaning your head back towards him when he pulls gently to spread it through the top of your head. He stands up to grab the showerhead from his side of the bathtub. “I wanted to,” he simply says. Your heart leaps. Heat creeping to your ears, should that even affect you that much?.. no. It really shouldn't. You're sharing a bath together. You jump at the sound of running water.
You're in the bath. Together. Seonghwa leans the shower head against your hair. It's not hot, a bit cold, you know it's because he didn't want to burn you. You shiver at the coldness. The squeak of the knob protests as seonghwa turns it warmer. Ever so keen on your reactions, so very attentive.
The prickle of tears pokes the corner of your eyes. Now you feel- well, you're crying. Why, though? You don't really know. You don't think you've ever been this doted on- Don't know the last time someone took care of you. Rather than you taking care of yourself. Actually. You don't know the last time you let someone take care of you.
Yes, how could you be so dull. Many times, your members have tried. And jongho? He's so obvious about it. You've got idols coming up to ask you if you're dating based on the attention he shows you. He wants to take care of you so badly. He takes your baggage at the airport but stops when you say no.
He gives you his jacket whenever he has one. Even letting you hang back with him instead of participating, lets you lean on him when you're anxious before an interview. He lets you get your way. Let's you use his card even when you have your own, so adamant about proving he can take care of it.
And yunho, you can't forget him dropping everything to help you, can't forget he willingly came to see you and stopped your clingy ex from making a scene, even made you laugh to cheer you up. You obviously can't forget the way he looks at you like you're the world and everything great about it. And he even buys you food when he gets his own, tells you all the time he just got extra.
Who claims his spot next to you any place and time you have to sit for interviews, said so because he likes how it makes you look so small. Maybe you really are delusional- and Hongjoong. You love joong so much. From many nights spent together working until dawn on songs and repeating lines.
To being the only trainees in the entire company, two trainees who didn't speak the same language, and yet still finding a way to communicate. For years together. You know he works hard, knows he doesn't have to see you every morning before he checks out to the studio.
But he does anyway. You know he's got a lot on his shoulders, yet he still makes time to check up on you. Include you in his projects. Lets you listen to all of his demos. Takes your feedback to heart. Encourages you to get a producer tag. Goes as far as to give you any of his passwords so you can use his production aquitment.
Even buying clothes he knows you like the texture of just so your hands cling to him more. You're beginning to realize the same goes for yeosang, purposefully leaving his hoodies around so you wear them and smell like him. Even that first moment yeosang looked at you wearing his shirt after he asked you too, his sharp eyes clouding.
You realize none of them had asked that before. Was it because they were too scared to ask you? You have always been private with your affections before lately, it had been drilled into you not too. Somehow, yeosang was the first person to ask and he never mentioned it again, never hinted at anything about you wearing his clothes ever.
Now, he's much more touchy and vocal. His pretty mouth always complimenting you under his breath. Eyes always scanning your features when you passionately talk. Letting you hold his hands and never pulls away. You don't know if the sudden change was because of your assigned sex but you believe he just got more comfortable knowing you're okay with it, knowing you're reciprocating it.
With all of them being there. And you are. You're finally able to let someone else take care of you.
And even lately. Mingi is so clingy, you love that type of attention even if you don't say it. Mingi who has given you space because the guys told him he's too rough, who's waiting his turn patiently- when you know he's so eager and never ever patient. Mingi, when he gets food and gives you the first bite.
In your comments every live you do with atiny. Pokes and prods for any type of affection and praise. Uses his aegyo to get whatever he wants from you. Says he'd marry you because you're a full package and you take care of him well. His words, unprovoked.
When asked to choose between all the members. He said your name asap. When stranded on an island. He said he'd take you. And, you find that hilarious, cause he could have taken anything else, water, a boat, food, a way to get out, but he said he'd take you.
San, you'd never forget how he follows you backstage everywhere. Whines whenever you spend too much time with another idol. Clings to you when you're getting your face done because he knows you can't shrug him off, or you'll mess up your makeup.
When he stares at you, and it's so often, you have to tell him to stop before someone gets the wrong impression. When San ‘accidently’ scares other idols off because well- he's built compared to how he was when he was a couple of ages ago. When not long ago he wasn't able to pick you up, and now he does it whenever he wants too. And you let him cause his grip is so tight and his smile is so big you can't help but give in.
Not excluding how he acts up on stage, or during your parts together, he can't get that sly grin off his face, or won't stop staring at your lips when you're singing- or rapping right in front of him.
Aswell as when wooyoung clings to you, wraps his strong arms around you and doesn't let you go until you give him what he wants. Says you're his soulmate, even when you mention yeosang or san, he says you're his other half, and he can't live in a world with only half of himself.
Even happily leans in to almost kiss you in front of a crowd just because you pouted at him. Begs for your attention when you don't respond to his questions, even if he said it two seconds prior. Literally can't breathe without you in his proximity sometimes.
His words, not yours, he said it so boldly behind the scenes you two had together. Like it was nothing. Woo, who you know watches your solo fancams. Cause you caught him once. And the only thing he said was “I'm supporting my girl friend” grinning so proudly and pretended he didn't hint at the connotation behind it. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman” you'd casually say, shutting the door and cutting off any more communication.
Wow, for the first time in years. Maybe you're realizing they haven't sought you out —even though they love you— because you were pushing them away. Not giving them the time of day and continuously denying their affections. You did notice, but maybe you pretended it wasn't true. Didn't think you could have a happy ending with them if you went through with it. But they're here, and they're even telling you they love you, they've been telling you. because they do, they love you.
Seonghwa is proving that to you right now. Feeding you, bathing you, caressing you, letting you hug on him so much so you know wooyoung would be jealous. Taking care of you. Seonghwa pulls his hand back from your scalp, the sorrowful smell is coming from you and he's starting to rapidly think he did something wrong. His hand lands on your shoulder, his head peeking past your hair as he bends forward, water sloshes when he does so.
“What's wrong?” He says so sweetly, your tears begin to flow the most now. You hate crying, why do you do it so much nowadays? “Nothing, I'm just- I'm happy” you huff out, swiping at your tears as you lean your head back on his shoulder. “Oh Angel,” he coos, grabbing your chin, his thumb rubs a soothing stripe, his fingers encasing your neck. “I know it's something else” he stares between your eyes. You feel embarrassed, of course he was gonna know. Of course he's noticing it's something else, cause seonghwas got a perfect sense of smell when it comes to you.
“I'm sorry I'm noticing so late” you cry gently, lip trembling. “I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner, I was scared” you turn away when seonghwas hand falls away, rubbing up and down your arm. “Scared you wouldn't like me back, I was - upset cause- I knew- I thought you all wouldn't be okay with it.. I wanted to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. All of you. I didn't know I could have that.” You sob through words.
Seonghwa would say this sudden rush of emotion is partially because of your heat, it's also you. Something you've built up and finally is popping due to some tlc. His arms wrap around your waist, maneuvering you to face him. You let him do so, lighter in the pink water. In all your nakedness, your completely vulnerable in front of him.
Telling him exactly how you feel and trusting him with it. He places two heavy palms against your face, caging your cheeks in. He stares, and stares. So many thoughts, words, and things he could do in the moment. “I've wanted you for so long” he says instead. Pushing out a memory from years ago to the surface.
“When we were both younger- Especially when I was first joining, you were the first person that I wanted to see most often.” He tugs on his bottom lip. “I thought you were the prettiest person ever. Cool too. I had never seen someone like you before. I thought “is she from a different place?” I didn't know you could exist. I thought you were something else entirely.'' he nods into his words, you hiccup.
Clenching your palms around his wrist tenderly. “I've been in love with you since I met you. I would have followed you anywhere. I still will. I’ll gladly share, it just means they notice how amazing you are. And so does atiny. You're worth everything to those seven guys out there. And me. I promise, you could have been decades late and i still would have said yes.” maybe Seonghwa is spilling his guts here. But how your eyes sparkle with unshedded tears, face so puffy and lips so dainty, he feels the need to be honest.
Images flash over the years, you in different hair colors. Outfits, stages. He's got everything about you memorized. You're addicting and your personality gives him whiplash. Good whiplash. The type that makes him so flustered on camera if he catches you watching him talk.
The type that makes him feel so bold on stage, letting loose. The type of good whiplash he's getting from watching you. Honest for the first time in years. He loves this, he shouldn't, but he does. He loves holding you, loves having you lean on him emotionally. Just so he can tell you everything he completely means.
He wants to show the world he loves you. Tell the world he wants you to be his partner for life. He wants to be your mate. He knows he can't have that luxury yet, you're hardly even dating and you're still both so very young.
Got many years ahead, yet he wants it sooner than ever. He knows he can't show you off like that or else it's a scandal and the media would flip.
Your hands surround his face, holding his jaw. Your eyes slot close as you pull him into your puffy lips, telling him everything he needs to know with your fragile kiss. He breaths into you, capturing you into him ever so gradually. When you pull away, he's leaning his head into your neck and you do the same. Staying there for a second. Pushing his scent out for you.
There's no need to talk when seonghwa threads his hands through the rest of your hair to evenly spread the conditioner. You're scrubbing your body free from the actions of this week. You're feeling cleaner, but more exposed without yunho, or hongjoongs scent on you. Thankfully, yunho and hongjoong have a thing for biting.
The marks are evidence that they were there with you. Your finger passes over the scabbing bite on your inner thigh. Seonghwa peppers your shoulder with kisses when he pulls your hair over to rinse it. Soft and innocent. The feeling is homely and docile. He pats your hip to have you stand up so you can both rinse off the remnants of the bath water and soap.
The shower head connects to the top of the tub. You watch the marble pattern of white and pink drain from under your feet, letting the warmth from the new water beat down on your shoulders. Seonghwa is just outside the water, standing behind you and moving your hair around to rinse it. You pull it from his hand, turning to face him.
“aren't you cold?” You ask. Squeezing the ends. He shakes his head. “No..” he trails off looking away, too shy to meet your gaze. Although you both are naked, having been in the bath for a bit longer than you should have, he's still trying to be respectful and avoid looking at you inappropriately. “Liar” you laugh, sticking your hand out to grab him and pull him under the stream with you. He closes his eyes with a smile, water cascading down his face. You're closer because the stream of water doesn't spread far. You squeeze the last soapy drops out of your hair.
Something about seonghwa just letting the water fall over him has you staring. Water that flicks off his closed eyelashes and drips over the curve of his lips. When he pulls his hands up to push his hair back. You watch his biceps flex. His lips part to blow away the water that drips into his mouth. Missing you by a centimeter. Like some type of commercial, seonghwa looks beautiful just pushing his hair back. His eyes part, as if he feels you staring.
A piece of his black hair flicking over his forehead, his eyebrow raises. Your lip tugs up, caught red handed. “sorry” you bite your lip looking away. “You're staring” he blatantly says. Sharp eyes scanning you, he steps back from the shower stream so you can have it. “I know, it's hard not too” you mumble, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, closing your eyes under the patter of water.
You flick your hair once, then throw it over your back. Seonghwas hand finds your waist, flat as he palms it around your back, tugging you into him so you both are under the water. His humming is a buzz against your chest. You part your eyes through the water, lacing your hands around his neck. It's cute, it's nice. Not something you'd ever think you'd indulge in. You flicker water over his face when you blow it out of your mouth.
Apologizing quietly as he closes his eyes and grimaces. “sorry” you swipe your hand against his face, he's acting as if you spat on him. You laugh when he turns away from your palm. “You spat all over me” he groans, still holding onto you. Both hands this time pressed against your back. “no I didn't, it's just water” you gleam, lips parting as your smile grows wider.
“‘Just water’ that came out of your mouth” the smile behind his words has you knowing he's playing with you. “Are you saying my mouth is gross?” you go to pull back, playing as petty as you can. His hands shoot up to lock you back into him, hands holding your arms there. A singular one of his eyes pops open.
“No, Your mouth is perfect,” he says clearly, leaning down to peck your lips. You pull away before he can, his lips landing half on your cheek. “Why kiss me if my mouth is gross?” You huff, stomping your foot. Seonghwa doesn't pull back, as if intentionally meaning to land there. He trails a kiss over your jaw, down the junction of your neck, and right over your primary glands. You tilt your head for him. Basking in the way his lips part the droplets of water on you.
“Fine, I'll kiss you everywhere else then.” He mumbles against your collarbone as his head dips. Your hands thread through his wet hair. Breathing heavier when he starts sucking. Already creating a hickey right above your collarbone, opposite of where Yunho bit you, he's nipping lightly with his two front teeth, teasingly. His hand trails, water cascading down his fingertips. His fingertips just scan the plump of your butt. And move over your hips. He kneads the skin there, dipping his fingertips to pull you further into him.
You're already beginning to shift your thighs. Needy, so needy. Seonghwas left hand slides down to lightly swipe your inner thigh so they open. You part them, sighing heavily when he pushes his digits through your heat, already pushing two into your wet core. He pays no mind to your clit, knowing the lack of stimulation will tease you.
Slowly dragging his fingers in and out, until the tip of them is in and he's drilling them back up. You wiggle, trying to hook anything against your most sensitive area, it's not enough. Your whimper has seonghwa smiling against the junction of your neck, he trails back up, sloppy kisses as he sucks and leaves ribbons of red splotches. He kisses your jaw and hovers just over your lips.
You want to lean up to catch his lips in yours, you whimper again when his fingers dig into your hip. You begin to unlatch yourself from his shoulder to trail your hands somewhere else. One hard flick of his wrist against your insides has your eyes clenching close, he stops not a second after, and you wiggle at the loss sensation building.
“don't move,” he says with a heavy tone, staring down at your expressions. So close, he's teasing you with his lips. “if you move, you don't get me” he pinches your chin between his fingers. Squishing your cheek with the hand that was just on your hip. He works his fingers slowly again. His palm slapping against your bud. You twitch forward into him. Trying to plant your feet so you aren't moving. His eyes dig for every reaction you have, soft drops of water trailing down his face and into yours.
It's hard to reach a high like this, but you're so desperate, he knows that. Hanging off every curve of his finger, every bend of his digits as they slip into you. Getting wetter with each slap of his palm against your bundle. So close, yet so far, you're not there yet, but you're trying to be.
The water is an added stimulus, dripping down both of your faces, and his palm. Flicking back on you and mixing with your slick. You're clenching. Trying to push that high closer. One more prod of seonghwas finger has your gasp getting stuck in your throat. A third finger slipping into you. He wiggles it with the other two, the fit is tight, you spread open further to take it. Seonghwa groans at that, glad at you presenting and opening further for him and just him in the moment.
You clench down again, and almost as soon as he stuck it in, the tightness loosened with more of your slick. He watches for every twitch of your eyebrow, every quiet moan. His eyes lidded. No attention to his aching cock straining against his stomach. Your fingers keep him grounded. Tugging at the end of his long hair. He gives in when he looks down at your wet lips.
Taking you into him with a singular breath. He moans into your mouth, as you do him, tugging and pulling into each other. His tongue slips in, pressing against your own. You taste how he'd imagine, so sweet, so willing. His fingers stop their antics.
It's enough prep for seonghwa. You clench one final time as he pulls them out, swallowing your whines. He pulls away to suck on your exposed glands. His hands falling away to grip your thighs, he tugs once to signal he's pulling you up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, lifting your thigh up against his hip so he can pull you in. He lifts you with ease, slotting down to his knees in the tub.
The press of his cock slides between you, it has you arching into it. Hard and throbbing for attention against your clit. You want it. “Hwa” you whine, grinding up into him. He slaps his hand down on your thigh, you jump into him. Continuing his assault on your neck with a strangled moan. Sloppily, his teeth scan over your gland, your head falls slack. You're puddy.
When his teeth are there, you're so tempted to beg him to mark you, mate you in your most delicate area. “Please hwa,” you grind up again, the ridge of his cock pressed between your folds, thighs flexing against his hips. Holding onto him close, he doesn't spank you that time. “Go on, use me” he whispers, teasing his teeth against your gland. You grind up again, with the help of his hands.
“Should I? Take you right here, make you mine.” His tone is heavy with desire. Your clit throbs and you buck, letting his cock catch against you. You clench around nothing, not yet filled, but so close to cumming from his fingers moments ago. You sob “Yes, make me yours'' you bite down on your tongue.
The water is nothing compared to the sensation of seonghwas cock burying between your folds and teasing your hole with every stroke, his hips stuttering up into you at your words. He knows you don't mean it, knows you're caught in the heat of the moment. Everything you say can be taken with a grain of salt. You twitch forward, grinding down, your clit drags against the top vein on his dick. His tongue lapping at the spot on your neck.
He helps you, guides you to press down with his fingers digging across the top of your thighs. Soft breaths at the humping of you. Your mouth falls over his shoulder, biting against the same spot you had him in earlier. Whimpering against his skin. He knows this is torture, for both of you, but he can't stop. You feel so good like this, and he knows as soon as he slips in, it's gonna be hard for him to wait for you to adjust.
“Hwa, I want you inside, please, please alpha” you beg. He doesn't answer. Your climax is arriving without you noticing it, gasping into his shoulder. His teeth scrape against your glands as he moves to bite just below it, making it prominent in the spot he chose. His jaw locks, you stutter up. A painful and sudden orgasm as you cum from just humping against him.
You huff and pant. Seonghwas hand prys between the both of you, gripping his cock tightly. He hisses, lightly guiding it back and forth so it presses against your hole.
You're still coming down when he pushes inside, moaning into your shoulder. He fits all the way to the hilt with a single drag of his hips upwards. Letting your walls flutter. You whine at the fill, he's big- big like yunho, display of veins that throb when he fully sheaths inside, you tremble from the extra stimulation. Panting against seonghwas ear.
His large hands pry against your thighs, and move up to your hips. He swings them forward for you when you lean against his chest. Breath stuttering. “‘s too much” you gasp, whimpering at the overstimulation. His head falls back. His eyes flutter close at the way you wrap him in, lips parting to breath. “You can take it” he bites back, “I know you can” his hands fall over each of your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible.
The water bill is gonna be high. But Seonghwa doesn't think about it. The water is just an extra sensation when the best one is your cunt so tightly sucking him in. He moans once more when you pull yourself forward and back. Helping him with the swirl of your hips. Still begging for more when you just came. He tugs his lip down into his teeth.
Might as well get you here if you're both being cleaned off. His thighs snap up against you as he buries back in again. Cock pounding against your cervix. A heavy rhythm of water sloshing between you two. Your hands pooling over his lean shoulders as you fall into him with every hard thrust. Your first orgasm is gone but your second one is building.
Seonghwa can feel it, you pulse and twitch. Squishy walls pulling him in and attempting to milk him. His cock throbs every so often. His hands pulling your ass forward with every pound of his pelvis. Your whimpers are dragging him on. Your lips pressing against his own scent glands.
The sting of his thighs aching so wonderfully as he feels himself building up with you. Your mouth latches against the gland, cutting off your moans. He snaps up, and your teeth drag against his skin. “Come on angel, I know you want to,” he moans. “bite me- auh- mark me as yours,” he whimpers, his eyes clenching. You moan too. Cunt clenching in response. The tip hitting your cervix. It has him airily chuckling and huffing curse words. “do it, do it-I want you to do it, ah- shit. ‘make you the happiest girl in the world” he bucks, knees sliding forward as he does so.
You must be tempted to do so. Your teeth prod into his flesh, not yet breaking skin, not even enough to leave a mark. Your hips swirl forward messily. Clit catching against the small patch of rough hair he has growing against his lower stomach. “I'll do you good omega, take care of you every night like the perfect mate-ah” his words trail off into a strangled moan.
“No- mmm- protection like this, no shitty- fuck- birth control, whenever we want” he stutters up, water dripping off his face as he turns it down to look at you on his shoulder. Mouth lulled open and eyes closed tightly shut. “hope it takes- give you some- shit-” you clench again, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips as he swirls you forward, using all his strength to pound his cock up into you. “Hwa- give me it’ all of it- plea- ah!” You get cut off as he pulls all the way out to just pound back into you. “im gonna give you it-” his hips snap up as yours snap down, full weight being pressed onto him.
“wanna pump you full of my cum until you're leaking- until you smell like me all the time- fuck- give you my all” he ruts up into you, knot beginning to grow. Watching the way you suck him in. Images of you every night, waiting for him floods his imagination. He has you here now, in the shower. Desperate to have you cumming hard, and marking him as yours. Muffling your moans in his neck.
“‘m gonna cum soon hwa-” you pull up to tell him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, he watches the water drip from your forehead and over your lips. “I want to mate- please- please mate me- meant to be yours- all of yours” you whine out between heavy pants and moans, staring back up into his eyes. Water pouring over your features as you struggle to swing your hips forward. He wants it so bad. Wants to make you his and give you everything you want, spoil you like his perfect little angel and have you whenever he wants.
The tense feeling in his stomach pops, his knot shooting out to interlock inside you. Hot spurts of cum as well splatters against your silky walls. You twitch and come just as quickly after, he moans into you as he falls back over your shoulder. He bites hard, doesn't even recognize where he does, but he knows it's not your primary spot. His hips rutting into you as he guides your hips for you. His free hand shoots out to hold onto the side of the tub as he doubles over into you. You wheeze loudly, biting into his shoulder. Hard enough to bleed, you twitch just as hard. Pulsing against the warmth surrounding your cunt.
He chants your name as you drain the last of his energy and cum. Biting on his tongue to quiet down. The water beats down on his back and falls over your face. Droplets that are clear and showcase the climax you just went through. He pants hard over the bite, opening his eyes gently to peer down at it. So close, so damn close to piercing your sensitive spot.
His knot stops growing in the quietness, the pattern of water padding down your back, legs still interlocked around him to keep him inside you. Intentionally or not, seonghwa wants it to be. He meant it, he wants his cum to stick and leave you full of him, his scent, his being.
He digs his nose into your neck, smelling you deeply in his lungs. His hands are tight around your back. Palms spread wide to keep you close. Breathing in tandem as you both come down from your highs. For a second he lets his hand reach out to pull up the bath plug so the water fills the tub. Water drips from the tip of your heads. Chest to chest.
He can feel your heartbeat thumping loudly. His knot is definitely thicker and bigger than yunhos. It's hard to even move because of it. A heavy and thick weight in the pit of your stomach that presses towards your clit when you wiggle.
You whimper from the sensitivity. Seonghwa Hushes you softly. “I know, it's a tight fit” he groans with you, pulling back to glance down. You're not bleeding, which is a good thing, you shouldn't be. Seonghwa had prepped you enough. It's still a hard squeeze for you. He avoids the connection with his eyes.
It's not a good idea for him to pop another boner when he's still inside. Your arms fall around his chest, pulling him back closer. Face pressed against his left peck. Your eyes are squinted close, lips pouting. Seonghwa smooths the damp hair from your face, caging your body into him with his other hand.
“You okay?” he asks, leaning down to see you. His eyebrows are furrowed, your eyes part, nodding tiredly. “‘m good. perfect.” you pout your lips out for a kiss, seonghwa indulges you. Cupping your cheek in his palm and wrapping his top lip into yours. You sigh into the kiss. Seonghwa fucks hard and fast, your hips ache so sweetly. Although you tried to move as much as you could, you let seonghwa use you like you did him. And you're happy he did, cause you'd be aching again. His knot isn't as tight anymore, a slow deflate that makes you miss it.
As it goes, you lean yourself into seonghwa. Appreciation lingers off your lips when you kiss up into him, and your other arm curls around to land behind his neck, playing with the hair there. His hands rub up and down your arms. Comforting you without words. His bottom lip sucking into yours.
Sweet and strong, hints of coffee on his tongue. His eyes part open when he pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth once more. His hands caress down, over your shoulders, spine, lower back, hips, then thighs. His fingers ply the fat at the top and work on massaging his thumbs into the inner part, soothing the twist and ache in them.
“I shoulda been more careful, I'm sorry angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You shake your head into his shoulder. Pulling back enough to kiss the mark you left. “Don't be sorry, I liked it.” you mumble, thoroughly blissed out. The tub sloshes when seonghwa begins to lean back, taking his knees out from under him. He keeps you close. Never breaking the knot in the middle that connects you two.
His hands are soft and comfortable, stroking along your spine and hips as his knot proceeds to shrink. He's already got a cloth between his fingers, rubbing away any spit from your neck and padding the coolest part over your warm forehead. His eyes look down at you with so much adoration you begin to feel shy.
You close your eyes to cut his stare off. The cloth flops down into the water when he lets it go. He thumbs your chin, propping it on his fingers, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip. You blink open your eyes, tiredly. You need a nap. Seonghwa can tell. “Do you want to go back to your room? We can lay around in the living room too. You don't have to, though.” he nods into his words. Caressing your chin with his thumb.
“All of them will be there.” he mumbles the rest, quietly over the running bath water. You nod your head, a smile coming to the surface. “yes, that sounds nice” you huff. A nice comfy couch full of your boys completing surrounding you? Sounds like heaven. “Okay angel, we'll go,” Seonghwa smiles, his eyes guiding to your lips. He lands a soft kiss there.
Seonghwas clothing fits like a glove. After he cleaned you up, and you both rinsed off once more, he took it upon himself to dress you in his comfiest clothing. You would know. You steal the same clothes often. His oversized fluffy white sweater is spacious enough you don't feel claustrophobic. His white loose pants have a silky texture, something you know will give you some freedom to move. Along with your matching bra and undie set, you don't know when he picked it out.
His cheeky grin is something you shake your head at. And lastly, a pair of socks. He must truly be trying to make you look like an angel, cause you're dressed in all white currently.
“Are you trying to make me look like your angel?” You ask, teasingly, leaning your head back against his shoulder, his hand threads through your scalp. Quick kisses placed along your chin, circling around and then your lips. He's dressed in all black, a contrast to you. Seonghwa knows his colors. He grins into his kisses.
“Maybe, or you look good in white” he doesn't give you a proper answer, his hands wrapping around your waist and pushing you forward. The door swings open thanks to you, it's a lot colder in the hallway than it is in the bathroom. Your hand falls over his on your waist, threading your fingers over his. A slight chill crawling down your spine when he pushes you two on.
As soon as the living room comes into view. You're scanning, the only person on the couch is Yeosang. He seems to notice you two, sitting up to lean against the couch, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Seonghwa unwraps his hands from your waist,
Equally confused that all of the guys are gone. You're bouncing on the ball of your feet. Making your way over to yeosang with a shy grin. “Hi” he says, eyes gleaming with fondness. He's reaching his hand out, subtly, fingers wiggling over the arm rest.
You crawl under his lean arms, fully burying yourself into his side and breathing his scent in. You're very comfortable until he turns away, taking his attention with him as he addresses seonghwa. The said male turns to look over his shoulder just as he's about to enter the kitchen.
“Hongjoong told me to have you call” his hand falls over your waist, tugging you gently into him some more. He's telling you he's still here with you, subtly. “What for?” Seonghwas surprised voice echoes from the kitchen.
“Don't know, he didn't say.” he shrugs, turning back to look at you. A small but gentle smile crawling over his lips. “Hey, i missed you” he says in a small way. Shyly pulling his lips into a grin. You lean up to nose his jaw as close as you can reach. “Miss you more” you smile. “Where did the guys go?” You ask, snuggling into his side. His hand comes up to thread through your hair. “Out, they'll be back sometime soon” he answers you, looking down at your quickly relaxing figure.
Hongjoongs got a lot going on lately. It's pressure, a lot like usual. Immediately after you had been taken away for your bath and he got the guys separate from each other. His phone was buzzing, blinking the screen off the kitchen counter. He stalked over and immediately hit the answer button. Someone on the other side who he wasn't expecting. The security he had felt moments ago had been washed away in an instant.
How could schedule conflicts intercept your heat sanctuary booking? It makes no sense to hongjoong as he sits and thinks about it, phone pressed closer to his ear. He's leaning over the counter, head down. He doesn't know what to do exactly, would you want him to find you a different heat sanctuary? Or would you prefer the apartment? Home. The specific one seonghwa had picked out was completely secure, double, triple checked and official. Luxurious too. Most celebrities with omega sex use that specific heat sanctuary. It's completely secure. No press whatsoever.
But this is complicated now. Hongjoong has got to figure something out. He's got, a bit, of a plan. Search for heat sanctuaries and make sure they're safe for you. He's got jongho, yunho, mingi- for some reason he didn't trust mingi- wooyoung and San. The same goes for those two. Yunho's driving. Hongjoongs in the passenger seat, jongho behind the driver, wooyoung behind hongjoong, San in the middle, and lastly, in the final row, mingi is placed in the back. He lost the bet on the way to the van.
They've already visited about five places. Jongsik has taken time out of his day to help them look, he's got two places down so far. It's not enough, and it's not easy hiding identities. Hongjoong has already gotten the most stressed out he can be. He really doesn't know why he's so stressed. Maybe the possibility of making his potential-future-current ma-girlfriend upset has him uneasy. He's got to provide like you asked.
The buzzing from the guys in the back seat has joong anxious, drowning out their words in the back of his mind. It pools and it settles, eating away at his thoughts. The highway is a blur of bright sun and reflections gleaming off cars. His phone, the saving grace, rings.
“Hello?” he says, It's answered quickly. Seonghwas voice calls his name on the other side. Relief relaxes his bones. “Hey, where did-” “is she nearby?” He's begging for an answer. Seonghwa shuffles on the other side. “no, she's on the couch with yeosang” perfect. “Look, her heat sanctuary reservation got canceled at the last minute. They- they misbooked her for two months in advance- I don't understand how it-”
“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa stops his rambling with a hard call of his name. “We can figure this out, just come back, all of you.” seonghwa is convincing, cause then, hongjoong let's out the sigh he has been holding for a while.
Somehow mingi must have picked up on the call. He's already watching the car turn around and head home. Where they'll have to talk about it with seonghwa, your primary caretaker for your heat, and figure something out. Mingi didn't understand the sudden panic coming from the captain. Yes, it's stressful. But wouldn't you prefer being at home anyways? It would do you good to just stay in the comfort of the apartment in his opinion.
Unbeknownst to him, jongho is thinking the same thing. They've been at this for at least a solid two hours. You must miss them by now. And he definitely misses you. He misses not sitting next to sans bulky shoulders. He's going down the list of things he'd prefer than being in a cramped van, and you're most of them. He'd prefer being with you on the couch, cuddling, being touchy, maybe napping. Something ridiculous like that, Jongho didn't think he'd associate himself with domesticity. But he doesn't mind if it's you. He welcomes it, if it's coming from you.
Yunho has been the observer this while, quiet, unnervingly quiet, actually. Even Wooyoung and San debated a second ago about it. Ever since he asked his first couple of questions, he's stuck to just letting everyone else do what they're doing. This ride feels pointless but it's indeed Important. He just wonders why hongjoong didn't pull seonghwa aside and explain the situation at the apartment. But then again, Yunho realizes your heat is supposed to hit today. So that must be why the captain is freaking out. Trying to help in any way he can. There's really no guarantee you're okay with being at home. Yunho would hope you preferred the apartment. But it was your idea to be at the heat sanctuary. So, it's gonna cause chaos when they find out it's been canceled.
It really isn't his place to voice that though, he's not your primary caretaker. Seonghwa is. And if he has to say something then- he will. He'll say it to seonghwa. Because currently, hongjoong is sweating bullets in the passenger seat. Yunho doesn't want to stress him out anymore. The drive back is silent, buzzing with unspoken energy. Wooyoung and San are even whispering, debating, loud enough for everyone to hear. You are on the tip of their tongues as they talk. No one says anything about it, they're voicing the same concerns everyone has had up until that moment. “Do you think she wants to be home for it?” Wooyoung asks and san huffs. “I don't know, I can't read her mind” he sighs into his words, pouting.
Yeosang has been great company, he's perfect actually. He holds you close and talks about the movie with you, a jurassic park movie. One of the older ones, after scouring all of the apps, he finally took the remote from you and put one on. Dragging you into him, you've got your head on his lap. As he strokes your hair, watching the movie with focused attention.
With one of the throw blankets hanging off the two of you. Your eyes have already closed once, but when he moved his thigh you twitched them back open. Sleepily watching the movie. Behind your head, he has been watching you most of the time. Watching your shoulders fall with every breath. You shift your feet to curl up further, tugging your head closer to him. Sighing every so often. Yawning as well. Yeosang knows you're tired.
He'd never admit it out loud but he tried to block out every event from the morning, he's got a keen sense of hearing. He had to excuse himself already to calm down. Yunho popped into their shared room last night, and for a second, yeosang debated with himself on asking if he could join you two for some after time. He didn't though. And as Yunho left without noticing he was awake, he fell into a thoughtless dream after.
But this is what he needs. You, so very close. Clueless to the mess the guys are trying to fix. Just relaxing into him. He doesn't know the last time you actually relaxed. You've been chaotically stressed for- well- forever. He might even say you have anxiety. The way you have melted into them at any affection for the past week makes his heart swell.
You deserve affection and praise. Yeosang likes this a lot. Just existing together. He hopes you could do this for the future, just relax with him. Not worry so much about things. You're not even the captain and yet, you're the most. doting of the group. practically the one who holds the weight of the group on your shoulders before events whenever you notice any one of them feeling crowded.
Maybe- he thinks for a second, as his fingers caress over your neck, along your collarbone. Maybe you've always had this second sex deep down.
Bodies shuffle through the front door, the jingle of keys echoing as they clatter against the key dish. Your head doesn't prop itself from yeosangs’s lap. You're most definitely asleep. His hand goes to cover your exposed ear at the loudness. Looking up from over the TV to the entrance. Just as san rounds the corner, yeosang is gesturing him to being quiet. His face lights up when he sees you, contrary to the confused look he had before. He takes the spot opposite yeosang, towards the end of your feet. His hand sliding up to pat your calf. “How long has she been asleep for?” he never breaks his eyes from your face as he asks.
Yeosang does the same. “A bit” he nods to confirm. The couch begins to get crowded, Yunho pops up against the space behind the couch, reaching over to pull the blanket further up your shoulders silently. Jonghos next, standing next to yunho. His arms lean over the back of the couch so he can watch Yunho pull the blanket up. And then there's mingi. Who is loudly stomping through the door with wooyoung.
Both arguing about well- probably nothing serious. Your once serene sleeping face scrunches as the discussion meets your ears. Loud shushes come from the guys just as yeosang grimaces. Jongho leans away to scold Mingi. As san does the same. Getting up from his spot on the couch gently so as to not wake you. Hush whispers and apologies filling the living room over the volume of the TV.
Hongjoong is at seonghwa's door as soon as he sees he isn't in the living room. You're fast asleep and he did watch your face for a second before he left to talk to the dark haired guy. Seonghwa lets him in. As soon as he steps through the door hongjoong is explaining his point of view. Where they were. What they were doing.
“It's okay, I had a backup, they take last minute reservations.” Seonghwa reassures him. Reaching for the stack of papers on his bed. “We talked about it that day, remember?” It's a bit of a blur but. Yes, Joong remembers when they sat around your door that day. A phone call that lasted fifty minutes. He takes a seat on seonghwas bed with him. Confirming with a “Yeah, I do”
Seonghwa slips a piece of paper towards joong. Tapping on one of the lines. It's in seonghwas writing. Notes from that day. Contacts for the heat sanctuary, a line of three. Backups, he assumes. “I haven’t placed the reservation yet.” seonghwa, says. Biting on his bottom lip gently. Joong fiddles with the papers between his fingers.“I was thinking we could ask if she would want to stay here for her heat” hongjoong says.
Seonghwas eyes shoot open in surprise. He thinks for a second, nodding his head after. His eyes come up to make contact with hongjoongs.
“it doesn't hurt to ask”
Mingi stands completely rigid at the end of the hallway, the majority of the guys are the same. Standing back against the wall as they watch you work at tugging the blankets and pillows across the living room. It's a strange sight, you on your knees, tossing left and right. Your forehead creases with the amount of focus you're putting into it. He left for two seconds to find his phone and you're already awake.
“Is she doing what I think she's doing?” He asks first. Just as you're sitting on your knees, looking around at the circle of blankets uncomfortably. Yunho, somehow, is the first to say something when he notices your expressions. “She needs more blankets. Get blankets! Pillows! Clothes, whatever- go” he pushes bodies into the hallway, most of them bump into mingi and get to spreading out.
Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still in hwas's shared room when suddenly the burst of san and mingi interrupt their discussion. The clatter of people in the hallway has them concerned, doors swinging open and bouncing off the wall, stomping of feet, what the hell is going on out there? San is tossing his blankets over his shoulder, pillows as well. Mingi, well- Mingi is grabbing anything he can fit in his arms.
There's the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what's going on. Cause as they watch for seconds as their members frantically pull their own scent covered blankets and sheets. Seonghwa and joong shoot up to do the same. Hongjoong feet skid to a stop in the hallway. You're in clear view. Kneading and pawing at the blankets. A frustrated pout over your lips. It's a cute sight until he completely bumps into jongho and wooyoung.
Clothing spiraling out of their hands and mixing along the floor. Jongho isn't cursing out hongjoong, just in general when he bends down to pick up what he can. Dumping it just outside the sacred ring of your makeshift nest, like an offering. Wooyoung on the other hand, is whining about how his clothes and jonghos clothes are now mixed up. He hates that. As well as coming in second when he completely drops his clothes closest to the line that's your nest.
Jongho childishly sticks his tongue out at wooyoung. Wooyoung does the same. Pushing the younger members shoulder.
You reach out of the circle. Debating on whose clothing to grab first, your hand hovers. But it then pulls back to pry on your bottom lip. Thinking. Your eyebrows scrunch. You're very cute at this moment, jongho and wooyoung both think so. Wooyoung is a bundle of impatience while jongho’ hands twitch every so often together. When you reach out again, you grab both of their ankles.
Surely, they weren't expecting that. Quite literally did you pick both, you're now pulling them into the circle with tough yanks. They both don't waste a second, entering the sacred area that is your nest. They've never been let into a nest, so they really don't know what to do, standing awkwardly in a mix of their own scents. “Off” you point to their shirts.
Perhaps the freshness of their scents is why you want their shirts. You don't have to ask twice. Wooyoung almost sloppily pulls off his full top over his head, a graphic hoodie. Whilst jongho, completely pulls his shirt off with minor hesitation and hands it to you, you smile. Shoving your face into it. Wooyoung, finally able to, gets his hoodie and shirt off in one go.
He hands it to you as soon as you look up, face beaming up at him so brightly, he swears his heart skips a beat. You go to shove the shirts and hoodie into the outer layer of the nest, adding to the wall. You stop abruptly, looking back up at the two men who stare in wonder. The dropping of a zipper sliding against the wood floor has them jumping. “Why are you in the circle!.. where are your shirts-” San whines pointing fingers accusingly at the two men, a pile of his and mingis clothing and blankets stack like a mountain on the floor. Mingi is pouting aswell, bending down to look at you.
“Can I help?” He asks urgently, nodding his head, hand reaching out towards the edge of the nest. You take a second, staring, mingi is sweating. He wants to help, wants you to say yes, he can be good, can keep his hands to himself, he can provide like a good alpha. “Will you help me?” you bite your bottom lip. You reach for his hand, pulling him in. Mingi gets to work, lining up the edges with clothes he brought. “No fair! I want to help!” Wooyoung whined, dropping down to his knees in front of you. “Mega, I can help right?” “Me too!” jongho interjects, dropping down on his knees as well. Wooyoung shoots him daggers over his shoulder.
You smile, and hand them the clothing you've grabbed. San is busy pouting, arms crossed over his chest. He's got an ego at the moment and he doesn't feel like begging, too busy watching the other guys smooth out clothing. Your soft hands reach to pet over his crossed arms, unfurling them and pulling him inside the circle with the gentleness san is melting at. The others are too busy building the edges to notice he was pouting seconds before.
Lost in their own corners. You pull him down and tug him to the free space on the nest. It's big enough for everyone to have their own corners. Enough to have the space. “The furniture is in the way” you pout, grabbing his hands in yours. “Will you move it please?”
Wow, the way sans moves so quickly. You would have said he turned into the flash. His hands are pushing the extremely large center table. Yunho has to stop him with a hand on the other end, tossing his clothes to the side. San perks up, hands on his hips as he stands tall opposite of the other alpha. “She asked me, not you,” he brags, it doesn't cause any harm. Yunho laughs.
“I'm sure she doesn't mind, right ‘mega?” You perk at his call, looking over your shoulder from next to mingi. “don't fight” you huff, pouting. They shake their heads. “We'll play nice” San waves his hand, trying to push your worries away. He's actually thankful that Yunho showed, he might have thrown his back out if he didn't. Yunho helps san as the center table is pushed as far to the wall as it could go, as well as the couch, pushed towards the window to make room. As soon as they're done they're joining you in the nest, bumping shoulders to open the area.
Yeosang, seonghwa, and hongjoong come last. Meticulously chosen clothing and blankets in hand. “I'm glad I vacuumed '' seonghwa grimaces, the floor isn't the best place. In his opinion, you all should just move just because he doesn't deem it good enough for you. That really is the alpha in him talking. Hongjoong moves on, doesn't even acknowledge it. He places his clothes down as he squats, calling your name for your attention. He reaches his hand out.
“Joongie'' you smile, fingers slipping into his own. Your pupils are blown, must be in omega mindspace cause as soon as you grab him you're digging your face into his neck, he giggles at the sensation. You pull back and peck his lips. Rubbing your nose against his. “Come!” You beckon seonghwa and yeosang as well, making a grabbing motion.
You've got a giant circle going, it spans almost the entire living room. The sheets are the first layer in the center. Followed up by piles of clothing on the edges, and lastly blankets folded for comfort. no one questions how everyone has removed their shirts. You've got all of their missing clothing in your grasp, draped across you as you work your fingers at pulling a blanket over the tilted sideways couch, it's like a little cave, big enough for two just in case you want to hide out in there.
You're making excited noises by the end of it. Like you just decorated and finished your most important project. Smile so big, that everyone is copying you. Watching you with fondness. You've told each of them at a time that their spots are perfect. They love the praise.
“You did amazing omega, It looks perfect” yunho scoots on over, pulling himself around your back, hands wrapping around your waist. He can't help it. You're just so giggly and cute at the moment. So squishy. He loves it. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck. You lean back into him, curling your hand around his hair. Preening at the affection.
Hongjoongs head falls on your lap, laying between your thighs. “You put a lot of work into it. Didn't you?” he praises, clapping his hand over your face gently. Pulling you down into him. A type of upside down spider kiss ensues, innocent and sweet. And maybe the other guys are staring, it's hard not too. You're beautiful. You're breathtaking.
You're relaxed. It's rare to see so. The only time you've looked relaxed in a month is when you're borderline sleepy or banged out. Which, only one of those things has become common recently. Sex really is a good stress reliever. Or maybe it's being close to them. Letting yourself feel comfortable with the affections of your group members.
You haven't left the nest since it was made, seonghwa has to lure you to the corner so you don't get any snacks or crumbs on the pile. Each guy has come and gone in it, most recently San who pulled you onto his chest so he can nap, safe to say it was the best nap in his life. Jongho is asleep across from you in the little couch cave. Yeosang took sans spot next, painting your nails with scentless polish, just talking with you.
He's got a soft orange to match his own black nails. Halloween-esk themes. You watch his face as he does so, focusing hard. The background chatter of the guys makes you buzz with comfort. Wooyoung has a hand on your thigh as he watches his phone. Scrolling mindlessly.
“Yeo” you call softly, the top of the nail polish being placed on the bottle as he looks up through his eyelashes. He twists it tight, tapping and shaking it in his hand. He hums to answer you, you smile gently. His hand has a soft hold on your own, showcasing the tips of your fingernails to him. “Can we.. Can I..” You mumble on, a bit flustered. Yeosang nods gently, encouraging you on. You look down at his lips. Squishy and plush from him biting on them while he focused. Your hand reaches up, the one he holds. He tugs it back between you before you can place it on his face.
He's leaning down before you can ask, softly applying his lips to yours. Sighing into you. He's been waiting for this. So long. His own hand curls around your arm. Keeping you grounded in front of him as he leans in. Guiding your kiss with his own slow paced one, lips moving in tandem. He's soft and gentle, letting you relax into him. He pushes you back more with his own movements, but his hand holds you close.
He pulls away, eyeing your reaction. Just a small smile afterwards, the tiniest of grins. He's shaking the polish again, gripping your right hand so he can paint that side. Your face feels hot, flush. You'll never get used to kissing, possibly, ever. Not when they're so romantic about it.
“What about me, huh?” Wooyoung speaks up, his fingers pulling at the bottom of your pants. You turn to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. He sits up on his arm expectantly, tilting his head, a smirky pout on his lips. You huff. Leaning forward. He happily closes the distance. Taking your face in his larger palm.
Wooyoung kiss is much faster than yeosangs. He's got you parting for him before you can react, swallowing your sighs in his greedy mouth. Even though you're the one leaning down to kiss him, he's got you doing what he wants. Nibbling on your bottom lip and sucking air every time he pulls back. He's messy, sloppy, licking up the saliva he pulled from you. One more sloppy kiss on your glossy lips. Before he pulls his mouth away and smirks. His finger swipes along your lip. Glancing between it and you.
What do you do with yourself now?
“Hot” Wooyoung smiles at your reaction. Bingo. He's got a massive ego. You're dazed, eyebrows shot up and licking the gloss from your lips. He pats your thigh, turning away to go back on his phone. Satisfied. Yeosang huffs under his breath, a soft laugh. Before he's pulling your hand back between his and guiding the tip of the polish down your fingernail again. It takes you a second to recoup. Hot and bothered. The contrast between the two of them shows.
Mingi decides it's his turn to step into the nest, carefully walking over the wall of clothes with his massive body. He takes his seat behind you, watching his lanky arms, his head falling over your shoulder. “Seonghwa wants to know how you're feeling,” Mingi asks, a bit flushed when he looks down at your hands. ‘How you're feeling’ really means ‘do you need dick now or later?’ And, maybe that urgent feeling is crawling back up. Just resting in the pit of your gut and bubbling. “Mm.. I'm okay for now” you shift, turning your head at him. A few seconds ago, you would have said differently. “You sure?” He looks up through his lashes as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. Certainly smelling your scent and how it's more prominent.
“For now” you repeat. Smiling shyly. You kiss his temple, as far as you can reach. He leans his head up to nudge your nose with his, capturing your lips easily. He's leaning down into you, taking your breath away. It's a simple kiss, a soft dance. He pulls away. He can't indulge right now. But he wants to. He kisses your neck once, standing up to take his leave and report back to seonghwa and hongjoong.
A lot has just happened, you're sure this confirms everything so far. You mean- everything you hope.
“i.. are we dating now?” wooyoung's phone audibly stops. Yeosangs finger stops the brush. You gulp, don't even look up from the brush on the edge of your fingertip. It's not a second later that wooyoung laughs. “we're practically married,” he huffs, shuffling to lay his head on your thigh. A contrasting smile to your shocked face. “you can't get rid of us now” yeosang’s grin can be heard through his words, continuing to work the brush, gathering the glooped polish.
And maybe wooyoung does want to marry, there's nothing wrong with it. He didn't see himself getting married anytime soon. Mating either. He'd do both of those things with you in a heartbeat. He followed rumors of you as a trainee. Even leaving hybe to join the same entertainment as you. He was determined to meet you. Because of it, he got yeosang to become a secret fan of you as well. Maybe, wooyoung is a bit of a creep, but he really, really liked you, even before debut.
Yeosang knows this, how his best friend was almost completely infatuated with you. A giant crush that made yeosang join him. They're probably your first fanboys. No, they're definitely your first fanboys.
Mingis walk to the kitchen is a giddy one. He feels the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Buzzing him with electricity. He's a starved man, dying for your affection. Any type of crumb gets him excited. Like he's about to perform. He takes a deep breath before he enters the kitchen. Glancing at Hongjoong sit at the counter, laptop propped up on his lap. San is helping Seonghwa cook. Yunho as well. All of them are doing their own thing.
It's the domesticity that gets to him. He really doesn't see his life any other way. This is his pack. Forever. Joongs eyes catch mingis, popping half a strawberry in his mouth. “What's with that look?” Joong asks. But he knows. Mingi knows he knows. Cause that subtle look on his smirking features is a dead giveaway. “Nothing,” Mingi mumbles, scratching the back of his head, turning an eye so as to avoid his question.
“How is she?” Seonghwa asks from over his shoulder. “she said she's okay for now” he enhances the end. There's a huff of laughter coming from joongs end. “For now” he repeats, turning in his chair. Everyone in the kitchen glances at him, different swirls of emotions on each of their faces. “What does that mean?” San asks. Cluelessly.
Yunho laughs. Airy and deep. Preparing the side dishes for dinner.
“Means she's gonna need taken care of soon”
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Semi-proofread c': thank you all!
taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @pyeonghongrie-main @simeonswhore (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎)
743 notes ¡ View notes
awkward-walking-potato ¡ 3 months ago
Note
wade Wilson with an s/o that doesn’t celebrate their own birthday? (bonus points if you make them forget their own birthday because it’s been so long since they ever celebrated it)
Better Than Cake
Wade Wilson never missed an opportunity for a party—especially if it involved ridiculous decorations, food, and cake. But something had been bugging him lately, something about you. No matter how long he’d been with you, he realized he didn’t know your birthday. Not because he hadn’t asked—but because you’d never seemed to care.
Today, Wade was lounging around your shared apartment, wearing his usual red-and-black Deadpool suit, with the mask casually pulled back to rest around his neck. He watched you make breakfast, and a thought crossed his mind.
“Hey, babe,” Wade called, his tone oddly casual for once. “When’s your birthday?”
You paused, turning to look at him with a confused expression. “My… birthday?”
“Yeah, y’know, the day of your miraculous, earth-shattering entrance into this glorious world? The day you were born? It’s kind of a big deal.” Wade grinned, but he was watching your reaction carefully now.
You frowned slightly, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t really celebrate it. Haven’t in… years, honestly. I don’t even remember when the last one was.”
Wade blinked, stunned for a moment. “Wait, hold up. You forgot your own birthday?”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you went back to cooking. “I guess I just stopped caring after a while. It’s not a big deal.”
Wade’s grin faded slightly, replaced by an uncharacteristically serious look. “Not a big deal?” he repeated, standing up and walking over to you. “Babe, your birthday is a huge deal. How could you not celebrate it?”
You shrugged again. “I don’t know. I just never thought much of it. After a while, it’s just another day.”
Wade stood there, staring at you like you’d just spoken in another language. “Okay, no. Absolutely not. We’re fixin’ this right now.”
You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“We are gonna celebrate the hell out of your birthday, no matter when it was,” Wade declared, a determined gleam in his eyes. “If you don’t remember, we’ll pick a day. Hell, we’ll pick today. Today is now officially your birthday. Boom! Done.”
You laughed at his enthusiasm, but before you could protest, Wade had already darted off to grab his phone. “Wade, seriously, you don’t have to—"
“Too late! I’m ordering a cake, decorations, and balloons. Oh! And we’ll need streamers. You can’t have a party without streamers. It’s in the rulebook of fun.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him go into full-on planning mode. “Wade, it’s really not necessary—"
“Necessary? No. Fun? Hell yes!” He winked at you before continuing, “Trust me, babe, everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday, and if no one’s done it for you in a while, that just means I’m gonna have to go extra hard.”
It didn’t take long for Wade to throw together a “birthday” celebration. By the afternoon, the apartment was covered in balloons, confetti, and banners that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” in obnoxiously bright colors. You had to admit, it was a little overwhelming, but in a strangely heartwarming way.
Wade even managed to get a cake—though he’d clearly taken a bite out of it before he brought it to the table. He stood there, proud of his hastily thrown-together birthday bash, grinning from ear to ear.
“Alright, (Y/N),” Wade said, standing in front of you with the cake in his hands. “Make a wish. And no, you can’t wish for me to stop being so ridiculously handsome.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you blew out the single candle on the cake. “I don’t know what to say, Wade. This is… a lot.”
“Damn right, it is,” Wade replied, setting the cake down and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But y’know what? You deserve a lot. And if no one else is gonna make a big deal out of your birthday, I’m gonna do it for both of us.”
You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to make you feel this special. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Anytime, babe. Anytime.”
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tyunzonlystar ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Run away with me?
Choi yeonjun
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Genre: smut, strangers to fwb to lovers, non-idol au
Warnings: non!idol au, brief mention of abuse, daddy kink, semi-public sex, mentions of bullying,fwb to lovers, slight dirty talk, blowjob (m!receiving), robbing a bank, fake names (yj is called “jungwoo” for a scene, making out, marking, fingering (f!receiving), eating out, (f!receiving), slight spit kink, cum eating, p in v, squirting, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, unprotected sex,lmk if I forgot anything!!
Word count: 1.8k
Ending is rushed and I could only add ten pics so that’s why the dividers are only at the end not proofread either😭
Minors dni‼️‼️‼️‼️
It all started back in the third year of highschool. He had seen you crying in the field and decided to approach you. 
“Are you okay? Why are you crying? I’m Yeonjun by the way.” 
“o-oh…I’m y-y/n.”
“That's a cute name for a cute girl. But why're you crying?”
“I’m being bullied by some guys in the year above me.. A-And they shoved me into my locker and a piece of metal c-cut my back..”
“Let's go to the nurse, okay? And you can sit with me at lunch if you want too..”
“R-Really? You wanna sit with me? At lunch? Where everyone can see?”
“Yeah! I mean I don't have any friends and I'd like you to be my friend.”
“Okay! Thank you, Yeonjun.”
And that's how your friendship began! Then college came around and you guys realized that you only had each other  and nobody would approach you two since you were both loners and never got invited to anything. So one day he had invited you to his dorm to smoke weed and get drunk. 
3 bottles of vodka and 6 joints later you were both horny and pissed and what else can you do when there's only one other person in the room? Correct! You fuck.
“Oh shit… Jjun…”
“HOLY SHIT! WE JUST FUCKED! AHA! OH MY GOD!”
You were ecstatic. You’ve been in love with Yeonjun since he first spoke to you on that field but you don't know if he likes you back considering he laughed after he took your virginity. 
“Jjun do you remember when we first became friends with benefits?”
“Yeah we were high and drunk. Why?”
“Dunno.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I’m staying with my parents for the whole week so we can’t hang out until next week. I gotta go n/n.”
“Alright. Bye Jjun.”
“Bye y/n.”
Disconnected.
You were always bored without Yeonjun being around. And now you can't see him for a week! What are you gonna do without him being balls deep inside you four hours before college? What are you gonna do after college without him? You can’t just go to your hangout spot and smoke weed on your own, can you? Who are you gonna rant to about your problems? You can't call or text him since his parents hate you for “having no manners”. This week is gonna drag. He’s your only friend. The one you gossip with. The one you talk to before and after class. The one you eat your lunch with. The one you vape with behind the building. The one who protects you from assholes. And now he’s an hour away at his parents place. You know everything about his parents. Everything. You know that they abuse him. And that's his biggest secret.
 Shit.. Is he gonna be okay? 
You lay there on your bed overthinking about him. No. About everything. Him, upcoming exams, your own life, your parents. The list goes on. 
Hours of tossing and turning every night, unable to fall asleep without Yeonjuns ‘goodnight’ text. It’s only been 4 days without him and you’re going crazy, snapping at everyone who looks at you weirdly or stares at you for too long, getting angry when your face id doesn't work since your hair is in braids. And now it’s Thursday night. You check the time: 2:06 am. For fucks sake! You tried going to sleep at 11! You have college in less than six hours! 
Walking to your kitchen, your phone pings. A text from..
Yeonjun? 
What the fuck is he doing messaging you? He never messages you when he's with his parents. Sighing, you unlock your phone and read the text.
“She hurt me again, y/n. I also broke her favorite vase when I fell.”
“Jjun, what the fuck happened?”
“I went to the bathroom nd shut the door too loudly and i fucking woke her up!”
“Do you want me to get a taxi to you and you can come back to the dorms?”
“No y/n. They’ll just come to our dorms and take me back to them.”
“I don't know what else to suggest, Yeonjun.”
“Run away with me?”
“What?”
“Run away with me. Come get a taxi and go to the park around the corner from my parents. Bring bags for like 3 outfits, money, food and water to last us, weed, vapes and a hair brush and dry shampoo.”
“Okay. I’ll be over in an hour.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say to the taxi driver before getting out and running over to Yeonjun who’s sitting on the swings.
“So.. Where the fuck are we gonna go?” You ask as you sit on the swing next to him.
“Anywhere.”
“What about college?”
“We’ll start a new life. I mean we’re 20. We have our GCSEs and we don't really need college. We’ll figure something out.”
He leads you to a store to buy burner phones so that nobody can track you down. 
“Just fucking throw it!”
“But it’s an iphone!”
“Do you want people to track us down, y/n?”
“No…”
“Then fucking throw it!”
You groan loudly before throwing your phone off the cliff into water
“There’s an abandoned car park somewhere around here.”
“We’ve been walking for like 4 hours, Jjun. And we’re in the middle of nowhere. I don’t see any fucking car park.”
“Shut up. It’s near. Stop fucking complaining.”
“Stop talking to me like that.”
“Like what, sweetheart? Does it turn you on?”
“Jjun, stop it..”
“See! I told you it's near!”
The car park looked like a dump. I mean it was expected since it's abandoned but there's no other building on site other than run down convenience stores and like two clothing stores. Makes no sense since there's no houses or anything for miles. It’s fine for the time being. 
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“Oh shit, baby.. Keep going…making me f-feel so good..s-such a good girl..”
You look up at him through your lashes as you take more of him down your throat, gagging around his length. He throws his head back at the overwhelming pleasure building in him.
“Shit. Shit. SHIT! FUCK! Baby, im so close..shit…so fucking close.. You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?” You pat his thigh twice as a signal for yes.
“Then can you swallow daddy's cum like a good girl?” He lets out a low moan as he shoots his warm load down your throat.
“Daddys good girl aren't you?” “y-yes..”
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It’s been three weeks since you and Yeonjun ran away and god knows if anyones bothered looking for you. You both ran out of money so you couldn't buy any more food or water but Yeonjun had a so-called ‘smart’ idea.
“What?! I’m not robbing a bank with you! If we get put in jail we can’t fuck or gossip!”
“Pleaseeeee! We’ll dye our hair and we’ll rob it with masks on and make ourselves look bigger than we are by putting on a fuck ton of layers!”
“Fine.”
“We’re also gonna need fake names.”
“Okay uhm is ‘F/N’ good?”
“Yeah. and call me uhm Jungwoo.”
“Yes, sir.”
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“RUN! FUCKING RUN!”
“I AM RUNNING!”
“YES BUT NOT FAST ENOUGH!”
“I CANT RUN ANY FASTER JUNGWOO! I'M 5'5 REMEMBER?!”
“F/N, I DON’T CARE HOW SHORT YOU ARE JUST RUN FUCKING FASTER!”
You never thought you would rob a bank with your best friend yet here you are counting money.
“450,267,934.”
It was $450,267,964 but you bought hair dye. $10 on bleach since Yeonjun had red hair, $10 on pink hair dye for you and another $10 on black hair dye for Yeonjun.
“There's a house a few miles away for sale so we can buy it.”
“We’ll have to give them rent though.”
“Not if we buy the house to own it.”
“Ohhh. Okay let's go!”
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“Sit still.”
“It burns, y/n!”
“Shut up, it's the same brand I used when I dyed your hair red.”
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“Now you sit still!”
“You're so rough!”
“Yeah, but you like it rough, don't you sweetheart?”
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The shower looked like a unicorn murder scene with your pink hair dye mixing with the water along with Yeonjuns black hair dye but it turned a pretty dark pink color.
“Can you wash my back, Jjun?”
“I guess so” He sighs dramatically, adding a petty eye roll into the mix as he slowly rubs the shower gel over your back. His hands slowly grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes widen as you feel his hardness pressing against your lower back.
“Jjun…”
“Please baby…”
You softly sigh, knowing you can't say no to him and his naturally pouty lips. You both quickly wash out the conditioner and wash off the soap from your bodies and the text thing you know you're pressed up against the bathroom door, Yeonjuns tongue invading your mouth. Yeonjun grips your thighs and carries you to your new shared bedroom before throwing you on the bed before his lips attack your neck, biting and sucking softly on your flesh.
“mm…Jjunie…please..” You whimper quietly. 
“Please what, baby?”
“F-Fuck me..please..need you s-so bad..”
“Good girl.”
Yeonjun kisses down your chest, leaving splotchy marks as he praises you every now and again. He looks up at you through his lashes as he settles between your thighs before his tongue peeks out to taste your wetness.
“You taste so good, baby.” He groans, the vibration against your clit making you squirm. Yeonjun nuzzles his face further between your thighs, his nose bumping against your clit as he sloppily makes out with your dripping hole.
“Jjunie-” And before you can finish your sentence yeonjun shoves 2 fingers in your needy hole, curling and finger fucking you as fast as his arm would let him as you continuously clench around him.
“Gonna cum for daddy, angel?” He asks before his lips wrap around your clit sucking harshly before you can even reply. You moan out his name like a chant as you cum on his fingers. Yeonjun sucks your essence off his fingers before his tongue dives back into your hole, collecting your newly passed orgasm. His thumb presses against your bottom lip waiting for you to open your mouth before spitting your own cum into your mouth.
“Swallow.” “Good girl. Are you ready for daddy?”
“Mhm..please..”
He kisses you harshly as he guides his dick to your hole before slowly pushing into you, swallowing up all your moans and whines. Without warning he was hammering into you, hips slamming against yours with each hard thrust. His hand gently snakes around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy with pleasure.
“D-daddy…f-feels so good! Mmphf!”
“Shhh..i know it feels good baby..”
Yeonjun removes his hand from your throat so he can roughly rub your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.
“Daddy! ‘m g-gonna cum!” You whine as you clench around him, making him groan.
“Go on, angel. Cum for me” And with that your vision goes blurry and you repeat his name like a ritual as you squirt all over his cock, your juices dripping onto the bed sheets.
“You did so well for me, baby. Be my girlfriend?”
“What?”
“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
“YES! YES! YES!”
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Years later nobody found you and Yeonjun after you ran away with each other and you now live a happy life with each other and your two kids <33
92 notes ¡ View notes
3vergr3en ¡ 2 months ago
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Kissin' and hope they caught us!
part one
PAIRING (📖) . loser!collegeau!jake x fem!college!reader
ADDITIONAL INFO (💻) . porn with VERY little to no plot, fluff if you squint, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do that pls), soft!dom!jake turns into a slight hard!dom, jake comes inside, they're so in love with each other, it's implied they have another round at the end. (did not proofread this btw 🙊)
Word Count (📃) . 3.2K
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Your place was so pretty. Everything about it screams you.
He looks around in awe, admiring the numerous houseplants perched on shelves and your window sill. He remembered you mentioning that you didn't want to spend an extra 10 to 15 grand on a dorm that you would hate. Instead, you saved up years of paychecks to rent an apartment off campus.
It feels so intimate when it's only you two. Alone. What can happen between two people who are alone? Did he mention that you guys were alone? In your apartment. After getting the best head of his life (as if he had others to compare to). Every provocative thought he's ever had about you is prodding at his brain, teasing him and mini him down there.
"You can get yourself situated, I'm gonna go change into something more comfortable." You say shortly before disappearing into your room.
He carefully sits on your couch, hands placed on each knee. He's nervous, okay? He continues to examine your living room, liking the cozy atmosphere the warm string lights bring.
Eyeing the Polaroid pictures hung in a zig-zag pattern on your wall near your TV, he notices a specific picture of you two outside a movie theater. He recalls the fond memory, a small smile appearing on his face. It was a fun night that he needed desperately. Looking back at it now, he realizes that before meeting you— his nights were mainly spent isolated in his dorm or the study room in the library. How sad.
"Okay, let's do this!" You cheer, walking over to where Jake sits, bringing the boy out of his thoughts (which seems to be an occurring habit).
Jake turns his head and takes one look at you to know that he's doomed.
You were in a pink, floral two-piece pajama set. The top barely covered your chest. Fuck. And you were not wearing a bra. He can see your hardened nipples poking through the cotton fabric. And your shorts? God, they did nothing to cover your plump ass. He can see your cheeks peeking out, jiggling with every step.
You knew exactly what he was thinking about. You had him wrapped around your finger the second you got down on your knees (jokes on you though, he was yours the second you laid eyes on him for the first time. He'll never admit that though).
"Alright, where did we leave off?" You hum, plopping down right next to him. You shifted onto your knees, leaning the side of your body against the backrest of your couch.
"I.." He trails off, letting out a shakey breath. He scrunches his nose to lift the frame of his glasses higher. How could he answer this question? Were you talking about the physics you guys went over before you.. y'know? Or were you talking about that?
Cute. You thought.
"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Anatomy." You emphasized with a smile, tilting your head slightly to the left.
His eyebrows perk up, "O-Oh. Yeah.. anatomy." He clears his throat, stealing a quick glance at your exposed cleavage.
You push your breasts together with your arms as you lean forward, "I'm more of a visual learner by the way." You whisper against the shell of his ear. Yeah, he definitely knows by now.
His hands shift off his knees and onto the cushion beside his thighs when you crawl onto his lap.
He whimpers at the feeling of your clothed cunt sitting atop his growing erection. He closed his eyes momentarily, the sensation already overwhelming him. Someone end him now before he cums in his pants.
You rest your hands on his shoulders, "I've always found you cute, Jakey." You mumble, feeling him twitch underneath you. Oh? Guess you found another weak spot of his. "Always wondered what your lips feel like.." You trail off, taking his lips in yours.
His hesitant hands finally find a spot on your waist, his cold hands against your warm skin make you shiver. His lips move with yours in a messy rhythm. It was sloppy but filled with such need and desperation.
He can't wrap his head around the fact that he managed to get his dick sucked before getting a kiss from you. But it's all real when you grind down on his bulge, earning a painful groan from the boy. You make him so unbelievably hard, it's embarrassing.
You break away from the kiss, biting back the smile that threatened to form when you catch the fog forming in his glasses. Oh, how you want to ruin this man. "I've always wanted to do this with you," You start off, lips trailing down his chin, to his neck, then to his collarbone, "Do you want this as much as I—" You bite down on his bare flesh and he whimpers, "Do?" Jake moans when you start grinding down against him at a slow, agonizing pace, "Fuck— Yes." He hisses through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your sides, forcing your hips to rut against his even faster.
You raise the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle your sounds. The friction of his bulge rubbing against your aching clit through your shorts had you bucking your hips forwards, "A-Ah, Jaeyun!" You squeak out, hands going to wrap around the boy's wrists. "Mm.. so s-sensitive." He grunts, lips finding a place on your neck. He continued to kiss around, sucking multiple marks on your skin until one particular spot had you moaning out his name. Yeah, he may be inexperienced, but there's a thing called porn. He knows it's not the best source to learn from, but hey, it gets the basics down
You can feel one of his hands inching up your sides, almost as if he was hesitant to do something. You did him a favor by pulling his hand farther up your torso till he's practically groping the side of your breast. "I'm not made out of glass, Jake." You reminded him with a breathless giggle. You soon feel a familiar sensation begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. You hadn't realized just how horny you actually were. Like every touch he left on your skin made you burn for more. If you weren't careful, you might last shorter than you expected
"Jake, I-I think you should slow down." You gasp when you feel him bite down on your neck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to know it'd leave a mark for the next few days. You can feel him shaking his head against your neck, almost frantically like he was going to lose something, "Not when I can feel you sh-shaking against me." How does he—?
You arch your chest more into his hands. The same hands you spent hours daydreaming about. The ones that were gently fondling your boob through your shirt, thumb grazing against your perky nipple. "I'm close, Jake."
The times when you curse Jaeyun for being a little too into his studies, especially now when he's taking his time in studying how your body reacts to his touches.
You would make a snarky comment if it weren't for Jake humping against you right now, bringing you extremely close to your high. "Shit. Me too, Y/n." He moans into your neck, hands hooking underneath your arm to grab at your shoulders, bringing your body to be as close to his. The smell of your fruit-scented shampoo floods his senses, spurring him to come undone in his pants with a drawn-out groan.
You were surprised to find yourself liking that more than you thought. It was so hot to see him cum merely by humping you. Some people would find that to be embarrassing, but for you, it only made you yearn for him even more. If it was any other guy— well. Jake wasn't any other guy. With him, he could literally start barking while calling you mommy (projecting yourself much?) and you'd still find him to be the most handsome guy you've ever laid eyes on.
"Fuck! M-My god, yes!" With a few frantic rolls of your hips, you felt the coil within you snapping and a wave of ecstasy washed over you almost immediately, causing you to twitch against the man below you.
You were only given merely a minute to calm down from your high before feeling his hand snake from your chest down your stomach. "Jake?" Your legs clamp around his hand that was currently in your shorts, prying your soaked panties to the side, "Wh.. What are you— oh." He runs his middle finger down between your slicked folds, the tip prodding at your entrance.
Your senses were heightened as your post-orgasm haze still lingered. You didn't know if you should tell him to keep going or not. But in all honesty, why would you want him to stop? If this is the chance to finally have those long, slender fingers you've spent countless hours daydreaming about inside of you, why stop now?
He watches as your face contorts when he slides a finger in. He isn't sure where this new-found confidence came through. Did it come after he had his dick shoved down your throat? Or when he made you cum undone? He's not complaining when he currently has you falling apart on his fingers. "You're so wet.. makes it so easy for me to just slip it in." That must've done something with the way you cried out his name. Or maybe it's when he curled his finger against a certain spot that made you see white.
He easily slips in another, immediately curling it to rip out another cry from you. "Keep moaning like that, baby."
The pet name makes you clench around his fingers, and he couldn't help but grin. "Jake..please."
"Yeah? You want more?" He asks heatedly, curling and uncurling his fingers again, making you shudder against him.
You spread your legs farther apart, nodding as your lip was tugged between your teeth.
Jake slowly pulls his fingers out of you, only to go rub small circles on your puffy clit with his thumb. Having the girl of his dreams turning to putty in his hands? It was an ego boost he thought he'd never needed until now. Plus, it was so fucking hot.
In the meantime, you stripped your top off while Jake tugged down his sweats along with his boxers till his cock sprang free. It stood upright and proud, tip red and leaking. You swallowed hard, worry beginning to poke at you. If it barely could fit in your mouth without forcing it, how was he going to fit in you?
But you have no time to ask questions when you find yourself hovering above his tip, using a free hand to help align it to your entrance.
You both sucked in a sharp breath when you sunk down till only the head was inside. You know it's going to be a really tight fit. His hands curiously cupped both of your breasts, relishing in how soft they were against his hands. "You're sucking me in, holy shit." Jake curses, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt inch by inch.
By the time you were halfway, you took a deep breath before sinking fully down in one swift motion till he reached the hilt inside of you.
Jake cursed your name out loud while his hands made their way back onto your waist, only this time was his grip harder than before. You let out a mewl that could only be compared to coming straight out of a porno. Tears swelled up in your eyes, which Jaeyun kissed away when it spilled down your cheeks. The stretch was a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. It hurts since he's the biggest you've ever taken. But it feels so good with the way he's prying your walls apart, stuffing you full. Your imagination could never live up to the real feeling.
What caught you by surprise though was Jake suddenly laying you down on the couch, towering over you while his dick still nuzzled deep within.
His glasses threatening to slip off at any given moment. As much as you would love to watch him fuck you with his adorable little specs on, you can't afford to risk it breaking and then never seeing him in those specs you love so much. You reached up and carefully pulled it off, folding it before placing it on the coffee table next to you guys.
He gives you a warm smile, and you feel your chest churn at the sight. God, this boy seriously has such an effect on you.
"Thank you." His accent is evidently thick, making you unintentionally clench down on him, causing him to groan. "Fuck, don't do that, baby." He mumbles weakly before leaning down to kiss you tenderly, running his tongue over your bottom lip.
You slip your hands underneath his shirt, feeling up his body. You can feel how toned he was against your palms. You pull away with a little smile, “Since when did you have abs?” You help slide it over his head, discarding the shirt somewhere in your living room. “Oh. I uhm, I work out in my spare time.” He explains. And only then do you glance over at his arms, soaking in the sight of his arms naturally flexing to show off his muscular biceps.
How much did you have to beg to have him put you in a chokehold?
"I like you, a lot." Jaeyun suddenly confesses, taking you by surprise.
"Jake. You're currently balls deep inside of me. You think I would let you do this if I hadn't liked you?"
You both stared at each other till you both burst out giggling. Seems that you guys were busy basking in your own perverted thoughts to realize how obvious your feelings appeared to be.
"For a nerd, you sure are stupid."
"For..." He starts, "Yeah, I got nothing." He laughs, combing back a strand of hair away from your pretty little face.
Shortly afterward, he goes to plant open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hands roam throughout your naked body, making sure to not leave an inch of your skin untouched.
You slightly grew impatient, resulting in you rolling your hips upwards.
His big hands pin your hips down onto the couch, forcing you to stay put, "Y-You need to stop doing that." He whines.
Before you could get something out, he was quick to pull out halfway only to slam back in. His mushroom tip rammed perfectly into your cervix, ripping out a choked-out sob from you.
His hands grab the back of your knees before pinning them up against your chest. He positions himself up on his knees, allowing himself to set a slow rhythm.
In between each thrust, he'd purposely thrust his pelvis flush against your ass then roll his hips, making you feel exactly how big he is. "Like how I feel buried inside this tight pussy?"
"God, yes." You purred, nails digging into his biceps.
Jake's head hung low, unable to pry his eyes away from seeing your pussy lips wrapped around his dick, your cunt swallowing his entire length with ease. He huffs, beginning to snap his hips back and forth at a fast pace.
Your body jolts with every harsh thrust. And all you could do at that moment was to take everything he gave you with a mantra of his name spilling out from your swollen, reddened lips. "o-oh my god! J-Jaeyun, shit!"
Your eyes were everywhere on him. They were eyeing the layer of sweat on his chest that glistened due to the lights. Then they traveled down between your legs, watching Jake pound into you with such determination.
His hand grasped your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he could watch how you reacted to his relentless thrusts. His thoughts were in disarray, drunk off the sensation of your walls squeezing around him as if you wanted to milk him dry. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited, babbling out incoherent nonsense. "Oh fuck, oh, god, fuck yes! There! Just like that, fucking god!"
You were nearly sobbing at this point. It was almost too much when you felt a fire pooling low in your abdomen. Jake could sense you were near with the way your walls were fluttering around his dick. "Are you close, baby?" He rasps, pressing his forehead against yours.
Your eyes were screwed shut, and the only thing open was your mouth which poured out a series of obscene noises along with a choked 'yes!'.
Jake bought his other hand up to rub fast circles against your clit, bringing you over your tipping point. "'m gonna cum, jae! Fuck— I'm cumming!" Like a spring coiling tightly and then being released, your orgasm crashes down on you. You feel both your body and mind dissolving into pleasure, clamping tightly around Jake's cock as a result.
You forced your eyelids apart in time to see Jake's face contort as his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic. His jaw hung low, tongue nearly poking out the side of his mouth (just like a puppy). "Gon' cum inside you, y/n. I like you so—" With a lewd cry, he nuzzles his face into your neck before fucking his cock deep into your sopping pussy, spurting out ropes and ropes of his hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls.
His hips stuttered against yours. And you moan because you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, continuing to pump more cum inside you. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if it began to leak out by now. "stuff you full of my f-fucking cum.. god, this tight pussy's milking me dry."
Although visibly spent from his mind-numbing orgasm, he made sure not to crush you by falling limp beside you.
You both bask in your post-orgasm daze by holding each other closely. His arm was slung around your waist whilst you nuzzled your face against his chest. His heart was palpitating, but he wasn't sure if it was from the earth-shattering sex he just had, or if it was the fact that he currently has you engulfed in his arms... after the most earth-shattering sex you guys just had.
"We should study together more often." Jake says, sending you a wink before reaching over to grab his glasses from the coffee table.
"Or.." You grab his glasses out of his hand, "We could do this more often," You slip on his specs, "—as boyfriend and girlfriend."
"Really?" He questions, eyebrows perking up. You can imagine the dog ears on him perking up as well.
You smile wholeheartedly, "Yes, really."
His hand cups the side of your face before he eagerly captures your lips into a passionate kiss. Your lips molded with his as if it were a perfect fit.
You pull away, letting him nuzzle his face into your neck, "Jake." You call out softly.
"Hm?" He answers.
"Were you planning on pulling out anytime soon?"
He pulls away from your neck to give you a playful smile. "I mean.. I can go for another round."
140 notes ¡ View notes
slasherx ¡ 8 months ago
Note
Hey 👋🏽
Can you do the Sinclair twins with a female s/o who was like in a relationship before they killed their father and she left town but like years later they found her again and like kidnaped her so they can be together again
Ooo Diablo you always come up with the most scrumptious ideas *rubs hands together evilly*
Content: Bo SInclair x fem!Reader, Vincent SInclair x fem!Reader (separate)
Warnings: Kidnapping, Bo slaps you across the face
Notes: My first time writing Bo and second time writing Vincent...I hope I did okay!
• ───────────────── •
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❥Bo Sinclair
Bo found you in a grocery store in the next town over. When had you come back to Louisiana? He remembers the day you broke up with him - you were going out of state to college and didn't want to do long distance with him.
So much has changed since then. He's changed so much since then. He waited for you to check out, then abandoned any cart or food he hand in his hands to follow you out to your car. Luckily you parked in the back so nobody saw him knock you out and drag you to his car, which also coincidentally wasn't far from yours.
Stuffing you in the back seat, he used the seatbelts to tie your hands up and began driving back home. When he arrived there, he called for Vincent to help him bring you in. Vincent was surprised to find you instead of groceries in the backseat. He signed to Bo, "What is this?"
"Well it damn sure ain't groceries, Vince. Now help me get her up to my room."
Vincent cringed at that but decided to help him anyway. He held you by your ankles and Bo held you by your wrists as they brought you upstairs, where Bo promptly tied you to the bed. He shooed Vincent out of his room before sitting next to you.
You looked so peaceful, and in his deranged mind he thought you knew he was with you, and thats why you seemed so peaceful. Smiling, Bo leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Welcome back home, darlin."
You woke up shortly after, in a familiar room, but not one you thought you'd see ever again. It didn't help that Bo was sitting right next to you. "Bo...? What...?"
You tried to move but the restraints wouldn't allow you. The situation settled into your brain - you were in Bo's room, and you couldn't move. The last thing you remember is being at the grocery store, loading your groceries into your car. You had been kidnapped, and Bo was your captor.
"Bo, let me go." You looked at him.
"Sorry sweetheart. I can't really do that."
"Bo let me go now!" You thrashed against your restraints.
"Its no use darlin. I let you go before but, after some careful consideration I realized I never wanna let you go again. So, now you're back here, with me and Vinny and Lester! Ain't that great?" Bo got close to you, a smile spread on his face.
You spat in his face. Bo then promptly slapped you across the face out of reflex. "Now darlin I'm sorry for slappin you, but you need to re-learn some manners it seems. College ruined you, but it's okay. I'm a patient man, we can figure this out."
"What are you talking about?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes.
"I'm talking about how you're mine forever. Your place is here, in Ambrose, beside me. I want no other woman, Y/n." Bo caressed your face.
"You're fucking crazy."
"For you." Bo smiled again.
• ───────────────── •
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❥Vincent Sinclair
Bo had called for him from the upstairs level, something he rarely does unless there's people. Begrudgingly he left his sketchbook on the table and came upstairs.
"I got somethin for you." Bo grinned. "I think you'll really like it."
His brother led him out to his truck, and when he opened the back seat, he saw a person laying there. But not just any person, it was you. You who he had lost when your family decided to move out of Ambrose years ago.
He never forgot you. In fact, he hadn't been with anyone else since you had left. He'd always had a feeling you would come back. But, he felt bad that this was how you'd been brought back to him. He had hoped the attraction would open up Ambrose again and you would come back, just like you said you would.
He signed a thank you to Bo and immediately started to pull you out of his truck. Bo watched quizzically, not bothering to help just yet. When Vincent had pulled you out of the truck, he didn't account for your upper half and you promptly slid to the ground.
Bo hissed between his teeth. "That's gonna hurt. Need some help getting her downstairs?"
Vincent nodded, and the brothers uncharacteristically worked together to bring you downstairs. Bo helped tie you up to his bed and then gave Vincent a pat on the back. "Do what you want with her, but wrap it up, if you know what I mean."
Vincent rolled his eye at his brothers implications. Bo just patted his shoulder and then turned to leave. As he left, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you looked around. You were in a familiar place, but not a place you'd been to in some years.
Seeing movement, your eyes focused onto the man before you. You instantly recognized him. "Vincent?"
He nodded. You moved to try to hug him, but the restraints kept you in place. You then realized what was happening. You had been kidnapped, and Vincent was keeping you here. Your expression turned sad. You never thought your Vinny could be capable of something like this.
"Vinny..."
"Its okay," he signed. "I'll take care of you, and you don't have to do anything in return."
"Take care of me? Vinny, this isn't a permanent thing, I have to get back to my family."
"You are family. You are mine. I won't let you go again. Ever." He got closer to you as he signed.
"Vincent, you cannot keep me here forever." You tried to keep your soft tone but you were beginning to freak out as the reality set in.
"Watch me."
• ───────────────── •
Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!
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makos-ribcage ¡ 10 months ago
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No one loses ㅡ ༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
[] - You make Sanji jealous with the help of Zoro
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𓇼afab!reader, she/her
! - Toxic relationship, hard language, sanji angst, soft nsfw and implied harsh nsfw
so ive realized how many ppl dont add the fact that sanji is a player when writing stuff about him, so i wanted to write smth based on it, i rlly like the start, enjoy :) if this get enough love ill write a second part :o
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You knew what you were getting your ass into. You just didn't expected for it to be so bad from time to time.
You've been dating Sanji for a little longer than 3 months know, but knew him for years. You knew about his issues when it came to women. The fact that he would become a total dumbass, blindfolded, stupid ass man the second a woman appeared in his sight.
You knew that, but you also knew you really loved him, he would make you really happy, you loved the way he was such a gentleman, how he kept himself motivated despite his tragic past and every single little detail about his personality and looks that made him unique.
He also loved you deeply, more than any other woman, he thinks you're the prettiest and best woman out there. But that doesn't stop him to go back to his brainless self in front of women every now and then. You would usually just scold him a little, touch him or just talk to him and he would remember that he was taken and that he had to control his ass.
But not that night, you didn't even recognized him.
Once the Straw Hats became popular, a good amount of pirates and even just random people became "fanatics" of you. Fanatics of Sanji as well.
That blonde cook was good looking, with a deep sensual voice mixed with his height and his ability to cook, enough to make any woman fall over heels to him. Now that his popularity grew, women would even let slide when he was borderline a pervert just to get close to the straw hats or being able to fuck anyone that was part of the crew.
You were at a fancy bar, taking a lil rest from the piracy. Each one of the Straw Hats had a small group of people come around them as they entered the place and each one of them got rid of them in their own way.
Zoro ignored women until they grew tired, Nami stole every single men's wallet, Robin freaked them out with her hands, Luffy acted like Luffy, Usopp told a few lies so obvious that women realized it and you insulted any guy that approached you.
But Sanji? Oh, no. He totally forgot the fact that he was in a relationship the second more than 3 women surrounded him. Flirting with them, telling them that he can cook anything that they wanted, using that deep raspy voice that he knew you loved and place his big soft hands on the women's thigh.
You tried to get him out of there but he would make a comment about "Being enough for everyone", when you called him he basically ignored you, when you touched him he barely noticed. You felt terrible,
After that humiliation, you decided to seat down, your sadness quickly being replaced by anger. You stared at him from the bar with your drink in one hand. He was sitting on the opposite side of the bar with a bunch of women, one on each side of him, the rest surrounding him, massaging his shoulders, giving him compliments, making sure their boobs touched his arms.
You snapped when you saw one of those girls grab his cheeks and playfully kiss his lips. Him just accepting it with a big dumb smile on his face. What the fuck was he even thinking about? You came to the conclusion he wasn't thinking at all.
If he wanted to play a jealousy game, you could play too, and you were going to be the best at it. You knew how to hurt him, you were his girlfriend after all. Zoro.
Zoro and you were quite close. You were strong and independent and he really respected that coming from a woman, specially considering his childhood. You both saw each other as the same, you used to train together, you knowing he wasn't going to hold back because "You're a girl".
It wasn't something unknown that Sanji hated Zoro for some reason, he hated the fact that you trained together, getting to a point where he would just sit and watch your training sessions just to make sure he wasn't going to try anything on you.
You approached him on the bar. He was drinking one of the many drinks that he had planned for the night, slightly drunk but so were all of you. He stared at you as you came closer.
"I need help." You told him, an angry expression on your face that he mimicked right away, thinking it was a dead or life situationship. "Help me get Sanji jealous." His face relaxed.
"Are you serious?" He whispered, feeling like you were teenagers at school.
"Very. Look at him!" You pointed at him, knowing that you could be yelling his name and he wouldn't notice, he was staring directly into some women boobs as he grabbed her waist. "I'm mad as fuck, and you hate him, let's make him mad. No one loses" Besides of Sanji, of course, but he deserves it.
Zoro considered it for a second. He did hated him, he did wanted to help you and you were hot. He gets to be drunk, flirt with a hot girl and make his nemesis mad, he truly don't loses anything.
He chugged his drink, then stared at you. "'Kay, what's the plan?". You smiled.
He put one of his hands on your hip, his hand lingering to your ass slowly. Both of you stood next to a wall near Sanji, you against the wall and Zoro in front of you. Now that you had him so close you realized how big he was. Sanji was tall, sure, but Zoro was big, he covered your body completely, and you felt tiny with his hand on your waist.
Zoro put a happy hand on one of your thighs again, playfully sticking a few fingers under your skirt, wanting to make the best of the situation now that he was at it. You placed a hand on his chest, and he drew you closer with his free hand. Talking to each other while being very near of each other faces. You could breathe the alcohol on Zoro's mouth, and he had a nice view of your cleavage.
Sanji stared at both of you in confusion, he was jealous of you simply talking to him back in the Sunny, seeing both of you so touchy definitely called his attention. But not enough for him to put a stop to his playful flirting with the women.
"It's not working..." You whispered to Zoro, directing your view to Sanji, slightly pouting. He stared into your eyes. "How jealous you wanna make him?".  He grabbed your chin, making you face him again. Oh, he was drunk drunk.
His hand drifted to your neck, squeezing it slightly, enough for you to open your mouth slowly to breathe better. Not even trying to dismiss it as a romantic kiss, he licked your lips slowly, kissing you and quickly turning it into a french kiss.
Out of surprise, and maybe something else, you slightly moaned in his mouth, and you felt his lips curl up into a small smile. His hands kept you in place by your waist, you touched his chest not being sure what to do, deciding to hug him by the neck and pull him closer as well. That heated kiss lasted longer than you expected. Zoro's hands explored your body confidently, the hand on your neck slowly going down until reaching one of your boobs.
You grabbed his wrist, not sure if it was being too much. But his hand didn't stopped at all and you didn't knew if Sanji saw you.
It was something childish and dumb, you didn't just wanted to make him a little jealous, you wanted him to feel bad, as bad as you felt watching him not pay attention to you just get some other girls boobs on his face. It made you feel terrible, feel like you weren't enough, like you were replaceable and you were just some girl he said yes to being her boyfriend just to have some pussy that he was certain he would have available always.
Zoro broke the kiss first, staring directly to your red lips, not because of lipstick but because of such type of kiss.
You felt a presence next to you, when you turned your head, Sanji was there, clearly really mad.
"Oh, you're here, I thought I'd had to fuck Zoro to call your attention." You said, probably as mad as him, but keeping a calm nonchalant expression. It was obvious his actions affected you, but you didn't wanted to show that they did, yet.
"I don't mind." Zoro said, back to his usual, less hot, self, also staring at Sanji.
Sanji pushed both of you aside, deciding to deal with you first and then beat the living shit out of Zoro after he was done with you.
He grabbed your hand dragging you out of the bar. Being cornered in a wall once again on an alley a few streets out of the bar and near the docks where the sunny was, now by your boyfriend, you stared at him straight into his eyes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He said, clear anger on the sound of his voice. "Out of all the men on that bar, It had to be Zoro, of course." He was mad, you could tell, but you decided to play your little act of not caring for longer.
"Yeah, but they were focused on how you were almost fucking every single girl in the bar, I bet they were jealous." You said, staring right into his eyes, he seemed to feel ashamed of his actions, just for a few seconds, a feeling that faded quickly as you kept talking. "But Zoro didn't seem to care, and since you were experimenting with girls hotter than me, I thought I'd do the same with someone hotter than you."
His face turned red quickly. He grabbed your face with one hand harshly. A grip tight enough to make your face hurt a little.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled at you, startling you for a second, but you were sure he wouldn't hurt you, either because you trusted him, because you were drunk or because you were mad, you weren't too sure.
"I don't know, you tell me, you've been an asshole to me all night!" You answered, as harshly as him, quickly getting more and more heated by his lack of excuses, you knew you were wrong, but so was him. And he started the whole deal so he had to apologize first.
He released your face, placing his hand on one of his hips as the other one rested next to your head against the wall. "Of course not! I'd never do such thing! You were the one almost fucking Zoro." Now he was treating you like you were insane. Flirting with other girls was already bad enough, but acting like you hallucinated everything and faking dementia was going to make you genuinely insane.
"Yes you did such thing!" You mocked him, watching his gaze get madder and madder. "I even saw you kiss one!"
"Nope, I don't remember that" He played dumb, and you stared at him dumbfounded.
"You're unbelievable! I can't believe I even started dating you!" You turned your head way from him.
He stared at you in surprise, he knew he had a problem, but he did love you, as much as his stupid behavior allowed him. "What the fuck do you mean?" His expression of surprise was quickly replaced by the same stare of anger you saw directed to you all night. You were forced to face him again as he grabbed your forearm with a little too much strength. Pulling you closer where you could feel his familiar breath. "I mean that I hate you!" You replied quickly, not giving it a lot of thought, probably going to regret saying that as much as he's going to regret not paying you attention that night.
"Fine! I hate you too!" He answered, not letting you go neither pulling you away despite of his words. You stared at him, his blue eyes that looked at you with a hatred that you didn't believe was genuine at all, he probably thought the same of your own stare of hatred.
"Fine." You whispered, looking down to his lips for a few seconds, as you licked yours.
"Fine." He mirrored your expression. Staring into your lips.
Before you could even process that you "Hated each other", you pulled him closer, pressing your lips into his own. He placed a hand on the back of your head while the other one got around your waist.
You gripped his shirt as the kiss continued, unbuttoning the first buttons of his shirt while Sanji's hand on your waist lingered lower and lower.
"Let's go to the sunny." You felt that deep, raspy voice that you loved against your lips once again.
"Yes."
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mishietishie ¡ 1 month ago
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行かないでくれ。Please, don't go.
Trueform!Ryomen Sukuna x elder!Reader
Tags: Angst with no comfort, ooc Sukuna, Sukuna calls reader 'wife' so fem-alligned!reader ig?, dementia and death
A/N: So like I had a depressive episode and now I want you all to suffer
.
.
.
It was a quiet summer afternoon. You were perched under your favorite sakura blossom tree. Your husband, Ryomen, was sat right next to you, his four eyes closed and your hands in his, fingers intertwining.
You had just scattered some seeds on the ground for the ducks to eat. Now you were looking as they pecked on them, a smile on your wrinkled face. You could hear a huff next to you, and when you turned to look at your husband, you were met with his crimson gaze on you, a half smirk on his face.
"You should stop feeding them. They're fat enough as is."
You rolled your eyes at that, leaning your head against his broad, tattooed shoulder. Your boney thumb caressed the back of his hand out of habit.
"You always say that. They're not even fat."
Ryomen let out a 'tsk', one of four his hands coming to rest at your head against his shoulder, caressing your soft, grey locks
"Yes they are, wife."
It was a routine the two of you have established, you would always be sitting under the same sakura blossom and converse while you fed the ducks. One day, you were both sat under it again. But this time, you didn't scatter seeds like you usually did. Ryomen hummed, brushing your silver locks through his fingers.
"Hmph, finally decided they were fat enough, haven't you, wife?"
You looked around a bit before looking up at your husband, as if making sure he was talking to you despite the fact you were alone.
"Ducks? What ducks? I don't see any."
The salmon haired curse looked down at you with a raised brow, clicking his tongue before replying with a grumble in his voice
"The ducks you feed everyday, obviously. Don't play games with me, woman"
That just seemed to confuse you even more. You don't exactly recall feeding any ducks.
"Ryomen, I think you hit your head, I never fed any ducks."
Your husband had to hold back a remark. It was strange that you forgot something you do daily. But he could sense you weren't lying, so how was it possible? Unless..
The King of Curses cleared his throat, gently rubbing your side with another arm
"It's getting late, let's go inside, wife. Uraume made your favorite."
Your eyes brightened a little at the mention of your favorite food. A smile spread over your wrinkled lips. Your frail, boney arms went to use Ryomen as your support, your legs shaking as you slowly got up. Once you did, your husband handed you your cane and supported your back with hand, stabelizing you.
After a delicious lunch with your husband, you were sat on the bed. Your eyes gazed through the room, as if in a trance. When Ryomen entered the room, he noticed you mindlessly gazing. He sat next to you on the bed, looking down at you.
"Ryomen, where am I?"
When that question left your lips, The Cursed King's eyes widened slightly. Forgetting a part of your daily routine is one thing. But forgetting where you are is something he wasn't hoping for. He let out a sigh, placing his hand over yours
"You're home, wife. In our bedroom."
Your mouth went into an 'o' shape, realizing slowly where you were
"Oh, what was I going to do?"
Ryomen breathed out through his nose in slight irritation. Not because of your question, but because of the reason why you were asking those questions.
"You were.. about to take a nap, wife."
His arms went to slowly lift your legs up once he said that, draping the covers over your wrinkly, old body. Once you were properly tucked in, he pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing it softly.
"Rest well, wife."
He mumbled before slipping under the covers next to you, holding your body close to his with a gentleness that he had achieved over the years of being married to you.
.
.
Day by day, your forgetfulness had gotten worse. During breakfast, you didn't recognize his loyal servant and cook, Uraume. When he brought you to the koi pond you loved so much, you didn't look at it with the same fondness as before.
Despite Ryomen's distaste for humans, except you, he had brought you to a doctor, who said you had an 'umbrella disease' called dementia. Which made you forget little and big things from your daily life. When Ryomen asked if there was any cure, the doctor shook his head. It made your husband's non-existent heart drop, the bit of hope he had for his wife to be 'cured' was gone.
But he stood strong.
Everyday, he would do small activities with you, like going on a picnic date. Not just for your joy and happiness, but also for the small thread of hope he had that maybe you'll remember some things from the past, like the outings to festivals you two always had.
But alas, just as the doctor said, much to his dismay, you never could remember. You just kept forgetting, and forgetting. It was a part of the life of a mortal.
One quiet evening, you were sat on your favorite reading chair next to the fireplace, reading a book. Atleast you didn't forget that, Ryomen thought, who was sat on his own chair next to you. Your hands were held together, fingers intertwined. At a certain moment, the silence was interrupted by your voice, whispering softly.
"Ryomen.."
The pink-haired curse looked to the side. Your book was shut closed on your lap, and you were staring at the fireplace. His brows furrowed as he went to kneel infront of you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand
"Yes, wife? What is the matter?"
You breathed in deeply, your eyelids heavy and your lips quivering ever so slightly as you breathed back out
"I love you.."
It was at that moment that The King of Curses realized that your cursed energy had faded away, like sand escaping through his fingers. He couldn't feel your heart beating, and he couldn't feel your warmth anymore.
.
.
.
You had left him.
And he couldn't even tell you he loved you back.
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thewritetofreespeech ¡ 11 months ago
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Could I request Gojo's reaction to his s/o, who has the ability to perceive the future, getting harassed because her client's not happy about their future?
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Satoru hummed a happy little tune as he walked down the busy streets of Tokyo to go see his wife.
He had been blessed with an unusual day off after a quick meeting with the ‘old men’; probably because they were so annoyed with him that they just wanted him to go away. Still, it was a rare treat. So he thought he would surprise his wife by taking her to lunch. She could afford to close the shop for a day.
The sorcerer giggled a little as he wondered if she knew he was coming. With her innate ability to see and predict the future, it was hard to pull surprises on her. But he always tried. Taking the challenge on at every turn to keep his wife guessing and marriage spicy.
“That’s not right! You’re a liar!!”
Satoru’s eyebrows jutted up over his sunglasses, hearing the yelling once he had come in the door. He walked in further to the shop towards the back, where [Y/N] would hold private readings, and saw a woman who had clearly just jumped up from the table and was pointing at [Y/N].
“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the angry looking woman, “but that’s what I see.”
“No! That’s not true! He promised he would leave his wife and be with me! That has to be what my future will be next year!”
“I mean….there’s a possibility that the prediction could change. The future isn’t set in stone but-“No buts! I want my money back!”
“I can’t give you your money back just because you don’t like your prediction. This is a business. If you wanted someone to just agree with you, then you should have just called a friend.”
“They told me to come here! I see now that they just wanted me to get cheated too! You’re nothing but a liar and a con artist! I know my future and it’s to be with him, and you’re just making this up because you’re alone & jealous!”
“If you knew your future, then why did you even come here? Clearly there’s some underlying trust issues if you asked your friends, I assume family, and now a premonitions expert. This is just free advice at this point but maybe this relationship isn’t what you want for you’re future.”
The woman went full red at this point and raised her hand to presumably strike [Y/N]. She never got the chance though as Satoru grabbed her forearm to stop it just as soon as it was raised. “Now, now. Let’s have none of that.”
The woman looked startled and jerked out of his grasp and away from him. “Who the hell are you?”
“Just a concerned customer.” He replied with a cheeky grin, which he could see that [Y/N] did not appreciate out of the corner of her eye. “And also, her husband.”
The woman’s face went from shocked, to a mixture of crushed, back to angry. Clearly realizing that the only person alone in the room was her, but not yet willing to accept it. “I want my money back! Or I’ll sue!”
“Go ahead.” Satoru told her. Then pressed his fingers to his temple, “but I see an arrested in your future if you keep pressing this. Attempted battery is almost just as serious as if you actually landed that punch.” The woman let out an angry huff, then grabbed her belongings and dashed out. “Another satisfied customer.”
“Don’t be mean Satoru.” [Y/N] replied once they were alone and stood up to clean the mess the woman had made of her reading table. “It’s not my fault she’s chosen a hard path. I didn’t even have to use my ability to tell her this wasn’t going to end well. What was I supposed to do? Lie?”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded. Delusional people like that only want to hear what they want to hear.” No one needed psychic abilities to see that.
“What are you doing here by the way?”
“Oh! I came to take you to lunch!” In the commotion, he almost forgot why he was there. “The old men gave me the day off, so I thought I would spend it with you.”
“That’s nice.” [Y/N] said with a smile. “But I have to work Satoru.”
“Why?” He asked with a pout. “You know we don’t need the money. I know you like to work but….you can take off for one day. Plus, shouldn’t you get hazard time for almost having a client flip a table on you?”
[Y/N] chuckled a little. Even if it was a sad sort of noise. “Well…I guess you’re right. The shop will be fine if we close early for today.”
“Hooray!”
Satoru helped her clean up the last little bit and they left. He asked her once, when they were dating, to use her powers on him but she said that she couldn’t. His future had too many variables. Too full of potential. But he knew, even when they first met, that his future was going to be with her.
He didn’t need psychic abilities to see that.
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