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jeonginsleftcheek · 2 months ago

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Dolly III

~ part 3 of the Dolly series

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, elements of horror

synopsis: as a rare doll collector, a unique sex doll piques your interest and you have to own it.

wc: 8.2k

warnings: mentions of bruises, blood and needles, some violence, haunted dolls

nsfw warnings: grinding, praise, lots of kissing, body worship, handjob, cum tasting, oral (m and f), unprotected sex, creampie

~ divider by @bunnysrph

"Good morning, Matilda. Prudence, how do you do? Ah, Mr. Avery. Looking particularly swell today." the dolls stare at you with their big eyes and smiling faces while you greet them just like every day.

Whistling about the kitchen as you prepare breakfast, your life companions are always there to listen to you and bring you comfort.

"You know, we have an exciting new family member arriving to us today. I'm expecting all of you to act polite and give him a warm welcome to his new home." you point your spatula at the dolls that were decorating the kitchen.

"I mean all of you!" you yell out, chuckling after.

"We all know what happens to naughty dolls. You don't want to experience the same scorching punishment they did." you smirk at them and though they are usually silent, it seems like they're even more quiet now.

Alive in your mind, they've heard you and are now shivering in fear but anticipating the arrival of the newest addition to your precious collection.

You really do expect them to be on their best behavior.

Not long after breakfast, your package arrives.

You practically rip open the huge box and tear off all the covers and bubble wrap, throwing them carelessly behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp.

"My my, you're just such a beauty, aren't you?" you smile at the doll staring at you from the box.

"You look like a little angel." your hands cup his cheeks.

"So soft. So sweet. You're going to be perfect for us." you look at him fondly. "Welcome home, Felix."

You lean down to kiss his cute nose, observing the freckles on his face.

He is just stunning, every little crease on him looks perfect and most importantly; he looks alive.

Yes, people might be creeped out by your love of dolls, collecting them, playing with them and hanging out with them but you never cared.

They were everything to you ever since you were a little girl so you spent so much money on getting the most rare and unique dolls you could, even getting a few ones that were supposedly haunted.

The thought of that exhilirated you, and you were convinced all of them were alive especially after you'd find them in different places or hear them giggle and whisper.

You loved that, respected the dolls and their needs but you always let them know that you were the head of the house.

It was going to be the same with this special doll.

As soon as you saw the ad, you wished you could buy all eight of them and have the rarest and craziest collection ever but they were so expensive so you settled on getting only Felix.

He just seemed so sweet and innocent to you, out of all 8 of them, you thought he looked the most doll-like and would go perfectly with your porcelain doll collection; just one of many you had.

You didn't care much that he was a sex doll, but seeing him now up close made you understand the appeal for that too.

You grabbed the manual to skim over it, not really caring about what it says, you were more interested in the letter that was in Felix's hand.

You slowly picked it up and opened it.

Hello,

my name is Felix and I am your comforting doll.

I love cuddles, hugs and kisses, sweets (especially chocolate). And videogames!

Please always keep me close to you as I love to feel your warmth, and no matter what you do with me always end it with a sweet kiss.

"You're a little cuddlebug, hm?" you pout at him. "You're just becoming cuter by the second!"

Finding another paper tucked in the pocket of his jeans, you pull it out and open it too.

My darling!

I'm ready for our first cuddling session!

I hope you bring fluffy pillows and enjoy our first night together.

"Ah! So adorable!" you squeal. "Let me introduce you to everyone." you add, quickly grabbing him and lifting him up.

"Fam, this is Felix, a very special doll. I expect you give him a warm welcome and help him feel at ease here. This is now his home as much as it is yours and I will not tolerate any sour behavior!" you say.

Of course, it's quiet but you know that they've understood you.

One of the ventriloquist dolls lips open and you chuckle.

"Yes, Parker. I know he's pretty. Now close your mouth or you'll catch flies." you chuckle, standing up and making your way to the doll.

With your fingers on its chin, you gently close the wooden doll's mouth.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes! That outfit is atrocious. But don't worry, sweet Felix. I already prepared clothes that I know will fit your pretty face perfectly." you smirk, hoisting Felix in your arms and lifting him up.

Once you make it to your bedroom, you gently lay him down on your fluffy bed and open your wardrobe, looking at the neatly hung up outfits you had ordered online right after ordering Felix.

The dolls on the shelves all stare at him as you whistle a tune, picking out his outfit.

"This should do it." you grab one of them and make your way towards your bed.

"Let's get you out of this... whatever it is." you grip the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it up and gasping when you notice his abs.

"Interesting." you poke his stomach and then his side. "I bet you're ticklish." you add, sliding his arms out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

"Oh!" you gasp again, noticing a few freckles on his chest. "You're so precious, Felix." your finger traces his beauty marks gently, almost making you hypnotized.

You snap out of it and unbutton his jeans, pulling the zipper down and feeling your face flush when you realize your touch had aroused the doll.

"Did you get excited, precious dolly?" you giggle at him, before looking around at the other dolls who were fixated on Felix.

"It is rude to stare." you chastise them, but they continue looking as you slide his pants down and toss them on the floor.

"I think you need help with this, Lixie." you chew on your lip as you hook your fingers in his boxers.

As soon as you slide them down, a wave of embarassment washes over you as you stare at his hard cock, glistening at the tip.

It seems that there are a few freckles on his length too and your thighs press together involuntarily.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, most people you tried to date couldn't understand your obsession with dolls and there was no way you were going to choose them over your doll family.

But, seeing that Felix was a doll and a sex doll at that, you didn't see harm in using him for what he's made for.

"We can help each other, but you can forget about putting that inside me." you warn, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties down.

"This will have to suffice, my little Lixie." you giggle as you throw your leg over him and press your wet core against his cock.

Slowly, you start grinding against him, your arousal coating his cock and balls, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you close your eyes and throw your head back.

It really has been so long, and Felix is so warm and pliant, laying under you taking it.

You speed up as you feel your high building up, you look back down at him and notice that his cheeks are rosy, making him look even cuter.

You whimper as you stare at his pretty face, his tip catching onto your clit a few times and almost slipping inside.

"Don't be naughty, Lixie. Or I'll have to punish you." you whine as his cock catches on your entrance, the tip twitching inside you.

It's as if something flashes in his eyes and you whimper loudly, cumming all over his cock and riding your high against his throbbing erection.

"You didn't cum yet?" you pout, remembering there was something about that in the manual.

"Ah, yes, you like having your hair pulled on." you smirk and continue grinding against him, your fingers now tangled in his hair.

"Cum for me, my angel." you pull on his hair and his cock twitches against your wetness before he explodes on his abs, the warm liquid pooling around his belly button and making you more wet as you grind on him once again, his cum smeared on your cunt.

You look at him as you stop your movements, your heart beating fast.

"Look what a mess we made, Lixie." you shake your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom, the dolls chilling in your room still with their eyes fixed on Felix.

You come back after cleaning yourself up to clean him too, so you can dress him in the clothes you bought him.

It's a bit of a struggle but you get a feeling that Felix really wants to cooperate.

"There, now you look like a real angel." you smile as you lean back, satisfied with the white loose pants and the white shirt, embroidered with golden flowers.

"I have some work to do on you yet." you sit him up and then grab some of your makeup.

You gently work on his face, putting some light gold eyeshadow on his eyelids, a few sparkles under his eyes and he seems to be pouting.

"You think I forgot to give you a sweet kiss, don't you?" you smirk. "I didn't, don't worry."

You finish up on his eye makeup then grab a pink lipstick, opening it up and applying it on your lips first.

"A finishing touch." you lean in, holding his face before you press your lips into his heart shaped ones, kissing him gently.

You giggle as you lean away, removing the smeared lipstick and repairing what stayed on his lips with your finger as he practically stares at you.

His eyes seem shiny and warm, something deep and dark inside them too and you can't look away.

"My sweet Lixie. So good for me." you kiss his nose and then his cheeks, making sure to kiss his pretty freckles.

You almost get completely lost in him, forgetting about the dolls watching you until one of them falls down onto the floor with a loud thud, making you jerk away from Felix.

"Jonathan! You startled me!" you reprimand the wooden doll before standing up and coming to it.

You take him in your arms and look at him.

"Are you jealous?" you ask as you gently put him back in his place, fixing his shirt and hat.

"Don't worry, I love you all equally." you pat the doll's head before turning to look at Felix.

You have a feeling that might change soon.

You take Felix to your workshop, a small room where you dedicate your time to repair dolls, sew their torn clothes or make them new outfits, sometimes even making a few dolls of your own.

"Welcome to my workshop, Lixie. I spend lots of time here so I guess you will too. Now, I should've started with this, but you... distracted me." your eyes fall down to his crotch before you look up at him.

"I will make sure you have everything you need and I will always treat you well, but of course I expect that to be reciprocated. Which means you are to behave well in this house, listen to what I say and be good to your brothers and sisters. If you ever do something to break the rules, there will be repercussions. And trust me, you don't want to get on my bad side." you wave your finger at the doll and it seems like he's listening intently, his eyes seemingly fearful as you sit across from him, making eye contact.

"Don't be scared, Lixie. I have a feeling that you're a good boy and that you'll be obedient. We will have no problems, you and I. I'll even reward your good behavior." you smirk at him, caressing his soft cheeks.

You lean in to press a kiss on his lips before you turn to your table and start working on your broken dolls.

Felix stares at you from where you left him, his hands tucked in his lap and eyes fixed on your hunched frame.

You almost forget about his presence as you concentrate on your work, every detail you sew into their clothes, the love you pour into them, in a way giving them a soul of their own.

Your hands seemed to dance as you kept working, until you felt a sharp pain in your neck.

"Ow!" you mutter and sit up, realizing you've been hunched over for too long, your shoulders tense, pain throbbing in your neck. "Time for a break." you announce, your stomach growling after that.

"And food, I guess." you turn to Felix, finally acknowledging his existence.

He looks to you like he wants to say something, even though he is sitting still.

"What is it, Lixie?" you lean in closer, looking right into his eyes.

He stays silent.

"Ah, you're shy. You'll come around. I'll wait for you to show yourself to me." you smirk, kissing his nose, your fingertips tracing the pretty freckles on his face.

After giving him a little kiss, you take him to your garden, which was thankfully surrounded by a tall wooden fence, hiding you away from the rest of the world.

"Sit here and I'll be right back." you sit him down on one of the fancy chairs, brushing away the hair that fell into his face.

You bring a few of your other dolls, sitting them down on the other chairs, bringing all of them a set of china; plates, cups and everything.

It's all themed with pink flowers, making everything look even more proper and fancy.

"Socialize." you wave your hand before disappearing into the kitchen, preparing a quick lunch for yourself.

You walk out into the garden some 15 minutes later with a plate of food for yourself and a glass of juice.

"I hope you're being nice to Felix." you say as you sit down, eyeing the four dolls sitting around the table, Felix being exactly across from you.

He looks a tad timid, and you're 100% sure that the expressions on his face keep changing, you know you're not just imagining it because other dolls you own have changed expressions or positions, some even giggled and whispered.

With your doll experience, Felix doesn't scare you, quite the opposite, you're waiting for him to start talking.

You make small talk with your dolls, about this beautiful day, how sunny and warm it is, how good lunch turned out.

As you continued talking, suddenly one of the cups started shaking and you look at the porcelain doll sitting next to Felix.

"Jenevieve. Don't do that! Behave." you warn but it's too late, the cup flies right into Felix's side, hitting him hard before crashing onto the floor, pieces of it flying everywhere.

Anger bubbles up in your veins as you take a deep breath in.

"You little bitch." you almost growl at the porcelain doll before standing up abruptly and grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"That's it, you're getting punished!" you seethe, walking back into the house as you carry her by her hair all the way down to the basement.

"You're gonna think long and hard about your behavior. And after you do, you will apologize to Felix. Like it or not he is family now." you say before laying the doll in a box and locking it.

"I know you're claustrophobic. So this will be a nice lesson for you never to misbehave again." you smirk before making your way back upstairs.

You quickly run to Felix, gasping when you notice a single tear running down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, angel." you wipe it away quickly, kissing his cheek after.

"Let's see the damage." you undo his shirt and sure enough there is a bruise forming on his side.

"For this, Jenevieve will get a week in the dungeon." you say angrily, your fingertips brushing against the bruise. "I'll take care of you, sweet Lixie. I promise that'll never happen again."

The same evening, you brought Felix to your bed, stripping him out of the shirt so you could take care of his bruise.

You flip through the manual seeing the warning about not bruising the doll and anxiety washes over you, hoping he wasn't now damaged in some irreparable way.

You rummage through your bathroom cabinet, finding a cream that was used for bruises, skipping back to Felix.

"Well, you're warm, you can blush, bruise and cry. And... cum." you giggle quietly. "So I guess this would help you?" you purse your lips before taking some cream out and gently applying it on his bruise.

"There-" you pause, seeing a bulge growing in his pants. "Really? You're so sensitive." you tsked, your hands on his thighs, gripping the flesh shortly.

You look at Felix's face and melt.

He's blushing again, his cheeks rosy followed by the tips of his ears becoming red.

"You're such a cutie." you coo at him. "But you're gonna have to wait a bit. I have to take off your make up and brush your hair. I want you to be all comfy in bed." you nod to yourself, getting up to retrieve makeup wipes and a brush.

You start gently removing his makeup, leaving little kisses on his cheeks and nose, pressing your lips into his plush ones.

After cleaning him up, you take the brush and sit him up more comfortably so you can start brushing his hair.

"Oh you really like this." your eyes widen as you notice him twitching in his pants. "Like your hair played with, my pretty angel?" you twirl a strand of his soft hair between your fingers.

"Give me three minutes." you hurry to your bathroom to get ready for bed before skipping back to Felix excitedly.

"I'm here sweetie." you grab his face and crash your lips against his.

The way he was made, his lips seemed to be kissing back, so soft and sweet against yours.

You kissed him for some time, already addicted to his taste before you started leaving kisses on his jaw, all the way to his ear.

He only seemed to become even more red, the color seeping onto his neck and chest.

"My shy Lixie." you giggle, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

He feels so soft and smells so sweet, making you want to do this forever, just kiss him everywhere as he lays and takes it.

You liked being in control, it made you feel powerful as your hands roamed all over his body, his skin so soft like a baby's, you couldn't stop touching him.

Your lips covered every inch of Felix as you kissed his chest, his arms, his stomach, his hands.

Taking your sweet time to worship him.

You slid his pants off, getting up to put them on the chair where you've already left the shirt.

Felix was blushing profusely and he was very warm as you touched him, his cock throbbing, the tip red and angry, glistening with his wetness.

"You're working yourself up, dolly. You need to calm down a little or I won't give you what you want." you smirk, sliding your hands on his supple thighs, up to his balls where you lightly grazed them with your fingertips.

His cock twitched in protest, his face even redder now.

"If you act naughty, I'll leave you like this all night. Don't test me, my little prince."

Felix's lips seemed pouty at that and you waited a little, only gently caressing his smooth arms, the redness of his face and body subsiding slowly until only his cheeks were rosy like before.

"Good boy." his cock leaked and twitched at the praise.

"Ah, my dolly likes to be praised?" you giggled delightfully, smoothing out his hair.

"I'll keep that in my mind." you winked at him, fingertips grazing against his length before you finally wrapped your hand around him.

"Good boys get rewards." you coo at him, thumbing at his wet slit.

Felix's ears become red again.

"I'll take care of you, sweetie. Don't worry." you whisper as you lean down, leaving kisses all over his skin as you start moving your hand.

You play with him for as long as you want to, torturing his cock as you alternate between fast and slow movements, at times using only one hand and then both or fondling his balls, your lips never leaving his heated skin.

You explore him with your tongue, swirling it around his nipples and noticing how he got even more wet because of it.

"So sensitive. Cute." you kiss his lips, your hand tangling in his hair.

"You wanna cum, dolly? Ah, I wish I could hear you beg, I bet you'd sound so sweet all desperate for me." you coo at Felix, gripping his hair and pulling it back as you jerk him off faster.

He explodes all over your hand and himself, making you gasp from the amount that spurted out, curiosity taking you over as you scoop some of it on your finger, licking it up.

"Mm. Are you strawberry flavored?" you chuckle, swirling your finger in his cum to lick at it again.

"Maybe cotton candy?" you giggle again before kissing him sweetly.

You clean Felix up and cozy up to him, curling your body around his as you wrap your arms around him.

You hope that from that day on, everything goes smoothly; without any more incidents.

The following week passed by just as you expected, with no incidents, the dolls now on their best behavior after they've witnessed Jenevieve being dragged down to the basement.

Felix became an obsession of sorts, you just couldn't keep your hands off of him.

You've never owned a doll like him, and to say that you're infatuated is an understatement.

Constantly kissing him and touching him made you equally as aroused as it did him.

You wanted him in every way, but you didn't want to use all his capabilities on your own, instead you wished he'd snap out of it and do it by himself, participate and react to your touches more than just heating up, blushing or twitching.

You felt sad every day you had to leave for work, leaving Felix alone with the other dolls.

You warned them not to try anything or you'd burn them to a crisp.

But as you finally let Jenevieve out, hoping she had learned her lesson, you had no idea how it would actually make all hell break loose.

"Now, Jenevieve I hope you're sorry for what you've done and that you understand why it was wrong. This can never happen again, okay?" you told her before putting her back in her place.

You sat Felix on your bed, caressing him and kissing him for some time.

"Be a good boy, Lixie." you kiss his forehead.

"And all of you too. Behave or else." you give Felix one last kiss before leaving the house.

It was obvious that some of your dolls felt neglected.

This was their home and in their eyes Felix was an intruder they had to get rid of.

He was taking up all your time, soaking up all your attention, getting all your love.

There were dolls that didn't agree, they liked Felix and thought he was sweet just like you did.

Some were just scared to share their opinion, afraid of being locked in the basement, smashed to pieces or burned into ashes.

The neglected dolls had come up with a plan.

They were going to destroy Felix so by the time you come home, there is nothing left to salvage.

"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully as you entered your house, a bag of groceries secured in your arm.

Whistling, you made your way to the living room but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a few drops of red liquid on the floor, something that looked like blood.

You stood in shock for a moment before dropping the bag of groceries on the floor, as they made a loud thud sound, the apples you bought rolling around your living room.

With a gasp, you started running up the stairs, all of them painted in little red dots, anxiety building up with each step you took.

When you reached your bedroom, a shriek escaped your lips, echoing off of the walls.

Felix was thrown on the floor, his body and face bruised and cut up, the outfit you dressed him in torn into pieces.

What was most concerning was the blood dripping out of his wounds.

Your heart started beating fast in fear.

Noticing Jenevieve standing in the corner together with some of your other dolls made your blood boil, your body starting to shake with rage as your eyes blurred with tears.

With a loud growl as rage took you over completely, you ran downstairs to grab your sledgehammer.

"I told you. I told you to behave!" you screamed at the culprits, lifting up your weapon and smashing the first doll that was nearest to you.

"How could you do this?" you cried, continuing to pound your sledgehammer on the dolls, damaging your wall and furniture in the process.

Jenevieve was last and you smirked at her.

"Goodbye, bitch." you said before smashing her into pieces, the sound of porcelain breaking was so satisfying in your ears.

"Do any of you have anything to add?" you looked at the other dolls coldly, the ones that didn't dare move from their designated place.

"Didn't think so." you added, fresh tears sliding down your cheeks as your eyes caught sight of Felix again.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, falling down to your knees and grabbing his face gently.

He was crying.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you alone with them Lixie! I will make this right, I promise!" you cried as you held onto him.

You ran to your bathroom to grab a first aid kit, running back to Felix as fast as you could.

You tended to his wounds, tears falling down your face onto his cheeks and mixing with his own.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." you kept whispering as you took care of him, worry growing inside you when Felix became colder to the touch.

"I think this one needs stitches." you noticed a gash on his hand. "How did they do this? I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Felix."

That night, you brought Felix to your workshop, sewing up his wound and hoping that he would heal just like the bruise from his first day here was healing.

You didn't want to look at your dolls, opting to take Felix to the guest room, the only empty room in the house, getting him all comfy in your fluffiest blankets before you joined him under the covers.

"I love you a lot Lixie. Even though it's only been a week. You're my favorite doll ever." you kissed his cheek before cuddling him, holding him close to your body as you felt him warm up.

A smile spread on your face.

He's going to be okay.

Over the next few weeks, Felix's wounds have healed nicely.

You've asked to work from home so you could be with him all day.

It was quiet in your house, all of the other dolls were now even more afraid of you, after your little sledgehammer revenge.

You cuddled Felix a lot, holding him close whenever you could, playing with his soft hair and doting on him the entire time.

His face seemed to change throughout that time, from an expression of sadness and pain back to happiness and his rosy cheeks.

Once he was fully healed, you decided to bake a chocolate cake to celebrate his recovery.

Of course, he was in the kitchen with you, watching you work on the sweet treat.

You had more than one sweet treat in mind, you thought, giggling to yourself as you swiped some chocolate cream on your finger.

"Mm. So tasty." you smirked, looking directly at Felix.

"You wanna taste?" you took some more, coming closer to him and pressing your finger on his lips.

"Come on, I know you want it." you smirked. "I'll let you taste something even sweeter later."

He didn't react in the way you wanted him to, but his face was quickly becoming red.

Sighing, you leaned back and continued making the cake.

Once it was finished, you decided to let it cool down and take Felix to your living room.

"Look at that. I didn't even touch you." you giggled, the bulge in his pants evident.

He was finally all well and healed so you let yourself explore his body with your hands and lips.

It didn't take long for you to strip him, your eyes glued to his pretty cock, all hard for you.

"You make me wanna do things I usually don't." you sighed, gently stroking him.

"But you've been so good for me, so I gotta reward you." you laid Felix down, kneeling between his legs.

You kissed his thighs, lightly biting into his skin and noticing how he twitched at that.

You wanted to taste him and have him in your mouth which is something you were usually uncomfortable with but Felix made you want to do all those things you thought you never would.

"My good boy." you praise him, your lips pressing gentle kisses into his leaking cock.

Felix's body flushed as you kept kissing and licking at him, your hands sliding slowly on his soft skin, mapping him out.

You kissed his tip, tasting his pre-cum, sweet like cotton candy and you couldn't wait anymore as you wrapped your lips around him.

Your tongue tingled from the sweet taste as you swirled it around his head, a moan escaping your lips and making him leak even more.

Felix's fingers twitched on his side and your eyes widened a little as you took more of him in.

Hoping he would move again, you started bobbing your head faster, taking him in deeper, moaning around him and creating vibrations around his throbbing cock.

His fingers twitched a few more times, every time his tip hit the back of your throat it seemed to make him move.

Determined to snap him out of whatever trance he was in you gave it your all, drooling around his length as you sucked him harder, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls.

Taking you by surprise, Felix came, filling your mouth up with his cum and making you sputter as you didn't expect it.

You managed to swallow some, the rest making a mess out of his crotch.

You knew he was supposed to cum only after you pull on his hair so how did this happen?

Now, you had an even bigger inkling that Felix was alive.

A smirk spread on your lips as you stared at his reddened face.

"D'you want a taste, angel?" you giggled, your hand between your legs.

"Yeah, you do." you added, gathering some of your juices before bringing them up to his lips.

You pushed your finger in his mouth, making him taste you.

"I know you like that, my pretty prince."

You gave him a few kisses before cleaning him up.

"We can eat some cake tomorrow." you told him as you laid him down in your bed, the guest room now becoming your room.

As you cuddled up to Felix that night, you had no idea that he would finally wake up while you slept.

Felix's eyes widened as he fought for breath, his heart beating hard against his chest.

He gripped at the sheets, fisting them in pain as his whole body hurt.

You were sleeping peacefully on your side, facing him and for some reason he was terrified.

Felix saw what you did when you got angry so he didn't want to upset you in any way even though you treated him well, so well that he knew he loved you as much as you loved him.

But with confusion and fear running through his veins, he decided not to wake you up, instead he got up quietly in search of food and water.

He knew that if he took something from the fridge, you'd know he was awake so Felix made his way to your pantry, his feet padding on the floor quietly.

On his way there, his knee collided into a chair and he cursed quietly, his eyes widening as he looked back to the direction of your room.

Felix gulped, listening for some time and after deciding it was safe he entered the pantry.

He found some cookies and in his hunger he devoured most of them, accidentally leaving the wrapper and the crumbs behind.

After drinking some water, Felix returned to bed, deciding to let you sleep and maybe tell you that he's alive tomorrow.

Waking up the next day, you started the morning like any other, kissing Felix's sweet face.

But, something was different this morning.

His eyes were closed.

"Hm." you looked at him and he seemed to be breathing but it was so early in the morning that you thought you had dreamed it up.

Suddenly, your phone rang, scaring you out of your thoughts.

"Hi, Jackie!" it was your childhood best friend, the only person who tolerated your obsession with dolls.

She didn't mind it much and she loved you for who you were, the two of you grew up together, going through all the ups and downs with each other.

"Hey, y/n! I'm in town this weekend so I thought we could catch up." she said cheerfully.

"Of course, I'd love to!" you sat up, momentarily forgetting about Felix as you made your way to the kitchen with a smile on your face.

"Great, I can't wait to share all the tea I have." she said and you giggled before noticing something weird.

There was a glass you didn't touch on the counter, and your pantry door was open so you walked towards it as Jackie yapped in your ear.

As you turned the light on, you noticed half eaten cookies on the floor, the wrapper pulled apart seemingly with teeth.

"What? Do I have rats in my house?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a rat." a deep voice said behind you and you shrieked, turning around, your phone almost slipping out of your hand.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Jackie asked.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." you said as you hung up, staring at Felix as he stood before you with his eyes wide, a timid look on his face, his cheeks rosy and lips pouty.

His hands were clasped together as he played with his fingers.

"F-Felix?" your eyes welled up with happy tears.

"It's me." he said, the depth of his voice shocking you once again, you didn't expect your sweet angel would have such deep vocal chords.

"Oh!" you laughed in delight, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

Felix gasped at your onslaught of love as you squeezed him so tight that you knocked his breath out of his lungs.

"I knew you'd come to me eventually, my angel." you gently took his face in your hands, your thumbs moving back and forth on his cheeks slowly.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" he asks cutely, blinking at you.

"No, no, not at all! Though, you left a mess." you shake your head and his face becomes redder.

"I'm sorry, I will clean it up." he says timidly and you giggle.

"Oh, you are so adorable!" cuteness aggression takes you over completely as you pinch his cheeks and kiss his plump lips repeatedly, making him giggle.

His stomach growled and he looked at you embarassingly, his face red and you chuckled.

"You need a proper meal." you said, deciding to make the classic eggs and bacon combo.

You took his hands and led him to the chair, sitting him down.

"Let me help you." Felix beamed at you.

"It's okay, Lixie. I like taking care of you."

"I know, but I want to do the same for you."

You melted instantly, kissing him again, it was hard to be apart from him.

The two of you made breakfast together, albeit clumsily as he was still confused about everything.

After eating, the two of you sat in the garden, you with your cup of coffee and Felix with his cup of hot cocoa, two slices of the chocolate cake you made last night served on the fine china.

"What made you wake up?" you asked.

"I- I'm not sure. I tried doing it before, I only managed to move my fingers or toes slightly, sometimes my eyes. It was honestly like I was imprisoned in my own body. I wanted to- to reciprocate, hold you properly and take care of you like you do to me." he said, looking away as he blushed once more.

"Ah, you are so sweet my prince. Just how I imagined. I knew you were alive, I was just hoping and waiting for you to break out of the hypnotized state."

"You think I was hypnotized?" Felix tilts his head at you.

"Do you remember anything before coming here?" you ask, reaching out to touch his hand gently.

"I remember this big cold room. And water. So much water. And there were others but I can't remember their faces. We were all there in the big room. There was a voice talking to us, I- I don't know what it said. But I think it was giving out commands." the more Felix talked about his past, the more worked up he was getting, his hands shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to tell me everything right away. It must be upsetting." you quickly stand up, holding his face and caressing him.

"I don't wanna go back there."

"You won't." you smile, sitting in his lap.

Felix freezes, his eyes wide and lips falling open, his face taking on the familiar rosy color.

"Y/n." he looks up at you cutely and you lean in, kissing him lovingly.

"You're no longer just my dolly. You're my boyfriend now." you giggle and he smiles the most beautiful bright smile you have ever seen.

"Oh! I am?"

"Mhm." you nod and lean in to kiss him again, your tongue licking at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth, letting you explore him properly now that he's awake, your hand tangled in his soft hair.

"I love you, Lixie." you kiss the tip of his nose.

"I love you y/n. Thank you for everything. For being so good to me and helping me heal when those dolls..." he shivers.

"Of course. Sorry if I went a little crazy. I know I can be insane sometimes. It's just when I saw you like that on the floor, I felt my heart break. I needed to smash them into pieces so they can never hurt you again."

"No, I'm glad you did that. If I could, I'd fight back."

"I know you would." you smile, shifting on his lap as you caress his face.

Scooting closer to him, you feel him press into you.

"I'm sorry." Felix whimpers, looking everywhere but at you. "I know you don't want to... you know."

"I do. Now that you're awake." you nod and his eyes widen.

"Oh?"

"Let's go inside." you giggle at his shocked expression.

"W-what do I do?" Felix looks at you unsurely as you sit on your bed. "Usually you're in charge..."

"You can take the lead, angel. Whatever you had in mind all this time, you can do now." you smile at him, taking his hands in yours to reassure him.

"I wanna worship you like you do to me." he blushes profusely and you chuckle.

"Of course." you say, the two of you starting with loving kisses, layers of clothing slowly coming off.

Felix lays you down gently, looking panicked for a moment, like he doesn't know what to start with, and as his eyes travel all over your body, the redness on his face spreads to his ears and neck.

Ultimately, he decides to do what you did, leaning down to kiss your neck first.

You throw your head back, giving him space as his plump lips gently travel on your skin.

You close your eyes as Felix's worships you, his lips so sweet on your hot skin, his hands caressing you gently as he slides them on your arms, then to your waist and tummy before slowly going up to cup your breasts.

"L-Lixie." you whimper as he plays with your nipples before leaning in to kiss them, his tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive bud before his pretty lips wrap around it, sucking gently.

"Ah!" you moan, arching into him, arousal dripping from your core.

Felix whimpers when his finger touches your warmness, feeling how wet you got just for him.

He finds your clit, gently rubbing it in circles with his fingertips as he continues sucking on your breasts.

"Want you." you whine and he lifts up.

"C-can I taste you?" he asks, licking his lips and you nod eagerly.

Felix leaves kisses on your tummy all the way down to your core where he presses his lips against your clit.

"Mm, angel." you moan, making him moan too.

His tongue darts out as he starts licking at you and your eyes roll back.

He groans into your core, already addicted to your taste as he spreads you with his thumbs, pushing his tongue in eagerly, as deep as he can.

Your legs tremble a little, your hand ending up in his hair as you hold him down.

Felix keeps grunting into you, his deep voice sending vibrations through you as he laps you up, his button nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

Being sensitive, you can't hold it in too long as you explode, your juices spilling on his lips and chin.

"You taste so sweet." he looks up at you, licking at his lips.

"Come here, I need you." you make grabby hands at him and Felix giggles as he slides up, slotting himself perfectly between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" he asks and you nod.

"Please."

"Anything you want, darling." Felix whispers.

You feel his tip caress your folds and you whine, wrapping your legs around him as he sinks in, slowly opening you up just for him.

You embrace each other, your bodies moving together as Felix makes love to you until you're crying and trembling in his hold, your nails digging into his back as he finally releases his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim.

That night, Felix got to embrace you just how he always wanted.

The next few days pass by in perfect bliss.

You and Felix are attached at the hip, always together, always in each other's arms, lips constantly touching.

You took him out on so many dates and he loved being outside, seeing other people enjoying their day too, feeling the warm sunlight on his face, the gentle breeze caressing his hair.

You'd never been this happy before, never having someone who had seen you at your worst and still loved you for who you are.

Felix also loved helping you around the house, giving you massages and doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable.

He even told you of the dolls who were always nice to him so you'd take them out in the garden to hang out with you and Felix on a nice picnic date.

Even your friend Jackie was happy for you, first asking you to explain how the hell did he go from a doll to a human.

"So, basically, you were alive the whole time?" she scratched her head, as the three of you sat in your garden.

"I guess I was."

"So, do you remember how you were made? Like, are you human or?" Jackie asks, her eyes widened in wonder.

"I honestly have no idea. As I told y/n, I only remember that there was a room and that I was suspended in water."

"It's all so peculiar." you shake your head. "But it doesn't matter. What matters now is that Felix is alive and he is safe here." you kiss his cheek and he blushes instantly.

"If you're happy y/n, I'm happy too." Jackie smiles at you.

"Thanks, J." you giggle.

The rest of the afternoon Jackie fills you in with all the drama that happened in her life since you last saw each other, both you and Felix entertained after getting a scoop.

That night, Felix falls asleep quickly and you stay up just for some time, caressing his face and admiring his beauty.

"Good night, my sweet Lixie." you kiss his forehead before nuzzling into him and falling asleep.

Felix's night is filled with nightmares, after opening the topic of his past with Jackie today, memories started flooding in his mind.

People in white suits, their faces unrecognizable. A huge ceiling with big silver pipes. Water tanks with bodies floating inside them all in fetal position. Connected to a machine with a steady beeping sound echoing off of the walls.

The feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

Felix woke up with a loud gasp, covered in sweat, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

"Lixie? What's wrong?" you sit up quickly as he jostled you awake.

"I- I had a nightmare." his lips tremble, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"It's okay, it was just a dream." you embrace him as he nuzzles into your neck.

You caress him until he calms down.

"It was about that place, wasn't it?"

He nods at your question and you sigh.

"How about we eat some ice cream?" you try to cheer him up and Felix nods quickly, a small smile already appearing on his face.

The two of you are in the kitchen when a loud banging on the door scares you both.

Both of you exchange a fearful look.

The banging starts again.

"Don't." Felix shakes his head, his hands trembling.

"It's okay." you reassure him, making your way to the door.

When you open them, you see five men in suits standing on your doorway, all their faces devoid of any emotion.

"Are you y/n l/n?" one of them speaks in a monotone voice.

"Yes, I am."

"So you've purchased Felix, the comforting doll?"

"I did. What is this about?" you ask confusedly.

"We are here to take him. There's been a malfunction and we need the dolls back at our company."

You scoff at them.

"No." you cross your arms.

"Miss, it's in your best interest to cooperate with us."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to know what's in my best interest?" you frown as two of the men exchange unimpressed looks.

You groan and in an attempt to shoo them away, you lift your leg up and kick one of the men right in his shin.

He doesn't even budge, doesn't make an expression or a sound that would indicate he was even hit.

"Get her out of the way." the man in the very back says and two of them grab your arms as you start screaming and kicking.

Three of the other men walk inside just as Felix runs up to the corridor, hearing your screams.

"Y/n!" he yells out, as the men grab him.

"Felix!" you kick around, tears sliding down your cheeks as you try to tear away from the men but to no avail.

"Let him go! He's alive! I love him!"

"Please don't take me away from her!"

Both of you scream but nobody listens to you.

One of the men takes a big needle out of his suitcase and before you can react he pushes it into Felix's neck, injecting him with some kind of liquid.

You scream as his body goes limp and they lift him up, walking out of your house.

"You'll get your money back, don't worry." the last man says and you scream at him, your tears flowing like a wild river.

"I don't want it! I want my Felix!" you cry, running after them but they've already pushed him into the backseat.

One of the men holds you back as they all pile in the car, leaving quickly as you fall down to your knees and cry.

Your heart hurts for breaking your promise of keeping Felix safe.

Your mind races with a thousand thoughts.

What are you going to do now?

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d

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cntloup · 10 months ago

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Happiness

"Hey! What are you doing?!" he nearly shouts as he quickly rushes to take the bags of groceries from you.

You're eight months pregnant and your husband has been immensely loving, helpful and considerate, but safe to say overbearing at times.

"I just wanted to help." you say sheepishly, a slight pout forming on your lips.

"I've got it." he says, tone harsher than he intended as he grabs the bags without even looking at you, then leaves, thinking nothing of it.

You stomp your feet to the bedroom, well, as well as you can in your state and slam the door behind you.

He's startled at the sound and it dawns on him just now what he has done, "Fuckin' hell." he grumbles under his breath.

He finds you lying down on the bed and walks over to sit beside you.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have talked to you that way." he apologizes in a much softer voice.

He places one hand on your waist and the other on your belly, tenderly rubbing soothing circles only for you to pull away and turn your back to him.

His heart shatters in his chest as he stares at you with desperate, apologetic eyes.

And shortly after, he hears the soft sound of your sniffles.

He shuffles on the bed to get closer to you, lightly touching your arm, "Love?" he beckons softly, eyebrows furrowed as he feels truly concerned now.

"Please, lovie. Talk to me." he pleads, fingers gently brushing against your bare arm.

Your hiccupped cry gets louder by the second until you’re full on sobbing as you curl into yourself.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry, love." he apologizes again, feeling more and more desperate and helpless.

He lies down behind you and pulls you closer to him by the waist and his hand rests on your belly.

He murmurs 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' into your hair over and over again, not really knowing what else to do in order to calm you down.

Until suddenly he hears your burst of giggles, not sure if he heard correctly.

"It tickles!" you giggle again as his breath tickles your neck.

He slightly shifts in his place, supporting his weight on his arm and lifting himself up to look at you in surprise of the sudden change in your mood.

You turn your head to look back at him with a lovely smile, making his breath hitch in his throat.

"Yeah?" a mischievous smile forms on his face and his hands move to your sides.

And before you can react, he's tickling you mercilessly.

"Siii!" you whine in between uncontrollable laughter and thrashing your arms around trying to stop him from his brutal tickle attacks as he smirks and laughs at your attempts, enjoying this way more than he should.

Until all of a sudden a loud drawn-out gasp leaves your mouth and he immediately stops, "Fuck! Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" he asks in deep concern as his eyes stir around, looking for any sign of damage.

You just take his hand and place it on your belly with no words and at first, he looks confused, but quickly realizes what you meant, his eyes lighting up as he feels your baby's kicks against his palm.

He feels tears prickle the corner of his eyes and can't help but kiss you with such flaming love and fierce devotion that he feels for both of you.

And you spend the rest of the day in each other's arms, feeling your baby's kicks with pure happiness in your hearts and he soothingly rubs your belly and kisses you when you whine in pain.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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suhtorus · 3 months ago

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mama's day. gojo satoru

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non sorcerer au, mom!reader, family fluff, two unnamed sons and one baby girl. a little gift for myself ! ᡣ𐭩

little sunshines au

satoru has a plan for your birthday—a very detailed one.

step one. wake up the nuggets

it takes him less than two minutes to get the oldest out of bed, and there's really no point in waking up his baby girl since there's not much an eight-month-old can do.

the problem is your toddler.

"c'moooon, don't you wanna give mama her gifts?"

satoru's tone grows exasperated the longer his son refuses to cooperate, kicking his legs and throwing his nemo plushie at his face.

"no!"

the five-year-old immediately shushes his baby brother, only making the latter whine even more, tears now running down his chubby cheeks.

satoru feels his face fall upon seeing his son so upset, he should've expected the little ones not to take it too well to be woken up at six in the morning.

"hey," he tries softly this time, caressing the soft blond hairs of his toddler, "I'm sorry, mochi. can you forgive papa? go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready, okay?"

the sobs end and now there's only small sniffles coming from the sleepy kid.

"oki."

step two. make breakfast

"like this?"

satoru leans down to inspect his son's work, brows furrowing as he tries, and fails, to read whatever gibberish his son tried to spell on top of the freshly made waffles.

with a loud smooch on the kid's cheek, satoru squeezes him in a tight hug, grinning proudly the way a father would. "a masterpiece. mama's gonna love it."

dad and son work surprisingly silent, focused on their own tasks. it doesn't take them long to have plates full of food and fruits, as well as freshly made juice.

"why don't you grab these," satoru hands his son two bags with the names of expensive brands on them, "while I go get your siblings. okay?"

"on it!"

step three. gifts

"happy birthday, mama~"

"ma-ma!"

you wake up with a start, surrounded by four pairs of blue eyes staring down at you.

"happy birthday, love of my life, mother of my kids, my one and only!"

satoru pecks your mouth as your brain processes the beaming faces of your three nuggets. your boys sit next to you, one on each side, while satoru holds the baby in the air right above your face.

your confused face finally eases into one of happiness (and relief).

"thank you, my little babies!" you smile drowsily, urging yourself to blink the sleep away as you smooch the faces of all three of your children. "mwah, mwah, mwahhh–"

your husband can't help but smile upon seeing you smothering the kids with kisses. and with his hold still on his baby girl, satoru tugs her away from you and nods at your lap.

"open your gifts, baby. we got you aaaall of your favorites." he winks at his son and the little one covers his mouth behind his tiny hand, giggling. "and we also made breakfast for mama, right?"

with a pointed look from satoru, your toddler remembers the plate of food on his lap.

"eat waffu, baby." your two-year-old offers you the plate full of waffles, pushing it towards your mouth, insistent. "eat it."

step four. spoil her rotten

your two boys happily run across the gardens while your baby girl crawls on the grass, squealing right behind her brothers.

"liked the surprise?"

your husband's arms wrap around your middle from behind. his hold is the greatest comfort you could've asked for.

"you mean waking up with three of your clones staring down at me while I sleep?" you snort, but there's no real bite in your tone. "I loved it. especially their drawing of me surrounded by blue-eyed mochi."

your eldest had insisted on drawing their little family—with you right in the center—and satoru thought it'd be funny to add the mochi instead of the kids.

"oh, but I'm not done yet, sweetheart." he spins you around in his arms, now grinning at you. "an entire weekend. you and me. what do you say?"

a groan slips past your lips and he immediately frowns, indignation clear on his face.

"c'mon, pretty. it's been a while since it was just the two of us." satoru goes for the puppy eyes, knowing that by doing so he already has a fifty percent of chance of winning. "you're not only a mother, but also a wife. let your doting husband pamper you."

"and who's watching over the kids? the baby??" you try to reason, glancing at your nuggets as they giggle their little hearts out as they play together. "satoru, we can't just leave."

"sweetheart, relaaaaax. ijichi got us covered."

oh, that poor man.

you make a mental note to give nanami a call.

#₊˚ʚ 🌱 little sunshines au #𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾ ‧₊˚☁️ skye #sunny skies #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #divider by v6que

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lilacgaby · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

#i love this au isjsjsjdjd #lilac speaks꧂#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo drabble #mha x you #bakugo oneshot #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo mha #nanny!reader #prohero!bakugo

1K notes · View notes

jiminrings · 8 months ago

Text

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

#heh . how r we feeling citizens!!!! :O #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 9 days ago

Text

bath. l Joel Miller

Summary: Joel is immobilized and giving you a hard time

Warnings: nothing much, some intimacy, shared bath, Ellie wants to get rid of Joel, boring conversations

A/N: it's something before something, so it's boring. it doesn't contribute much. if you want to support my tired mind, feel free to . kisses

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

A broken collarbone wasn't what Joel expected. When the doctor at the clinic in Jackson, where you took him the next day, told him that he would be immobilized for a few weeks, Joel just sighed heavily. He was put in a sling and told to take care of himself so that the bone would heal properly.

It was humiliating.

Even when you left the clinic together and you took his left hand in yours, he didn't feel any better.

"I'm useless now." he mumbled, watching you choose apples and vegetables for dinner.

"Not at all." you replied calmly. "You'll just rest now. See how good it will do you."

Where did you get that optimistic belief? Joel had no idea. He was glad that your argument hadn't affected your relationship, because his head was telling him all the tragic scenarios, but now he was dependent on others for help. And worst of all, he couldn't help you,

You were the one who brought the box of food home. And then you hung the laundry out in the warm spring sun. You made dinner, and Joel...

"Can you take him somewhere?" Ellie rushed into the kitchen for the third day, a blush covering her cheeks. "He's unbearable!"

"Please, have mercy on him." you sighed. "This is the first time since..."

"He just came asking if I did my homework!" Ellie rolled her eyes and raised her hands in despair. "I'm not eight! Can we abandon him somewhere? In the forest, for example?"

You looked at her with amusement. "Of course not! But this is new to him. You know he doesn't go on patrol now, that he can't do much in the stables either."

"So you're sacrificing me?"

"Hey! I can't drag him around with me forever, he's an adult."

Ellie folded her arms across her chest and looked at you with satisfaction. "Maybe he's getting on your nerves too, huh?"

"That's not... That's not true!"

But sometimes it was like that. Joel was looking for something to do, something he could do with one hand. When he tried to help you with the laundry, it took longer than usual. Things weren't going his way at the stables either and when you went to visit him there, you saw how furious he was. Even Tommy washed his hands and didn't want to come near him.

"Fine." you finally sighed "I'll take care of him. He won't follow you around anymore."

The girl's face lit up. "I'm sure you'll have a great time!"

You didn't know if she was joking or serious.

You found Joel in the bedroom where he had been struggling with his shirt for a few minutes. He was already irritated enough and when you stood in front of him to help unbutton it, he only mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Don't pout like that." you said, smiling "That won't help you."

"Ellie already complained about me?" you nodded "I just wanted to..."

"I know, and she knows it too. Don't think about it now." You carefully took off his shirt, noticing how he winced when you helped him free his arm. "I'll draw you a bath."

"I can do it myself."

"Let me take care of you, Joel." you murmured, kissing his pouty lips.

This was amazing. A completely different level of sensation and pleasure. The bathroom was filled with steam and the pleasant scent of lavender. He could feel your body behind him, your legs were on his sides, and his back was resting on your chest. Joel closed his eyes in pleasure. You slowly washed his hair, massaging his scalp carefully. This made him turn into a purring mess, which he clearly liked.

"When was the last time someone really took care of you, huh?" you chuckled as a soft growl escaped his chest.

"I can't remember. You take care of me, don't you?"

"As much as you let me. Close your eyes." you poured a cup of warm water over his hair to rinse off the shampoo. "You should use this time, rest, get some sleep..."

His hand slid up your calf. "I feel useless." he mumbled. "Like I'm a fucking cripple or something."

"Nobody thinks of you like that." you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his temple. "Sometimes you're just a pain in the ass. Joel!" he squeezed your calf harder and you jumped. "Stop it, or I'll forget you're hurt!"

You both fell silent for a moment, soaking up this intimate time. These were special moments, you wanted to have them just for yourselves, because they made you feel that what you felt, that you were - was real. Only his voice, quiet but deep, tore you from your reverie.

"Do you remember the first time you hugged me?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I would never have dared to dream of being with you like I am now... I was convinced that I would lose you. It scared me. I didn't remember what it was like to have someone so close. I was sure that when you saw what I was like, you would run away."

You ran your fingers through his wet hair. You remembered exactly how tense Joel was then. You were sure that he would push you away, but he didn't. He just patted you awkwardly on the back as if he wasn't sure if he was doing it right.

"I was scared too..." you said quietly, glad that Joel couldn't see your face. "I haven't done this in a long time... And you were... Yourself. I saw how you were to Ellie, but I was a stranger to you."

His hand found yours, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "You were the best thing that happened to us, really. And certainly to me. But... You never told me."

"About what?"

"How did you even end up there? You said you were with a group, then you were left alone, but nothing more."

He felt it immediately. Your body tensed, you took a deep breath.

"This isn't a good time, you know. It's not even important."

"But-"

"We should get out, you know. I'll make dinner, you must be hungry."

Joel didn't protest. You could see the consternation on his face, questions swirling in his eyes, but he didn't want to push you. That was wonderful about him, he didn't push, he just waited until someone was ready to talk.

It was the second time he asked you about it, and you dodged it again. Joel understood that no one wanted to talk about difficult and painful things, but he had a strange feeling that nothing good had happened to you. And that broke his heart.

"Tommy asked me today if I would go on the next patrol with Sam and Anthony." You said as you both sat down on the couch after dinner, and you reached for the book you were currently reading together.

"I was supposed to go with them." Joel noticed.

"I know, but I thought... After that last trip for supplies, I didn't go anywhere further than the beaten patrol paths. It could be fun."

Joel didn't think it would "be fun," but he knew that you cared about feeling active and important again. He talked to Shane, he knew that your joint patrols were peaceful, but there Walsh kept an eye on you. And now?

"If that's what you want." He finally said and saw the smile on your face. "Just be careful."

"I always am." You opened the book and glanced at the next chapter. "Alright, let's get back to our Bennet sisters. I really liked them."

Your calm voice soon filled the living room, but it didn't reach Joel's mind at all. He was still considering your words, strange fears starting to churn under his skin.

If it weren't for that damned arm...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #short stories from life

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alchemistc · 3 months ago

Text

His eyes aren't the right shade of blue, but he opens up for Buck like a dream, lips wide and wet and -

"Fuck," Buck says, and when he digs his hand in the man's - Henry? Harry? - hair it's too fine, too straight.

Henry-Harry hums around him and Buck sort of just wants to fuck his face but that's rude, that's so fucking rude, he doesn't even remember the guys name -

Henry-Harry swallows and Buck's hips jut forward, but the lines around his eyes aren't groove-deep and heavy with warmth.

"Hank," Buck says, and the man's eyes dart up, his brow raises, his lips tip up and his tongue swirls and he never knows that Buck had only just remembered his name seconds before he came.

---

The date goes... fine. Kelsey is sweet and delicate and when her hand scratches at his stubble the tips of her fingers don't catch - soft, smooth, the hands of someone who spends eight hours a day behind a keyboard. She kisses like a dream, but the angle is all wrong.

She fucks like a dream too, but afterwards, when Buck shifts to curl around her she rolls her shoulder and gives him a confused look and Buck remembers that she's more than a foot shorter than him and her shoulders aren't really wide enough for -

Buck rolls and tucks her head under his chin and he thinks Tommy Kinard didn't really know shit about firsts and lasts.

---

The music is loud and the beat is heavy and the man with a thigh between Buck's legs is dark - twisting dreads that catch silver in the strobe light, deep brown skin, cheekbones Buck would break an ankle for.

Buck considers asking him if he wants to take this somewhere more private. Buck considers asking him if he wants to come home with him. Buck considers the heft of the thigh between his legs and remembers the first time Tommy had gotten him off, dick barely even out of his jeans because they'd been grinding like horny teenagers and -

His voice is deep and low when he tips his head to whisper in Buck's ear, the tenor all wrong.

Buck lets him tangle their fingers together as he heads towards the single stall bathrooms down the hall

---

"Ex... boyfriend?" Heather asks, and there's a wrinkle around the shape of her mouth that sets Buck's teeth on edge, because hadn't the whole point of this been that Buck needed to play the field? He likes men. He likes women. He can't pick a number on the Kinsey scale because all he can think about is -

"I'm bi," Buck says, and her expression withers. That seems to be the default - men think he's waiting for the woman who will give him a picture perfect family, women think he's - "It was right there at the top of my profile. With a flag and everything."

Her nose scrunches. She's trying to play it off. She's clearly not one of the women who think it's hot. "Sometimes men do that just to like, seem less intimidating."

Buck's already reaching for his wallet. "And sometimes men just like dick as much as -."

Her hand draws over her heart and it reminds Buck of his mom and not in the teasing way he'd always told Tommy the same thing.

He apologizes to his server and hands her a twenty in his way out the door.

---

Jack is two weeks younger than Buck to the day.

He's beautiful. Auburn hair trimmed neatly, cow-brown eyes, a sharp jawline and scruff that never seems to go past six-pm shadow. He's sweet - not a mean bone in his body, and the first time he hangs out with Buck and Eddie he shoots Eddie a shocked look when he pokes fun at Buck.

He lasts two and a half months.

But Buck knows the game now. Buck isn't looking for forever. Buck is -

Buck is Buck. That's what he'd said in the end, anyway.

"I'm really sorry, Jack," Buck says, fingers drifting from their hold between Jack's.

Jack's smile is just a little sad, but far too understanding. "Hey, I've been an in-betweener before. It was fun while it lasted."

---

Either Tommy's blocked his number or he's really fucking good at swiping out of his notification previews.

Buck thinks about leaving a really shitty, incredibly mean hearted voicemail instead.

You're a coward sits Delivered for three months

---

Ashley's a nurse, and when she admits she's only ever dated women before Buck feels the sting of it, but he smiles all the same. He's chasing a feeling he hasn't been able to find since -

She stares at the sparse decoration of his loft and doesn't say a word.

"So, like -." Buck starts, but she tangles her fingers in his shirt and presses her lips to his and Buck realizes the stupidly large box of condoms he'd bought for his sex-a-thon the first four off after he'd finally convinced Tommy to fuck him is almost out.

Buck spends half an hour with his head between her legs before the tug in his curls gets insistent, and Buck tries not to think, for a while

---

"You're a firefighter?" Travis asks, head tilted excitedly, eyes on the LAFD tee hanging half out of his laundry basket. "Have you ever worked with the guys at Harbor?"

Five and a half months - nearly as long as they'd been together - and Buck considers asking Travis to leave instead of answering. He's got a heart shaped face and Buck can't detect a wrinkle on him. No smile lines around his eyes.

"Flew into a hurricane with them once."

Buck's not sure they ever left the eye.

---

Maddie gives birth on a Thursday. Miraculously they're all off shift except Eddie.

They name his nephew John Evan Buckley-Han and Buck spends an hour watching him sleep before he remembers exactly how long it's been since he'd last heard his name.

---

you haven't though, Buck sends, while Eddie presses him into the Uber and makes Buck promise to text him when he's home.

All the messages in the thread above have a Read receipt.

The dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Haven't what?

seen me around, Buck sends back, and it shows as Delivered long after his Uber drops him off and he shoots off a message to Eddie once he's collapsed in bed. He's gonna regret that last shot in the morning.

He should have gone home with the redhead instead of letting Eddie convince him to stay and play another round of darts.

---

Greg presses a kiss to Buck's birthmark and Buck politely peels himself off Greg's very nice mattress and tugs on his briefs. "Here for a good time, not a long time, huh?" Greg asks, and Buck remembers that this had always been unsatisfying.

He thought he'd found something he could build on. Turns out he wasn't making shit.

"Sorry kid," he says, sparing a glance at Greg's slim shoulders and the washboard abs that he'd make it his mission to look a little less dehydrated, if this were something serious. Maybe some lasagna in the freezer, the gnocchi he'd learned to make once Tommy got tired of flicking flour in Buck's hair.

"I'm like, five years younger than you."

Buck's already searching for the shirt Greg has tossed off the side of the bed half an hour ago.

---

Did you want me to?

Buck stares at the message for a full five minutes. Glares at it, really.

No, he lies, and leaves it at that.

---

He's not even at work when it happens. He's on a fucking date, and the television over the bar switches to a breaking news story about a helicopter crashing just off the 405.

Whatever Yarrow is saying to him gets lost when he sees the numbers dashed across the side of the hunk of smoldering metal that had once been an LAFD chopper.

---

Bobby meets him at the bay doors.

Eddie's already there too.

It's not good news. It's not bad news, either.

Buck only met Tommy's captain once, and he can see now that there were cracks, walls Buck hadn't realized he hadn't yet climbed, but she recognizes him and pulls him off to the side.

"Do you not answer your phone, Buckley?"

He's got six missed calls. The moment he'd texted the group chat and left Yarrow with the tab for the terrible IPA he'd gotten a taste for in those six months when the future had been clearer, he'd forgotten phones actually existed.

"I - sorry, were you trying to reach me?"

"You're listed as his ICE, Buckley."

Buck can't remember them ever even having that conversation.

"He'll survive," she says, voice firm, eyes unyielding. "You can't wring his neck about it until he's out of the woods, and he's a glutton for punishment."

---

"I have some things to say," Buck says, and Tommy eyes him warily from the bed where he's propped. They'd only pulled tubes ten minutes ago, and technically Tommy isn't allowed to speak for a bit. "We're gonna circle back around to the fact that you made me your in case of after you broke up with me once you can talk, so don't forget that."

He looks - guilty. Annoyed. Clears his throat and winces, scowls when Buck hands him the cup of ice chips but still uses two meaty fingers to grab a handful that he tosses into his mouth and chews. Loudly.

Buck leans back in his chair and stares at the cast on Tommy's leg, the bruising around his eyes, the flat mess of his curls.

"And if you call me Buck again I'm telling Angie you asked to have the morphine drip removed." It's a joke, and a lame one at that, but Tommy's eyes twinkle.

---

It's almost a year to the day when Tommy snags his wrist and reels him in for a kiss, hand palming Buck's ass as he noses at Buck's cheek and nearly trips over the last of the boxes Buck had gotten distracted from moving out of the hallway.

"You have too much shit," Tommy tells him, and Buck mostly thinks he's pissed that he still hasn't fully regained the muscle mass in his leg yet. He's lopsided and a little clumsy but every time Buck brings it up he inevitably ends up with a video of himself slipping all over an ice rink in the group chat, so he keeps it to himself.

"You love it."

Tommy's eyes soften when Buck runs a hand through his curls, the grooves of his smile just right. "I tolerate it. You, though..."

Buck isn't ashamed to admit he still feels butterflies every time Tommy says it.

"You I don't mind."

Buck scowls just to watch Tommy's face brighten mischievously. The hands around his waist are wide and strong and the finger pads catch in the worn cotton.

#bucktommy #bucktommy ficlet #tevan ficlet

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

Text

The One (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Each pair has a unique soulmate mark. Charles doesn't know what his mark is or if he'll ever meet his soulmate.

Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N grew up together. They didn't remember the first time they met, they'd always been a part of each other's lives. They did everything together. They were a package deal, you wouldn't find one without the other. Maybe, that's why they hadn't found their soulmate yet or seen a soulmate mark.

Y/N was in primary, maybe eight or nine when some people in her class had started to bully her. Charles was the only one who noticed that she wasn't herself. "Hey Y/N/N" Charles said trying to catch her attention. "Hi Cha" she replied, faking a smile. "You look sad" he pointed out. "I'm okay" she reassured him. "You can tell me anything" Charles said and she broke down crying. Charles soon found out about the bullying and took it upon himself to protect her. That day he returned home with multiple bruises and when asked, he just told them he was protecting his person.

Y/N was ten when her dad told her stop karting. It was her favourite thing to do since she got to spend all her time with Charlie. She would recount the events of the day to anyone after every race. The debriefs were fun, she mostly talked about Charles, actually she only talked about Charles. Hervé tried to reason with her dad to let her continue since she was inconsolable. "But papa, I love karting." she cried. "That's not very girly. Stick to things girls do" he told her sternly. Y/N spent most of her day crying until Charles came around. "I'm sorry we can't kart together" he said hugging her. "You can use my kart whenever you want" he bargained. Y/N smiled for the first time that day. Charles kept to his word, he would let her use his kart whenever she wanted; to this day, she was the only one allowed to touch his cars, even the Ferraris.

Y/N was with Charles when he won his GP3 and F2 title. She was the first one he met as soon as he got out of the car. She was crying with snot running down her nose. "You look ugly crying" Charles laughed and Y/N hit him. "I'm just happy" she said. "I know" he replied, hugging her for a very long time.

Charles was there when Y/N got rejected from her dream university. She had locked herself up and wouldn't open the door for anyone. Charles was the only one able to coax her out. "Wanna get ice cream?" Charles asked rubbing her back. She nodded. The pain of rejection melted away with the ice cream. That was when Y/N knew, the reason she didn't have a soulmate mark. It was because she had already met her soulmate. Charles was her one and only and she didn't need a a stupid soulmate mark to tell her that.

Y/N was also there when Hervé was sick and in the hospital. "Charlie, don't worry. I'm here. I'll made sure Hervé gets well soon while you go and race" she reassured Charles who was not ready to leave. "I trust you." he told her. "I know" she nodded.

Y/N was there when Hervé passed. Charles was a mess. He wouldn't stop blubbering, tightly wrapped around her as if she would disappear too if he let go, as she patted his back. "He's watching down on us. He's always with us" she said trying to console him.

Y/N was there when Charles got offered the Ferrari contract. She had heard him contemplate his choices when he had joined Formula One and now that Ferrari was offering him a contract, it was a no brainer for him. He was quick to sign the contract with Y/N right behind him, literally and figuratively.

Charles would spend a lot of his time wondering who his soulmate could be. And it saddened him to think that it would be someone who would never have the opportunity to meet his father. Y/N always wondered what her soulmate mark could've been, but alas, at least she had her soulmate even if he didn't know it yet.

It was the Monaco GP, Charles had finally broken his Monaco curse. As the checkered flag waved and Charles crossed the finish line; his heart was heavy yet warm. He couldn't believe he had done it, finally. He got out of the car and raced to his team; his family waiting for him. The first person he saw was Y/N, with tears staining her cheeks. Charles wiped her tears, "I won" he muttered. "I know" she smiled wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm sure he must be looking down on you right now. He must be so happy. I know it" she whispered into his shoulder. "You always knew what he felt" he replied. "He would tell you how proud he was of you and how he knew you could do it" she elaborated while pulling away. As Charles eyes met hers for the thousandth time since they first met, his heart felt warm, his mind was calm and everything around him felt like it was where it was supposed to be. He was where he was supposed to be. He was with his soulmate. "Go on" she pushed Charles towards his team and smiled as he stumbled forward.

A couple days after the GP, Y/N was lounging around his mother's shop when Charles interrupted her. "Hey" he spoke slowly. "Hi Cha" she smiled. "I wanted to talk to you" he began. "Looks like it" she replied while using her two fingers to ease the worry lines on his forehead, nodding at him to continue. "You know how we've yet to get out mark or our soulmate" he pointed out. "I'm aware" she laughed. "What if, we've already met our soulmate?" he questioned. "hmm" she cocked her head. "What if we met them so young that we don't know, we don't know our mark was or anything" he rambled. "Where are you going with this?" she asked hesitantly. "What if our soulmate has always been around? With us, through it all" Charles suggested. She nodded with tears in her eyes. "What if we are each other's soulmates?" Charles proceeded hesitantly. Y/N jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Took you long enough" she mumbled against his neck. "You knew" he asked, pulling away to look at her.

She nodded with her arms still around his neck, Charles placing his on her waist. "When?" he asked. "The day I got rejected from the university I wanted" she replied. "That long?" he asked. She just nodded. "You were always there, through my highs and lows" she explained. "You were with me through everything too." Charles interrupted. "I'm glad it's you" Y/N announced. "me too" Charles reiterated.

"Our mums will be happy" Charles said, as the pair walked hand in hand. "I think they always knew" Y/N stated. "That's even better. That means dad met my soulmate" Charles smiled. "Can I tell you a secret?" Y/N asked. "What?" Charles asked. "He always hoped we'd be soulmates" she replied. "No wonder you were his favourite" Charles laughed pulling her in for a kiss.

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mariasont · 20 days ago

Note

I love your fics so much! Could you maybe make a pre-relationship fic of Spencer x reader Spencer rescues the reader from the unsub and calms them down?? I'm a big hurt/comfort girly lmao 🫶🏼😛

Pulse Point - S.R

a/n: thank you so much!!!! so sorry for taking so long! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: undescribed injury, lil bit of angst with a happy ish ending, pre-relationship ending

wc: 1.6k

Spencer had seen you in danger before. It came with the job—a stipulation of the unwritten contract you signed the day you joined the team. His mind had been conditioned to assess danger rationally, stripping away emotion to leave behind only what mattered: probabilities, outcomes, strategies.

But then again seeing you, tied to that chair, unconscious and face drained of color, was something he wasn't sure any amount of mathematical modeling could prepare him for.

Your head had hung at an unnatural angle, the strands of hair clinging to the sweat slicking your skin in a way that sent a visceral wave of nausea rolling through him. Rope burns—thin, angry welts were already bruising—encircled your wrists. He couldn't breathe—his chest seized, ribs locking tight, as though his body itself couldn't handle the image of you in that state. The unsub's voice had faded into white noise, irrelevant against the single, all-encompassing command that had pounded in his head—get to you, get you out of here.

Now, sitting on the cold concrete of the clearing zone with you cradled against his chest, Spencer's mind spiraled in a loop—that singular thought repeating, relentless, fractal, like a Fibonacci sequence winding tighter and tighter around his sanity. The unsub was subdued—Morgan had handled it efficiently—but Spencer couldn't bring himself to focus on that, let alone process it. The edges of his awareness narrowed, his entire world reduced to you. Limp. Unresponsive. Alarmingly still. It made his heart pound so violently it felt like it might break him from the inside out.

His hands wouldn't stop shaking, a trembling he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. One arm braced under your knees, the other pressed against the curve of your back. He adjusted his grip carefully, terrified of moving you the wrong way, terrified of doing anything that might make things worse. His eyes flicked to your chest, tracking the uneven rise and fall of your breathing. Too shallow. Too inconsistent. But there.

Twelve to twenty breaths per minute—that's the normal respiratory rate for an adult at rest, he recited, mind retreating to the relative safety of cold, clinical facts. Yours, he estimated, was faster—high twenties, maybe—an expected adrenaline response to trauma. It was within the acceptable range. It should have reassured him. As long as it didn't drop below eight or spike above thirty, there was no immediate cause for intervention. The logic was sound. The science was sound. But that did absolutely nothing to stem the gnawing unease twisting through him.

Then you started to stir.

It was subtle at first, so subtle he almost thought he imagined it—a small, almost imperceptible sound slipping past your lips, the softest shift of you head against his shoulder—but it sent a jolt through him nonetheless.

Your eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy, the muscles in your face tightening with confusion as consciousness gradually took hold. Relief bloomed, but it died just as quickly. Recognition didn't follow. Instead, your expression twisted, your features contorting with something feral, something deeply afraid. Your breathing grew erratic, breaking into rapid, shallow bursts that rattled your frame.

And then you started thrashing.

"No, no—get off me!" Your voice cracked, raw with fear.

He tightened his arms just enough to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Hey, hey—stop! It's me—it's Spencer!"

You didn't react to his voice. It was as if you couldn't even hear him. Your body twisted violently, fighting something unseen, nails scraping at his vest, frantic and clawing, desperate to escape.

Spencer swallowed thickly, forcing himself to focus on what he knew. This was textbook trauma response. Cortisol and adrenaline were flooding your system, hijacking your prefrontal cortex, reducing your mind to survival instincts alone. It all made perfect sense—he could explain it in detail, rationalize it. But none of the logic in the world could prepare him for what it felt like to hold you like this and not be able to fix it.

"Look at me. It's Spencer. You're safe now. I promise, you're safe."

The words didn't seem to do much, falling flat and useless. Spencer felt a crushing helplessness as he watched, paralyzed while panic consumed you in a way he couldn't stop. His mind scrambled, clawing through years of knowledge, training, and case studies, all of which felt painfully inadequate now. It was one thing to understand trauma as a concept, to study it in a clinical detachment. It was another to watch it consume someone you cared about, to feel it in the way your body shook.

But then—finally—something shifted.

You froze. Not the rigid, terror-fueled panic from before, but something different. Tentative. Uncertain. Your breathing stuttered, still too fast, but the wildness in your eyes began to ebb like clouds parting just enough to let a sliver of sunlight through. You blinked, once, twice, and then your gaze locked onto his face, really seeing him this time.

"Spence..." Your voice was hardly above a whisper, like a fragile filament of sound, barely there but enough for his chest to ache all the same.

Relief washed over him so fast it left him lightheaded.

"Yeah, it's me," he said softly, nodding quickly as though the motion itself might convince you. "It's just me. You're okay."

Wide eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, stared back at him as though searching for something—anything—to hold on to. The air felt like it was holding its breath, waiting. And then he saw it—the exact second the realization hit that you were safe. The fear in your face melted, replaced by something fragile, something breaking open. Your lip quivered, your breath hitching, and then, without a word, you lunged forward, throwing your arms around his neck.

Spencer froze.

He wasn't exactly new to your hugs. They didn't happen often—his aversion to touch usually kept that at bay—but when they did, they were always simple. After a particularly hard case or when the job felt overwhelming. But this? This was not that.

For a split second, his brain failed him entirely, unable to keep up with what he was seeing. He honed in on the small details—the way your hands clutched his shirt in tight, desperate fists, the way your trembling body seemed so much smaller than he ever remembered. He'd never seen you this way. The realization terrified him in ways he couldn't articulate.

But then that rare instinct of his took over.

With painstaking care, he wrapped his arms around you, like he was afraid you might break apart in his hands. One hand slipped to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, softer than he thought himself capable of. The other stayed pressed firmly against your back, holding you to him, refusing to let go—because letting go felt unthinkable, impossible. He leaned into you, his cheek brushing against the top of your head, breathing you in. The familiar scent of your shampoo was still there, but beneath it lingered something sharper, something more metallic that made his fingers sink deeper into the hold.

"It's okay," he murmured, every word scraping against the tightness in his throat. "I've got you I'm not going anywhere."

He felt the sharp hitch of your breath against his chest, followed moments later by the damp heat of tears soaking into his shoulder. You were crying. The realization hit him like a physical weight, and his arms tightened around you instinctively. He wasn't sure who was shaking anymore—you or him. Maybe both.

He shifted his hand slightly on your back, his thumb brushing against your shoulder blade. But even as he tried to comfort you, his brain kept ticking like clockwork, unable to stop itself. Your pulse—it was still too fast. He could feel in beneath the pad of his fingers, pounding just under the surface of your skin.

The medics needed to get here soon.

His fingers moved without thinking, sliding to your neck, pressing lightly against the artery there. He told himself it was necessary, just a routine check to make sure nothing was wrong, but he knew better. It was selfish—a desperate need to feel the beat of your pulse under his fingertips, to remind himself you were here. Alive. That the worst was behind you.

It was fast, just as he'd predicted, but steady. Stable. A good sign.

Spencer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, shoulders sagging.

"You're okay," he murmured softly, though he wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

He closed his eyes.

Minutes passed by, though they both felt impossibly long and far too short. You stayed against him just like that, breathing slowly evening out until the jagged edges of panic dulled into exhaustion. He said nothing more—words felt unnecessary, maybe even counterproductive. So he just held you.

When the sound of footsteps finally reached his ears, Spencer didn't move. Not until the medics appeared in his peripheral vision, and even then, he hesitated, tightening his grip on you for just a fraction of a second before forcing himself to let go.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. "The medics are here, okay? They're going to take care of you."

You nodded, but it was hesitant, your eyes swollen and puffy, and you clung to him just a little longer. Your hand wrapped around his sleeve like you were afraid to let go.

Spencer's eyes flicked to the medics, his voice low but insistent. "Be careful."

The medics nodded, stepping in to take over, and Spencer reluctantly released his hold. His arms felt empty, hollow, as they fell to his sides. Even as the medics worked, his gaze stayed glued to you, his eyes tracking every breath, every faint movement. He couldn't look away. Wouldn't.

It was then he realized a dangerous idea, that he cared about you more than he should, more than was professional. And it terrified him.

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#Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #Spencer Reid fic #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid #Reid #criminal minds angst

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lxvebun · 6 months ago

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if it's okay could you write something about simon asking the reader to stay the night and it will be the first time they sleep over? no pressure ofc!

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader. Fluff! i'm yearning for fall/winter so it's written with that in mind. The heat is getting to me🥲 not proofread im nervous. Eng isn't my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

“I should probably go."

It took you an embarrassingly long time to finally get those words out. Every minute ticking by only making you more and more nervous to actually say them. You truly don’t want to leave just yet. Don’t want to pull away from your place next to him, tucked into his side, soft, warm. A strong arm wrapping around you keeping you nice and close to him, occasionally his hand traces invisible heart shapes and silent i love you’s into your skin.

(a habit that has shifted into his love language. Simon Riley loves quietly, but deeply. And moments where he can get his hands on your skin to spell out his devotion to you, fingertips burning pleasantly, leaving behind a trail of falling stars, is something he makes time for often)

It feels all too safe and domestic to leave just yet, but the colder months are approaching and it’s well into the evening now. The sky has already completely settled into a deep dark blue with clusters of stars and a bright full moon. The streets however are still lively, early sunsets and longer nights having no affect on most people's schedule. People are coming back from a long day at work, couples are running their last errands at the corner store and old grannies are coming back from their weekly bingo night down the street at the community center. Right now, it still feels safe enough to walk back home on your own. Without a doubt, Simon would offer to walk you, but he’s barely made it through your annual movie night and you’d rather not keep him from his much needed and well deserved sleep.

(it would not be your first time walking home alone at night, don’t tell Simon, but you prefer not to. Being so hyper aware of every movement and every sound is tiring and your 15 minute walk back home feels like you just finished a marathon)

He shifts next to you, the haze of sleep laced in his movements, a groan of disagreement falling from his lips as he throws a glance at his watch.

"T’is only eight, sweetheart. You never leave this early. Something wrong?" A twinge of worry coursing through his voice, brows furrowed at the thought of you being uncomfortable. His hand changes from tracing shapes to rubbing comforting circles into your side, albeit a bit frantically.

(he’s so attentive it honestly makes you wanna cry sometimes)

"No, nothings wrong," You begin. Smoothing the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb and placing a gentle kiss to his jawline. "I just don’t want to walk alone at night. Nor do I want to keep you from your sleep"

You’re quick to add the last bit, practically hearing the words "I'll walk you " escape from his mouth already.

He doesn’t make an attempt to remove his hands from your waist, or sit back up straight. On the contrary he’s taken it to melt into you a little more, pull you a little closer and you think he’s doing this to convince you to stay

(it's working)

even months deep into your relationship, every sweet touch and gentle kiss still manages to cause your heart to soar and flutter in your chest.

He takes a moment to just look at you, and it makes you avert your eyes at its heaviness. Too sweet, too piercing, you feel like he’s looking into your mind and soul, breaking it open like a book and taking everything in. Usually, he coaxes you with delicate words and a warm hand on your jaw to keep looking at him but he’ll let you look away for now. You who’s so sweetly tucked into his side, you who feels so warm and peaceful against him it makes him wanna squeeze you to his chest and never let go. How could he possibly let you go when you look so content and so safe in his arms. From the look in your eyes and body language alone he can tell you feel good here, that you want to stay. He’s right but It’s the nerves, the shyness and not being sure where his boundaries lie that make you pull away from this moment

"You could always stay the night." He whispers, honeyed and soothing. Making sure you know there’s no pressure behind his request. It makes something warm curl in your heart

He’s been thinking about it often, what it would be like to wake up next to you. Seeing you first thing when he opens his eyes all angelic and soft in the golden morning sun rays, sleeping in his bed, draped in his sheets. Would you have any special night routines, would you like to use a nightlight or do you prefer complete darkness, do you move around a lot, are you cuddly. It honestly takes over the majority of his thoughts when he goes to bed himself. Finds himself imagining in detail what it would be like and he swears that he sleeps best on those nights. He can only imagine how good he’ll sleep next to you.

Your silence would worry him if he wasn’t able to read you so well. A hitch in your breath, eyes looking everywhere but him, a shy smile tugging on your lips

(you’re so cute)

"I’d like that." Your voice comes out soft, a little vulnerable but you know you’re safe. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

You’ve been thinking about it too. Spend many nights imagining what it would be like to curl up in his arms and drift off to sleep. Waking him up with a plethora of kisses to his face. Making your respective morning drinks in the kitchen together, stealing kisses in between sips. Thinking about it always leaves you feeling a little dizzy.

His response comes in the form of a wet kiss to your forehead that trails down to your cheeks, then the corner of your lips before finally pulling you into one. You'll choose to spare him and not comment on the flush on his cheeks, just this once

"I’ll go grab a hoodie and some sweatpants, you can use those to sleep in"

reluctantly, although motivated by the image of you in his clothes, he stands up, warmth slipping away for a moment before it’s contained again by the blanket he drapes over you.

"I’ll grab the clothes, you pick another movie"

With that he makes his way to the bedroom to retrieve said clothes. Before you can pick up the remote to pick a movie however, his voice booms out of the bedroom

"Do not pick twilight. Can’t stand that edward fucker."

Perhaps the Notebook will be more to his taste then:)

thank you for requesting nonnie! and thank you for reading angels!

#simon riley x gender neutral reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks. Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club.

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen.

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls.

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away.

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over.

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll. “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke.

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!”

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over.

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her.

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend.

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door.

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his.

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent.

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.”

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots.

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach?

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line.

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next.

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party.

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?”

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words.

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life.

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him.

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start.

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face.

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would.

He showed up.

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours.

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious.

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd.

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon.

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends.

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far.

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to.

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout.

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer.

“Six,” you sob.

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.”

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips.

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it.

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.”

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once.

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

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eternalxvenus · 11 months ago

Text

↳˗ˏˋtoji's special workoutˊˎ˗ ↴

summary: You were late to meet your personal trainer Toji at the gym. Luckily he let you stay after hours, but he was going to make sure you got a proper workout before leaving.

cw: smut 18+, personal trainer!toji x f!reader, pet names (doll, slut), p in v, Toji is a little mean/rough in this ngl, deepthroating, handjob, unprotected sex, light nipple play, slight orgasm control, degradation, fingering, squirting

wc: 2k

notes: i really hope you guys enjoy this fic! i'm actually kind of proud of it lmao. once again sorry it took so long but feel free to send in asks/requests!

You were driving in your car, contemplating going faster than the speed limit, when you saw that the time read 8:34 pm. You were supposed to meet Toji, your personal trainer at eight o'clock, but you were running behind. You knew he would be irritated since you already pushed your regular workout time from six to eight, and now you were late when the gym closed at nine.

You pulled into the parking lot, and thankfully, the lights inside the gym were still on. You breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing your gym bag and jogging inside.

Placing your bag by the lockers, you walked over to Toji, who was lifting weights in front of the mirror. “You’re late. Luckily, I'm friends with the owner. He's gonna let us stay late s'long as I lock up tonight,” he said, his voice slightly strained from lifting the weights.

"I know, I know, and thank you. My meeting went on longer than it was supposed to and then there was the traffic-"

"Start stretching," he says with a grunt. He sets down the weights and looks over at you. "You're gonna be doin' legs tonight."

You nod and do your usual stretches for your leg days. As you were doing squats, you glanced at Toji through the mirror, and it seemed like he was looking at your ass. You brushed it off as him just watching your form and continued.

You finished your stretches and headed from the stretching area over to the leg press machine with Toji. You got in position as he placed the weights on. "I want ya to do 5 sets, 15 reps each." Your eyes widened. "Last time I only did 3 sets with 12 reps!"

Toji snickered, a smug look on his face. "You're supposed to be getting better and stronger, not staying the same. Plus, you wasted my time being late." You scoffed, "I apologized, and it wasn't even my fault." He rolls his eyes. "Don't care. Just get it done."

You finally finished all your workouts (they were excruciating, and you will definitely feel it tomorrow) so you headed off to the showers while Toji cleaned up. You realized after showering that you had left your bag out by the lockers. You called out from the shower room door, "Toji! Could you bring my gym bag?" You didn't hear a response but sat on the bench and waited.

A few minutes later, you heard Toji's voice. "Alright, I'm comin' in." He walked into the shower room, your gym bag in hand. "Here ya go."

You thanked him and took the bag. You both stood there for a moment in silence, and he didn't make a move to leave. He stood there and took in your damp body from head to toe, and you held the towel a little closer to your body. Toji's tongue peeked out and swiped across the scar on his lip.

He took a step closer before speaking, his voice lower than usual. "Y'know, I don't think I worked ya out hard enough." Your breath hitched as your heartbeat sped up, hammering inside your chest so hard you thought it burst out.

Of course, you knew Toji was attractive. He had a perfect build, his abs, pecs, and biceps constantly straining against his compression shirts. And when he was shirtless, he looked absolutely jaw-dropping. Other women in the gym would ogle and stare, he was a wet dream come to life. He also oozed sex appeal. Whether it was intentional or not, you had no clue. The deep smoothness of his voice and the harsh encouragement given during training caused wetness to pool in your underwear more times than you would like to admit.

The thing is, not only is he a few years older than you, but he has a kid (which you found out after getting a text saying he had to cancel because his son was sick.) This made you assume he was married but didn't wear his ring to the gym. He was also your trainer, so there was the professionalism of it all.

Toji took your chin between his fingers, his thumb lightly brushing your bottom lip. "What do ya say, Doll? Think I should work you out a little more?" He spoke again with a smirk on his face.

Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his lips, the scar more noticeable up close. You figured this would be a one-time, heat-of-the-moment thing. Why the hell not. “That's what I pay you for, isn't it?”

The moment you said those words, his mouth was on yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue massaged yours in a way that made you melt. Both of your bodies were pressed up against one another. You could feel the growing bulge in his sweats pressing against you.

“Get on your knees. Let's start by trainin' that throat of yours...” You immediately obeyed, watching impatiently as he removed his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung up right in front of your face, and you realized he was big. Not wasting any more time, your fingers reached his base as your tongue licked his slit, tasting pre-cum as you sucked the tip. Toji hissed at the feeling and bucked his hips towards your touch. When you took him into your mouth, he groaned, placing a hand on the back of your head. You felt unbelievable. His taste makes you even wetter than you were before. “Let's see how much you can take Doll.” He pushed your head further down his length, making you gag as his tip hit the back of your throat, but the noise made Toji groan.

Your nose was pressed against his pelvis and you reached your hand up to tease his balls. "F-Fuck! You tryna make me cum?" he said looking down.

You nodded making a muffled sound of 'mhm' as your eyes started to water. Toji pulled you off his cock and a string of saliva and pre-cum dribbled down your chin.

"Such a pathetic slut. Taking my cock down your throat and playin' with my balls like that. You just can’t fuckin’ help yourself, can you?” He moaned as his hardness twitched right in front of your face. “That desperate for my cock, huh?”

You moan as you clenched around nothing. Your voice was breathy and slightly hoarse when you spoke. "Love having you in my mouth Toji." Your hand starts to pump his length while the other cups his balls, fondling them as he bites down on his lip. His head is thrown back, half-lidded eyes fluttering as he rolls his hips along to your touch.

After a few minutes of you stroking him, Toji pulled you off the floor and laid you on the nearby bench. Your towel had come off, and he finally had an unobstructed view of your body. His hands came up to play with your now stiff nipples. "You're so fucking sexy, Doll. I can't tell you how many times I got hard just watching you work out. These perfect tits bouncing and that sexy ass."

"So you were looking at my ass earlier." you giggled. You noticed Toji's staring at times, but always thought it was a professional gaze, not a lustful one.

"How could I not. Those shorts make it hard to be professional. Now it's time for stretching. Gotta make sure I don't break you."

Suddenly your legs were spread apart, and Toji was working two of his long fingers into you while his thumb focused on your clit. Your breath hitched, and you clenched around him immediately. "Oh- shit! Please make me feel good Toji. I wanna cum, please."

Toji scoffed. "Already begging to cum? How desperate are you, huh? You're not cummin' anywhere except on my fuckin' cock. Got that?"

You nod, unable to focus on speaking while his fingers piston in and out of your cunt, spreading your arousal.

"Use your words slut."

"I won't cum anywhere except on your cock. I- fuck... I promise."

He gave a short hum of approval as he took his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth. "Such a sweet cunt. I'll have to taste you until you shakin' and cryin' another day."

Before you could even process his words, Toji removed his sweats and started rubbing his hard cock up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. In a swift movement, you felt your hole being stretched by his girth.

"Ah- holy... shit Toji!" You nearly screamed as you felt him bottom out inside you, his tip pressing against your G-spot. "You’re so fucking deep!"

Suddenly, Toji's hands were placed behind your knees, pushing them down towards the sides of your head. His pace was nothing short of ruthless. His heavy balls were slapping up against your ass with every harsh thrust. You didn't know if it was because you had just finished working out, but everything felt much more intense. You could hear the wet sounds coming from your pussy. One glance down, and you saw the white forming at the base of his dick.

"M'gonna fuck this tight pussy until I've ruined you for every other man. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Knowing I'm the only man who can make your pussy feel this good." You nodded mindlessly at his possessiveness. A light sheen of sweat covered both your bodies as he fucked you into oblivion. He released his grip on your legs and watched as your back arched into his touch. His hands moved to cup your breasts, pinching at your nipples. Toji then leaned in to place a painful kiss on your lips, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his tongue made its way into your mouth, causing you to moan sinfully.

The force of his thrusts caused a distant pain on your back from laying on the hard bench, but you didn't care. All you could think about was your orgasm that was quickly approaching.

"Damn it... your greedy cunt just keeps suckin' me in. Gonna get me fuckin’ addicted." Toji's thrusts became harder as he placed one of your legs on his shoulder.

"I'm close- so close Toji. Please can I- ah!" Loud whimpers and broken moans spilled from your mouth as Toji fucked you. You were so close.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fuckin' cock then, slut." He brought his thumb down and worked fast circles on your clit. Your whole body tensed up as you screamed, eyes rolling back into your head, back arched off the bench. White hot pleasure shot through your entire body as you squirted all over Toji's thighs and abs. Your walls squeezed him, nearly suffocating his dick.

"Fuuuuck... that's it, good fucking girl. Cum all over my- god damn- cum all over my cock!"

You were finally coming down from your high when you felt Toji pull out. Your eyes were hazy and unfocused as you watched him stroke his cock, his eyes squeezed shut before spilling his cum all over your stomach with a groan. "Oh... fuck yes"

He took a moment to catch his breath before taking in the sight in front of him. "Look at that... all fucked out and covered in my cum like a true slut."

You smiled lazily as you sat up on the bench. "I'm only a slut for you."

He gave a low hum of approval before helping you stand up. "You bet your ass you are. Now how 'bout we go get cleaned up in the shower."

You gave a nod as you started towards the shower on shaky legs. Once you were both inside with the water on, you turned to him and saw his dick hard once again and realized you weren't going to get cleaned up just yet. You knew you'd definitely be sore for the next few days and that you'd have to do more late-night workouts with Toji in the future.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji fushigro x reader #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #jujustsu kaisen smut #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)

*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.

What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.

You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”

“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.

You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes.

You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”

“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.

You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.

You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you.

“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.

“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.

You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”

“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”

“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.

Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.

You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock.

“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”

He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum.

He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue.

“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.

You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.

After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made.

“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.

At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.

“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.

“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?

Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.

“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind.

“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”

“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work.

You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.

As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”

“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy.

He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.

His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.

You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?

His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.

Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed. You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”

He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.

“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.

Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building.

Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon…

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.

You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,

“Let’s actually grab a drink.”

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queers-gambit · 4 months ago

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Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

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