#so I will just let it stew for a while longer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thalwri · 4 months ago

Text

STICKY N' WET

synopsis: your agitating ex tries to disrupt your peace again, but he doesn't realise sylus is around. and neither of you realise that your working together to finally get rid of your ex would bring you much closer.

warnings: heavy smut, dry humping, strip tease, riding, creampies, shower sex, couch sex, petnames (kitten, sweetie, sweetheart), squirting, messy and very wet

wc: 5,6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“where are you off to, kitten?”

you turned on your heel, seconds away from fuming. “i told you to stop calling me that.”

there had been incessant knocking torturing your door to your apartment. somehow you’ve been letting sylus stay in your place for weeks on end while he occasionally disappeared to the n109 zone for his usual business.

between your tether to him being more intense than usual, and the recent events you’d been going through, you couldn’t tell whether you were grateful for his presence or felt more at peace when he wasn’t around for a brief time.

it had been five minutes. you wouldn’t really think that the knocking was bad but realistically if someone knocked at your door without a break and did it very loudly even without a response, then that would be concerning.

sylus found it irritating in the least, but had the tolerance to ignore it until the relentless fool disappeared on their own. he watched you walk to the door and look into the peep hole. your breath hitched as you stumbled back, covering your mouth with both hands before quickly dropping them to your sides.

“what is it?”

“my ex.” your voice dropped to a monotone line, your body still on the door in front of you. sylus groaned, pinching his brows but he had to admit he wasn’t surprised.

your break up wasn’t revolutionary and chaotic so to speak, but it wasn’t peaceful either. he had been there for you through the process, he didn’t even have to calm you down so he had thought you’d breeze through it and give him more of your attention.

until you started crying.

apparently, the fool had gotten with another woman just weeks after your split and that broke you. so two months following that, sylus had spent his hours of quality time with you helping you recover and move on all while plotting all the crude and illegal things he could do to that insect to avenge you.

he had thought to impale the guy with a fork, or peel off his skin with a carrot peeler, and make a stew out of him so that if anyone investigated, they’d eat the evidence. hannibal style. if he ever told you that, you would most likely be disgusted.

sylus rose to his feet in solemn silence and gently moved you away from the door. “i’ll handle it, kitten.”

“sylus–“

“i’ll handle it.” the depth his voice had lowered to was an instant indication that you could no longer try to interfere. whatever he was about to do, you could only pray it wasn’t going to get him arrested.

you turned away, pinching the corners of your eyes as the door opened for sylus to be greeted by yelling.

“what took you so long to answer– who are you?”

“the owner of this apartment. who in this bereft city are you?” well, being the owner, so to speak, was a lie. technically you owned it– but sylus began to actually live and function there more than you had in the last few months.

just looking at the bastard in person began to irk him. sylus wholeheartedly believed you could do far better than you had but he knew better than to lose his chances of being especially close to you by questioning your judgement. he was not interested in fighting you for your attention for he knew that you truly were drawn to him.

how could you not be attracted to each other especially after all you’ve gone through together?

sylus looked your ex up and down in disgust and scoffed out a laugh. “what are you doing here? this is the last time i’ll ask.”

“where is my girlfriend?” your ex grumbled, attempting to look over sylus’ body by standing on the tips of his toes. you intuitively stepped back before you stopped. would you really let this happen over and over again? being tormented like this?

not again.

“she’s not–“ sylus began to ball his hands into fists as he spoke before you held him to calm him down.

“it’s okay,” you gave him a grateful smile, patting his chest for him to step back. “i told you to stop calling and coming to my apartment.”

“i just wanted to talk–“

“you lost your chance, so do me a favour and screw yourself to another planet before i feed you to the fucking wanderers. we’re over. for a reason. and here’s no turning back from that. so leave.”

“but–“

“out.”

“no, i–“

the sound of a gun– your gun– cocked, you felt a tall figure looming over you oozing murderous energy. sylus aimed the gun directly at your ex’s head.

“you heard my woman,” he snarled, trying his best to hide his prideful smirk. you felt your ears warm. look at you, standing on your own feet against vermin-like that ex of yours. “get out.”

“who do you think you are?” your ex scoffed, sorely attempting to push out his chest to seem confident.

“he is my boyfriend,” you stepped forward, pushing your ex back by pointing your finger at him with each statement you make until he’s out of the doorway. “he is my man, he is what matters to me now, and you are nothing to me. so get out and stay out of my life before i kill you with my bare hands.”

and with that, you slam the door shut, locking the door quickly. you leaned against the door, catching empty air while your heart rate slowed down from the nerves. you heard sylus chuckle and put your gun down.

“that was impressive, sweetie.” you groaned in your hands, intentionally avoiding his gaze. you called him your boyfriend. your man. and he called you his woman. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that nice to say, but still!

“look at me,” his voice, both soothing and arousing compelled you to listen to him. you removed your hands from your eyes and looked sylus in the eye.

“i suppose you’re satisfied.” you sighed in exhaustion, you felt so drained from talking to that ex of yours. a snack would be doing wonders at this time.

“i’m proud of you,” he smiled– a rarity from sylus but fully appreciated nonetheless. “standing your ground, defending your privacy, referring to me as your man–“

“you’re terrible,” you choked out a laugh, slapping his abdomen.

“i’m divine, kitten, and you know it.”

you weren’t going to deny that. especially after being trapped in his homestead, after getting to know him, along with seeing a great many parts of him. he was an attractive man, that was undeniable.

his wit, intelligence, and sense of control during missions and operations within onychinus and how he spends time with you are all things you’d grown to admire about him. you adored him and felt rather enamoured by the things he does. the things he does to you.

within the last month, you’d seen him in ways that you should have deemed inappropriate. watching exit the shower, water dripping down the lines of his abdomen and disappearing within the towel wrapped around his waist. with his grey lashes holding small droplets above his deliciously terrifying crimson eyes of his.

how his chest always looked larger every time you saw him, or how you’d intentionally bend down with your ass in the air when he was within your proximity. something at the time you thought as harmless. but now you’re standing before him and you felt a new wave of need.

whether it was from what he said or the fact that he was ready to kill for you, you didn’t know. but now you were feeling restless.

“sylus,”

he breathed out your name in response, almost as though he was holding in some pent in energy. you could feel energy swirling in your heart as you watched his eye twitch. the same eye that held his part of the aether core. were you resonating without touching each other?

“thank you,” you began, struggling to find your words. “for earlier.”

“anything for you, sweetie.” he stepped closer to you, making you tilt your neck slightly to meet his gaze. “including covering for your pretty ass whenever your missions went sideways because of that creature of an ex.”

you stifled a laugh through the noise of your aether tethered heart rapidly beating. watching his lips curve, purse, and move as he spoke, watching his eyes kind of lighten just from speaking with you… you just couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“you just can’t seem to take your eyes off me or stop thinking about me, can you kitten?” he smirked, placing his hand beneath your chin. “it would only be fair for me to admit i have had the same sentiment, but for much longer than i’d like to admit.”

“then do something about it,” you brashly whispered, feeling your patience wear thin. this was the closest chance you had at doing something with him without fear. “you’ve got your chance, so use it.”

“oh?” that irritating yet attractive chuckle filled the room other than whatever was playing on the tv. you could just feel your clit tingle from it. “is kitten baring her claws again?”

you gripped the collar of his dress shirt, harshly pulling him close to you– his lips less than a breath away from yours. “this kitten is baring her teeth, and telling sylus she wants him.”

that seemed to be the perfect buzzword. before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, his arms wrapped around your torso, and if you weren’t mistaken a short moan had escaped his lips. there was barely a moment for you to absorb the kiss, as you had already begun to peel each other’s clothing off from the jackets to the shirts and eventually the pants.

you pushed sylus onto the couch and straddled him, his hands held the back of your thighs pushing you up more towards him as your lips danced and tugged away in both passion and desire. he dropped you onto his lap, subtly introducing you to the growing bulge beneath you. it felt so big. you gasped as he began to grind against your clothed pussy, his hands reaching for your ass and tits to fondle and squeeze.

“i want you,” sylus whispered, momentarily stopping to lock his crimson eyes on yours in seriousness. “and i have you. do you want us to continue. we’ll stop if you aren’t ready.”

you smiled in gratitude for his concern for you. “i’m ready, sylus. i’m ready for you–” before you could finish your sentence, your lips are locked in a chaste kiss, your groins meeting each other through relentless grinds and your heavy sighs and soft whines competing with the television’s noise.

you wanted to truly show sylus how much you appreciated all that he has done for you in the past month so you slowly pulled yourself away, gently pushing him back when his lips followed and rose to your feet.

“stand up,” sylus rose without question, hiding his curiosity with a ‘hmph’. “take off your underwear.”

he raised an eyebrow, his ruby eyes glistened with excitement. “and what about you, kitten? don’t you think this is a little bit unfair?”

“i want to give you a show,” you tug at the hem of his black briefs, which had a wet spot marked around his erection. the more you looked at the shape of his cock, the more you realised just how big he was. you could feel both your mouth and pussy water at that sight alone.

“i think i’m the one entertaining you right now,” in a swift move, he pulled down his briefs and kicked them aside. his cock bounced free and stood so tall and proud, his tip was reddened and shining with leaky precum leaving a mess on his lower abdomen.

“don’t be shy,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and placing it on his cock. it was so warm and so hard, you couldn’t help yourself from stroking it. sylus closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh as you pumped his cock from the base to the tip stopping to circle your finger lightly over his slit.

“h-ha, kitten, that’s- oh,” you dragged your precum glistened finger down a large vein that travelled to the base then removed your hand. still in a slight daze from your touch, sylus didn’t hear what you said.

“i’m gonna give you a little show,” you boldly repeated, grabbing his face with a hand to give him a chaste kiss, swiping your tongue briefly across his lips before he could react. you stepped back to create some distance between the two of you to give him a bit of a sight to see.

sylus laughed and plopped himself back onto the couch, spreading his legs to give you constant access to his throbbing, twitching, leaky cock. his hand was wrapped around the shaft, slowly stroking it as translucent drops leaked from his tip. seeing him in his nude, blatant glory brought a flood of heat rush over your body and settle in your clit– which was rudely rubbing against the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t get cold feet now, sweetie,” sylus breathed, his chest beginning to heave and sweat. you’d barely gotten to do what you wanted.

“best you be patient.” you scoffed, unclasping your bra, slowly peeling the straps down each shoulder. you turned making your back face him and peeled off your bra and tossed it towards him.

sylus’ hands were long gone from his hard, throbbing cock to catch your bra. he set it on his thigh, resting on the couch arms spread wide intrigued to see what else you had in store for him. “continue, kitten. my patience is wearing thin.”

you slowly turned to face him again, saving your final reveal for much later. you swayed your way back to him and sat on his lap, carefully pressing his cock against his abdomen with your body. his breath hitched at the friction from your underwear rubbing against his sensitive flesh. his warm precum began to soak your panties, but not as much as your pussy was.

you held his cock against you and adjusted your positioning so that you could ride the length of him. going back and forth against him, the raw friction of fabric against sensitive skin sent sylus into a frenzy, gripping the sides of the couch as he watched you basically dry hump him when he should be deep inside you.

“kitten,” he gritted, holding back a guttural groan. you responded with a lascivious moan, almost vibrating from the stimulation from just dry riding his cock. sylus’ hands flew to your hips and lifted you up with just a fraction of his strength. his cock flew back and hit his abs with a soft plap!

“i’m growing impatient,” he lowly whispered, his eyes slowly darkening with desire and arousal. he was in no position to play along with you anymore. he was ready to fuck you good. “so i’m going to ask you again. are you ready for us to continue?”

you ferociously nodded, holding his face in your hands engulfing him in another kiss. you invited his tongue into your mouth to explore and savour you, occasionally greeting it with your own. as you felt yourself sinking into the kiss, you felt your pantie get moved aside before a long finger slid into you. you gasped momentarily before sylus caught your lips again, swallowing your eventual moan as his finger curled inside you.

“answer the question.”

“yes, sylus, i’m ready for you,” you panted. “i’m ready.”

and with that, sylus did not hold back further. his finger pumped into your wet pussy in slow rhythm before pushing a second in. your body trembled at the feeling, tensing as his fingers pumped deeper into you whilst curling to find that special area of yours.

“so wet,” he commented, pecking kisses along your neck. “soaking through your pretty underwear just for me. imagine how much harder i’m getting just from watching you.”

you didn’t even think it was possible for that to happen. a third finger slid in right as you were about to respond, pulling a deep moan out of you. being stretched out like this was not new, but with sylus it gave a more delicious sting.

“don’t squirm, sweetie,” he purred, curving all three digits in you again. “this is necessary if you want my cock to fit in well without hurting you.”

you couldn’t say much other than nod. getting so mindless over his fingers was worrying. what would his cock feel like?

sylus slowly removed his fingers, watching how your slick nectar connected to each one before slowly licking it off one of his fingers whilst locking his eyes on you. such an erotic tease. he rubbed his other– still slick– fingers on your lips, painting them in your wetness. you slowly opened your mouth and leaned your head forward to take his fingers in.

“fuck,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching your tongue clean him up slipping and swirling around him. he just imagined what it would be like to fuck your pretty mouth until you were drooling with his cum.

“me,”

“what?”

“fuck me, sylus.” you gave him a look of determination and need. that was all he had to hear. a loud rriiiiiip snapped you out of your daze, and a light draft fanned at your ass.

“sylus!”

“hmm?” he smiled, pulling off your now shredded underwear from your body.

“that was my favourite set!” you pouted, even though you were heavily attracted to that move from him.

“you know i’ll get you new ones,” sylus scoffed, moving your hips to align your pussy with the tip of his cock. he knew you were on the pill. how? he accompanied you to get them and pestered you whenever you forgot. he adored you but he also cared immensely for your wellbeing.

“i love that you wore that set today,” he grinned looking up at you and pecked your nipples before gently suckling them for a few seconds. “love the red.” he paused, wanting to ask you once more for confirmation.

you nodded before he could ask. “i’m good and ready when you are– o-oh,”

his tip prodded at your entrance and was welcomed with slick warmth sucking him into you. he stopped half way in, slowly breathing to be accustomed to the feeling of your pussy clamping on his cockhead so tightly he almost came on the spot. you had let out a gasp at the feeling, clutching his shoulders with your nails.

“are you alright?” he asked. beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. you nodded. “let’s continue.”

slowly, you sank down onto him swallowing his cock, intentionally squeezing him to watch him squirm and moan from your tightness. you gently laughed, giving away your teasing which sylus quickly caught onto. he scoffed out a laugh and bucked his hips up to yours, ramming the rest of his cock into you with just a bit still outside.

you moaned from the instantaneous move, barely recovering from it when that evil grey haired man began to thrust into you, pulling his cock in and out gradually increasing his pace. your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you tried to follow his pace, riding him to meet his hips whenever he thrusted up into you.

“oh fuck, kitten your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pushing deeper and harder into you. your eyes crossed feeling like he reached a spot you didn’t realise existed. “must have hit your g-spot, hm? oh, baby you feel so good around me”

you could barely respond, overwhelmed by the new wave of pleasure you were receiving. hearing his sexy noises while fucking his cock into you was bringing you faster to your climax than your vibrator ever had. and all so quickly too. but it seemed he was also drawing near to cumming too.

“just– ah, fuck– so tight!” he could barely swallow his whines as your hips meet faster and harder. “that tight pussy’s about to make me cum, kitten. g-gosh fuck me– you see what you do to me?”

rendered speechless, you could only nod. and it only took a few more thorough thrusts before you spasmed all over his cock, throwing your head back as you climaxed. just seconds after, a gush of hot, cum flowed into your pussy, making you so weak in the knees you couldn’t move. sylus fuck his cum into you, moaning your name.

despite that brief finish, you both knew you wanted more.

“again,” his voice rumbled in demand. you rasped your agreement, about to move when an idea came to your mind.

“sylus,”

“mm.”

“let’s go to the shower.”

he looked up at you with a raised brow. “you feel dirty already? kitten, we’ve barely started.”

“no, you crow,” you smacked his large chest in irritation. “i mean, let’s continue in the shower.”

sylus momentarily paused, blankly staring at you. you always wondered what went through his mind when he did that. in that instance, he rose to his feet carrying you while his cock was still lodged in your pussy. not only that, he was still alarmingly hard despite cumming already,

“you didn’t think i’d be done after such a small round, did you?” he grinned. “we’re just getting started.” you didn’t know whether to be afraid or dangerously aroused more than before.

you went through your bedroom to your bathroom, where sylus eventually set you to your feet. his cum began to slowly ooze out of you, travelling down your legs and painting them in the evidence of the mess that would have been made on your couch.

the bathroom began to steam slightly as the water ran. a large hand was held out for you– sylus offering it for you to join him. as you entered, your lips were immediately occupied with his, tied in a dance of need and insatiable greed that only the two of you could soothe for each other.

“you’re so perfect, sylus,” you sighed on his lips. “you’ve always been so great, such an amazing person in my life.” you kissed him again. “just want to show you how grateful i am for you.”

“you already have,” he pecked your cheeks. “just by being in my life.”

your kisses, gradually intensified as you touched each other, stimulating your needs before sylus gently moved you against the glass wall of the shower and picked you up hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing your weight on the glass to keep you in place.

he gently lowered you back into him, instantly filling you up with his cock again. each time felt like it had gotten thicker. sylus regained proper footing on the wet tiles, slowly thrusting up into you before his pace quickened, going faster and harder until your pretty tits bounced from the sheer force of being fucked against the glass shower wall.

and that wasn’t near how fast he planned to plough your sweet pussy. he had so much more in store for you. so much he’d been waiting to do. control was no longer a word in his vocabulary.

“ooh, just– fuck– just– just like that sy– so good!” you hiccuped, gripping onto his hair with one hand and scratching his nape with the other.

through the fog, you could see your reflection, his back muscles flexing and shining in sweat along with the heat, his light grey hair flattened and drenched sticking to his flushed skin, his lips so tantalisingly close to your ear, huffing out praises and moans all while nibbling at your flesh.

“how are you still so tight, kitten?” he purred, pounding into you like his life depended on it. his hands tightly gripped your thighs indenting marks onto them, another sign of him marking his territory. “gonna fuck you so deep ‘n paint you with my cum.”

thrust after thrust his cock travelled deeper and deeper into you than it had earlier, pounding your weeping cunt so much that the squelches from a mixture your slick wetness and his cum became louder than the sound of your shower. sylus slowly pulled his cock back until his cockhead peeked out then slammed himself back up into you, finding that carnal spot of yours again. your eyes instantly crossed upon the impact, ripping a raw cry from deep within your throat.

“you sound like music,” he groaned, you could feel him smiling against your neck as he licked and suckled multiple rude, disrespectful bruises onto your skin. marking you as his and his alone for all of linkon and the n109 to see. “beautiful melody for just me to hear, sweetie.” he drew back and pulled out of you slowly and thrust clean into you once more before setting you down to the floor.

you wasted no time grabbing his shoulders and pulled him into a lustful, needy kiss, engulfing him in your adoration and enticement. he occasionally nipped your lower lip, groaning at the feeling of your hand creeping down his abdomen to stroke his neglected, twitching cock. it was drenched and leaking with precum again, as if there would never be an end to how much he could stuff you and cover you with it. the warm water pelted your skin, making you hotter and more breathless as the seconds went by.

“i’m going to give you everything you could ever want in this life,” he struggled to say whilst attempting to hold back the noises boiling deep in his chest. “my life, my heart, and my soul is yours, sweetheart.”

within an instant, you found your front pressed against the glass with your hands held behind your back. his lips grazed you ear, whispering his need for you as his warm cock circled your entrance, sliding up and down from the curve of your ass to his tip poking your aching clit.

“sylus,” you shivered, leaning back to rest on him before you lost balance– or even consciousness. you couldn’t tell how long you had been going on for anymore, and frankly you couldn’t care less. the tether between the two of you had wrapped so strongly that you couldn’t spend a second not being on each other.

“yes?” his hand gently tapped your chin so you could turn your face to him. he pecked the corner of your lip and rammed himself back into you without warning, forcing out a loud moan through your lips. those rough, and crude thrusts pounded through your tight, needy cunt, which was squeezing around his girth as much as possible. body pressed against the glass, the reflection of your fucked out face with sylus dazed and so drunk in your pussy made you clench harder.

“fuck, my– fuck,” his hips began to stutter and his cock throbbed in warning. the shower wall began to shake from the continuous impact of your bodies slamming together, clapping and squelching as if you just couldn’t be any closer. “if you squeeze again– oh, kitten, i’m going to fill you to the brim.”

he sunk his teeth deep into your flesh sending jolts of new pleasure down your spine, making you both moaning messes. his hands travelled around your body until his dominant hand settled on your abandoned clit to rub and swirl, and the other attacking your nipples– fondling and pinching them with greed to force out your most animalistic nature. your back arched helping you buck yourself into his hips, wanting to feel so much more of him, even though he had already abused your g-spot so much.

you sobbed and whined, singing praises to sylus for what he was doing to get you so horny for him. “keep fucking me like that, sy- fuck, please!” your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to hold onto him to stop yourself from collapsing. if it wasn’t his cock poking your cervix at this point, it was a sign that you were reaching your limit. “give me– can’t think– give it to me!”

neither of you could think that much, really. with you being so hypnotised and enamoured by his huge cock while he drowned and was drunk in your pussy, there wasn’t much to question. you both had a synonymous goal.

“gonna give it to you, kitten,” sylus seethed while licking your skin in ferocious lust, all he wanted and needed was to feel and taste you so he would do just that.

he felt so good inside your delectable pussy, loved how you tightened around him. he wanted to just cum on the spot, over and over and fuck you in every nook and cranny of your apartment then in each and every one of the properties he owned. he didn’t want to stop until every room you two entered was left smelling of cum and sex. who would he be to not desire such pleasure with someone as beautiful, powerful, and sexy as you?

“look at us, sweetie,” he huffed, momentarily stopping to push his cock as deeply into you as possible, completely bottoming out inside of you until all that would be seen was his balls flush against your pussy. he took long, deep, malicious strokes into you, the glass wall threatening to topple over. “look at yourself while i fuck you good, while i stuff my cock right into you.”

your eyes landed on your reflection but you couldn’t help yourself from watching him reduce you to slutty putty. making you feel like such a needy slut for his cock and his hot, thick cum.

“so pretty,” he moaned, throwing his head back. he could feel his orgasm nearing, his body was beginning to falter. “so definitely mine.”

the perverted reflection of you fucking yourself on his cock while he simultaneously bucked into you had taken you over the edge. your eyes rolled back and your jaws loosened as your body stilled. you let out a hoarse cry as you unfolded, tightly gripping onto him as you became undone, cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing and fluttering around him causing a wave of cum to fill you alongside his thrusts.

you were so full already that his cum leaked out your pussy in spurts, dripping down your legs and hitting the walls. another wave washed over you, and you could feel so much spurting out of you, spraying the wall and dripping down your bodies. you paused, still feeling sylus rutting his cum into you from behind.

you squirted. and he had quickly realised it too, from how his pace quickened again. you had felt his cock grow much harder even though he already came.

“fuck, you made such a mess kitten, wanna make you do it again,” he panted, pinching his eyes shut. “gonna fuck you so good, you squirt over and over.”

you still couldn’t understand how he got so hard so quickly but your pussy wasn’t done being fucked just yet. he quickly pulled himself out, his cock slapping against his abdomen still spurting out thick globs of cum. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder and bottomed out deep into you again, with a whole new angle. you both groaned at the feeling, your pussy being stretched by the curve of his depth, creaming and fluttering on it before he could thoroughly fuck you again.

he didn’t waste another second viciously stimulating your clit with his fingers while his cock aggressively drove into you, slapping your skin against his in a quickened rhythm. it didn’t take much before your poor, soaked cunt squeezed you into another orgasm, creaming a white ring around his base. you screamed, feeling a rush of pleasure force out an intense round of your nectar going everywhere onto your abdomen and his, ultimately making you squirt for the second time tonight.

you felt another gush of cum stuff your pussy as a whimper left sylus’ lips. you couldn’t help but love the fact that he got off just from you squirting. and that got you so much hornier, so needy to do more. but you doubted if your body was capable of handling that. you felt his cock slowly soften as you came down from your highs. he muttered something about wanting to stay inside you a bit longer, and you allowed it, also not wanting to be separated from him being in you just yet. maybe it was the aether cores keeping you attached.

moments passed as you both recovered from your orgasms, resting on each other, whispering praises, and kissed each other in dazed exhaustion. the running water rinsed away most of the cum and slick from your bodies, leaving the rest to be cleaned off once you were both ready.

“that was beautiful,” you murmured as you pulled away from his lips. sylus rested his forehead on yours, still trying to regain his breath. he reached to make the water slightly colder.

“you did so well,” he smiled. “i’m glad i was patient.”

as you began to clean each other up, as exhausted as you were, you felt satisfied. and at peace. sylus was a good ally and companion of yours but from the way things are looking now, you’re more than happy to take things much further.

a/n: I literally started playing lads a few days ago and OMG LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ITS SOO GOOD

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads sylus #sylus qin #lnds sylus #sylus smut #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace smut #qin che #l&ds sylus #lnds #✧.* thalwri works

5K notes · View notes

carnalcrows · 4 months ago

Text

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you��ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt.

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point.

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach.

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

2K notes · View notes

stellamarielu · 1 month ago

Text

late night visits

michael robinavitch x female reader

summary: somehow your neighbor is always finding himself at your front door hoping to find relief through casual hookups, but you both can’t deny your feelings any longer

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, mutual pining, oral f!receiving, mention of an age gap because i can’t help myself, just dr robby having a realization of feelings while going down on you

author’s note: told y’all i was gonna write some dr robby smut!! like usual, it didn’t feel right to jump right in with nasty jaw dropping smut so here’s a little fluffy— but still saucy, hookup drabble with the hunkiest emergency doctor i know

Michael Robinavitch was your neighbor.

Your apartment doors faced each other which lead to many casual exchanges and brief interactions.

They started off innocent; shy waves and polite smiles.

Then, they turned into conversations about what each of you did for a living and how long you’d lived in the city— just a culmination of small talk and harmless banter that took place in the little hallway of your apartment building.

But then, after weeks of coy chitchatting outside of your front doors, your exchanges escalated.

Your conversations with Robby had turned into hushed moans and deep throaty groans as his hands gripped furiously at your hips while he thrusted into you after an exhausting day at work.

The first time you tested the waters of shared desire was a little over a month ago. You spontaneously invited him over to join you for dinner as he was getting home from work. Neither of you thought much about it. It felt like a simple invitation to get to know a new-ish neighbor. Just a friendly meeting over a quick meal, but it turned out to be something entirely different.

That evening ended with his calloused hands greedily sliding up your body with your back pressed against a wall.

Both of you were stewing with pent-up frustration and using the other for an easy thoughtless release.

The next time you found yourself underneath his body was just as unexpected but far more impassioned.

He had knocked on your door, his expression unsure yet somehow laced with anticipation when you answered.

He started trying to make up some excuse as to why he was interrupting your nighttime routine until you pulled him into your apartment, meeting his lips with your own in a hurried and desperate kiss.

It continued like that for weeks, late night visits full of eager touches and sinful craving.

The exact nature of your relationship was unclear. You just found one another for physical connection, never getting in too deep or finding meaning in your dubiously satisfying meetings.

But, of course you had feelings for the guy, he had his dick buried in you on a nightly basis. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

You couldn’t help but assume he saw you as a quick fuck— an easy way to detach from his day in a bout of vulgar connection.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Sure, the first time had been because Robby needed a distraction. You were just stood there, cooking a meal for him and listening intently as he told you about his profession. You were completely enthralled with him, your lips turning up into a cute little smile, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that; let alone a beautiful woman nearly half his age. It was almost criminal how fast he gave into temptation, letting himself get a taste of you through hungry kisses and tainted intentions.

After that he became addicted to you.

He even found himself thinking about you at work— a place that didn’t allow more than a sliver of space in his mind to think about anything other than the task at hand, yet you occupied nearly every corner of it.

So he kept showing up— kept seeking you out in hopes that he could stay high on your presence long enough to stay satisfied before getting the next inevitable taste.

You seemed to enjoy the unspoken arrangement. He didn’t want to ruin anything with the complication feelings and exclusivity. Plus, he was a busy man, relationships never seemed to work well for him, so maybe this situation was for the best.

But now, his face was buried between your legs, and he peered up to find your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen something so picturesque. So undeniably perfect.

“God, You’re beautiful.” His voice was a hum against your skin as he stopped to place a sloppy kiss on the inside of your thigh along with his words.

Your fingers tightened into his hair as his mouth hungrily worked at your core.

You opened your eyes to glance down at him, unsure of how to take his compliment while he was busy doing such lewd things to you.

He caught the silly grin on your lips at his words— so pure and gentle. The innocent curve of your mouth only made him want more. He gently grabbed at your thighs, spreading them even further.

The soft moan of approval slipping from your tongue had an involuntary groan breaking from his chest.

With every sweet sound off your lips he dived deeper into you. His mouth was expertly working you toward your release, and just as you felt the pressure getting ready to snap, he pulled away.

He rested between your legs, his torso propped up just enough to get a good look at you.

“Let’s grab a bite to eat after this.” His statement came out in a breathless whisper. It seemed more like a question with the way his eyes were looking up, watching intently.

You tried to hide the giggle that at your lips as a small smile took over your expression.

What on earth prompted him to bring this up while he had you on the verge of coming undone on his tongue?

But also, why was it so sweet? The way his words held such sincerity felt extremely intimate.

“Just- I want to take you out somewhere.” His grin was wide as he watched you react to his ill-timed inquiry.

He knew it was late and maybe you wouldn’t be interested, but he couldn’t help but ask.

Watching your back arch under his touch and hearing your sweet whimpers fill his ears had him losing his patience.

He needed more of you.

Needed it so badly that he was stopping himself from tasting your sweet release just to ask for more of your time. The two of you were only ever together in a dimly lit apartments under bed sheets, he wanted to go out with you; somewhere different, somewhere new. He wanted to take you to grab a coffee down the street at that place that stays open until 2am. He wanted to ask you questions about yourself and watch you smile while you talked— to see the sweet curve of your lips that he'd grown so attached to.

Maybe he wasn’t much of a relationship guy, but he couldn’t deny the feelings he harbored for you.

“Like a date?” You were leaning back on your elbows with your eyebrows raised subtly at his suggestion.

“Yeah, a date.”

“Ok Robby. I’ll go on a date with you.” Your smirk met his idiotic grin as he dove back down, satisfied by your answer.

He resumed his previous actions with a fervor of victory.

“Perfect.” The word was messy as it left his lips and landed directly on your core.

It wasn’t long before your body was tensing, and mumbled profanities filled the room at your release. Even though you had just finished on his tongue, you weren’t done. You wanted to let him fuck you into the sheets, to repay him for getting you off, but he refused. No— he was determined to follow through on his promise.

The two of you walked side by side to grab a coffee at nearly midnight; you laughing and him watching, as he got to know you outside of the walls of your apartment.

#i feel like this is something he would do idk #a date (and a fuck) with dr robby would cure me #man of my dreams fr #michael robinavitch #the pitt #dr robby #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch smut #dr robby smut #the pitt fanfiction

832 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 1 month ago

Text

I Spy With My Little Eye

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin got you a little present for when he's away on missions for a longer time.

A/N: This is based off a tiktok I saw about a husband bothering his wife with the Ebo Bot while he's deployed

"...Joaquin, what is this exactly?" you look at the device inside the box.

Your boyfriend looks at you excitedly, "It's a little robot that I can use to communicate with you while I'm away on missions."

You pull it out along with instructions, "Honey, this is sweet and all, but our phones work just fine."

"But our phones don't roll around looking all cute like!" You watch as he downloads the required app and sets up the bot. Soon enough, the round, white and black bot is rolling around your living room floor. Joaquin controls it from his phone.

"See!" He then taps his phone again, "And I can talk to you through it like this!"

Honestly, you still didn't see the purpose of the bot, but it made Joaquin happy and it provides another form of communication with him while he's away.

"It does look pretty cute," you say, giving him a soft smile, which makes his own smile grow wider.

__________________

You're in the kitchen cooking dinner for yourself when you hear the rolling of wheels, "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

You chuckle and look down at your feet. The ebo bot is angled up at you as your boyfriend speaks through it, "Making soup?" Joaquin asks as he notes the pot in front of you.

"Close. I'm cooking stew."

"All of that for you?"

You roll your eyes, "No. I'll eat what I can and then I'll freeze the rest to eat for another time. Or if you want to eat it when you come back, all you have to do is heat it back up."

"Oooohh smart."

"Everything going okay?" you ask as you go back to cooking.

"Yup. Probably will be back in a day or two....can you pick me up and put me on the counter?"

You snort, "Really? Why?"

"So I can get a better look at your beautiful face, obviously." You hear the grin in his voice.

You roll your eyes again but you oblige. For the past few missions, Joaquin has used the ebo bot to talk to you, mess around, and be a little nuisance. You could tell he was enjoying it way too much.

"I hope Sam never gives you your own Red Wing. I can't imagine the nonsense you'd pull with something more advance," you smirk at the bot that rolls around the counter beside you.

"I've already asked and he refuses to give me one."

You laugh, "As he should! You're a menace with this little thing," you gesture to the bot with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"I'm just making sure you're not lonely when I'm away!"

"Baby, I love you, but we both know you're the clingier one between us."

You laugh as the bot turns around and rolls towards a corner, appearing as if Joaquin is pouting.

"Take it back."

"No, because it's true! And I didn't say it was a bad thing, Joaco!"

"No, no, no. It's fine. Screw me for being super duper in love with my beautiful and amazing girlfriend." he proceeds to roll towards the edge of the counter and you stop him.

"You're so dramatic," you say with a smirk as you pick up the bot and raise it to eye level.

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. Very much," you kiss the bot and set it back on the counter, "Were you going to watch me eat dinner?"

"Nah. I'll let you go. I need to work on reports or Sam will get on me again."

You snicker, "Alright," you set the bot onto the floor, "Love you. Bye!"

"Love you! Byyyyyeeeeee!" he elongates the word as rolls all the way back to the dock, causing you to laugh to yourself.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres imagine

511 notes · View notes

greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

Text

father. l Joel Miller

Summary: life decided to surprise you

Warnings: angst, sad, some fluff, anger, crying, worries, vomiting ; Ellie appears there, mention of pregnancy

A/N: ok so, i've been planning this for a while now, i hope you'll take this chapter well and have mercy on me. i'm waiting for your opinions. thank you

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]

It was still early, the sun had only recently begun to slowly break through the curtains of your bedroom. The silence in the room was broken only by your steady breathing as you curled up in a deep sleep, unaware that Joel was no longer asleep.

He rested his head on his hand and watched you closely. The strands of your hair spilling over the pillow, he saw how your chest rose with your gentle breath, noticed the delicate movements of your body and felt your warmth.

God, he loved you so much, and at the same time he had been feeling a strange fear. It all started almost two weeks ago when he made himself some coffee in the morning, and after entering the kitchen you immediately ran to the bathroom.

"It must be yesterday's stew." You mumbled when your stomach had already calmed down, and Joel insisted that you should stay at home that day.

However, the situation repeated itself several times. Joel was on patrol at the time, but Ellie told him about it, warning him that you forbade her to tell anyone about it, especially Joel.

"It could be something serious." she mumbled, clearly concerned that she was breaking her promise to you. "I don't want anything to happen to her."

It worried him, and even more so because you pretended that there was no problem. Joel wasn't stupid, so he let every thought come to his mind, even the one that scared him the most.

"When was the last time you bled?"

You looked at him in surprise, fluffing the pillow. "What kind of question is that?"

He picked up the sheets from the ground that were supposed to go to the wash and shrugged. "I just wondered. Didn't you think that maybe..."

He noticed how you frowned and tensed up. Apparently you didn't let that thought get to you, but Joel did. He had been a father before, he knew perfectly well how pregnancy went and was a good observer.

"Maybe what?" you asked quietly.

"I think you might be pregnant." he finally said and you chuckled.

"Please." you snorted, "That's impossible."

"Why?" He put the sheets on the bed and rested his arms on his hips. "You're nauseous, more sleepy, your breasts...are bigger. Baby, have you considered that you could..."

"No!" you interrupted him firmly "I know pulling out isn't the best method of contraception, but we're careful." Joel raised his eyebrows and you groaned "Why do you even have to bring this up?" you sat down on the bed, burying your face in your hands.

"Sweetheart, I know it's hard..." he said, coming over and sitting next to you, he stroked your back slowly "But... I remember what it looked like, and now I see it on you. We should check it out and..."

"No!" you interrupted him abruptly and stood up unexpectedly "I'm not pregnant. It's just some stupid virus or something. I'm tired and that's all."

The tears that appeared in your eyes hurt him. The thought of pregnancy, of a child, was painful for him, but then he realized what you could feel. You knew about Sarah and that he had lost her. You had to find out since her name was in Tommy's house. However, you never talked about it, you never asked him about that life. And now...

You must have been terrified and you didn't allow yourself to think about this possibility at all.

The next few days passed by avoiding the topic. Joel knew that you were vomiting, although you tried to hide it. He saw how you were fighting sleep. You were so incredibly stubborn not to admit to yourself what he was trying to tell you. So he had to take matters into his own hands.

You slowly opened your eyes and stretched. You didn't even have time to greet him when three pregnancy tests appeared before your eyes.

"I got them on the last patrol." Joel announced "Please, just do it. If it's a virus, I'll leave you alone. I want to make sure you're safe."

You wanted to rebel, you wanted to talk him out of this stupid idea, but you gave in. It made no sense. So you disappeared into the bathroom for the longest five minutes of your lives.

Joel knew he'd never forget the look on your face when you opened the door. Your eyes were wide, and your face was filled with terror and shock. He'd barely taken the test from your hand when you'd slumped to the floor, tears streaming down your face.

All three were positive.

It was like a punch in the gut. He'd guessed that might be the case, but the reality had overwhelmed him.

"I can't, I can't, Joel..." you repeated as he stared at the result, unable to gather his thoughts, "God, what have I done!"

"Honey, it's not just you..." he said sitting down next to you and taking you in his arms, but nothing reached you.

No words from him, no comforting. You cried until you got tired and fell asleep again.

"A baby? You're having a baby?" Tommy looked at Joel in surprise "Wow! I mean... That's great, right?"

It was late. Jackson was shrouded in darkness when Joel appeared on his brother's porch. Despite the invitation, he didn't go inside, he was too shaken to even sit down.

Now that he had confessed to his brother what you had found out that morning, he felt the reality starting to creep in.

"I'm too old for this." he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief "I can't believe that.. Shit! Do you know what I put her through? I was stupid to think that I could have a normal life, that we could pretend that..."

"Fuck, Joel!" Tommy hissed, looking at him angrily "What are you talking about?! You love her!"

"So what?!" he snapped "That won't save her and...the baby."

He was furious. He clenched his hands on the porch railing, not even knowing what he expected. The strong need to throw it all away made Joel go to his brother, but he didn't support him. No, he told him that what he was so afraid of was wonderful.

"Would you marry her if the world was different?"

The question surprised him. He looked at Tommy, confused.

"It's a simple question." Tommy leaned back next to him and folded his arms over his chest. "Would you marry her? Would you like to have this child then?"

He slowly nodded.

"You think you don't deserve a normal life, but that's not true. You have the right to be happy, and she gives it to you. I'm sure she's scared too..."

"She's been crying nonstop since this morning, she hasn't eaten much…" Joel replied. "I'm scared, you know. I don't want to lose her… Her and the baby."

"When Maria was pregnant I was scared too. But we have a really good doctor in Jackson. We have the equipment."

Joel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt like Tommy had lifted some of the burden off his shoulders and filled his heart with a little hope.

"Please don't tell anyone in Jackson." he said finally. "Let's keep this between us for now."

"Sure." Tommy patted him on the back. "Of course, she won't be going on patrols anymore. I'll find someone else to take her place."

"Thanks."

It was earlier when he went down to the kitchen and noticed with surprise that Ellie was preparing tea and breakfast. She bustled around without a word and put everything on a tray as if she wanted to take it somewhere.

"What are you doing?" Joel asked, and the girl almost jumped.

"What does it look like?" she snapped. "I'm making her breakfast. She hasn't eaten since yesterday. I don't know what's wrong with her, but if she keeps this up, she'll spit her stomach out. Maybe she should see a doctor, eh?"

"The doctor probably won't help her now." Joel snapped, pouring himself some coffee.

Ellie put the pan in the sink and looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked "Don't tell me she's pregnant or something."

Joel swallowed a sip of coffee, but didn't answer. He also didn't see Ellie's eyes widen with excitement.

"Oh, fuck!" she screamed excitedly and immediately fell silent, scolded by Joel's look. "Really?! Shit, dude! I thought you knew how this would end, but you're so crazy about her that I'm not surprised. A baby…"

She took the tray in her hands, but immediately put it down as if something had occurred to her.

"That's why she's crying so much," she said worriedly, "I saw her eyes. She hasn't left the room since yesterday."

"She's..." Joel didn't know how to put it all into words, it was so surreal, "It caught us off guard. We don't know how to deal with it yet."

"What do you mean?" Ellie grimaced, "You love each other, you're going to have a baby. It's pretty simple."

He raised a hand to stop the girl, because her stream of thoughts was slowly overwhelming him. "It's not that simple, Ellie. Bringing a child into this world is risky."

The girl shrugged. "But you're his father, right? You'll keep her and the little one safe. This kid really hit the jackpot. I know what I'm talking about! I don't know my father or mom, but you two are doing a really good job."

It was late when Joel took you to the clinic two days later. The streets of Jackson were dark, and Dr. Morris opened the door for you without unnecessary remarks. You didn't want anyone to see you, you didn't want anyone to know.

Even though you weren't crying anymore, everything still seemed unrealistic to you. At first you denied the thought of pregnancy, then you blamed yourself, and none of Joel's words could change that. Even though it was hard for him, he finally accepted it. You would have a child, he would be a father again.

Maybe Tommy was right? Maybe he had a chance for a little happiness in his life? He had Ellie, who was like a daughter to him. And he had you. And you were everything. With you, he felt as if you took his heart in your hands and took care of it. He couldn't imagine any other life than with you. What if the world looked different? Yes, Tommy was right. He wouldn't hesitate. Even though Joel had already been burned once, and even though his heart was broken, with you he wanted to try again.

"This might feel a little uncomfortable." Doctor Morris said as you settled down and pulled your shirt up, the cool gel covering your lower abdomen. "Don't worry. It'll take a moment."

You nodded. Your hand nervously gripped the edge of the couch, but Joel noticed and took it in his. He was sitting right next to you, and now he kissed your hand and stared at the screen.

"Okay." The doctor pressed a few switches and ran the probe over your skin. "We've got everything here... Give me a second. Oh, yes! Here it is."

He pointed to something small inside your uterus. "It's still tiny. This could be week five or six."

You started counting quickly in your head. It had to have happened before Shane's wedding. Maybe when you came back from one of the dances? Maybe when Ellie was staying over at a friend's and you and Joel finally had the house to yourselves? You looked at him and saw that the same thoughts were swirling in his head.

And then the doctor pressed something and you heard a strange sound. A steady, regular, clattering sound.

"The heart is beating strongly." Morris smiled "It should come in mid-winter, I think. Everything looks fine now."

It was only when you both left the clinic and the door closed behind you, only when the cold wind swept your face, that you felt that it was all real.

Joel placed a hesitant hand on the lower part of your back "How do you feel?" he asked.

"I have no idea, really." you replied "It's... It's overwhelming and it's so hard for me to believe it."

"Me too. I didn't think I'd ever face something like this again, but with you... With you I could do it."

You looked at him, you knew that it must have been hard for Joel too. Neither of you planned this, you didn't even talk about it.

"Do you want this baby?" you asked quietly.

He was silent for a moment, but finally those brown eyes that you loved so much looked at you and you knew. "I would like to have everything with you. No matter what you decide, I will always be by your side, baby. We will handle it."

"I know..." you smiled slightly and reached for his hand.

For the first time, he touched your belly with the thought that your child was inside. Safe and sound, not knowing how scared his parents were. But Joel felt it, he felt that warm feeling again that slowly filled his heart and gave him hope.

He could have everything again. With you.

"I'm so fucking scared." you whispered.

"Yeah, baby. Me too."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #short stories from life #short stories from life series

659 notes · View notes

specsthesecond · 6 months ago

Text

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick, fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside, advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orc's house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do now.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots, grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton-tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter.

Come afternoon, you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew and his flask tightly inside, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even, and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before, why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it not thick enough? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered when you realise he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an orc and plops another spoonful onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow, but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it. He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while, you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section, and you point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks, which seem a darker green than before.

After that, you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing, you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees, you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

<- Previous

Next ->

#Reader slowly finds out what love is. Hope that won't backfire or anything.#orc x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #terato #orc romance #orc x human #❆orc woodsman

943 notes · View notes

adore-laur · 4 months ago

Note

hiii lovely i don’t know if you take requests but if you do please can we have an angsty piece for dadrry, like i know we had the christmas fight but like maybe h says something super mean to yn during an argument or he’s been super busy with work and he ends up being neglectful and stuff, and like i wanna see the groveling!!! it’s just a request if you don’t do angst i get it, but i would really love to see it !! no pressure tho xx

NEED YOU NOW

——

The time was 7:55 p.m., nearly three hours past when Harry had promised to be home. The plate of food you had made him sat cold on the countertop. It’d been his to make, but when you heard that he was staying late at the restaurant, you threw a quick meal together that was subpar even by your standards.

Truthfully, you were livid. Harry's paid paternity leave expired a week ago, and he was already breaking promises. I will always be home for dinner, he had vowed when you began to dread the day he put his white chef coat back on and left you to parent alone. Remarkably, he had upheld it thus far. You just didn't think he would let it collapse so soon.

You stewed over it in bed while trying—and failing—to put your four-month-old daughter down to sleep. It was the first time you had to do it by yourself, and to say it was shaping up to be a colossal catastrophe was an understatement. You didn't possess Harry's deep, soothing voice that was practically a lullaby of its own, nor did you possess his natural, rhythmic hip sway while rocking her to sleep. So, yes, there was a tiny kernel of resentment building pressure inside of you because of your shortcomings as a parent, and it could explode any second now. Because missing dinner was one thing, but missing the baby's bedtime? Outrageous.

Restless cries rattled around the room as her body squirmed in the bedside bassinet. The probability of you joining in on her meltdown was soaring higher as the sky darkened. Nothing you were doing was successful in calming her conniption—not nursing, ocean air, white noise, or even her trusty pacifier could settle those high-pitched wails that simultaneously broke your heart and frazzled your nervous system beyond its regular state. You were determined to remedy the situation as a perfectly capable mother, but in your heart of hearts, you knew that sometimes you weren't the needed parent. Tonight, Harry was the desired nurturer. And he wasn't here.

With clammy palms, you surrendered your pride and unlocked your phone to call Harry. The last text he had sent was at 4:37. It read: I won't be home until late tonight. Don't know what time. I'm sorry. Out of frustration, you had left him with no response.

The ringing tone droned, and you held no hope that he'd answer. Realistically, there was no open opportunity to take a phone call in a fast-paced restaurant kitchen. The cogs needed to be moving at all times—otherwise, the wheel would splinter. You had accepted it years ago.

When you first started dating Harry, it had been strenuous finding time for each other. On a lucky day, you'd talk to him during his lunch break. Weekends bestowed the moments that made the relationship flourish. It should have gotten more manageable after many years, but as a new mother, it wasn't something you could handle like a champ anymore.

Therein lay the problem: You had become too comfortable with having Harry home for twelve weeks. Calibrating to the changes that parenthood presented was much easier with a dedicated husband ready to face them with you. It had been a luxury to be a team from sunrise to sunset and every nocturnal hour that you both spent devoid of energy. Your steadfast lover, now far away from you.

"Hello?"

You jolted, surprised to hear Harry's voice. It caused relief and rage to clash within you—not a pleasurable combination. "How much longer are you working?"

His sigh was smothered by scattered voices speaking in the background and kitchenware clanging noisily. "I don't know. We're finishing the dinner rush, and there's still loads of cleaning to do. Trust me, I've been trying to make an exit for the past two hours, but the orders keep coming."

"I need you here, Harry," you said shakily. "I can't do this by myself."

"Do what by yourself? What's going on?"

Rage won the internal battle and staked its claim over your sensibility. "Seriously? I have a baby that won't stop crying, a husband that has been missing in action for the past three hours, and I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"You never texted me back," Harry said, sounding like his focus was split half on the conversation and half on whatever task he was doing. "Have you tried walking her around outside? Maybe some fresh air will help."

You stood and started pacing around the room. "I tried that. I need your help. She wants nothing to do with me."

"Honey, I... I can't right now. I have to be here."

"Please," you begged, panic crawling up your throat. Could he even hear the baby crying on your end? How could he possibly understand your crisis through a muddled phone call? "I'm telling you I need you now."

"And I'm telling you I have a kitchen to run," he replied firmly. His tone softened when he added, "If I could leave right now, I would. It's just not viable when it's been this busy."

You stayed silent, chewing on his weak explanation. All your pent-up exasperation was simmering and had nowhere to go, so you infused your next words with it. "You're being neglectful."

"What?" Harry said. You could picture him with that cute little divot between his eyebrows, except the reasoning behind it wasn't so cute this time. "Wait, hold on, hold on. Say that again? Shit, I can't focus." A loud clattering of metal punctuated his rambling.

There was no fight left in you. Numbly, you walked over to the bay window and watched the ocean tide swell under the moon. "Never mind. Go finish what's clearly more important."

"Listen, it's hard to hear you in here. Can I call you back in... um, I don't know, fifteen minutes?" He didn't seem angry and didn't sense the urgency you were conveying. He just seemed distracted, and it felt like a bruising kick while you were already down.

"Bye, Harry." You hung up, not regretting your stubbornness. His communication during the day had been meager. He should have known to keep you in the loop after three hours of waiting for him to come home. You had hung on by a thread and wondered if this would become the norm. You thought he was done with his old tendencies of being a yes-man.

What mattered to you the most was that Harry knew when to put family first, and tonight, you and your daughter were put on the back burner.

With two tears slipping down your cheeks, you succumbed to the feeling of utter helplessness.

——

Harry unlocked the front door, trying to recall the last time he had come home at nine-thirty at night. Surely months ago, when you were heavily pregnant and couldn't sleep. He used to take you for slow drives around the neighborhood and play with your hair in hopes of lulling you into a deep slumber. Worked like a charm every time.

God, he knew you were pissed at him. He was in the doghouse for good reason. Usually, you'd greet him at the door, happy to see him. Now, the quiet bounced off the walls uncannily.

He had barely been able to concentrate on anything while in the thick of dinner service. Too many stressors flew around the kitchen like bullets. It had been the absolute worst moment to respond to your panicked phone call. Why had he said yes to staying late? The agreement was to work from seven to five, Tuesday through Friday. He failed you today, and it killed him.

Ever since the baby was born, Harry had turned into a homebody. He loved seeing every room hold signs of his little girl. Milk bottles in the refrigerator; tiny onesies in the washer; storybooks on the nursery's rocking chair; the tummy time mat on the living room carpet; the foldable bathtub in the kitchen sink (he planned to research if adults could use baby shampoo since the smell was irresistible). He had gotten so attached to the routine that it came as no surprise: his first week back at work had been hell. He had messed up several times, struggling to get back in the groove. His hands moved slower, his mind on overload as he played catch-up with the twelve weeks he missed. Everything there felt foreign, and it sparked a realization that nothing came as close to feeling natural as being a dad did.

Harry shook his head to clear the tornado whirling around his brain and turned on the kitchen light. He immediately spotted his plate of dinner waiting for him, a depressing reminder of his broken vow.

An awful feeling sank like a stone in his stomach. This was all wrong. It was supposed to go like this: Harry, ravenous and in dire need of affection, would arrive home at five, the sun still shining. He would kiss you in the foyer as you passed over his daughter. She would coo happily, the weight of her in his arms a precious comfort. He'd then carry her and entertain her with silly voices and other theatrical dad antics before getting started on cooking dinner. Then the night would slowly progress, and as everyone's eyes grew heavy with sleep, he'd wait until you were done nursing before burping a full-bellied baby and setting her in the bassinet.

And who was to blame for blowing that beautiful sequence to smithereens? This guy.

When Harry reached the hallway, he shivered. Was the window open? There was a chilly draft floating around, and when he peeked his head past the bedroom doorway, his assumptions were proven correct. There you were on the cushioned windowsill seat, the glittering moonlight illuminating your sleeping frame as you held his baby girl against your chest. She was asleep as well, with her limbs tucked all cozily in your motherly embrace. Harry just stood and watched for a minute, the day's stress cascading off his shoulders. Home. This was what remained the most paramount part of his life. He needed to apologize before you formed a grudge.

He didn't want to wake you or the baby, especially considering the overwhelming night you had helmed, so he hopped in the shower to contemplate the best way to handle... whatever had occurred over the phone. Harry knew that the postpartum phase was treating you roughly—your anxiety was a tight rubber band ready to snap at any moment. He hadn't fully grasped the reality of you doing the bedtime routine alone. How hard it probably had been with a baby experiencing major sleep regression. He'd thought your using the word neglectful was harsh, but it was fair.

With a cleansed body and mind, Harry exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. The breeze blowing in from the open window was too brisk for his liking, so he walked over and reached past you to close it. It squeaked, and he winced when you stirred awake. He stalled his movements as you came into consciousness, slowly and with weariness.

How motherhood looked on you was a thing of beauty. Even in the most ordinary moments, you were radiant, emanating warmth and solace. You were this family's guiding light.

Eventually, you swung your legs over the edge of the windowsill seat and stared at him blankly. Guilt struck Harry speechless, and all he could do was sink to his knees and press his face into your shin, like Stephan Sinding's Adoration. "Please forgive me, baby," he murmured, kissing your almond-scented skin. "I'm so sorry. There's no excuse."

When you remained silent, Harry lifted his face and looked at you. The sight of your expression crumpling and tears welling in your eyes shattered his heart. He got up to sit beside you, pulling you and your daughter into a remorseful hug. "I've made you cry. I'm awful, aren't I?"

You sniffled. "No, you're not. I just don't understand."

"Can I try to explain?" he asked.

You nodded and let your head fall limply on his shoulder. Harry was grateful you weren't shunning him. After pressing a soft kiss to your temple, he said, "You needed me tonight, and I fell short as your husband and as her father." He stroked his baby girl's back, his palm nearly covering the entirety of it. "It was an unexpectedly chaotic day at work, and I... I don't know, it's like I forgot how to hold the reins. All my skill retention just vanished. It was bizarre, and I'm sure it has to do with being sleep-deprived, but it shouldn't have pushed me to stay late. I should've put our family first, and I'm sorry you felt neglected. That wounds me to hear that." He grabbed your hand and held it against his heart, leaning down to kiss your knuckles tenderly. "So, from now on, I will be home for dinner. I will be here for bedtime. I will be here when you need me, for whatever reason. Because when you hurt, I hurt. And I don't ever want to make you feel like that again. Don't want you to doubt starting a family with me."

You were crying against his neck, and Harry couldn't tell if it was a good or bad sign. Every word he had said was honest. Poured straight from his soul. It was a vow to be better and to learn from his mistakes. The adjustment from a blissful four months experiencing fatherhood at home to transitioning right into a forty-hour workweek had been messy, and it still would be in the weeks to come, so he hoped you understood that he was trying. It would all balance out soon enough. It just took time.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," Harry whispered to you. His daughter was making whiny noises now, so he carefully took her from your arms and cuddled her close. It felt like his vital purpose.

Meanwhile, you inhaled a few deep breaths to collect yourself. Your hand gripped the towel around his waist, and you gasped before saying, "This whole time, I thought you were naked."

He laughed, thankful for the brief levity. "I think you're still dreaming, sleepyhead." A small smile lifted your lips, and he had no choice but to kiss them. He'd been gone for far too long today.

"I forgive you," you said quietly. "I trust that you won't let this become a habit. I think there were heightened emotions from both of us, for valid reasons, and I found it hard to communicate exactly what I needed."

"You needed me," Harry replied, feeling guilt creep its way back into his mind.

"I know, but I can't always expect you to drop everything when you're needed elsewhere. That's not fair."

He nodded. "Still, you're my partner. It's my responsibility to make you feel adored, and since I blundered that today, how about if I take all the night shift duties this weekend?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, relief softening your facial features. "That would make me feel very adored."

"Yeah?" He kissed your forehead. "And since tomorrow's Saturday, I think I'll treat you to breakfast in bed."

You hummed, pleased as punch. "Tell me more."

"We'll sit on the porch swing and drink coffee," he continued, the domestic visualization sending a rush of heat through him. "Watch the sunrise and listen to the mourning doves."

"No, I meant tell me more about treating me to things in bed."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Harry said with an amused laugh. "Are we talking about innocent bed activities, or...?"

You were in a reverie, no doubt thinking of not-so-innocent activities. "Remember our wedding night when we tried using that—" A sudden and sharp wail sliced through your sentence, and in Harry's mind, he caught a brief flash of the memory: you, perched seductively on the living room sofa in the newly purchased beach house, more breathtaking than the ocean view in the distance. Harry, unable to believe he had found you and got to treasure your love for life. And yeah... he couldn't possibly forget that ridiculous toy he'd been gifted with at his bachelor party. Moving on.

"Let's all get some sleep so we can act alive tomorrow," Harry said. When he stood to start rocking the baby, the loosened towel dropped to the floor, leaving him stark naked in the moonlight. You giggled, and the sound was like a shot of bliss straight into his veins. He laughed too, drowsiness finally hitting him. It would be a long night ahead, and although he would likely rack up a measly four hours of sleep, knowing he’ll wake up beside you and have only dad-related obligations for the next three days made it sound peachy.

For the first time that day, a sense of calmness washed over him. Home, sweet home.

——

#harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #dadrry #dad!harry #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles #adore-laur

589 notes · View notes

dazed--xx · 2 months ago

Text

"Okay...."

Member: Jeongin x Reader

Word count:

Genre: Angst

T/W: Yelling, arguments, break up, giving up on someone

A/N:

"Jesus for once can you just fucking listen to me? I asked you to pick up my cousin and that she's not from here so she doesn't speak the language. She called my mom fucking crying, Y/N. You promised me, Y/N! I don't think I can do this anymore" Jeongin growls frustratedly. Y/N sighed as he continued, her patience running thin as he continued to ramble and not allow her to speak.

"Maybe we should break up......I can't be with someone I can't rely on"

She stared at him for a moment, taken aback and wide-eyed. Her heart sunk into her stomach. What? she questioned to herself, yet amid her sullenness; she felt rage boiling in the pit of her stomach.

How dare he?

Without hearing her out, just breaking up with her?

Who does he think he is?

Quelling her anger, she stares at him blankly as she lifts herself from the couch "Okay..." she states monotonously as she makes her way into their shared room. Jeongin's eyes widen as he realizes her back is now turned to him. Those two simple syllables sent a sharp stabbing pain through his heart. "O-okay?" He stammers as he follows behind her "Okay? Y/N...what?" His voice trembles as all his previous anger dissipates. He feels his world stop as he finds her pulling a suitcase out from under the bed. His legs move before his brain can comprehend his actions and his arms wrap around her waist in desperation. "S-stop....what are you doing? Where are you going?" He questions under bated breath.

It sits quiet for longer than Jeongin would like. His heart was pounding in his ears as she just stood there quiet and unmoving. Y/N soon released his grip on her waist as she walked toward the in-suite bathroom to grab her toiletries. Biting her cheek so she'd refrain from responding to his faux ignorance. Wanting him to stew in the consequences of his actions. "Y/N? Please just talk to me...I don't understand what's going on, why are you being like this?" He asks as his voice cracks.

She couldn't hold back her amusement as a snort flexed through her nostrils while she placed her items in a travel bag. "Is something funny?" Jeongin growls.

"Yup. I'm just giving you what you asked for. You can't be with me if you can't rely on me. Those were your words, not mine and I can't be with someone who gives up on the person they supposedly love over such a trivial matter without even asking nor listening to my side" She retorts with a fire in her eyes.

He breathes out a calming sigh "N-No....this isn't what I meant to do, I was just mad......I shouldn't have said any of that; I'm sorry." Y/N ignores him and continues grabbing her things and stuffing them into her suitcase as if Jeongin wasn't there. He was confused. Why was she still packing? Why wasn't she listening to him and asking how they could fix things like she always did? He wondered. "B-Baby, come on...let's just talk about this" He yearns. Y/N shakes her head in response and continues to pack her things. Her heart feels heavy, yet this weight feels lifted off of her. Hastily, she finishes shoving the rest of her stuff into her suitcase and zips it up.

Lifting the suitcase off the bed, she holds herself better than she ever thought she would in this situation. She doesn't understand how someone that gave her butterflies this morning, could cause next to no emotion when she looked at him only a few short hours later. "P-Please, let's just take a breather and figure this out..." He begs as she makes her way out of the bedroom, dragging his heart behind her. Tears cascade down his cheeks as he drops to his knees "Y/N, please I-I'm begging you. Just talk to me abo--" His words are cut off by the sound of the door closing softly behind Y/N.

He stares blankly at the door hoping, no, praying you'd come back. But as the seconds, then minutes, and hours passed; He knew...He knew you would never come back.

Taglist: @taevhs @yangbbokari @lovesunshinefelix @threeopossumsinacoat @isabellah29 @hope-maine @minhwa @tr-mha-fan @whoa-jo @kibs-and-bits @your-favorite-pirate @summercoldstuff @bx-lov3 @multi-fandommaniac @yunho-leeknow @ka0ila @seungminsteddybear @jaquisos @nchhuhi @havenwithleeknow @galaxy4489 @hannahhhhs-things @captainchrisstan @skzfairyyydreamz @kyrennetwork

#skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #skz fake texts #jeongin angst #skz in angst #skz jeongin angst #jeongin break up

343 notes · View notes

messenger-of-babel · 5 months ago

Text

If I Could Turn Back Time

Summary: Dick wishes he could turn back time, anything to win you back. (Dick Grayson x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I'm baaacck~! I'm gonna filter out some posts for y'all in between work and prepping for a Christmas countdown. I hope that y'all in the northern hemisphere are enjoying the winter months, and that the heat is manageable for the rest of us in the southern. Hope I didn't make anyone wait too long, and thank you for being patient!

~RiRi <33

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dick Grayson swore that he wasn't as big of a romantic as people made him out to be. After your breakup he had returned to the manor, unwilling to commit to the long drive back to Bludhaven. He milled around the kitchen, face sullen, telling a concerned Alfred he was just too tired to make the trip and didn't want to drive in the dark. He didn't tell him that he was worried that the image of you crying at the kitchen sink would distract him so badly that he'd either crash or turn back to see you.

He defended himself when Jason came by to drop something off for Bruce and catching the eldest in a state of disarray and blatant bedhead, shambling around in the living room. The younger man rolled his eyes and scoffed, striding past him.

"She break up with you?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I broke up with her." He said softly. "But I'm fine." he waved off, taking another sip of his coffee.

"You're an idiot." Jason sighed, kissing his teeth and shaking his head as he strode past in heavy footfalls.

He swore that he was able to move on. That it had been for your best interest. It had only been fourteen days, six hours and twenty-three minutes since he'd driven away. Now he was banging his head against the steering wheel, stuck in the late afternoon traffic between Bludhaven and Gotham. He had the persistent itch under his skin to pull out the suit, weave his way through traffic on his bike just so he could get back to you faster. But he knew that was an abuse of his identity, and could raise some pretty heavy eyebrows from Bruce and even Clark if they found out he took the suit just for a house call.

So, he sat there, stewing in his own thoughts. The late sunset flickered off the water and into the interior of his car. His bangs fluttered with a heavy exhale; hands sweaty as they tapped a mindless rhythm on the wheel. He wished he had a clock that wasn't just the digital numbers of the car display. A clock where he could turn back time.

He'd turn it back to your first date, where you both spent hours wandering the park in Gotham. You had dressed up nicely for a picnic, and it was like you had just walked out of the greenery. The only thought that Dick had while watching you that afternoon was how stunning you looked, so natural in the park with a beaming smile. He had seen Poison Ivy in all of her glory, and her deep connection with the green. If he didn't know better, he would have thought you were born of nature the same way, the way you seemed so in tune with the scenery.

You had surprised him by adjusting your clothes with a cheeky grin and racing hand and hand with him through the park, weaving in and out of the trees with a beaming smile. He had to catch his breath from the way you stole it from under him, taking him to what you had dubbed your 'favourite tree'.

"Why is this one your favourite?" he had asked, hands on his hips and eyebrows quirked. You cast him a glance over your shoulder, looking at him like it should be obvious. Fingers deftly pried your feet from your shoes and you tossed them aside, walking in front of him. "Because it's the best for climbing, of course." you chided, like he was silly for even asking. Swiftly, you proceeded to hoist your way into the low hanging branches, graceful as you traced a path you clearly knew. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, heart warming oddly. As if he was no longer in control, he reached down to undo his own shoes, hands running along the rough bark before pulling himself up after you.

Being a vigilante and circus performer, the movements themselves were easy enough, but despite all of his training he didn't even move with a fraction of your ease. When he caught up you were already nestled in a nook, leaning against a thick branch. You looked at him, late sunset beginning to flicker across the angle of your face. The golden light made your eyes glow, and you wore a soft, lazy smile, like a cat lounging on a bough. "Made it, I see." you hummed playfully, and he huffed.

"Was I not supposed to?" he quipped back, pulling himself up so he could sit next to you. You just shake your head, eyes closing with a gentle smile. "Not 'not supposed to', you've just been the first to follow. Normally my dates either just wait at the bottom or leave. No one really tries to come up, and the ones that do usually struggle to make it this far."

Dick shrugged, heart fluttering as he pushes his hair back with a hand. "Well, I'm used to this kind of the thing."

You give him a sceptical glance and he laughs. "The circus." He explains.

You grin. "Explains the runaway vibe."

"Hey!" he protests, hand to his heart. "I was raised there, thank you very much."

He spent so long up there he didn't realise you had been talking at the top of the tree for hours until the sunset began to filter into dusk, lost in the view of Gotham city park and its skyline.

Well, you might have been. He was too busy watching the way your mouth moved when you spoke or what actions your hands made when you spoke.

The second place that he would turn back time is the day he left you.

He'd take back every emotional scar he lashed you with, every word that cut into the soft flesh of your heart. He'd go back in an instant to pick up the pieces of you that he shattered, stop them from falling into the sink alongside your tears. He wouldn't have left the moment that your broken voice had asked him to leave, to give you space. He'd trade anything to have you in his arms again, to shush you and mumble his apologies into your hair.

The same apologies he was rehearsing to himself as he inched forward in the traffic for two painstaking hours. He practiced the cadence of his sentences by tapping them into his leg as he jogged up the stairs to your apartment. He steeled himself for a slap, a hiss, a scathing remark that would likely greet him when, no, if, you opened the door to him. He'd bear anything you threw at him, as long as he didn't have to see you cry. When you didn't respond to his knuckles rapping against the door, he sucked his teeth. Maybe you were out? Maybe you were ignoring him? He wouldn't blame you if you did.

Frustrated, he kicked the door frame, head thudding onto the door. He didn't know how to keep a relationship alive, if he was being perfectly honest. He had been enamoured with Kory, but the flame they had fizzled out. He and Babs had ended as natural as you could manage between coworkers. Yet, both of them had both ended the same way deep down. The anger that he failed to let go of deep inside that came out when he truly let himself be vulnerable. The little boy in his heart with his little fists clenched so tightly onto that ball of rage. The anger and hurt of losing his parents. It was a ball that Bruce and Alfred had managed to lessen, managed to pry those young fingers off little by little and helping him to redirect it, but it was never fully gone.

All it took was one relationship argument that carried on for a little too long or burned a little too hot, and that little ball moved into his throat. The fear would shake in his hands again, that there was always the possibility that he'd lose them too. Dick Grayson wouldn't really call himself a romantic. He was just someone who always fell in love, who made the person he was with always fall into him without a safety net.

Then, he'd push them off that tightrope, and he'd flee.

Irritated with himself he practiced breathing techniques to calm himself, unclenching his fists and unhunching his shoulders from his ears. He wanted to fix this. For you. For him. For that little boy holding onto that little ball of hurt. He waited another fifteen minutes before he jogged back to his car. He worried his lip in between his teeth as he cruised around, leg bouncing as he visited your favourite spots. You weren't at work, and you weren't visiting the library either. Your favourite bar wasn't open yet, and your favourite cafe had already closed for the day.

He felt stupid. He felt guilty. Stupid for leaving, and guilty for chasing you so pitifully. His behaviour was getting borderline obsessive, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't get the chance to even talk to you again. With an angry sigh he threw the car into park, breaking loudly. He slammed the car door a little harder than he would have liked.

Gotham City Park.

A part of him hoped that you weren't here, honestly. It was dark, and everyone knew Gotham was worse after hours. You were alone, presumably unarmed, and a complete fool if you were. His feet traced the path that he knew so well, but it felt weird without having your weight looped around his arm. Hands shoved deep into pockets he fiddled with the lining, chewing his cheek till he got to your tree.

The massive boughs stretched before him, blocking most of the city light. However, he knew that as soon as he got up there, he'd be able to see almost everything. With a pained exhale Dick ran his fingers over the smooth bark before reaching up for the nearest branch and hoisting himself up. Even if you weren't here, he needed somewhere to gather his thoughts. Somewhere to figure out how to fix his fuck up.

He navigated clumsily upwards, the dark making it hard to see. He hadn't realised how naturally his body followed yours when you climbed up, now getting lost by himself. Branches smacked him in the face as he ascended, dense foliage hiding his next foothold from him. Eventually his head poked through the entrance, and he took a deep lungful of crisp air, eyes closing.

"You looked like an idiot climbing around in circles down there, you know."

His eyes fly open, heart catching as he sees you. You're still in your work uniform, knees to your chest. Your eyes are dull despite the starlight. Dick revered your eyes, telling you many times that you could make even a stone glimmer if you gave it a fraction of your light. Now they were like a dying bulb, burnt out and dim.

"Hey," he said softly, as if you'd disappear if he raised his voice any louder. "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me." You say, shifting your eyes from him to the city. "What do you want?"

His throat closed up, burning. He could feel that bright little ball being shoved into his throat, and he had to grimace to push it back down.

He needed to do this.

"I'm here to apologise." he said quietly, pulling himself up and sitting a respectable distance from you. His fingers suddenly became interesting as he toyed with them, picking at the skin. "I don't expect you to take me back or anything, but I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." he chokes out, looking up at you. "I was- I was scared. I was scared someone was going to take you away from me, that it wasn't worth it. But I was wrong. I'm sorry-" he swallowed harshly as your eyes met his, and the softening at the corners of yours made him want to fold. "I'm sorry for everything I said, for everything I did. You didn’t deserve that; you deserve something better."

"Dick-"

he held up his hand. "You deserve the world, sweetheart." he said, choked at the softness and pain in his own voice. "If I was Superman, I would fly to your window every morning and take you into the clouds just so you could experience what it's like for a heart to fly, like you make mine do. I'd go across the ends of the earth to find the sun after the sunset just to realise it can't be brighter than the smile that you give me in the morning. So, I came to tell you that I made a mistake." he says, quiet and unable to hold your gaze any longer. "I made the biggest mistake of my life. I want another chance." he takes a deep breath, nose burning as he tried to hold back his tears. "And if you don't want me back, I want you to know you deserve all that. Even if it's not me, never settle for anyone that will give you less than that." His voice cracked as he finished, and he swallowed.

He needed to leave. He had done his piece.

The shame swirled in his veins like a cloud and hurrying him to find his way down. His senses were dulled like he was struck with a concussion, thoughts echoing like they were in a tunnel. It was only when he felt the soft skin of your palm on his that his head snapped up. The moment his face was tilted up the light was blocked, and his face was warm.

It took him a good second to recognise the familiar feeling.

You were kissing him.

With a relieved sigh he let out a sigh straight from his chest, chasing after your touch desperately. He thought he may have been in a dream, but when he reached up to cradle your face with a palm, he knew that it wasn't true.

"You idiot." you breathe out, eyes fluttering as you part from the kiss. "You grade A, boy wonder, spandex clad idiot." your rest your forehead against his. "Tell me next time." your murmur, hand coming down to grip his and place it on your chest. “You’re not alone anymore, you know?"

A faint flicker of a smile danced its way across his lips, and his shoulders shook lightly as he laughed at himself. He leant up and brushed his lips against yours once more and finally, that little ball of rage fell through the fingers of that hurt young boy.

615 notes · View notes

chuellas · 2 months ago

Text

Initiation | I is for Intimacy

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, physical and emotional intimacy, oral (Reader rec), fingering, unprotected sex, WC: 2.2k

A/N | This one is a lot tamer than the rest and once again I got wayyyyy too carried away but can you blame me? My baby deserves the world 😔

His hands tremble slightly as you both reach your apartment building’s entrance. The two of you have been dating for about 3 months now and Chuuya has held off on being physically intimate with you up until now. But he could tell your patience has been waning and tonight was your tipping point. You’ve been hinting to him all night that you want him to follow you up to your apartment. The extra touches that linger just a little longer than usual, the longing gaze at any part of him you find attractive, which apparently is every inch of him.

You fiddle with your fingers and keys, watching them before steeling yourself and inviting him. “Y’know, it’s still pretty early…Why don’t you come up? We could have a cup of tea or a glass of wine and watch a movie?”

Your eyes are filled with so much hope, how is Chuuya supposed to say no to that?

He doesn’t of course, as a matter of fact he’s quick to accept your offer and follows you anxiously to your apartment. The Port Mafia executive couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. He’s slept with plenty of people before this. He’d even goes as far as to say he’s skilled in this subject, never having left a partner dissatisfied.

So why are you different?

Realistically Chuuya knows why but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because if he does that then it means all of this is actually real. It would mean he cares for you far beyond anyone he’s cared for previously. So he’s avoided the subject with you altogether, letting himself stew in denial.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also incredibly excited. It’s depraved, the amount of times Chuuya has fucked his hand to the thought of you, playing the little voice memos you like to send him every once in a while when you’re at work and typing takes too long. He always comes at the sound of your fluttery giggle, the sound casting a spell over his body every time without fail.

He wonders briefly, what the real thing will do to him when he’s nestled inside of you.

The ginger can feel himself getting worked up just at the thought of it. He needs to calm himself down. The two of you just got to your apartment. You let him into your home and he’s immediately greeted by a small cat that can’t be more than 6 months old. He’s never been too keen on cat’s but the little ball of fur takes to him immediately and you let out an incredulous laugh.

“She usually hides when I have company, you must be really good with animals.” You crouch down and hold your finger out for the kitten to sniff, just as expected she does so and rubs herself against your hand, clearly recognizing you as her owner. “This is Rika. She may not look it, but this little girl is feisty. She started out as a foster but I fell in love with her and couldn’t fathom the thought of life without her anymore. Sorry, I should have asked if you were allergic before bringing you up…”

Chuuya smiles fondly at you and the small creature, crouching down and mimicking your actions to gain the kitten's trust. “Nah, don’t worry, Doll. I’m not allergic, just- Never been the biggest fan of these guys. She’s cute though, just like her owner.”

You let out a groan and fall onto your butt, knees still bent, to make yourself comfortable on the floor. Rika starts at the movement but once she realizes that it was just you, she continues to headbutt Chuuya and even starts to purr. His attention is still on you despite the little furballs attempts to get him to pet her.

“That was so cheesy.” You’re covering your face with your hands and peek through them to look at Rika, then back up at the ginger. “...but, I suppose, she’s quite fond of you…just like her owner.”

Chuuya lets out a chuckle of his own because, yeah, that definitely sounded awfully cheesy now that he heard you say it. Yet, it still calmed his previous nerves. The Port Mafia executive stands up and offers his hands for help. You take them with an appreciative smile and he hoists you up. He’s aware that he used far too much force than he needed to but it’s entirely on purpose. You stumble into him and he’s ready to steady you, grip firmly set on your hips to hold you against him.

His lids droop down to look at you through his lashes and the air in your apartment thickens. Your lips part, Chuuya thinks you were going to say something, but he doesn’t give you time as he dips his head down and steals a kiss from you. Then another.

And another.

He continues to kiss you until you both find yourselves stumbling almost blindly into your room. You toe the door shut and start ridding Chuuya of his clothes with trembling hands. You’re nervous too, somehow that makes the ginger just a little more confident and he aids you in taking off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head. He watches your reaction closely, the way your chest quickens with your breath, the way your pupils dilate in excitement, and most of all the way your face flushes in the prettiest way.

Chuuya is in trouble. Normally his interactions like this are only filled with desire and pleasure. Something only transactional or to itch a certain scratch. That’s it. But this is clearly different.

The ability user wants to take his time with you, wants you to feel good. He wants to touch and kiss every surface of your skin. Chuuya wants to mold your insides to only take him, to remember the shape of only his cock.

You're the most dangerous person Chuuya has ever encountered and you don’t even know it.

Chuuya makes good on his desires, slowly and carefully peeling your clothes away, making sure to kiss every bit of new skin being exposed. You aren’t as patient but you have no control over what he does right now. The ginger had a plan and you weren’t going to deter him from it.

When the executive gets you down to your underwear, he makes work of your bra first, expertly unclasping your bra with the snap of his fingers. You let out a pained whine, clearly enjoying just how easy it was for him to take off the usually tricky garment. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his now ungloved hands and kneading gently at the plush skin. His fingers run over your nipple and you let out a broken gasp.

A grin stretches at his lips, he can’t help it, pleased with the reactions he’s drawing out of you when he hasn’t even come close to touching you how he’d like to.

The ginger drags his hands down your abdomen at an agonizingly slow pace and you squirm impatiently in his hold. “Chuuya…Please, just- oh my god- just fuck me already.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Chuuya flips you around and has your back crashing into his chest and he dips his head to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Gotta be patient f’me, Doll. I gotta make sure you’re ready to take me. Can’t have you uncomfortable, now, can we?” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you let out another whine.

You’re walked to the edge of your bed before you’re being flipped back around and pushed onto it, your legs hanging off the end. Chuuya kneels and pushes your legs together so he can guide them to one side of his head to slip your underwear off with ease. The ginger pries your legs apart once more and settles your legs on each of his shoulders.

When you’re finally fully exposed, slick cunt practically drooling for Chuuya, he lets out a groan. He has a physical reaction to the sight of you, his cock jumping in his very tight pants. If you would let him, he thinks he would be content with drowning in your pretty glistening cunt.

You reach for the ginger’s hair and let out another whine. “Chuuya…”

“Fuck, Baby. You been hiding this pretty little thing from me this entire time? A damn shame I’ve let this go to waste till now.” He doesn’t let you respond, diving right in and helping himself to your taste.

With expert precision Chuuya finds your clit with one swipe of his tongue up your folds. He’s quick to attach himself to the sensitive bud and starts sucking on you and then releasing, creating a delicious rhythm with his mouth. You grip at his hair with trembling fingers. It’s cute, really, how worked up you’re getting. The executive has a sneaking feeling you’ve never had someone who actually knows what they’re doing eat you out like this before.

As if you could read his mind you gasp out, “How- shit- how are you s-so good at that? It feels s’good…”

The ginger knows better than to deem that with an actual response, so instead he brings a hand up to your entrance and coats his middle finger in your slick before inserting it and immediately pumping it in and out of you. It happens fast. You pant out his name and twist your body as you try to almost crawl away from the pleasure building up in your stomach. Chuuya doesn’t let you, of course. He makes sure to bring you flying off the edge. You cum without warning and the sounds of Chuuya drinking you up bounces off the walls.

You twitch from the oversensitivity and subconsciously push at Chuuya's head. He gets the hint and pulls away. His face is a mess, lips, cheeks and chin glistening with your juices. What's worse is he licks it all off like a parched man, not satiated until he’s licked all of it off.

Chuuya finally pulls down his pants and climbs over you, dragging you up all the way onto the bed. He takes another moment to admire your lucid state. Body sheen with a small layer of sweat, hair splayed around you in a halo, chest flushed and heaving from your pants. You’re more beautiful than he could ever have tried to imagine. Whatever Chuuya had previously pictured, was put to shame tenfold with you here finally bare right in front of him.

He gingerly strokes some hair stuck to your face out of the way and lets his finger linger, traveling down the outline of your face. “Think you have one more in you, Doll?”

Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask that question before. His usual partners are always selfish, having no problem asking for what they want. You on the other hand? You were far too soft, too kind to ever ask for more when this is your first time getting into bed with him.

Your eyes close momentarily and he watches your intently. Your eyelashes flutter as you lean into his hand that’s now cupping your face tenderly. When you open your eyes to look up at him through your lashes Chuuya swear he almost cums right then and there. How the hell is he supposed to survive the night with you when you look so stunning underneath him like this?

“Yeah. I want you, Chuuya.” You’re killing him—you really will be the death of him he swears, no dramatics, it’s simply factual.

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Okay, you got me, all of me.”

Chuuya leans closer into you and rests his forehead on yours before guiding his tip to your entrance. He swipes himself through your folds a few times, making sure he’s wet enough to slip into you easily before finally sinking into you. Your eyes screw shut and your arms fly to his back, desperately looking for something to slutch onto as he stretches you so deliciously. Your mouth drops open but no noise falls out.

Instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by how velvety and warm and inviting your walls are, Chuuya distracts himself by crashing his lips to your. You finally let out small whines and whimpers and while he’s running his tongue across your lips, asking for another entrance, you impatiently roll your hips. He lets out a surprised grunt but gets the hint and starts a slow but pointed pace.

Chuuya is used to having sex, he’s slept with countless people thanks to the nature of his job. It’s been seen as a skill for so long that he forgot that it could feel like this. This was something more than just a physical connection, it’s also emotional.

Chuuya thought he knew everything there was to know about sex, but he has a lot to learn about intimacy, and he doesn’t think he’d want to learn it from anyone else other than you.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #writings ʚ��ɞ

303 notes · View notes

luvyeni · 6 months ago

Text

( reaction ) you try and kill them ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ you snap and try and kill them ヾ

yandere!enhypen・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 more yandere for everyone <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

smirking when you held the gun in your shaking hand. “be careful you might shoot yourself.” he sat calmly in his chair. “don't patronize me.” you shouted , waving the gun. “whoa , im sorry.” he put his hand up with a smile. “why don't you put the gun down.” he said. “no, im leaving this place.” you said he nodded. “are you?” he was so unbothered — it pissed you off. “i don't think you are.” you were sick of all his tricks and mind games. you were finally over it , you pulled the trigger. click! that was it , the gun didn't go off. “did you seriously think i kept a fully loaded gun out in the open?” he was laughing at you. “are you dumb?” you felt like you were going crazy , you couldn't escape him , so you dropped to the ground. “please just kill me , please.” you begged unable to do it anymore ; you'd rather die than go through this any longer. “oh no im not gonna kill you.” he said, bending down to your level , the craziest smile on his face.

“where's the fun in that baby?”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

the only way you would be able to kill jay is through his food and even that was hard — because you didn't even cook your own food , so you had to sneak into the kitchen on the pretense of helping since you did sometimes do that because that's all you could do since he kept you locked in the house almost every day. while you were left alone by the cooks, you poured the cleaning solution into the stew — it was served to him by the staff , but he quickly found something wrong. “what's wrong?” you asked, trying not to sound nervous. “you.” he pointed to the maid , calling them over. “eat this.” you didn't want to kill anyone else. “h-huh?” jay looked at you with a blank stare. “eat it i said.” you broke down, he pushed the bowl to the floor , the glass shattering along with the stew. “clean it up and leave.” he stood up from the seat making his way to you. “jay please , im sorry.” he was pissed. “don't plead now.” he grabbed you by your hair. “ow please you're hurting me.” he dragged you to your room — the one where it locked outside. “good.” he threw you down onto the floor.

“try and poison my food , let's see how long you last without food.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

you leaving alone was like stabbing him in the chest , but if you left and he did kill himself you knew you'd never forgive yourself. so you knew you had to do it , you had to kill him. “yn?” jake stood in the corner of the kitchen. he was pinned there by you pressing the knife against his chest. “what are you doing?” his eyes teary , you wouldn't fall for it. “jake i can't live like this , and you won't let me go.” before you plunge the knife into his chest , he held the knife in his hand. “do it.” he said tears down his face. “kill me , please do it , i don't want to live without you.” he said , his hand were bleeding. “if you hate me this much that means i’ve failed to love you and i deserve it.” you stood there in shock , you didn't know what to do. “j-jake.”

“i deserve so please just kill me , please.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

you knew you were taking a chance trying to kill sunghoon; and you knew this was gonna be your only chance to kill him; because you'd either one die trying to or two be too scared to try again. you decided to try… that's where you fucked up at. taking the bat he often used ( on you and his other victims ) — swinging the bat , hitting him on the side of his head. you didn't even wait for him to hit the ground before you b-lined it to the door… that was your second fuck up, because had you waited even a second you would've realized he never got the ground. he stumbled but collected himself— picking up the same bat; your third and final fuck up, chasing after you. you were almost to the door, freedom on at your fingertip but it all came crashing down when you felt the bat hitting the back of your head and then it all went dark. when you woke up , he was standing over top of you , the side of his head still bleeding. “su-sunghoon , please.” his eyes were darker than ever. “please don't kill me , im sorry.” he scoffed. “im not gonna kill you.” he said but the way you said it — you wished he would.

“but im gonna make you fucking wish i did.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

you didn't want to hurt him; you didn't. but if you didn't do something he'd never let you go; or end up killing himself and you couldn't be left with a burden knowing he did that because of you. you didn't want him to be in pain as he died you couldn't believe you still had compassion for him , but you did. you decided killing him in his sleep was the way to go. waiting for him to fall asleep , moving as slow as you possibly could , undoing his arm and straddling his waist, the pillow in your hand as you covered his face , holding the pillow down. he began to thrash around , you held tightly as you heard the muffle of his cries; the saltiness from your tears on your tongue — you were crying. he took this as a chance, quickly flipping you over , he held you down tears streaming down his face. “why why why!” he shouted. “im sorry, im so sorry.” both of you sobbing, it was sick you felt so bad for what you did. “why did you do that yn?!” he shouted.

“i love you , i love you and you try and kill me , do you hate me that much ?!”

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

you needed to make sure he was dead, poisoning him? no he was way too smart for that. try to stab him? he long got rid of the knives. you had no option , the gun — the same gun he used to fuck with you. he'd keep one of those revolver guns and sometimes he'd put a bullet in it and told you to put it to his head , if it went off you were free , if not he'd put the gun to your head but he wouldn't pull the trigger because of course he would never hurt you , but the pure terror on your face amused him — much like now, when you grabbed the gun holding it to the back of his head. “if you wanted to play you could've just asked,” he said calmly. “sh-shut up.” you stuttered , he laugh. “you got one shot.” he said , just as you pulled the trigger… it didn't go off. “no!” you shouted , he grabbed the gun out of your hand. “no please!” you begged, he smiled at you crouching in the corner. “it's my turn.” he knew the gun wasn't loaded at all , he always took the bullet out. the gun was pointed at your head , with a laugh.

“let's play fair this time , it's only right if i get a turn.”

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

much like sunghoon; you'd only have one shot cause ni-ki would damn sure make sure you'd never do it again. you underestimated him though, thinking you could easily suffocate him in his sleep , thinking he'd be too inebriated to fight back. you were wrong and you soon figure that out when he easily overpowered you , flipping you over so that now he was on top. “stupid fucking girl.” he wrapped his fingers around your throat. “did you think this would work?” you couldn't breathe , your hands scratching at his hands trying to pull them off , you both were basically fighting at this point. he managed to get up , pulling you from the bed by your hair , dragging you , throwing you down to the floor , the crack of our wrist and your scream didn't phase him at all. “ni-niki please don't.” he picked up the bat.

“that wrist of yours is the least of your fucking problems.”

©LUVYENI

423 notes · View notes

amandacanwrite · 1 year ago

Text

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

#bg3 tav #bg3 tav and gale #gale headcanons #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 headcanons #bg3 romance

2K notes · View notes

dilf-luvr-4evr · 2 months ago

Text

Counting Down the Days to Being Yours 🕊️💍

for dearest @emerald-ranch <3 I sincerely hope this is according to what you imagined!! 👉🏼👈🏼 I’m sorry it took long! I wanted it to be perfect :( thank you for trusting me with your wonderful idea 🫶🏼🥺 this playlist was in heavy rotation during the writing process!! happy belated valentine’s 🥰

my first proper Arthur fic! (f!Reader, BIG FLUFF where everyone is alive 🤩🙏, possible inaccurate wedding rituals in 1899, church photo just for aesthetic, you can marry wherever you please :) (arthur photo by sealevils on pinterest!)

Arthur had not returned to camp for almost two weeks. It wasn’t anything new to you but usually, he’d at least let you know. Try as you might to shrug it off but you get plagued by the ugliest thoughts. God forbid! You always yelled out-loud before your imagination gets the chance to be spoken into existence.

The days had dragged on for so long that it made you self introspect. You didn’t really know why you should when he left you on very good terms. Very good terms.

Both of you made passionate, burning love the night before he left. And a little bit more upon waking up. You let him sleep in again as you attended to Miss Grimshaw, getting him a plate of stew on your way back. While waiting for him to wake, you even cleaned his guns. He said he loved you multiple times — a kiss accompanying every declaration — before getting on his horse. That is, after Miss Grimshaw had to separate y’all herself.

Impeccable timing and divine intervention; as if he knew you’d fetch him yourself if you had to wait any longer, Arthur finally came back home to you. A far cry from the last you saw him. But again, nothing new. You were just extremely relieved.

Frankly, he looked like shit. Handsome, still. But very dirty. Speckles of mud were all over his face but far more concerning, he was drenched in blood.

Adding to the list of questions you were about to ask, what you saw him untie from his Hungarian half-bred was a giant bison that’s been chopped up. Some of the people in camp that crowded around him cheered, knowing they’ll be fed good tonight.

Still, it was all so odd to you. There was no way it’d take him two weeks just to take down a bison. It would need much more than this bribing to stop you from questioning him as much as you’re glad he’s home.

Even stranger, Arthur was awfully quiet the whole time you helped him bathe by the lake. Not a single I miss you. Didn’t let you touch his grimy clothes though that’s never been a problem before.

“Arthur, are you sure you’re okay?” You asked for the thousandth time.

“I’m just fine darlin’, I promise,” he tightly smiled, still avoiding your eyes. Though this pained and scared you, you’d wait until he’s ready to open up.

He changed again when you shaved him and cut his hair; just as quiet but his eyes never wavered from your focused expression. Like he can’t believe he’s reunited with you, only looking away when you talked to him.

“Darlin’?” He’d ask.

“Yes?”

“N-nothin’,” he mumbled. This went on over and over in the silence of his tent, a contrast to the singing and eating outside. He refused to join them either despite being the star of the show.

After you were finished with cleaning him up, he held on to your hand and made you sit in front of him without a word. You blinked a couple of times yet remained seated on his cot.

“Arthur-”

“Darlin’,” he started again, clammy hands tightening their grip on yours.

“Yes?” You’d say again and again if he asked you to.

“I’m sorry. For scarin’ ya.” And he was instantly forgiven. Not that you could stay mad at him for long. You weren’t even sure you were mad at him in the first place.

“S’okay,” you smiled, your thumb brushing his hand. He smiled with you though it didn’t last very long.

“The bison’s a gift.”

“A gift? From who?”

“That ain’t what I meant,” he huffed. “I meant-” he shifted uncomfortably on the cot. “I meant.. my gift. To you.”

A snort left you before you could control it. “To me?” And why you would ask for a bison or when is beyond you.

“Just hear me out will ya?” He huffed again, cheeks all red. You just nodded, trying your best not to laugh.

With a deep breath, he continued.

“I love you,” he said softly before looking at your hands. He didn’t even let you say it back, just kept talking. “And I’ve been thinkin’.. When I was away..”

“I know I ain’t much of a hunter. And I’m even less of a man. Hell, I’m even worse with words,” he chuckled. “But darlin’..”

He exhaled loudly and you knew. It all made sense now. He’s about to propose to you.

Arthur’s eyes widened and his heart raced at the sight of you gasping and tearing up. He kept holding your hand, strangely finding comfort in what’s currently scaring him. And maybe that’s exactly why he wanted to marry you.

“If you’ll let me.. I’ll try. I- I’ll always keep you fed. And I’ll take us away from here. Far away, I swear. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. No more runnin’.”

You cried like you never cried before. The way his eyes twinkled when he said it even though you knew how much it scared him. The way he’s willing to chase down a dream to make you smile.

He was looking at you like a puppy, waiting for you to say something before, “shit-” he realized he forgot to pull out the ring.

Like a man possessed, he dropped to the ground, searching for the ring from his blood-stained clothes. Watching him clean it with his shirt made you laugh, pouring more tears out of your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he grinned all flustered, turning back to you.

There he was, already on one knee, a plain gold ring — a symbol of his hard labor you’ve witnessed all too well — humbly offered between his fingers.

Sure you’ve imagined it a couple of times before. How it would happen, if it ever would. You loved him too much to ask him to leave the gang; his family.

But unbeknownst to you, he hears your silent pleas. Sees how you stood by him.

He loved you too much to make you stay.

“Marry me darlin’. Let me give you a proper life. What do you say?”

In a swift breath, you answered, “yes.”

And you’d say it again and again if he asked you to.

“You quittin’ yet?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the voice as familiar as the back of your hand.

You could also tell who it was from that damn joke he’s been telling over and over from the second you said yes.

You sure? Ain’t thinkin’ of backin’ out? Y’know you still got time.

Be it a jest or a genuine query, you know deep in your heart that you’ve never been more sure of anything else in your life.

A scoff left your lips, followed by a roll of your eyes. Yet you smiled.

“You think I should?” you feigned curiosity. Silence. You turned your head to find Arthur leaning on the clothesline post, a contemplating look on his face. Among the fingers that grabbed his belt, the shiny golden ring gleamed in the daylight. “Well?”

A second passes and then, “Nah.. I ain’t lettin’ ya.” Said with that crooked smile of his.

“Then I’m beggin’ you to stop askin’ me!” you laughed, dropping the clothes you were washing in the bucket. Oh how he loved your laugh. He’ll keep asking the dumbest questions known to man if it meant hearing you laugh.

“Arthur, leave the poor girl alone, will ya?” Hosea called out by the horses.

“Just gimme a minute!” Arthur replied before returning his gaze to you. He noticed how Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen paid attention to his little interaction with you and that made him a little sheepish. Back to being a teenage boy whenever he’s around you.

“Where you headed?”

“I asked you a question first,” he crossed his arms. The stupid smirk won’t leave his face and neither won’t the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere ‘til you answer me.”

“What question?”

“Are you quittin’?”

“Well do you still wanna marry me or not?” You raised your brow. Blush creeped on his cheeks, making the girls giggle.

“More than anythin’ in the world, ma’am,” he said shyly, his hat now covering his face. You pushed down the twitching on your lips. God, the way he makes you feel.

“Then I ain’t quittin’ the wedding.”

“Good.” He’s lucky he’s got a handsome smile, the bastard. And that he’s got the most patient lady.

“Now where you headed?”

“Just.. Takin’ care of wedding stuff with Hosea,” he was rather mumbling at this point, shying away from the audience.

“‘Kay, be careful,” you chuckled, turning to your laundry again.

There was shuffling and before you know it, he was crouched down next to you.

“Not gonna give your husband a kiss goodbye?” He whispered as if the girls wouldn’t still try to pry. Well. Nine days until your husband. That made you smile a little too wide for your liking. And then kissed him anyway. Silly, stupid man.

Your silly, stupid man.

“Come back to me,” you softened, patting his cheek. His baby blues shone under the shade of his hat. But then again, they always do when they’re looking at you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured as he stood up, smiling so wide, he was almost chuckling from how smitten he was.

Now with the golden band snug on the end of your palm, you could say that you quite literally have him wrapped around your finger.

He tipped his hat, bid the other ladies farewell, and went on his way. He had very important matters to attend to.

There are many things Arthur is capable of. Wedding organizing is apparently not one of them.

Yes, he’s used to thinking on his feet. Despite the most complex situations, there’s always an answer to him.

Even if it means occasionally punching his way out.

But he can’t really punch the wedding caterer can he? Or the man who tailored his suit. Or anyone else in the wedding business for that matter.

Good news is he’s finally done. Got himself a priest to officiate the wedding and paid off the new house; a quaint little thing he figured you’d like. He hoped you’d like.

Dutch made him look for a place to wed to which Arthur obliged. Wouldn’t want to expose the current home and put the gang in danger.

So Heartland Overflow it is.

He remembered taking you there, wanting to show you this silver dapple pinto. You ended up falling asleep in the meadow as he scouted for it. He decided to sleep next to you till noon. One of his favorite days. The perfect balance between wind and warmth and you.

The place gave him another idea that went according to plan like dominoes lining up to his luck. He invited Albert Mason who he happened to meet during one of his wedding ventures. Almost got bitten by an alligator in the process but he’ll be damned if he won’t get to capture your smile on the big day.

This wedding ain’t half bad considering. Perfect in fact. More than he could ever expect and the entire time, he kept imagining your reaction to seeing it all unfold. Maybe he was good at wedding organizing after all.

Still. He felt like he’s made more decisions in the past few days than he’s ever made in his entire life.

Being the impatient man that he is, he rode back to camp with a scowl as opposed to Hosea who looked like he enjoyed himself too much. A view you have come to enjoy as of late.

“Someone’s happy,” you teased while you made your way to him. He got off his horse with a scoff, hand immediately snaking around your waist as both of you walked to your shared tent. You didn’t forget to smirk back at Hosea, a silent agreement to share whatever happened to Arthur today. For later.

“Don’t even start,” he grumbled, only stopping to kiss your temple. “Won’t bother if it ain’t for you.”

The statement made you smile. A mental note was made to treat him good tonight. “At least that’s the last of it. Ain’t it?”

“Yep,” the word stretched out mid sigh, a popping-like sound at the end of it. His hold on you tightened, emphasizing his relief as well as excitement to show you everything he’s schemed. The action automatically pulled you closer and you giggled, a melody that never failed to warm his heart. You could convince him that this was all worth it by that single sound alone.

“Found a dress yet?” He asked, mingled with a grunt as he sat on his cot. You leaned on his shoulder, staring into the distance whilst he took off his boots. The sun had just settled below the horizon, coloring the sky purple.

“No,” you exhaled. “I don’t know..”

“Hate to sound like Strauss but you only got three days darlin’.” That elicited a chuckle out of you. And though you’ve kept count, the fact that you’re actually marrying him still made you giddy.

“Startin’ to think you’re gettin’ cold feet.”

“I’m not,” you clicked your tongue, slapping his back and earning a laugh from him. It boggles you how much this running joke entertained him.

“Well for what it’s worth, I’d marry you in anythin’,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head. His arm had returned to rest by your waist. “In rags,” followed by a nuzzle of his nose against your chin. “Darlin, I’d marry you in nothin’.”

“Mister Morgan!” You blushed at the way he whispered it, slapping him again. He was cackling like a damn crow.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan?” He carried on, making you roll your eyes even when the giggle that left your lips betrayed you. Damn him.

“I’m serious Arthur! I can’t decide on what to wear,” you pouted.

“Alright, alright,” he nodded, chuckling the last of his amusement out as he wrapped both of his arms around you, chin perched cozily on your shoulder. “We can getcha a new dress if you’d like?”

“You know that’s out of the question. We can’t spend more than we already have.”

Arthur heaved a sigh, having to think again.

“Well-” He thought for a moment. “Wear the one I like.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Which one’s the one you like?”

“You know,” he said in this very obvious tone, looking up at you in disbelief. It was obvious from your lack of answer that you didn’t catch on.

Suddenly, he was picturing you in the dress in order to describe it to you. Oh how that white dress made you shine. How it hugged you in all the right places, showed him just enough of what he wanted to see..

It never ends well with you in that dress.

He scoffed, hiding how hot he was for you. His poor bride is fussing and here he was, constantly trying to jump your bones. It was funny because you could always tell from the way he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You know the damn dress, I ain’t gotta tell ya,” he reasoned, getting up from his cot to leave and ignoring your giggly complaints. “I got things to attend to.” Meaning adjusting his pants.

He’s had enough wedding related thinking anyway. Plus, how could you not know?

He sat in front of the mirror. The face he’s bored with looked a little different today, polished.

Just him all alone inside his tent possibly for the last time.

He’s getting married. How strange.

Sure he knows it, took two weeks to contemplate it. Maybe more. But it seems like everyday it keeps dawning on him.

He’s getting married.

The gang left him some time to himself for once, waiting outside with the faint buzzing of gnats and the swishing of Flat Iron Lake.

It’s been a while since he had to properly get ready for something. Used to be a habit of his when he realized he liked you. Until you took over for him. Not that you minded how he looked at all. Felt unreal for him to look back on those days.

There wasn’t a single benefit he got from cleaning up. He doesn’t see himself differently. But he took note of what you loved about him, made sure he looked good enough for you to like. His fingers adjusted the forget-me-nots in his jacket pocket that he picked this morning.

Oh, look at how they bring out the blue in your eyes! You had said when he gave you the same flowers some time ago. Something that stuck with him ever since.

He looked around his cleaned ‘home’. Though he’s never really stayed in the same place for very long, the walls of his tent along with his wagon had been constant. It never actually occurred to him that one day he won’t sleep here again.

Suppose when you first fell asleep in this very cot with him, he sort of knew. He just didn’t think he’d actually get it; a new life with you.

A smile tugged on his lips. Who knew a no-good outlaw like him could be this lucky? How far he’s come. That after everything, he’s actually getting something good.

He tried to not get all soft, turning to the mirror again. But upon seeing his face, he laughed.

“Lucky bastard, ain’t ya?”

And how right he was.

He didn’t realize how much of an understatement that was until the ceremony started and he finally saw you.

You didn’t end up wearing a new dress by any means. Just the one he requested which you decided to alter a bit. At least that’s what you think he requested. But goddamn.

It was like the second time he first saw you.

He was starting to regret his decision to not smoke at all this morning. It ain’t like you never kissed his cigarette-reeked mouth, right? His heart was beating so loud, he barely noticed how you were already stood in front of him. In that dress no less, the sun above you just right. Your eyes looked at no one but him, that very smile to accompany the rest of his days.

The girl of his dreams.

The girl of his dreams who’s suddenly whisper-shouting “Arthur!”

“-can you repeat these vows?” The priest said. Which Arthur realized he had been tuning out.

“Y-yes,” he answered with a clear of his throat, trying not to get distracted by another one of your smiles.

It went smoothly. You actually said I do and kissed him and didn’t run away. Albert took the pictures and everyone liked the food and especially the drinks and Arthur made it till the end without a single cigarette after all. Although he did indulge in some drinking.

Javier was strumming a slow song. The day came and almost went with some still dancing alongside you and your husband.

He had one hand holding your own whilst the other one held on to the small of your back. You laid your head near his heart, partly from exhaustion, mostly from content. The two of you swayed with the gentle breeze that grew with time.

“You regret marryin’ me don’t you? That why you were cryin’?” He joked yet again, recalling to how you cried during your vows.

“I am regretting it now,” you shot him a glare before leaning on him again. You can feel the warm rumbling of his laugh from his chest and it made you smile.

“Did you like the kiss?”

“Of course,” you nodded against him. “I like this too,” with a touch to the flowers in his pocket. “And oh this place.. It’s perfect, Arthur.” And it really was. A wedding straight out of a book and it was yours.

Now he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop smiling. He breathed a sigh of relief so big, it almost lifted your head off his chest. There was no telling who squeezed whose hand first.

“Felt a little.. different though.”

Panic striked through him. So sudden, that he had to pause dancing. “Meanin’?”

“The kiss. You didn’t taste like cigarettes. Not that I mind,” you looked up at him, this lovesick gaze in your eyes. Despite how soft it all was, it was like a slap to his face. This perfect woman is his wife.

“Darlin’..”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even know what he was going to say. He kept looking at you as if checking if this was all real. Being a little drunk did not help. Neither did your distracting lips.

“Do you still like the kiss?” Was what he managed to say.

You laughed and pulled your husband into the millionth kiss that night.

Your husband who now smelled like alcohol instead. Who’s been asking you the same question all night since he drank.

If only you could convince him just how perfect this wedding was. Though not more than he is <3

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

#dividers by adornedwithlight #wanted to marry him so bad I got carried away with this lmao #IT’S 6AM…#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #rdr2 community #red dead fandom #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff

387 notes · View notes

htaesan · 10 days ago

Text

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ BEFORE YOU GO 　　────　ᅠ ( sim jake )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀time is running out. jake leaves for brunei at sunrise, and you still haven’t told him the truth: you’re in love with him. with memories pressing in and emotions running high, you only have this as your one final chance to speak—or live with the silence forever.

　　　ᅠ 심재윤⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 1.8k ⠀ genre fluff angst childhood friends brother's best friend ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship injury ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ 　　　ᅠ BEST ENJOYED WITH .. clueless by regina song!

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ hi @yuons this is for you! i hope this wasnt too angsty for you jun... and hey! debut jake fic >:) i havent finished the jay and taesan one that i promised to post saur that will come soon hopefully. anyways, enjoy ~

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

YOU play with the edges of the bandaid, hanging for its life onto your finger. You bite the bottom of your lip, and you stop yourself from doing it again—the cycle repeats itself for quite some time.

“You look like you’re about to vomit,” Jay’s voice rings in your ear, and it shatters your thoughts. You sharply eye him. He walks past you and into the kitchen, handing your mother the kimchi he’d cut up—originally, your mother had asked you to cut them for her, but after injuring your finger while mindlessly thinking about the future, she changed her mind.

“I’m not,” you hiss at your brother, who in return just laughs.

Jay ruffles your hair before walking back to the living room. “Whatever you say.”

You don’t say anything in reply.

You feel the humidity clouding the kitchen, the steam rising from the pot of budae-jjigae that your mother is mixing. You turn to help your mother sprinkle in the green onions, unable to contain your emotions longer if you continue to watch your brother and his best friend laughing together in the living room.

The smell of grilled meat and savoury broth fills the house, and the sound of laughter coming from the living room makes the atmosphere feel kind of comforting.

It’s always been that way.

You, Jake, and Jay—being with your older brother and his best friend always had been what you pictured home to be.

After finishing up the stew with your mother, you walk towards the living room to get Jay to help you set up the table.

“Jay–”

Jake’s eyes meet yours.

You freeze, and it hits you—tomorrow, the laughter that you dearly love wouldn’t be echoing in your house anymore.

You remember the moment everything started: the night two summers ago, just you and Jake in the quiet of the night, stars sparkling over the soccer field.

HE had found you sitting alone there, hugging your knees as the winds rustled past you.

You were too busy crying to notice him slipping his hoodie, warm and worn, over your shoulders. You didn’t even notice when he got there, and how he settled himself so naturally and comfortably next to you.

“You alright?” he asked.

You sniffled, nodding. You couldn’t look at him, slightly embarrassed by the way you probably look ugly with the ruined makeup—instead, you let the cold winds sting the salty tears out of your eyes.

“Thank you for coming, Jake.”

You heard Jake exhale heavily.

The school auditorium lights had been blinding, but that wasn’t enough to hide the evident empty seats on the third row. The ones you’d reserved for your parents and Jay. A last-minute work thing. A fever. An “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You didn’t blame them, but it hurted.

You smiled, of course. You were always good at that.

But just before the curtain rose, someone slid into the aisle seat at the very end, slightly out of breath, hoodie halfway off his shoulder.

Jake.

He gave you a thumbs-up and an exaggerated wink as the spotlight found you.

You widen your eyes, and forget your next line for half a second.

And now, it’s later, and you found yourself away from the people celebrating backstage. You didn’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this—but you desperately hoped that your parents and Jay had come to watch your play. This was something you worked hard for, and it took a big leap of courage for you to be able to do this. You loved being in plays and acting, but being on stage wasn’t something you looked forward to.

Jake smiled softly. “You absolutely killed it,” he said, smoothly putting a can of iced tea into your hands. “Especially the part where you dramatically died on that cardboard battlefield.”

You laughed, and you felt warm against the cold autumn night.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” you said after a while.

“Yeah, I did,” Jake said, quieter now. “You said it was important to you.”

You turned to face him, ignoring the way your mascara ran down your cheeks. “Jake…”

You didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t know what to do about the obvious butterflies fluttering in your chest.

And Jake didn’t say anything either, despite his usual chatter. He simply smiled.

“Keep that hoodie, you’ll need it.”

“Y/N? You okay?” Jake asks, and it pulls you back into the present.

Jay gets up from the couch. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You quickly shake your head. “Nothing! Um- just- Jay, mom called you.”

You let Jay walk past you, your eyes still glued to Jake. Realizing that Jake would probably notice you being weird, you immediately take a seat next to him.

“Soooo,” you begin, hoping that the conversation flows naturally. “You nervous?”

Jake chuckles, leaning back. “Me? Nervous?” he flashes a grin to you, and you bite your lip in an attempt to contain your heart’s acceleration. “Not a chance!”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Fine,” he admits, “a little. Brunei’s far.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

And you’re leaving me behind.

THE dinner goes well—you hope. Your family and Jake had always been close, and you’re sure your parents see him as one of their children by now. He sat next to Jay, and you couldn’t look at him—not without tears welling up in your eyes.

You hate how he’s going away.

Why can’t he just go to an army camp or whatever here?

You miss him already.

“Why do I always find you out in the cold by yourself?”

“Jake?” you turn sharply upon hearing him chuckle. You’re sitting on the stairs in front of your front door, staring at the starry night sky. He closes the door behind him, and sits down next to you, his breath visible in the air.

Jake slips the leather jacket he’s wearing on your shoulders. “At this point I think I’m going to have to give you my entire wardrobe, Y/N.”

You huff, hitting his chest, but it’s not as hard as you used to do.

“I’ll miss you.”

It slips from your tongue so effortlessly, it’s like you’ve never held it in all these years.

The look on Jake’s face is something you’ve never seen before.

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.”

A heavy wave of disappointment washes over you.

“Kiddo”?

Does he hate you or what?

You narrow your eyes, a poor try at masking the tears in your eyes. “You see me as just a sister, don’t you?”

“What?” Jake breathes.

The two of you sit there, knees touching as you stare at each other wide eyed, realising the weight of your words.

“You’re so clueless,” you sigh, pressing your lips together.

Jake grabs your shoulders before you can turn away. He makes you face him, his eyes swirling dangerously with some kind of emotion you’ve never seen in him.

Suddenly, you find your voice, along with your courage, stuck in your throat.

“I’m not,” he states, his voice shaky by the end. “Tell me. Tell me, Y/N.”

You laugh sheepishly, turning your head away. “What are you talking about, Jake? I–”

“Y/N.”

The desperation in his voice is now evident, and you find yourself eye to eye with him again.

“I…”

“Tell me, Y/N. I know you’re hiding something, and I don’t know why I feel so curious that I want to know before I, well, leave.”

You stare at Jake, who’s right in front of you, his breath warm against your face. He’s still holding your shoulders, his grip tight like he really doesn’t want you to pull away.

You’ve loved him since forever. You’ve watched him grow up with you and your brother, and slowly, you watched him be the person you want to spend forever with.

You and Jake are like best friends, soulmates even. There were times where Jay would complain that you and Jake have better chemistry than him and his own best friend—and you can’t help but admit that. You know of all the things that happen between you and Jake—the lingering glances, the inside jokes, and the way you’re both open with each other. You weren’t afraid to tell him anything, but one.

Your feelings for him.

You’re comfortable, basking in his affection for you in the name of Jay’s little sister. But now, after receiving the news that you won’t be seeing for a long while, you’re growing uneasy. What if you never have the chance to say your heart’s content ever again?

“Jake,” you call out, breathless.

“Yeah?” His voice is as quiet as yours.“What’s up?”

“I… I love you.” your voice cracks. “I just… needed you to know. Before you go.”

The world around you fades into the background.

Jake’s frown softens, and it melts into something that you can’t read. He stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. His grip on your shoulder loosens, and his hands fall to his side.

“Y/N…”

You don’t even realise the tears streaming down your cheeks until Jake leans forward, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You really know just how to perfectly mess up a guy’s goodbye, huh? Your brother’s best friend at that, too.”

You let out a laugh, despite your tears still raining down your face. “I didn’t want to regret, you know, not ever… getting it out there.”

Jake puts his hands to your side, caressing you softly with his thumbs. He looks up to the sky, then back at you again. “I don’t know what’s waiting for me over there. But if—when—I come back…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

Jake presses a kiss to your lips, warm and steady. It’s short, but it’s enough to catch you off guard. Enough to tell you what he feels.

“Take care of your brother,” he says after pulling away, “and take very good care of yourself too.”

“I’ll try, I promise,” you nod briefly.

“And… text me. Call me. Whatever,” Jake continues, his voice cracking.

You smile, nodding and tears begin to mess your face up again. He pulls you into a hug, long and tight, and when he lets go, the warmth lingers for a while.

Your tears don’t stop even when it’s time for him to leave.

“See you later, Y/N,” Jake says, caressing the top of your hair. The two of you ignore the looks Jay is giving.

You smile softly.

Then Jake is gone. And you stand there, the light of the street light brushing over your face, heart beating out of rhythm now that he’s away—not quite broken, not quite whole, but alive.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

181 notes · View notes