#this took me twenty full minutes help
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You 👉 know what I’ve always hated 😡💢 about you 👉, Amethar 👑🍬? You 👉 were so damn 👿 lucky 🍀.
I mean 😪, fifth 5️⃣ in line 📉 for the throne 🪑 and the crown 👑 rests 🛏️ on your head 🙆♂️. And each of your sisters 👯♀️ better 🥇 and more clever 👩🏫 than you. It really makes the unfortunate 🍀🚫 minor lord 🤵 of a less ↘️ than wealthy 💵 barony feel… well, a little underwhelming 😑😴.
Oh, I’ll say 📢, your sisters 👯♀️ were a little less lucky 🍀. The least 🥉 lucky 🍀 thing that ever happened to Rococoa 🍫 was when she found out 🕵️♀️ that I was selling 💰 weapons 🔫⚔️ to the Ceresians 🍞🥯. That… that had to be dealt with ☠️. And I think 🤔 you’ll remember how odd 🤪 it was that she was found riddles with arrows 🏹 so far behind our own lines 〰️. But that’s war 💣, and strange things happen in war 💣🧨 all the time ⏰.
The Ceresians 🥖🍞, I find are very reasonable, very reasonable and you can see 👓🔎some of their tents 🏕️ out here in the field 🌾.
You know, I don't have luck 🍀 so I have to work 💪. I have to work 💪a lot. First, I had to put the little cheese 🧀 boy 🧒🏼 onto the scent of the Duchess 👸 Coldbottle 🍼, and I had to ferry ⛴️ his idiot sailors ⛵️all the way the Sucrosi road 🚗 to that little farmhouse 🏠 - I mean, had to get them there somehow, they couldn't sail ⛵️ there, could they? And they'd be so suspicious 🤨 walking 🚶♂️ up the road, and yet - you miraculously ⛪️ survived 🖖, when you should have died 💀. Amethar 👑 🍬 the Unfallen ❤️.
You uncharacteristically 😮 leave a fight 👊 , you jump 🐰 out of the ring 💍 rather than trying to behead that carrot 🥕- and they call the tournament 🏟️, even with all the work 🏋️ that me and Alfredi 🍝 put in to getting those watersteel 💦 daggers 🗡️ into her hands 🙌 . I - I thought 💭 I was going to fail 0️⃣.
And then, and then your friend Manta Ray Jack 🧀 mentioned a girl 👧 , at the banquet 🍱 , 'stashed somewhere in the Dairy 🥛 Islands 🏝️ ', and I thought 💭 , 'That's so interesting 🤔 . Amethar 👑 🍬 and I are best friends 👯♂️, war buddies 🤝 as far back as we can remember 🧐. Why 🤨would he never 👎 tell me?' And I got to thinking 🤔 , 'Amethar 👑 🍬 was never quiet 🤐 about his exploits 🏃 as a roving Prince 🫅 of Candia 🍭, so why didn't I hear 👂 about this girl 👧 ?' And I thought 💭 , 'I'd better talk 🎙️with Manta Ray Jack 🧀.'
He didn't wanna 🙊 talk, but a few fingers 👋 and pints 🍻 of blood 🩸 later we remembered your sister's book 📖 . Very useful, your sister 👩 . Very useful indeed - up until a young Belizabeth Brassica 🥦 ordered her run 🏃🏻♀️ down in the streets by Vegetanian 🥗 Knights ⚔️ . That - that hurt 😔 , because she had always been very sweet 🍭 to me. Well, after Manta Ray 🧀, I saw 👀 an opportunity. You know, it hurts 🤕 to have all of your plans 📒 fail, but they say that improvisation 🎭 is the better part of planning 📝 , so I was happy 😊 to take advantage 🔝 of that opportunity when 🕰️ it presented itself, Amethar 👑 🍭.
You know what happens to a man 🧍♂️ when he dies ☠️ ? He shits 💩 himself. So I'll be happy 😊 to watch 👁️ 👁️ you shit 💩 one last time 🕰️, Amethar 👑 🍭 .
I wonder 🧐 if they'll call ☎️ you 'Amethar 👑 🍭 the Unfallen ❤️ ' after this😤? Here's to a future 🔮 you can't ⛔️ ruin 😡.
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i want to make some more posts about being mormon now just to be obnoxious about it but i really dont have much to say. i babysat kids at my mormon church today. i talked to other mormons today about the weather. i forgot to wear my rainbow necklace to church because im exhausted and overstimulated from an otherwise busy weekend but multiple people have complimented my rainbow jewelry this last month while at my mormon church
i wear pants instead of a skirt to my mormon church because im not a woman but i also dont wear a tie with my white shirt to my mormon church because im not a man, and no one seems to have a problem with it. no one ever walks up to me at my mormon church to say 'ew, youre different than me? vomit emoji.'
sometimes i wake up on a sunday morning and think 'i dont wanna go and no one can make me', but then i think about all the kids and teenagers whose families drag them to church and who will see me, sitting in the front row (because i dont want to see mormons chewing gum), flat chest and undercut, they/them button on my bag, chatting amicably with the mormon adults in my mormon church, and i make myself go anyways
they gave me a brownie on mothers day just for being a woman but they also gave me a cookie on father's day, and they didnt know it was because i'm also a man, because no one at my mormon church wants to offend me by asking me what the deal is with my whole situation, but i am also a man and i did score the father's day cookie and maybe that's a gift from the universe or maybe that's just a fun happy gender coincidence, and either way i'll take it ✌
#but also sometimes i DO wear a tie at church just because i can#the best part of being nonbinary in a traditional christian setting is NOT wearing the tie because its summer#the last time i wore a tie though it took me a full twenty minutes to get it tied right#like the length??#if i wore ties more often i ABSOLUTELY would keep them just pre-tied in my closet#and i cant ASK someone to help me tie that tie because the whole POINT is i can do whatever#breaks the illusion when i need help doing whatever lmao#lds things#religion things
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'how to draw x thing in y amount of time' how about we stop assuming that every artist is able-bodied huh! Maybe it takes me an extra half an hour to work on any line work bc my arthritis is super bad!! Maybe it takes me an extra two hours if I'm having a bad shaky day!! Just stop putting times on your art tutorials!! That extra information about how long it takes you doesn't make you look informed about art and how it works, it makes you look like an ass
#this isn't about the general label of like 'this took me roughly ten minutes vs rough my two hours' this is about the 'how to draw a full#*roughly*#body in seven minutes' 'how to do a complete painting in 30 minutes' like bruh stop assuming the ability level of people accessing ur tut#some of us can take like twenty minutes on a single sketch and some of y'all will really be out here like 'here's how to do art super fast!#reminder that ur art isn' good if th process isnt consumable or if it takes a different amount of time or a different application method'#I remember how much frantic googling I had to do when my arthritis was flaring up really bad bc all the tutorials for holding brushes and#pens only made it worse I had to look up something abt Parkinson's and gripping utensils before I found something that helped#idk I'm just real sick and tired of the art community's assumption that every body producing art is the same so tuts come down to#manipulating an abled body. like maybe I just wanted tutorials abt color interplay and shapes and maybe digital tips but nooooooooo
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Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?
fem, 1k
“Gideon has a new prodigy.”
Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?”
“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.”
“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.”
Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.”
“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?”
Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action).
“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along.
“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?”
“Here they are now.”
You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute.
“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.”
He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile.
“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking.
He frowns at you.
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.”
“I don't shake. Sorry.”
You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?”
Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.”
“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.
You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?”
“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.”
“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–”
“Hey.”
“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.”
“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says.
You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.”
“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.”
There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love.
“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life.
“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?”
“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask.
His lips part as yours had when you first saw him.
He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.”
You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”
“I see.” He waits.
You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team.
“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.”
You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation.
“Was she messing with me?”
Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.”
"Oh... She's nice."
"You have no idea."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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game on 02 | jjk
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2.9k
genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l
rating: 18+
warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man
summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.
a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋
read chappie one here
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
"Just kiss me."
"Hold on a second."
"We really need to practise this."
"I know, just give me a minute."
You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.
You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.
You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.
"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."
"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."
"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."
"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."
Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.
Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.
Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.
But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.
In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.
Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.
"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.
"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."
Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."
The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.
Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?
While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.
Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.
Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.
You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.
"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."
You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.
Taesung slid a document across the desk.
"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"
Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."
"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.
"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."
"It’s okay," you assured him gently.
Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."
After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.
Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.
But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.
Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.
"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."
You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.
"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"
A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."
"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"
"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"
You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.
"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."
"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."
"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."
Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.
"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.
"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."
He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.
After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.
Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.
And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.
"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."
Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."
You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.
"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."
You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.
"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."
You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.
"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.
"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."
"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.
"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."
"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."
You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.
"I think you do."
With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.
"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."
You frown upon hearing him complain.
"What, you want to make out with me in public?"
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."
"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."
The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."
His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.
Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.
Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.
The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.
Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.
When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.
"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."
You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"
"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."
Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."
"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."
He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.
"Are we done practising?"
"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"
It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.
The sound grabs his attention. "What?"
"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."
"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.
He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.
Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.
You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.
"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."
"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.
"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."
"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.
"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."
"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.
“We have to practise hard, then," he says.
You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."
"Oh, butterflies."
"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.
"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."
You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."
~
Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.
"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.
You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.
"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.
He holds up one finger. "Just one."
You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.
"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."
You scoff at his bratty words.
"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"
"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."
"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."
"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.
"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.
It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.
You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.
You follow Jungkook to the door.
"You think she’ll believe us?"
"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."
Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.
You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.
"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."
#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook scenario#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook best friend#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#bts imagine#bts scenario#bts fic#bts x you#bts x reader#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts jungkook
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My Mother My Girlfriend
Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader
(Incest Son x Mother, Blood Related, Taboo, Titfucking, Blowjob, Anal, Creampie)
I had been living with Eunbi, my slmother, for a few years now since my father has gone. She was a stunning Korean woman, with long black hair, delicate features, and a body with big tits that could make any man's head turn. I was in my early twenties, and Eunbi was in her mid-forties, but she looked even more youthful and vibrant than many women my age.
One day, as I was taking a shower, I heard a knock on the bathroom door. It was Eunbi. "Hey, can I come in?" she asked. Before I could answer, she opened the door and stepped inside.
I was taken aback, but I tried to act cool. "Uh, sure," I stammered, covering myself with a towel.
Eunbi smiled at me, her eyes twinkling. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I needed to use the bathroom, and I didn't want to disturb you."
She walked over to the sink and started washing her hands. I couldn't help but stare at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress that accentuated her curves, and her hair was styled in a way that made her look like a movie star.
As she dried her hands, she turned to me and looked me up and down. "You know, you're a good-looking boy," she said, her voice low and sultry.
I felt my face flush. "Thanks," I muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.
Eunbi stepped closer to me, her eyes fixed on mine. "I mean it," she said, her breath hot against my face. "You're a real hottie."
I didn't know what to say. I had never thought of Eunbi in a sexual way before, but now, with her standing so close to me, I couldn't help but feel a stirring in my loins.
Eunbi must have noticed, because she smiled and reached out to touch my chest. "You like that, don't you?" she whispered.
Eunbi's hand moved down to my towel, and she started to pull it away. "Let me see what you've got," she said, her voice full of desire.
I let her take the towel off, and I stood there, naked and exposed, in front of my mother.
She looked at me for a moment, her eyes taking in every inch of my body. Then she reached out and took my cock in her hand. "Nice," she murmured, starting to stroke it gently.
Then she on her knees, open her tanktop and bra and take my cock between of her big tits. "You like it baby? You like my big tits? This tits feeding you when you are a baby" she keep squeeze her own breast, keep my cock between her tits.
"Mommy aahhhh" I start moan since her try to suck my cock when my cock still between her tits.
She continued to stroke me, her other hand reaching up to cup my balls. "These are nice and heavy," she said, giving them a gentle squeeze.
I let out a cry of pleasure as she started to suck me, her tongue swirling around my shaft. I had never felt anything so good before.
As she sucked me, Eunbi reached up to tweak my nipples, her fingers pinching and twisting them gently. "Do you like that?" she asked, her voice muffled.
After a few minutes, she stood up and turned around, bending over the sink. "Fuck me," she said, her voice husky with desire.
I didn't need to be asked twice. I stepped forward and positioned myself behind her, my cock pressing against her pussy.
Eunbi glanced back at me over her shoulder. "Not there," she said, her voice low. "I want you to take me from behind."
I nodded, understanding what she meant. I grabbed her hips and positioned my cock at her entrance, then pushed forward, sliding into her easily.
Eunbi let out a moan of pleasure as I started to fuck her, my hips slapping against her ass.
"Harder," she gasped, looking back at me over her shoulder.
I obliged, thrusting harder and faster, my balls slapping against her clit.
I groaned, my hips thrusting even harder. I had never felt anything like this before.
After a few minutes, I pulled out of Eunbi's pussy and positioned myself at her ass. "I want to take you here," I said, my voice husky.
Eunbi nodded, her eyes glazed with pleasure. "Do it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I pushed forward, sliding into her ass easily. Eunbi let out a cry of pleasure as I started to fuck her, my hips slapping against her ass.
"I'm going to cum, Mommy" I gasped, my hips thrusting faster.
"Cum inside me," Eunbi moaned, her lips still closed around my balls.
I groaned and thrust harder, my cock pulsing as I filled Eunbi's ass with my cum.
We both stood there for a moment, panting and gasping for breath. Then Eunbi stood up and turned around, a satisfied smile on her face.
"That was amazing," she said, reaching out to stroke my cheek.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath.
"Kwon Eunbi, do you wanna be my girlfriend? Then become my wife one day?"
Eunbi smiled and nodded and leaned in to kiss me, her tongue exploring my mouth.
As we kissed, I felt a surge of desire wash over me. I knew that this was just the beginning, and I couldn't wait to see what else Eunbi had in store for me.
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after dark — r.c.
pairing: ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, violence, blood, murder, knife play, mask kink, hair pulling, spanking, cursing, toxic, controlling, manipulative and possessive behaviour, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, breeding kink
word count: 4.5k
summary: the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town could be closer to you than you might think.
moodboard // nav. // m.list // taglist
“Rafe?” you called out to your boyfriend who was attentively watching the TV from beside you on the couch, a deep sense of unease and concern in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he replied, his eyes still glued to the screen as his warm hand moved to your thigh, giving it a squeeze to let you know that he was listening. “I’m… I’m scared” you murmured with your brows knitted, referring to the news report about a killer being on the loose, terrorising the entire town for weeks now. They played footage taken from a Ring doorbell camera that showed him wearing a black and white mask, identical to the one from the Scream movies to hide his identity, along with a full black outfit.
So far, there has been an estimated five victims, all of them male. Men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six who are university students were the killer's primary target, it seemed. You were familiar with all of them— you had worked on group projects with a number of these people and even tutored two of them, helping them with subjects that you excelled at to earn some extra cash. To sum up, you saw all of the murdered male students regularly. Fear prickled over your skin as the reporter revealed more shocking details about the murders.
Rafe turned to face you, an empathetic smile swept across his handsome face as he moved closer to you, the palm of his warm hand resting on your cheek as he looked at you with his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be scared baby. You know I’ll take care of you, alright? I won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl” You fidgeted with your hands and looked down, letting his words sink in. Rafe always took care of you, ensuring that you were happy and healthy— he’d do anything for you. For the first time ever, though, you were unsure if Rafe could truly protect you from a bloodlust killer who has murdered men even bigger, stronger and more athletic than Rafe.
He looked off into the distance, thinking deeply as he released a hesitating breath, “Look, why don’t you stay with me here? Hmm? It’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you. You’ll be safe here, I promise” you met his eyes again and nodded, feeling relieved that you can be with him every minute of the day.
Every minute of the day, that is, unless you were in class, because school life didn’t pause. Why it didn’t was a mystery to you, but the police stated that they had everything under control, which you found hard to believe. It made you feel anxious to be distanced from Rafe during those times. You not only feared for yourself, but for him as well. It became impossible to concentrate in class. Knowing that anyone could become the next victim sent your mind into overdrive. No one was safe.
You took your phone out of your pocket and opened iMessage, scrolling through your conversations before tapping your and Rafe’s. You occasionally glanced up quickly to make sure the teacher wasn't watching you before typing a message.
You: I miss you so much :( Are you okay?
Rafe 💞: Miss you more, my pretty girl. I’m alright, just hanging out with Top.
His words still made you blush, your cheeks heating up as a tiny smile formed on your face before you quickly looked up, checking if anyone saw you texting. The teacher is lost in her own world, going over theories while you see several other students on their phones as well, evidently bored by the contents of the class. You returned your focus to your phone and started typing a new message.
You: Be careful, okay? I’m scared…
Rafe 💞: Baby, I won’t let anything happen to you, got it? You know I have your location on my phone. I will keep an eye on you. Buy yourself some pretty lingerie and I will help you relax when you get home ;)
Rafe Cameron transferred $500 to your bank account.
Your eyes grew wide before you let out a chuckle at how easily he gives you money when you don’t even need it. You hastily typed a ‘thank you’ message and slipped your phone back into your pocket with a giddy smile on your face before the teacher could notice you.
When class finally ended for the day, you felt a wave of relief, especially since John B, one of your friends, offered to walk you home—well, to Rafe's house. You and John B used to be closer, hanging out multiple times a week, but Rafe’s possessive and jealous nature doesn’t allow you to anymore. Even though you don’t hang out with him now, he still checks in on you from time to time, showing you that he still cares about you, which you appreciate a lot. When you first started dating, John B openly expressed his dislike for Rafe. Despite your numerous attempts to convince him that Rafe genuinely does take great care of you, John B couldn’t be convinced. Their animosity towards one another runs too deep.
The two of you were walking side to side as you approached Rafe's street, wandering by large villas with breathtaking front gardens. John B didn't appear in the least bit afraid or worried and you couldn’t understand why. Everyone, including yourself, was terrified, not daring to go outside unless needed. You eyed him with confusion as you were thinking it over, which he seemed to catch on right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face as he continued walking. “Are you not scared, John B?” You asked with curiosity. A small chuckle left his mouth before he shook his head, “Scared? Have you seen him? He wears a silly costume from some dumb movie.” It went silent for a while as you were at a loss for words, wondering how someone could not be afraid of a murderer.
John B soon ended the silence before you could go further into the topic, “Hey, remember when we rehearsed for that play? And we had to dance together and you-“ he laughs while holding his stomach, pausing for a moment to collect himself before continuing, “and you fell and ripped your clothes?” You felt your face heat up and an embarrassed smile crossed your lips before you hit him in the arm. Those were the memories you did not want to relive, embarrassing yourself in front of numerous students and staff members. “Oh stop it! First of all, it wasn’t even that funny and secondly, completely your fault, by the way” You responded, defending yourself but unable to hide your laughter.
“It went like this” John B said before he lifted you up and spun you around, causing you to scream and laugh hysterically. “Stop! I-“ you tried to yell at him but you were laughing too hard, your abdominal muscles hurting. You two giggled as he gently set you back down on the ground before you turned your gaze towards Rafe’s house and your face dropped instantly. Rafe was waiting for you, leaning against the doorframe and standing with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as he looked at you both.
You swallowed and gathered yourself quickly before putting on a forced smile and turning to face John B. But John B was staring back at Rafe with an equally as intimidating look on his face, so much so that he stopped noticing you. “Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it” you said, attempting to defuse the tension before moving slowly in Rafe's direction— but both their eyes didn’t leave each other for a second. Every muscle in your body tightened and the tension in the air was apparent.
You walked up to Rafe, ascending the stairs to his enormous home's front door. “H-hi baby, missed you” you spoke as you drew nearer to him, a whiff of his signature cologne filling your nose. You looked back at John B and saw him heading to his own home, thankfully. Rafe rolled his eyes before he turned around and made his way inside the house. As you nervously followed him and silently shut the door behind you, your brows pinched in concern.
“Baby?” you whispered, trailing after Rafe into the house as you watched his back, his muscles prominent through the tight shirt he was wearing. “Are you angry at me?” You asked in a low voice, worried about the answer. He turned around and came up to you, his large hands cupping your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I could never be angry at you, sweet girl. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that, alright?” he said before you nodded, a wave of relief instantly washing over you. He kissed you on the forehead and you closed your eyes to take in the moment, feeling lucky to have such a caring and sweet boyfriend, you thought. But then the night fell.
“Fuck! No, no, no!” A terrible nightmare about the killer had you breathing heavily when you woke up in the middle of the night. You immediately sat up straight, your chest heaving up and down as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Rafe?” You called out, desperate for his comfort and affection.
After a short while, there was still no response. Still feeling a little disoriented, your brows knitted as you attempted to sort through your thoughts. But something felt off. You extended your arm around the bed but there was nothing but pillows next to you. This is when you started to feel a little panicked and horrible thoughts pierced your mind like needles jabbing at your skin. “Rafe?!” you called out again in fear, a little louder this time with still no response. You hastily turned on the light, a perplexed frown appearing on your face. The bed was empty. Rafe was usually a very deep sleeper so waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t anything like him. You pushed the blanket off of yourself and stood up, turning off the light again before carefully leaving the room to investigate the situation.
The only sound you could hear as you wandered around his house was the clock ticking as you made your way to the stairs, slowly walking down. His enormous house was terrifying at night, your trembling, sweaty hand gripping the railing tightly. You gasped at hearing heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs. Tears started forming in your eyes, afraid that anything had happened to Rafe. Scenarios played in your head of the killer entering the house and taking Rafe, torturing him or even worse, murdering him.
When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you took your time making your way to the kitchen while holding your breath. The footsteps became louder now as you approached the person. You were so scared and worried about what you might find behind the wall that tears were streaming down your face. You approached the kitchen cautiously and peeked inside. It took you a few blinks to get used to the darkness, but you exhaled deeply in relief when you saw Rafe in the kitchen, unharmed. Thank god. You reasoned that he must have gotten hungry or wanted to grab a glass of water. You hurried into the kitchen to hug him tight and take him back into bed immediately.
“Rafe? Baby? I saw you weren’t in bed so I-“ you began, feeling relieved to see your boyfriend standing in front of you before your jaw fell as you stood there, unblinking, trying to process what you were seeing. “Rafe…” You gulped and stared in horror, taking in the black and white mask he was holding in addition to the fresh blood on his body. You blinked a few times, thinking you must be still in a dream, but that wasn’t the case— Rafe was still standing in front of you, equally as shocked before he slowly approached you.
“I can explain” He whispered softly, wary of what to say. His expression showed panic as he hurriedly placed the mask down on the table. “Okay, okay, it’s all good. We got this” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrating moan. Fear coursed through your body as you stood there motionless and terrified. “Baby, listen, alright? Sometimes-“ he began, pacing around the kitchen at this point, “Sometimes things just gotta happen. We don’t always have a choice, got that? And- and, I just gotta protect you- gotta protect you from all those bad men who wanna take you away.” Your legs felt weak and all kinds of emotions shot through your body. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything. Your breathing quickened as Rafe continued his ramblings. “I just- I just can’t let that happen, alright? You’re my sweet and innocent girl. I can’t let anyone take you from me, never.”
Your trembling hand moved to your mouth and your eyes grew wide when it finally clicked whose blood it was on Rafe. “Rafe? Is that…” you gulped, secretly hoping you were wrong. “Is that John B’s blood?” he turned around quickly and locked eyes with you. “Baby, you know I didn’t have a choice, okay? I had to do it. I need to protect you, protect you from all the evil in this world” He said, trying his best to convince you. You blinked a few times, tears streaming down your face as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. Everything was difficult for you, your head hurting. But you loved Rafe. He was everything to you. He took care of you. He looked after you. In the end, he was the one who was always there for you no matter what. You needed him. You wiped the tears from your face using your shirt's sleeve and glanced back at him, nodding. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and you could see the relief immediately wash over him.
“But…“ Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your mind was racing with a gazillion thoughts. “But what if anyone saw you?” Taking the mask off the table, Rafe covered his head with it. “That’s what this is for” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. You looked him up and down, examining every inch of him, from the ghostface mask to his blood-covered body, the muscles emphasised by his tight outfit. Fuck. You felt something happening inside of you. It wasn't worry or fear— it was something else. Rafe’s masked head tilted as he stared at you, trying to read your expression.
“Wait a minute…” he began, moving closer, “I know that look” Rafe chuckled and he approached you slowly as you took a step back with each step he took forward before your lower back hit the kitchen counter. His face came closer to yours as your breath hitched. He reached over to the kitchen counter beside you, grabbing the knife from next to you and putting it under your chin to lift your head up. “You dirty fucking slut. I see what’s happening here” His face drew nearer, whispering into your ear, “you’re turned on by this.”
“W-What?” you said, trying to sound confused but you couldn’t deny it, you knew he was right. The pointy end of the knife slightly dug into your skin. Instead of feeling scared, you could feel your core aching for him. “Don’t act stupid. God, you’re even more fucked up in that little head of yours than I thought” Rafe chuckled before he took the knife from under your chin and slipped both hands under your ass, hauling you up quickly and tossing you over his shoulder with ease while holding the knife in his hand. You let out a small squeal before he walked you both towards the bedroom.
“Tonight, I’m gonna have to show you who the fuck you belong to.” Rafe stated in a low voice through his mask, causing you to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt ashamed, as well as a horrible person. Your skin was stained with blood at this point— John B’s blood. But as much as he was your friend, Rafe was your boyfriend, your caregiver, your everything. And you started to think that maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe you need someone to protect you, to keep the bad men away. Maybe Rafe saw something in John B that you didn’t— in the end, you knew Rafe only ever wanted the best for you. You both loved each other forever and always, and apparently, that went as far as killing for you.
Rafe threw you onto the bed after pushing open the door to his bedroom and shutting it behind him. You slightly bounced on the bed before you turned around, resting on your elbows as you looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He stood in front of you, his arms folded and the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend’s menacing demeanour— the blood-stained black and white mask, a knife gripped in his right hand, and the slightly torn black outfit, indicating that John B tried to fight for his life. The only features of your boyfriend’s face visible were his blue eyes, gazing directly at you.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, alright?” he said, with a harsh and intimidating tone. You nodded as you swallowed, anticipation raging through your body. He slightly tilted his masked head, thinking about what he was going do with you till an idea struck. He approached you slowly, footsteps heavy due to his boots. His right hand played with the knife, showing that he had plans with it. He leaned over you when he was close enough, then slid the knife under your shirt. Gazing at him with wide eyes, you gasped as he quickly tore apart your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.
“Prettiest fucking girl I have ever seen. Fuck, I am so lucky.” He now placed the knife under the straps of your bra and sliced it open, then he did the same to your underwear and tossed it aside. You let out a small whine, and he turned to face you immediately. “That… that was my favourite set” You sulked as you gazed at the shredded lingerie set lying on the floor. Rafe simply chuckled before he gripped your face forcefully, turning you to look at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb, you know I can buy you every single lingerie set that you want in the whole fucking world.”
Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your body and turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees with your ass facing him. You were soaking at this point, your wetness dripping onto the mattress. You suddenly felt the cold knife against your core, gathering the wetness as you shivered and tried to remain motionless. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping. You could’ve just told me you had some fucked up kink for killers, you know. Would’ve made it a lot easier for me” Rafe taunted, and you just knew he was smirking under that mask.
“Grip the sheets baby, maybe even bite them if you need to. Dunno how high your pain tolerance is.” he said, causing you to worry for a moment as your hands clutched the sheets under you. “But I guess we’re about to find out.” He slapped your ass swiftly before you felt the sharp knife against the skin of your ass, digging into the flesh. Your eyes closed and your teeth clenched together as you hissed at the sensation.
“R… A…” he began, as he carved his name into your skin. “It- it hurts” you cried out as you gripped the sheets. “Nuh-uh, not done yet. F…” he continued, unaffected by your whines and pleads. “E…” When he was done, he stood back to admire his work of art. “All done. Looks pretty good if I say so myself.” he said with a satisfied tone. Your eyes began to well up with tears as a result of the stinging in your skin. “All fucking mine.” He said before throwing the knife on the ground.
“On your knees in front of me. Now” he ordered, and you didn’t waste a second before you were sitting on your knees on the ground, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His gloved hand brushed over your face before gripping your chin, “You are nothing but my dirty whore. Got that? My property. And I will kill anyone that gets in the way.” You nodded, feeling desperate for him. He undressed himself, leaving him completely naked except for the mask on his face. You observed him— the muscles on his toned body, the blood splatters, his hard cock leaking precum. You needed him.
“Make yourself useful for once” he growled, before slapping your cheek and causing you to hiss. “Suck.” was all he said as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you towards him. You started by swirling your tongue over the tip and around the length of his shaft, causing him to throw his head back and grunt. He became impatient quickly, as he pushed your head further down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Juuust like that, princess, doing so good for me.”You were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, but you weren’t unfamiliar with his mood swings. You knew what to do to get him to praise you— being a good girl and doing what he says, at all times. You never wanted to disagree with Rafe or reject him. You'd go to any lengths for him.
“Holy fuck” he growled as you continued bobbing your head, saliva running down your face. He had a strong grip on your hair as he fucked your face while you held on to his thighs. He let out a grunt before shoving you off him right before he could cum, sending you stumbling backwards a little. He gestured with his head for you to get back on the bed as he grabbed the knife from the ground. You hurriedly returned to the bed and waited for him on your hands and knees before he positioned himself behind you. He then slapped your ass, making you cry out as the cuts from earlier made it sting even more.
“Aww, does that hurt, princess?” he asked, running a hand over the spot he had just slapped as you nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “But my girl can handle that, right?” he said as he teased your core with his fingers. “My girl can handle anything, as long as she got me.” he unexpectedly slipped a finger into you, causing you to moan out at the feeling. He moved in and out before adding another one, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into you. You arched your back as he curled his fingers and moved them against your g-sport skilfully. Rafe was amazing at fingering, making you squirt and cum countless times. But he quickly pulled out before you could even feel your release nearing, causing you to whine. “I know baby, I know. But I need you to cum around my cock, alright?”
He grabbed your hips and positioned himself at your entrance before he pushed into you in one quick thrust without any warning. You gasped as he buried himself into you balls deep. “Always so fucking tight. Fuuuck” Rafe groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He wasted no time by thrusting in and out of you right away as he stretched you out completely. You felt a hint of pain but it was soon overpowered by pleasure. He set a steady and rough rhythm, massaging your walls perfectly.
“You’re gonna be mine forever, got that? No one will ever get to touch you.” he said as he gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head towards him. He took the knife from beside him, but you were too cock-drunk to even notice it while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You unexpectedly felt the icy blade against your throat, causing you to gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” he whispered into your ear, his voice muffled because of the mask as he continued his brutal thrusts along with the sharp knife against your throat. You felt your release building as your wetness trickled down the sides of your thigh. His cock felt so deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.
“Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you, sweet girl, you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days.” he growled with one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the knife. “Even better if a baby starts growing in that pretty body of yours, so I can fully claim you as mine.” His words made you even more aroused and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. “I’m c-close” was all you could manage to say as you heard him groan from under the mask.
“Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the dirty slut you are” his words were enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars and your body to shake. You cried out with your mouth agape as you clenched around his cock. “Good fucking girl”
You could feel his hips stagger and lose rhythm, knowing he was close as well. One last powerful thrust and you could feel his warm cum painting your walls, milking every last drop of his seed inside of you. The grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin as he rode out his high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he cursed while panting. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You attempted to get up but rafe quickly stopped you, gazing at you through the mask.
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” he chuckled, before flipping you onto your back and caging you between his arms, “Round two, princess.”
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#❥ ari’s works#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#outer banks#outer banks smut#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#ghostface#ghostface!rafe#ghostface!rafe cameron#ghostface rafe cameron#outer banks fic
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A/N: this has been in the drafts for too long
Sukuna this, Sukuna that.
People call him irresponsible, stupid, a good-for-nothing piece of shit, a monster, a lunatic, all because of his looks and demeanor. You either love him, or fear him, because bless the scathed hearts of those who hated him. In the end, there was only one thing no one could ever call Ryomen.
Pitiful whimpers and whines came from beyond the door, just as Sukuna felt himself nearing Dreamland.
He cursed beneath his breath, turning around in bed and throwing an arm around your waist. His prayers to God for you to not hear Yuuji's sniffling were to no avail when he felt you slightly shift against him.
"Wha—?" Blinking back the sleep in confusion, you couldn't help but also yawn.
The lit-up red, glaring numbers on Sukuna's alarm clock read a time past three in the morning. You knew only that much, as your eyes took a few moments to adjust to the lighting in your shared bedroom.
"Brotherrrr!" Another cry rang through the apartment, and you — full of worry — turned to face your boyfriend, hoping for an answer.
The pink-haired man rolled his eyes in return, mumbling a small "Yuuji", and that's all you needed to know before you sat up in bed.
You shot Sukuna a reprimanding look, "So you're just going to lay there while your brother's practically clawing at the door for you? It actually surprises me how long Yuuji's survived in your care."
Sukuna propped himself up on an elbow, "Babe, c'mon. It's not that serious; he's just being his normal attention-seeking self. He'll get over it in no time and go scampering back to bed—"
"No, you come on. He's a kid, Ryomen, a toddler for fuck's sake. What if he hurt himself, or—or—or, worse? What if he—?"
Sukuna sighed, having finally given up on it all. The blanket fell to his waist as he sat up, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before sliding out of bed.
It was a struggle to find his sweats in the dark, and he didn't even try to search for his hoodie, opting to fuck it and go shirtless. Yuuji's cries drastically increased in volume, and Sukuna was really beginning to wonder what was wrong.
Unlike most children his age, Little Yuuji never caused problems when it was his bedtime. All it took for the little boy to get knocked out was a movie. And get this, he never even finished any! Either you or Sukuna would turn on some old Disney film and the kid would be fast asleep usually twenty minutes in.
On the days where Yuuji wasn't interested in gawking at the characters on screen, he was cuddled up in your arms — sometimes Sukuna's, and reading a silly bedtime story until his breathing evened and his eyelids drooped shut.
Tonight wasn't any different. . . Besides the fact that Sukuna may or may not have put on a horror movie instead of the usual princess genre. He had manipulated his innocent brother into thinking horror was the best kind of movie there was, and forced him to watch one. Initially, you had tried to stop him, but then he shoved Yuuji's pouty face in front of you and, how could you turn down a cutie like that?
You had hoped Yuuji would just fall asleep before any scary stuff not suitable for a mere child showed, but no. Yuuji stayed wide awake for it all. Of course, he was sat on your lap the whole time, but there was only so much you could do to shield the little boy from all the terrors playing on the screen.
Sukuna tried to justify his actions, saying, "This'll teach him how to be a man; I'm showing him how cruel the world can be; that's all." But Sukuna could not be farther from the truth.
Immediately after hearing the bedroom door unlock, Yuuji ran — clutching his stuffed animal in hand — right into his older brother, seeking solace. And as Sukuna stood with the little parasite wrapped around his leg, crying into the material of his pants, he couldn't help but pinch the space between his brows. This was a terrible mistake, he thought.
Fortunately, you appeared behind your boyfriend just a few moments later, after having put on an oversized shirt, he noticed.
"Hey there, Yuu. What's wrong?" you asked, in a soft voice, just above a whisper.
You knelt down beside the boy, patting his messy bed hair. One thing these brothers had in common was their absolutely out of control hair, goddamn.
Yuuji, still not letting go of Sukuna's leg, turned to look at you. His tears were starting to come to slow, as they dried on his cheek, but he continued sniffling. His lip trembled as he spoke with hiccups coming within intervals.
"I—I had a bad dweam. Hic, you and bwother left me and—and never came back, hic. . ."
The toddler looked about ready to burst out crying again, but he didn't want to appear lesser of a man than his brother called him. So he stifled his cries as best as he could, bringing his chubby finger up to wipe away one of his tears.
"Aw, Yuuji, you know me and Sukuna would never do that to you. You're too important to us, y'know?" You booped him on the nose, "You're also too cute, and nothing's more manlier than that, Yuuji."
You saw the light return to his eyes, the little boy growing more and more like his usual lively self with every word you spoke. Sukuna took note of that; you were always so lenient and caring with his little brother, never blaming him for doing acts completely normal for his age.
Sukuna only spoke up after you picked Yuuji up in your arms, letting the kid rest his head on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair.
"Lying too much is bad." He turned to you with a knowing look.
"Jealous much?" You smiled, a cheeky look plastered on your face. "Or are you just insecure about not being as manly as Yuuji over here?"
"Oh, please. We both know I'm as manly as it gets," Sukuna scoffed, settling back beneath the covers and beckoning for you to follow.
You walked over to your side of the bed, with a sleeping toddler in your arms. "He's already knocked out," you whispered, placing a kiss on Yuuji's forehead. "Let's let him sleep in in the morning; he seems tired."
Sukuna hummed in agreement, placing Yuuji between you both. "But . . . I'm not too sure I'll be able to go back to sleep now. I dunno, babe, I think I need a good night kiss, as well."
Careful as to not wake the little boy up, you stifled a giggle behind your palm, before planting a wet kiss on Sukuna's cheek. "Mwah!"
It was not a surprise when Sukuna pulled you back for a real, and more ardent, kiss on the lips. Sukuna's boyish laughter, your hushed giggles, and Yuuji's quiet snores were the only sounds audible throughout the apartment.
Sukuna was never one to like kids, having a little sibling and whatnot he was already quite experienced. So when people asked him if he planned on having any children, he never said "yes" (he also never said "no"). Sukuna never had a proper father by his side; he knew he wouldn't be much help with a family of his own. But now, he had you.
You were a good caretaker to Yuuji, and maybe, just maybe, Sukuna could also see you taking care of his own blood and flesh. Little squeals and giggles coming from a child with his pink, unruly hair, and the same grin on their face as so his. It was a dream, it was an idea, it was a want.
Sukuna wasn't a bad brother, would being a father be so different?
#sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#sukuna fluff#em writes ˎˊ˗
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.
With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.
About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.
Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.
It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.
--------------------------
Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."
The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.
As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."
His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"
When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.
Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."
The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.
"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"
Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."
Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.
"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."
Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."
Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.
"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."
The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"
"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.
With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.
"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.
"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."
He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"
He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."
"I love you, Bradley!"
"I love you so much."
As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.
"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."
Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.
He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.
"Yes, sir?"
The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."
Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"
He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."
This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."
"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.
Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.
When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."
------------------------------
If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.
You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.
"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."
She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."
"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.
As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"
You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."
"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"
You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."
"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.
"I could be! You don't even know!"
Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.
"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."
"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.
"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."
You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."
Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.
"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.
"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."
"I think he'd like that."
You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?
"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.
"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."
"Okay."
You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.
I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.
But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.
---------------------------
On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.
You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?
While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.
"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"
You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.
Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.
"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.
I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.
Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.
Open me when you've had a bad day
Open me when you really want some coffee
Open me when you need a laugh
Open me when you're in bed
Open me when you need a girls' night
Open me with your class
You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.
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He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby
PART 21
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
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mind over matter | s.mg
Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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somethin' stupid [ii]
"and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never felt so right before"
===+++===
pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: it's all her fault, and wednesday can't help but feel it in her bones.
warnings: mentions of blood, the police (gross), hospitalisation, crying
word count: 4.8k
A/N: thank you all for the love and support you have given to this silly little story of mine. it is absolutely insane. red font denotes the thoughts of those around you. kind of worried i may have rushed the ending, but i hope you like it anyhow. right, anyways...
===+++===
It took an additional thirty four minutes and twenty eight seconds after the beast sunk its claws into your chest, for Wednesday to come wandering out of the line of trees stretching to the cloudy sky and onto the nearby mountain street, still wearing your bright yellow raincoat bunched around her wrists.
Finding the cave had not turned out to be entirely as difficult as she had expected, and she managed to find its charred remains just as Eugene had said. There was no evidence to gather, really, and there never had been to begin with.
In the far away distance, only lightly covered by the rain, it sounded as if a flock of birds were screaming at each other and fighting, and the noise rang throughout the forest before settling in Wednesday’s ears. She had already been annoyed and frustrated enough tonight. The extra noise just set her even more on edge than before.
It took another sixteen seconds and a few steps closer then, for Wednesday to realise the noise bleeding from around the bend in the road wasn’t in fact, a group of birds. Instead, it was the worst sound Wednesday could ever want to hear.
Within an instant, Wednesday took off running, every sickening realisation clicking at once. The vision that had been plaguing her nightmares and every interaction with you came back in full force. Her stomach began to churn as she went, heart burning and ears ringing. She knew.
When Wednesday rounded the curve, she saw the cars and their sirens.
The red and blue lights bounced off of the dirt and pavement even from far away, reflecting in the rain water as it pummelled to the ground. Five police cruisers sat strewn every which way along the shoulder of the road, headlights on and pointed into the underbrush. Officers wandered the clearing, pointing their flashlights into the dark and yelling loudly to each other in an attempt to overcome the rain.
As Wednesday rushed towards the vehicles, a man stepped out of the closest car to her, wearing a plastic blue poncho that did mostly nothing to stop the merciless pounding of the furious rain. He spoke into a little radio on his shoulder, staring out into woods at his men while they searched.
Wednesday’s loud steps from her thick shoes warned him of her nearing, and the man turned, hand dropping from his radio. She was immediately displeased, greatly so; the man was Sheriff Galpin. He looked just as unhappy to see her, frown drooping into a wry glower.
“Addams what are you doing out here??!” He shouted at her over the storm, hands placing themselves on his hips. “It’s sure as hell past your curfew, now go back to Nevermore, dammit!“
Wednesday walked right up to him then, tugging him roughly by the poncho and his collar, which she balled up dangerously in her fist. It was a warning, and she meant it. Potentially, she meant it more than any threat she had previously given. “Who did you find.”
Sheriff Galpin’s eyebrows lowered, a line appearing in his forehead as he stared her down. “That’s official Jericho Police Department business, missy. You need to-“
Her grip on his clothing tightened. “Now.” Her voice shook a little. “Who did you find.”
He looked at her for a moment in the flickering blue and red of the dark, examining the look on her face. Her eyes were shining, though she would never admit to it. The old sheriff sighed. “Some kid from Nevermore was attacked. You might have known ‘em. Name was like, (Y/n) or something.”
Wednesday’s hand went slack, dropping back down to her side. “Were…,” she swallowed, attempting to cool the heat rushing to her face. It felt as if the Earth had just broken away from its orbit, to float off directionless into space. “Were they killed?”
For the first time, Sheriff Galpin seemed almost soft. He bent down to her a bit, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly as if to say ‘there, there.’ He had never liked the Addams girl much, though that seemed highly irrelevant in the moment.
“Uh, luckily no, though the camper who found them said they were awful close. The EMTs got here just in time. They’re headed to the hospital.”
Wednesday pulled back, tensing at his hand. “Give me a ride to the hospital,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The sheriff shook his head.
“Nuh uh, no way. You’re going back to school, kid. It’s too late for you to be out here anyways, and I’m sure Weems would like to know why the hell you were out past curfew in the first place.”
She glared. “I need to be at that hospital.”
The sheriff rolled his eyes at her, any moment of softness gone upon remembering why he disliked her and her family so much. “Like hell I’m going to take you there.”
Wednesday blinked at him.
===+++===
The night was still dark but no longer raining, when Sheriff Galpin speedily dropped Wednesday off with her bloody fist at the front step of the hospital.
Punching the tree again and again had hurt, the sharp bark slicing through the skin of her knuckles, but it also meant she needed a nurse and potentially stitches, and there was only one place capable of offering such services. Suffice to say, the sheriff wouldn’t become her fan any time soon.
The clock had slowly crawled to four in the morning, and though Wednesday was exhausted, and Enid and Thing were potentially freaking out back at the school as to where the hell either of you were, Wednesday was a bit more concerned with figuring out where in the hospital your room was. Oh, and maybe aiding her fist, which was now dripping blood onto the patterned green carpeting as she went.
Upon entering and striding right up to the front counter, Wednesday had gotten straight to business. She held up her bloody fist, placing it with a 'thud' on top of an infographic that sat on the reception desk. The previously sleepy-looking teenage receptionist stared at Wednesday with a look of wide awake, abject horror. “Tell me where the ER is,” she said.
"Uh...over there?” said the girl, raising a weak finger towards the doors in the far left and unable to pry her eyes away from Wednesday’s hand.
Wednesday nodded a single time before walking off, leaving the receptionist to lean over the counter and watch her go. The sign over the door was marked 'ER,' and Wednesday followed down the brightly lit hall until she arrived at a new waiting area. The people in there looked much worse for wear than the empty entrance at the front.
Nervous parents sat cradling their obviously sick children, a construction worker was repeatedly coughing in the corner with his head propped up, trying to stay awake, and a woman in a pantsuit was cradling her foot in a cast and wincing. If this was an omen to who was in your company, it was certainly a bad one.
Wednesday did just as she had before, walking right up to the desk with her hand and showing it to the nurse at the front. Only this time, the woman gave her a worried look, picking up the black phone to her right immediately and dialling a few numbers into the keypad.
“Uh, stay right there, ma’am,” the woman said. Wednesday nodded. She didn’t intend to go anywhere anyways.
The nurse who had come to find her was an older woman, with smile lines crinkling around her mouth and winging off the corners of her eyes. She looked almost like a grandmother, except the electric pink afro she had curled off of her head in coils that spoke of youth and vitality and fun. Enid would have liked her, and Wednesday knew you would have too, but she hated the colour pink just as she (mostly) disliked fun people.
The woman had gotten straight down to business, pulling Wednesday into a room with a metal tray of supplies already picked out and holding up her hand.
Even being someone who enjoyed pain as she did, the antiseptic stung when it was placed over the scratches on her fingers. She hissed a bit, and the nurse glanced up at her with pitying eyes, grabbing the supplies for her stitches off of a metal tray.
"You said you punched a tree?"
Wednesday was suspicious of the woman's sudden interest, but nodded. The nurse could probably tell her where you were anyhow. She didn't like making friends, but she could at least make allies. She had called you one of her allies when you had asked. Remembering that hurt now.
"Yes,” she replied, a bit annoyed with the question.
"Why'd you do that, then?"
"I needed to come here. It's important." The nurse began to stitch her up, and Wednesday flinched at the sudden contact.
"What’s important about here?"
Wednesday glanced down at her soaked, dirty shoes. "There's someone staying here I need to see." The nurse looked up at her then, studying her carefully.
"You're here for that kid that came in after being attacked." Wednesday swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. The nurse sighed, wrinkles filling her forehead as she finished up Wednesday's middle finger and moving to her ring finger, holding up the pad to the light. "They were rushed into emergency surgery about twenty minutes ago. You'll have to wait here a while, and just to warn you: it isn’t pretty." Wednesday sent a small glance to her, one that spoke of a timidness the situation had drawn out of her that wasn't previously there.
“Why don't you go home for the night? Get yourself cleaned off and dry."
She shook her head at the woman, frown deep and telling. "I need to be here when they wake up. They don't have anyone else. Both of their parents are deceased, and I need to be there for them."
"I'm sure they would appreciate you coming this far, honey. They're very lucky to have someone who cares for them as much as you do. I've been a nurse for a loooong time, and trust me when I say you've done plenty."
She certainly had not. Wednesday was not immune to the morbid irony of the situation at hand. In reality, she had cared all too much, pretended that she cared not at all, and tricked you for the longest time into thinking she cared too little. Caring had gotten her nowhere- worse, it had gotten you into an ambulance.
"I'm...worried," she struggled to spit the word out at the nurse, who looked at her with soft eyes of encouragement. "I've said some things, that I don’t think I’ll be able to apologise for."
"Shhh," the nurse hummed, finishing Wednesday's final knuckle and taking out some bandages to wrap around the raw skin. "You'll get the chance."
“I’m not sure I will,” Wednesday's frowned deepened. Her lip threatened to quiver a bit, but it was true. She had been so foolish to bring you along- so selfish to allow you to push the bounds of your own safety. It sat lodged in her stomach like a tumour, growing and growing.
If this is what it meant to love you, Wednesday wasn't sure she was ready.
The older woman gave her a sad smile. "Look, there's no shame in making mistakes. The shame is in being too proud to ask for forgiveness for them," she said, standing up from her chair. "They'll be in room 304, I think. Should be out of surgery in a couple hours, in case you want to…”
“I’m not leaving,” Wednesday insisted. And she didn’t, for a while.
Very little could spook an Addams, especially one such as Wednesday, but she had decided it was all too much, seeing you after surgery. It was an utterly horrific sight. Had it been anyone else, Wednesday would be staring at the intricacies of the scars waiting patiently to form, marvelling at the magic of twisted skin and scabs. But no, it was you in that bed, wheeled right in, and she felt the rare urge to vomit.
You were hooked up to so many machines. Buzzing, whirring, and beeping were the only things keeping you alive, and it served as a painful reminder for everything that could have been lost.
A ventilator sat over your mouth, covering your soft lips and strapped to your jaw. Live, it said, as did the several needles and monitors that were hooked into the skin of your hands and arms. There was too much surface area covered. Wednesday, even if she had wanted to, couldn't have held your hand.
Blood was still very much crusted to the planes of your skin in parts, or at least what was visible of it behind your bandages. The white cotton sat in squares and rectangles, taped to your chest and along the stretch of your cheeks and face. You would never be the same, and Wednesday knew it then.
Always, you would bear the evidence of the attack when someone saw you for the first time and winced a bit, and Wednesday held herself as partially responsible. Her love was too thick to sit in. Wednesday Addams swallowed the tears she would deny crying.
She sat with you an hour, then she walked down to the payphone on the corner and called Enid as the sun finally settled for the morning sky.
===+++===
In the three weeks since your attack, you had yet to wake up. The doctors said it was a coma, and that they had no idea when you would wake, if at all, and that only made Wednesday feel worse. She had gone to visit you before, after, and sometimes even during class. Her own hand had healed nicely, though there would be a permanent scar over the knuckle of her index finger from a particularly nasty cut,
On one visit, Enid had said it was as if you "were sleeping," but Wednesday couldn't disagree more. When you slept, it was on your side with your mouth, open, snoring softly. No, instead, you looked like a dead body. Even after acquainted with the room, Wednesday still felt a great pain in her chest upon seeing you every day like that.
Principal Weems had been more than angry, discovering another student had been hospitalised as a result of Wednesday's actions. She was also worried, and annoyingly tried to sign Wednesday up for more sessions with Kinbott.
That wasn't what Wednesday needed, and she shrugged it off as such, every time Kinbott tried to bring up what happened to you, like she was waiting for her to burst into tears. An Addams didn’t cry. Instead Wednesday let the guilt eat her alive.
She also hungered for vengeance. Strewn across her floor was a giant mental map of everything involved in the case, from photos of the bodies (Enid had fainted twice) to crime scenes, and even potential suspects, all laid out accordingly.
As soon as visiting hours were over, she bid you adieu and threw on your yellow raincoat that still smelled like you, before heading out into the dark to solve the mystery. Maybe it was a way to say she was sorry, maybe it was a manifestation of you potentially never waking up- Wednesday didn't know.
What was even more frustrating was how she knew you held the final puzzle piece. She wasn't a fool- your ability to see into the thoughts of those around you was probably what had caused the attempt on your life in the first place. You had intentionally placed yourself in harms way, then, turning off your abilities for her.
You were incredibly powerful for one so laissez-faire about life- a fact that only offended Wednesday more, as you had been the target and not her, or someone else. You, who had just worn your heart on your sleeve to her, listened to her throw it away, and then immediately gotten attacked. You didn't deserve that, just as much as Wednesday didn't deserve you.
Then came the question of what you did deserve to hear when you awoke. If she was such an excellent writer, why couldn't she think of what to say to you if that ever happened? It still didn't feel good enough, no matter how many times she rewrote the letters or changed the order of the sentences. Nothing seemed to feel good enough.
===+++===
Around the fourth week, Wednesday began to leave you long thoughts, like diary entries. She didn't even know if you could hear her, from in there. You had been taken off a ventilator and it looked as if you were finally starting to level out a bit. Wednesday didn't know why, but she suspected you could hear her thoughts.
So she started thinking to you.
It had started small, at first. 'Today is the twenty-sixth day of you being asleep, you know. If you don't wake up, I swear I'll kill you.' She didn't even know if you could actually hear her, or if you'd want to, considering your last interaction. Wednesday itched to talk to you again, and her recounts grew longer and longer.
'Today is the twenty-eighth day of you still not waking up. Mayor Walker passed, yesterday. I have my suspicions of Xavier. He seems to meet with Dr. Kinbott frequently, and it's possible she's Laurel Gates. I'm not sure if I told you about this yesterday, but I summoned my ancestor a few days ago, Goody Addams, and she warned me of the Gates Mansion.'
'Today marks an official month, 31 days, of you not being awake yet. My Uncle Fester is in town. He sends his regards, by the way. He's the bald one I spoke of before, and he was eager to meet you... Enid and I visited the Gates' Mansion with Tyler. We were attacked and Tyler was injured. I know that may alarm you, but I assure you, I'm fine... If you don't wake up... I'll curse you forever.'
She didn't mean it.
‘Today is day thirty six and you’re still not awake. Enid will be waiting with you while I go confront Xavier and have him arrested. You must forget this when you wake, but I miss you… I’m not proud of it but I do. I said I wouldn’t care for you this way but look at me now. You didn’t spoil anything, (Y/n). If you said you loved me now, I would say it back. Give me the chance to say it then, or else.’
Wednesday waited patiently for another minute, hoping even a little bit that her mind would spark you to life. When nothing happened she sighed just as she had every previous day. Enid gave her a sad smile.
“Go get him, Wends. We’ll both be here when you get back,” she said. Wednesday glared at the use of the nickname, but grabbed your yellow raincoat off the back of her chair, shrugging the oversized jacket on and heading out the door. If there was one thing she thought would make amends, it would be catching your attacker and achieving revenge all on her own.
Of course, thirty seconds later, when Wednesday was long gone, you shot up right like a rocket, and Enid let out a scream.
===+++===
You were climbing, it felt like. You weren’t sure what, but you were pulling yourself up and out of something, pads of your fingers gripping the surface and lifting. It was one clutch after the other, and you had no idea how long or where you could possibly be climbing to.
Were you dead? That was entirely possible. You had blacked out with Tyler’s claws ripping and tearing at your chest and come-to in the back of the ambulance as it sped towards the hospital. A nervous-looking paramedic stood over you, casting a shadow over your eyes, and from there you had passed out again. Maybe you had died then.
Of course, it was a possibility. Not a welcome one, but it was still a possibility. Either way, you had to figure out a way to warn Wednesday about Tyler. Maybe if you just kept climbing. Time seemed to slow down, and it was one hand after another.
There was definitely sound coming from the outside world, and it wrapped around your head in mumbly nonsensical jargon. You recognised the voice, that was definitely Wednesday, and she was definitely close. Every now and again small words like 'Xavier,' or 'Kinbott,' would peek through the mist and you were left to wonder as to why they were relevant.
You climbed a bit harder. The voice would come in and then out again, and you were left wondering if days were passing or maybe it had just been an hour. All you knew was to keep climbing. Your fingers felt raw, your arms ached to stop, but you kept going to keep Wednesday safe, wether she wanted you to or not.
Before you knew it, a hand came forward for the last time, and it was like a button had been pressed. Suddenly, you weren't in any void, or any back of an ambulance, you were in a bland hospital room, sitting straight up and looking right at a mortified Enid.
"Oh my god!" She yelled out, pointing at you in surprise. "OH MY GOD!!!" 'WHAT THE FUCK!!!!'
"TYLER!" You yelled back.
"WHAT?!" Enid yelled.
"IT'S TYLER! And hi!"
Enid fainted again, just in time for a nurse to rush in upon noticing you were awake.
===+++===
One thing you had missed dearly whilst in a coma were fruit cups. You sat rather contentedly, eating a mango fruit cup in your soft hospital bedsheets and leaning back against a checkered pillow. From around you in the hospital, noise buzzed in your mind. It felt good to have your blinders off for once, even if it meant you had to focus in on Enid and the noise directly in the room with you.
"Thirty six days???" you asked. Enid nodded.
"Wednesday- I mean all of us 'But mostly Wednesday', were worried sick that you wouldn't wake up. Are you okay? What was it like in there?" 'How the hell are you still alive???'
You shrugged. "Not really sure. I just remember my arms hurt and I was in this void-thing, trying to pull myself out..." You grew serious. "I need to speak to Wednesday."
Enid leaned forward. "And you're sure it was Tyler? He doesn't seem like he could hurt a fly."
"I saw him, Enid. He was covered in blood and he was in his own head thinking about the attack and how pleased Laurel would be for him to succeed. It's him."
"Wednesday thinks it's Xavier," she said. You shook your head.
"She's wrong. I know she's sweet on Tyler, but-"
"-She's not sweet on Tyler, (Y/n). 'You CANNOT still believe that after all of this...though I guess you were comatose' I've said this since the beginning of the year, you bozo. She's sweet on you, and you two are such idiots running around and pretending like you don't know."
The painful memory of your final interaction before the attack came back in waves, pulling you under and tugging you into the deep. You cleared your scratchy throat, still sore from its lack of use. "Enid, Wednesday made it perfectly clear how she felt about me."
Enid rolled her eyes. "You two, I swear you're going give me grey hair. Oh! Speaking of appearances," she sat up. "You haven't seen how you look yet!"
You frowned, not entirely sure you wanted to. You knew you had facial scars- the sharp slashes to your nose and cheeks were enough to know that now, but you weren't sure how much you wanted to see them. Enid pulled out her phone camera, flipping it around to selfie mode.
It wasn't as bad as you thought- a giant twist of a scar curved around the apple of your cheek before reaching up through the lateral third of your eyebrow and stopping shortly after. Another crisscrossed over the bridge of your nose. Still bad, though. They were noticeable, and those were only the ones on your face. You frowned, and Enid seemed to regret asking to show you them. 'I just messed up, didn't I.'
'Oh my, cara mia' said someone's noise in the doorway. You looked up, hearing her arrive, and there she was. Wednesday stood looking almost nervous, hands crossed over her chest awkwardly, like she was uncertain if she was welcome. You tensed. "You're awake," she said.
You nodded. Then you did Wednesday a favour and turned your own noise off to give her the privacy she coveted. Wednesday sent a look over at Enid who just stared. When the werewolf didn't take the hint, Wednesday cleared her throat.
"Oh! Sorry, sorry," said Enid, standing sheepishly. "I guess I'll just go get some food from the cantina...even though I already ate and want to see how this happens," she muttered. Wednesday sent her a much sharper glare, and Enid scurried out of the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Wednesday spun to you. "If you died, I would have killed you."
"I know," you nodded. "Enid told me you were here all the time." She frowned.
"Never speak of that again," Wednesday said, seeming almost embarrassed. "Enid wasn't supposed to tell you that."
"She's not really good at keeping secrets. You probably shouldn't have told her anything if-"
"-Did you hear them, when you were in there?" She asked, cutting you off mid-sentence with what she had really been wondering the entire time, but too nervous to ask. You blinked.
"Hear what?" If she had been saying important things to you whilst you were under, you didn't know what she was referring to. The look on Wednesday's face was unintelligible.
"I said some important things, (Y/n)," she said, fidgeting with her fingers. "I sent them through my thoughts."
"You also said some important things before I was attacked, Wednesday. You called me a lost puppy."
"I know," she replied. "I was worried this very thing would happen if I didn't."
You snorted cynically. "Looks like it happened when you did, actually." She looked wounded by that, and now you felt bad. "I didn't mean it that way, Wends, I'm just trying to warn you-"
"I love you too," she said.
Any thoughts or words you potentially could have come back with were lost, slipping through your fingers and tumbling to the floor. Wednesday took a step closer, placing her hand on the bed next to you, flipping it over to show you her knuckles. A few small pink scars littered the skin there. You picked it up in your own, brushing over them with your thumb.
"I meant it. I love you too. Even with your scars- which are magnificent." Wednesday thought for a moment, then looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you with a love that is more than love."
"That's Edgar Allan Poe," you whispered. She nodded, then she swallowed, forcing the words out.
"I see now, that I was...wrong. I have been deceitful, and I have been unkind. I pushed you away when you deserve much more than that- likely much more than me. I cannot express how earnest my regret is, and just how much I want your forgiveness-"
"Yeah yeah, stop talking like an old English guy," you said with a laugh, pulling her scarred hand to your lips. You sat up a little bit more, and though it hurt, you pressed your lips to her palm. When you pulled away a moment later, she kissed you full-force. Her hand moved to your neck, playing with the hair there and delivering the perfect amount of gentle longing that made you fall back against the pillow.
She pulled away all too soon again, but the small smile that teased the corner of her mouth spoke of future ones to come. "You said you were going to warn me of something?" She said in between attempts to catch your breath. You raised your eyebrows, remembering the dire information at hand.
"Oh, yeah, Tyler attacked me," you said, leaning your neck back against the pillow.
"What?!" Wednesday said, pulling away with her eyes as angry as ever. "Why didn't you lead with that??" She didn't want to believe it, but she knew you wouldn't lie.
"I got there eventually, and you needed to apologise!"
Wednesday sighed, shaking her head. Though she would never admit it, she did truly miss your ridiculousness. "Anything else?"
"The master of the creature-"
"-It's called a Hyde," Wednesday corrected you.
"Yeah, that. The master of the creature wears red boots. I saw it in Tyler's vision."
The girl in black stood up, heading for the door. "Thank you, cara mia. I'll be back when this is over."
"Go get 'em tiger." She turned to you, unimpressed.
"Shut up."
"Yeah yeah, love you."
After a moment she sighed. "I love you too."
thank you all so much for your support on this story! i absolutely will be writing again, and am here to stay. i cannot thank you all enough, and as always, PLEASE tell me or message me about any typos as i will fix them ASAP. i'll definitely come back and change this later if i feel like it. i tried not to rush the ending but was also majorly conflicted as to where i should leave it off. so if it bugs me later down the line, i'll change it.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday netflix#wednesday addams#jenna ortega#jenna ortega imagine
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boy mom abby save me. save me boy mom abby.
Lemme yearn for a sec. I went apple picking and to the pumpkin patch this weekend and it inspired this.
"Abby, hold him still!"
Your wife braces herself against the wall as the two year old in her arms starts failing around even harder, almost slipping out of her grasp. "What do you think I'm doing?"
The two of you giggle as you try to get the tiny jeans up his legs with little success. The toddler using his feet to kick them off as soon as you get his leg in. One particularly hard kick has you moving out of the way just a second before his foot can connect with your stomach. The quick movement making you wince when you feel a sharp pain in your lower back. Abby quickly sets him down, crouching down rub at the sore spot. The sound of his footprints loud as he wobbles away barefoot and pantsless.
"I'm fine." You grab at the blonde's hands on your bump. "Just moved too fast is all."
She nods, giving the top of your head a quick peck before following the sound of a toy blaring from the other room. With newfound determination, she quietly sneaks up on the toddler, scooping him up and gently dropping him on the couch. His dinosaur like screech pierces your ears. You watch her struggle for a second as she maneuvers him into the pair of overalls while explaining why kicking at mama was bad.
"Ha!"
She holds out your son, now fully dressed in a long sleeve and jean overalls. His blonde hair is disheveled and the little knit cardigan you'd tossed at her last minute was unbuttoned, but he was making no move to pull it off so you'd take it. The smug grin is wiped off her face when she sees you sheepishly holding up the little boots and olive green jacket that he'd finally grown into. He breaks loose again, clearly not a fan of the added layer. She rolls her eyes, playfully snatching them out of your hands as she takes off after him down the hall.
"Leave it to you to pick out an outfit with nothing but buttons."
"What are all those muscles for if not to wrangle toddlers?" You quip.
---
"Oh my god, no! Don't put that in your mouth!"
Warm pastry in hand, you watch Abby chase your son around from where you rest on one of the benches outside the small shop on the farm. Whoever decided a corn pit was good entertainment had clearly never dealt with small children. You smile into your cup as your wife grabs the toddler's small fist away from his mouth and prying it open, letting the small pile of corn fall to the ground, only for him to take two steps away from her and pick more up.
Your pumpkins had already been picked and loaded in your trunk. Abby took her sweet time of course, wanting to choose the perfect ones for your front porch. You recall the conversation you'd had as she carried a medium sized pumpkin to the nearby wheelbarrow.
"This is kinda heavy."
You hum unimpressed, gesturing with your free hand to the large swell of your seven month pregnant belly. "Try having that strapped to your stomach and pushing on your bladder twenty-four seven."
The blonde winces. "You're absolutely amazing."
She acted like she didn't hear your mostly empty threats of saran wrapping one to her as she picked up the pace, pretending to have found 'the one' just a few rows down.
You rub at your lower back, too pregnant to be doing this much. Your eyes flutter shut at the temporary relief. After a full day filled with apple picking, a petting zoo, and trying to keep up with an energetic toddler and dog during various activities, you were wiped.
"You okay?"
Abby stands in front of you, holding a sleepy toddler in her arms. Your family dog, Alice, following closely at her side. His head is tucked in her neck, fist rubbing at his eyes that are struggling to stay open. The sight of their matching flushed cheeks and pouty lips makes you smile. She can't help but feel guilty for dragging you out here. You look exhausted.
"Yeah. Just resting my feet."
"The last tractor ride of the day is about to start, but I think we've all had enough for the day." She helps you up, grabbing the basket of apples you'd picked and holding it out of reach when you try to grab it. "I got it baby. Just grab on to my arm, and focus on not slipping."
Stubborn as ever, you pull the leash from her hand. Grabbing her by the collar of her jacket, you reach up to press your cold lips to hers. "Love you."
Sometime later as she slowly drives down the windy mountain roads, Abby looks over at you. Your head is resting on the window, one hand in hers and the other resting atop your bump. The even up and down of your chest lets her know you're asleep. In the rearview mirror she's met with the sweet sight of her son's hand resting on Alice's head. He'd most likely fallen asleep whilst petting her. The dog content enough with the contact to not move when Abby looks at her.
To think this time next year, there'll be another car seat back there. Another little boy to love. She looks back your sleeping face, bringing your joined hands up, pressing kisses to the back of your hand as she continues down the road home. The diamond of your ring rough against her lips.
You'd given her everything she's ever dreamed of. As she pulls into the driveway she can't help but think life truly couldn't get better than this.
#REAL YEARNERS TO THE FRONT#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x you#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson x you
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bike chase
𝜗𝜚 GENRE: fluff, established (secret) relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!dino x idol!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 2.2k
SYNOPSIS: you are his secret, and he is yours. so what happens when a paparazzi catches you on a date?
“fix your hat, baby.”
“huh?” chan looked up from his phone, his handsome face on full display. if you could have it your way, you’d never let him wear anything to cover the bright eyes, and beautiful smile that you fell in love with (hiding a face like that was technically a crime), but in your world it was impossible. as much as you’d wish to show off your boyfriend, and you knew chan was dying to share your pictures on his instagram as well, you were grateful you could make it work anyway.
not every idol was as lucky as you were.
“your hat,” you sighed, and kicked the kickstand down so your bike wouldn’t fall. your boyfriend was still focused on his phone when you grabbed his face to fix the bucket hat so it would properly cover his face. “we have to be careful, remember.”
the chance of bumping into someone was slim, like - there was a reason why you went on a biking trip at 2 am - it was the only time you had an illusion of privacy. it was just a matter of time before someone would recognise you anyway, but at least you could hold hands without being paranoid about the people around you. ever since the Han River incident last month when some paps recognised you (and took some quite unflattering pics, in your opinion), you learned your lesson to step up on your dressing up as undercover spies game. thankfully the photos were so blurry that your companies had no problem with denying the rumours.
“thank you,” chan mumbled, and placed a peck on your forehead. you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth - he looked way too endearing with his concentrated expression, but he was the one to insist that he’d manage to find your way back home. you were officially banned from helping him.
“how’s it going?” you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “will i sleep in my bed today or do i need to find a comfortable bench for the night?”
“hey, have some faith in me,” he whined, finally looking up from his phone. “it’s not my fault the maps aren’t working. look,” he showed you the open map app he’d been struggling with for the past twenty minutes as if to prove that he wasn’t not the problem here, “the service sucks here.”
“maybe we should’ve invested in some old fashioned maps,” you sighed, and leaned your head on chan’s shoulder.
being up at the late hour wasn’t something unusual for the both of you, but you wouldn’t lie - after a full day of schedules and rehearsals you were getting kind of tired. not to mention you were biking for the past hour, so being stuck in the middle of nowhere was not an ideal situation for you.
as if chan noticed your energy dropping, he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. “tired?” he asked, his mouth brushing your cheek.
“a bit.”
“i’m sorry. it was my idea to go on a bike ride, we should’ve just stayed home.”
you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s annoying habit of apologising for every small thing he thinks he's done wrong. “listen to me, lee chan,” you grabbed his chin, and rolled up the front of his bucket hat, so you could see him properly. “if i have to be stuck with someone, i’m happy that it’s you. besides, i agreed to the whole biking trip, so please - stop apologising.”
he gave you a smile, clearly still feeling a bit guilty. there weren't many things you could do together without being seen, so chan took it upon himself to come up with fun, yet safe ways to spend your dates without being noticed. not that you needed it - as long as you were with him, what you did didn't matter, but your boyfriend had a heart of gold, so you couldn't tell him he didn't have to try so hard.
“i love you,” the sincerity in his voice made you melt every time he said those three words. you’d never get bored of hearing them in person, not when you usually got them through messages or phone calls.
“love you too,” you said, and kissed his lips softly, before rolling down the front of his hat. “but channie?”
“hm?”
“maybe i can help you after all. i’m sure we’ll figure the maps out together.”
“yeah i think that’s a good idea,” he let out a quiet giggle, and lowered the phone so you could see the screen. you put your arm around his waist, because your boyfriend’s personal space was also your personal space, and you quickly fell into a comfortable silence. if your legs weren’t aching, and tummy rumbling from the lack of food, you’d tease chan for giving up on his big boy job to get you home, but you didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty than he was already feeling.
it was kind of ironic how you wanted to get away from the hussle of the city, and now ended up god knows where.
“did you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning his head towards the trees.
you followed his gaze to where he was looking, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. “no, i don’t think so. maybe you just heard an animal or something,” you said. usually you weren't easily scared, chan was the scaredy-cat in your relationship, but the dark surroundings and lack of people did their job. especially since the boy in front of you suddenly acted like he had seen a ghost.
"i could’ve sworn," he muttered, looking around, "that i heard the clicking of a camera."
hearing this, you took a better look around you, because the sound of the camera didn't mean anything good in your case.
"are you sure…" and that's when you heard it too.
click.
"chan?" you looked at your boyfriend, panicked. "what now?"
the boy grabbed your chin so that you wouldn't accidentally turn towards the person who apparently liked to follow people at night and take photos of them.
“don't turn around and listen to me,” chan swallowed, “we'll get on our bikes and leave.”
if you weren't panicked enough before, you definitely were now. "and this is your great plan?" you shouted at him quietly, as if the person hiding in the bushes could hear you.
"do you have a better idea, honey?"
you shook your head because no, you didn't, so all you really had was chan’s mistermind plan. running away from the paparazzi sounded crazy though, like something out of a bad rom-com, but what else were you supposed to do? the worst part was that you didn't know how long this person had been following you, or if they had just noticed you - and whether they realised who you actually were.
"on three?" chan ran his thumb along your chin. a small smirk appeared on his face, as if the idea of escaping on a bike was the best date idea ever.
nodding, you took a few steps back to blindly find the handle of your bike. you finally managed to find the kickstand too and kicked it up, now fully ready for the craziest thing you were going to do this week.
"one."
everything will be fine.
"two."
what could go wrong?
"three!"
as if burned, you turned around, making sure to keep your head down so that your face wasn't visible, and jumped on the bike. you had never started pedalling so fast, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you more energy than ever. you just had time to turn around to see if the person had come out of the bushes to follow you, but you didn't see anything.
with new energy, you kept following your boyfriend, who, like you, was pedalling as fast as he could. what a pity that chan was a born dancer with thighs and an ass that many men envied, which meant you had to pedal twice as fast. what fun.
"i think we lost him!" you shouted so that he could hear you.
chan turned around with a huge smile on his face and you couldn't help but laugh. your hair was swirling around your face, and you had to grab your head to keep your own hat from falling off - that’s how fast you were running away from your new friend. who would have thought that the night would end like this.
but suddenly, the smile on your boyfriend's face disappeared and was replaced by an expression of surprise and horror at the same time.
"he's on a bike!" he shouted.
what?!
you quickly looked behind you, a little scared of what you might see. and damn chan, but he wasn't wrong - the guy, even though he was a bit behind you, was riding a bike with a camera over his shoulder.
he looked comical, although you suspected you two didn't look any better.
"faster," chan shouted and turned to see where he was going, "we have to lose him!"
now it was no longer looking like a rom-com but a low-budget action movie with very bad actors and an even worse villain. you couldn't wait to do a live talking about how you ran away from some random dude on a bike.
your thighs burned like hell, and you felt like you were slowly getting out of breath, but it didn't slow you down at all. you mentally thanked yourself for all those hours spent at the gym, though you’d never think they’d come in handy for a bike chase.
“are you okay?” you heard chan yell.
“yeah, keep going.”
you wouldn’t let a weirdo with a camera beat you.
you finally entered an area where buildings started to appear, and without thinking, you followed the boy in front of you as he turned into an alley that looked more than suspicious.
"is he still there?"
you glanced behind you and like a maniac, the guy with the camera was still pedalling.
"yes!"
"is he serious?"
you drove through the street and entered another one, making a sharp turn. it's a good thing you two weren't driving a car because you didn't know how much you could’ve trusted chan in a car chase. your boyfriend was driving fifty kilometres an hour, even when the limit was seventy.
a few turns later, you turned around again to see how far your friend was, and luckily he wasn't as fit as you, because you didn't see him anywhere. poor fella probably got tired.
"i think we lost him!"
chan nodded but didn't slow down. who knew where this paparazzi could suddenly appear from. but to be honest, if you could you’d applaud him for his dedication, not everyone had the drive to chase two idols on a random tuesday night through the streets of seoul.
"baby," chan suddenly stopped and got off the bike. because of how fast you were going, your brakes squeaked when you pressed them. "come here." the boy jumped off his bike and looked at you before disappearing into the narrow alley.
you didn't even want to ask what he was doing, so without any questions you got off your bike and went in the direction where your boyfriend had just disappeared. the alley was very narrow, barely able to fit the two of you, let alone your bikes, but you somehow managed to hide yourselves, so you weren't visible from the main street.
"why..." but before you could finish your question, you heard someone panting, and a second later, right next to you, the paparazzi who had been chasing you for the last fifteen minutes biked past.
you snorted and poked your head out to make sure that the guy disappeared, or if he maybe had decided to look for you here. luckily he wasn't smart enough, and was nowhere in sight.
you looked at your boyfriend, who like you was out of breath, but oh so pleased with himself.
"you don't have to thank me," he said, and as if on cue, that annoyingly handsome smirk returned to his face.
“you idiot,” you huffed and pushed his arm.
"i told you today would be fun," he said and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. now that your adrenaline was starting to wear off and you felt how exhausted you actually were, you realised how close you and chan were.
yes, you were both sweaty and smelly as hell, and there were beads of sweat dripping from your boyfriend's forehead, but he seemed as handsome to you as ever. his messy hair, his chest rapidly rising up and down, the sleeves of his compression shirt hugging his strong biceps - he was a sight for sore eyes.
and only for you to see.
"you're right, lover boy," you said, because it was true. despite all your fear, you didn't think the guy managed to get any decent photos, and you'd worry about your companies later and in the end, you had a great time. "but do you know what?"
"what?" chan smiled cockily and leaned towards you.
just as he was about to kiss you, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.
"we still have to get home somehow."
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#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt reactions#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#lee chan#lee chan fluff#chan fluff#dino fluff#dino seventeen#svt dino#dino x reader#dino x you#dino x y/n#lee chan x reader#lee chan x you#seventeen reaction#seventeen headcanons
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‘Til The End of The Line
Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Mentions of blood, shooting and getting hurt
Summary: You get injured in a mission, and Bucky cannot bear to see you in such state.
Author's Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.
I am so sorry for being gone (school’s been killing me)
I appreciate every feedback! Thank you for reading, enjoy!
“Ready to kick some ass, kiddo?” Steve’s voice was calm, almost soothing, but you could hear the adrenaline beneath his words as the two of you adjusted your parachutes. The jet engines hummed around you, a subtle reminder of the mission ahead.
You grinned, giving your suit one last check and tightening your grip on the gun in your hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna beat the shit out of them.”
Steve smiled, not bothering to correct your language. With him, you were always an exception.
Moments later, the wind was whipping against your face as you both jumped from the jet, splitting off into the night sky. Steve took the left wing—the more dangerous side—leaving you the right. Tony had assured you it was safer, but as you slid through the narrow gap in the door, the freezing cold hit you like a wall. The air inside was frigid, bitterly reminding you of Bucky’s stories about the winters he hated so much.
“As far as I can see, it’s clear here. How’s the situation there?” Steve’s voice crackled through the comms, full of concern. You knew he cared for you deeply, saw you as the daughter he never had, and would have taken a bullet to ensure your safety.
“It’s clear here too, Cap,” you replied, trying to ease his worry.
“Let’s stick to the plan: I’ll draw out the agents while you head straight to the operations room and grab their file IV data.”
“Copy that. Be safe, Cap—and I mean it. If you need help, just call me.”
“I will, kiddo. Be safe yourself. And promise to call me if you need anything.”
“I promise. Let’s fucking go.”
You raced through the deserted corridors of the right wing, a dagger in one hand and a fully loaded gun tucked into your suit for emergencies. The cold air bit at your skin, the silence amplifying every footstep. Suddenly, a loud, thunderous noise echoed behind you. Instinctively, you thought it was Steve, but it wasn’t. The sound was coming from your side of the building.
Before you could react, you were ambushed by over twenty armed agents.
On the other side of the wing, Steve was facing his own battle. He tossed a grenade down a hallway, expecting a swarm of enemies, but only three agents rushed at him. Something was wrong. There should have been more.
“Shit,” you hissed into the comms, struggling against the overwhelming odds. Steve heard the panic in your voice, but he couldn’t respond—one of the agents had him in a chokehold. His grip tightened on the comms as he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, followed by a loud thud that made his blood run cold.
“Kiddo, you okay?” Steve managed to gasp out, but all he got in return was a pained groan.
“I’ll get to you in less than a minute, I promise,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. He could hear your labored breathing through the comms, and it was tearing him apart.
“Steve…” Your voice was faint, each word a struggle.
“Hmm?” he replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the dread clawing at his chest.
“Are the comms… still being recorded?”
Steve’s heart sank. He knew what you were doing, and he hated it. “Yes, kiddo, if there weren’t any changes to the plans, it’s on record.”
You exhaled shakily, the breath catching in your throat. There was only one person you needed to reach out to. “Buck…”
As soon as Steve heard the name, he knew the weight of what you were about to say. Even after four years of being together, Bucky’s name still brought shivers to your spine, thick with emotion.
“If by any chance you get to listen to this, Buck—”
“Y/N, kiddo, no, you’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”
“You don’t know that…” Your voice was helpless, a reflection of your dwindling strength.
“Just stay there. I’m on my way. Please, don’t give up on us.”
But a part of Steve knew this might be your last moment. It was an instinct, a gut-wrenching feeling that he couldn’t shake. So he didn’t stop you from saying what you needed to.
“If you get a chance to listen to this…” You fought to keep your eyes open, tears mingling with the blood on the cold metal floor. Your mind flashed with the future you had imagined—a life with Bucky, growing old together, watching your children grow up. “In another life, we might—maybe we could have grown old together.”
Steve’s heart clenched as your voice wavered. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, but he knew there was nothing he could do except listen.
“I wish I could have given you babies,” you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. “Watched them grow in our backyard… I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to give you that life.”
Your vision blurred as sleepiness started to consume you. You fought against it with everything you had, but the darkness was closing in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that this is how it ends for us… I’m really sorry.”
“And if this is how it really ends… Promise me you’ll find someone else to love, to open up to. Find someone else… Call someone else ‘doll.’ And don’t grieve too much.”
The darkness was overwhelming now. You felt it pulling you under, felt the life draining from your body as blood poured from your wounds. “You deserve to be happy… And the past doesn’t—doesn’t define you.”
Your last words were barely a whisper. “I… Love you, Buck. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that more often.”
And then… silence. The darkness consumed you, and Steve heard nothing but the empty static of the comms. He refused to believe it, refused to accept that you were gone. He sprinted through the hallways, throwing open every door until he found you, lying motionless on the floor, your suit stained crimson with blood.
He scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, his legs pumping with every ounce of energy he had left. The jet’s engines hummed steadily, but inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Steve knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he assessed your injuries. The bullets had done their damage—one near your heart, another through your stomach, and the last through your left arm. Blood pooled beneath you, soaking through your suit.
“Kiddo, hang in there, please,” Steve murmured, his voice tight with fear. He grabbed the medical kit from the overhead compartment, spilling its contents across the floor. His hands worked quickly, tearing open a pack of gauze and pressing it firmly against the wounds. The bleeding was relentless, and he knew he needed to act fast to save your life.
You were pale, your breathing shallow and irregular. It was a miracle you were still breathing at all. Steve knew he had to stabilize you before they landed, or you wouldn’t make it. His mind raced through the limited medical training he had received—enough to get through emergencies, but nothing like this.
He fumbled with an IV kit, his hands shaking as he tried to insert the needle into your arm. Your veins were fragile, but after what felt like an eternity, he got it in. He attached a bag of saline solution, knowing it was only a temporary measure.
“Stay with me, kiddo. Buck won’t be so happy about this,” Steve whispered, his voice trembling. Your pulse was faint, but still there. He applied more pressure to the wound, checking if you were breathing again. It was labored, but there were no signs of a collapsed lung, thank God.
He grabbed the portable oxygen mask and gently placed it over your mouth and nose, adjusting the flow to give you the support you desperately needed. Your chest rose and fell slightly more steadily—a small victory amid the chaos.
With one hand still applying pressure to the wound, Steve fumbled with the jet’s communications system. “Friday, please check if the team is ready for immediate surgery.”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Stark has everything prepared, and Dr. Cho is on standby.”
“Can you connect me directly to Tony?”
“Connecting now, sir.”
“Cap, how is she?” Tony’s voice crackled through, tense with concern.
“I think I stabilized her. We’re landing in three minutes, max. Thank God this jet has autopilot, or else… she wouldn’t have made it.”
Tony was silent for a moment. It wasn’t the time for pride or self-congratulation. He was kicking himself for not being more cautious, for not having medics onboard, for underestimating the mission. You were the youngest, the brightest member of the Avengers, and he couldn’t bear to lose you.
Steve checked the wound again. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. He packed the wound with more gauze, securing it tightly. You needed a blood transfusion, surgery—everything he couldn’t provide here. All he could do was keep you stable until they landed.
“Tony, do me one favor,” Steve said, his voice thick as he wiped the blood from your cheeks. “Please… Don’t let Bucky see her like this. He won’t be able to handle it.”
But Tony’s response was firm. “Sorry, Cap. James already knows. He’s waiting at the airbase. And he has the right to see her.”
Steve nodded, though his heart ached at the thought. “Okay, Tony, thanks… We’re almost there.”
The jet descended, the lights of the airbase coming into view. Steve cradled you close, whispering words of comfort that he wasn’t sure you could hear. “We’re going to make it, kiddo. Just hold on a little longer.”
As the jet landed, the hatch opened to reveal Tony, Dr. Cho, and Bucky. Bucky’s face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of you. Steve gently handed you over to Dr. Cho and her team, who rushed you to the medical bay. Bucky stood frozen, staring at the blood that covered Steve’s hands and suit.
“She’s alive, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice raw with exhaustion. “But she needs you now more than ever. Don’t lose hope.”
Bucky nodded, swallowing hard. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the sight of you lying there so still. He followed the team as they wheeled you into surgery, praying with everything he had left that you would survive this.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
THERE’S GOING TO BE A PART 2 by Sunday
Part 2 is up y’all
#bucky#bucky angst#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fluff#mcu x reader#mcu imagine#marvel#steve x reader#bucky fluff#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#avengers x reader#fanfics#bucky x reader fluff#fluff#angst with a happy ending#angst#james bucky buchanan barnes#steve rogers#tony stark
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came out of surgery and was just imagining pre-outbreak joel high on anesthesia, being all cute and flirty with the reader 🥺🥺 can I request that as a fic??? 👉👈
AN | Oh but this would be one of the funniest situations!
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language; mention of surgery
Word Count | 2.4k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Joel huffed, looking at you almost as if to make sure you were really making him go through with it. Not that you'd forced him or anything but…still. He did not want to do this.
“It'll be fine you big baby,” you snorted, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. He groaned slightly at the feeling, rubbing at his sore jaw, “and that's exactly why we're doing this. So you're not in constant pain!”
“I’m a grown ass man,” he was grumbling as he followed out to the car, “I’ve lived 35 years with these stupid teeth and I can continue to live with them.”
“It doesn’t matter how old you are - they’re bothering you and I’m tired of hearing you whine about them,” you opened the passenger door to his truck and motioned for him to get, “you’re going to listen to me, Joel Miller.”
“I do - I do not whine,” with that he got into the truck a big pout on his face as you closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
“It’ll be fine, love. It’ll be done in a few hours, then you can rest and eat ice cream and I’ll take care of you. In a few days to a week you’ll be good as new.”
“But - “
“But nothing,” you turned on the car, “I was in my late twenties when I got mine out a couple of years ago and it was just fine. I survived and you’ll survive.”
“Fine,” he sighed heavily as he stared at the road, “but I want lots of ice cream when it’s done.”
“Then we’ll get all the ice cream, Joel Miller,” you reached over and gave his knee a squeeze, “you big weenie.”
“Stop,” he groaned softly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Mrs. Miller?”
“Oh, I’m…” you stopped yourself and didn’t bother to correct the dental assistant as you stood up and walked over to her, “how did it go?”
“Everything went just fine,” she explained and you relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief, “no complications at all. I think he’ll heal up just fine.”
“I have no doubt about that,” you watched as she walked back to collect Joel, leaving you unsure of what exactly to expect with him. You whispered to yourself, “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery, dramatic of course but full.”
A few minutes later a very drowsy looking Joel walked out, looking around in confusion. It took him a few moments to realize that you were there but as soon as he did, his entire face, as much as you could see of it anyway, lit up, “wow. You’re so pretty!”
You had to work extremely hard not to burst into a bit of giggles at one, how pathetic he looked, and two how muffled and mumbly he sounded. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, tenderly taking it in yours, “hi, my love.”
He looked around for a moment, a confused look in his eyes as he looked around the room to see who you were possibly talking about. Then realization hit him, “you're talking to me?”
“Yes, of course,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, “come on, let's get everything you need and then we can get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home-”
“Together? Do we live together?” He looked so genuinely bewildered that this time you couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped you.
“Yes,” you promised sweetly, “we live together.”
“Wow,” he whispered under his breath, watching as you went to the counter to get everything for him and get any special instructions. While you were listening intently, Joel was looking around at everything in awe, seemingly mesmerized by so many little things.
Once you had written instructions and everything in hand, you turned back to him, only to find him standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours and started to head towards the door, “c’mon, love. We’re all set. You have to come back in about a week for your follow up, but otherwise you’re all set.”
“Why do I have to come back?” he trailed alongside you, words still muffled from the cotton in his mouth, “I don’t want to come back.”
“Honey, you just had surgery and they took your teeth out-”
“My teeth?” he looked horrified for a moment as he reached up and touched his face, which was still partially numb, “they stole my teeth!”
“Oh - I mean, I guess you’re not wrong,” you took his hands gently and shook your head, “they were meant to take them, Joel. They were giving you problems.”
“What if I die without them?” He looked so upset - ridiculously adorable but upset.
“You’re not going to die,” you insisted, “I promise you’re going to be fine. A little uncomfortable for a few days but then you’ll be fine.”
“And you’ll be there?”
“Of course I will,” you helped him into the truck again, “I’ll always be there.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” you could feel his gaze practically burning into you as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store. You’d insisted that you should get him home first so he could rest but he insisted on coming with you so he could pick out exactly what ice cream he wanted and what pudding flavors he liked best. You knew better than to argue with him, even in his current state.
You stopped with your hand halfway into the freezer and gave him a curious expression, “umm, well…pretty sure I’ve heard that a few times before.”
“Well, you should…because it’s true,” he offered you a small, lopsided little smile.
“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” you turned back to the taste at hand, shaking your head lightly to yourself.
Once the cart was loaded up with everything needed for the next few days and you’d snagged the prescription for his antibiotics and pain medication, you head towards the checkout.
Joel appeared to be mostly alright, except for the way he stared at everything and made silly little comments about everything and anything. After you placed everything onto the conveyor belt, you turned around to make sure everything was alright. He waved at you sheepishly before he seemed to get ahead of himself, “do you have a boyfriend?”
Alright…that caught you by surprise. You’d thought he had managed to put the pieces together by now but apparently whatever they had used on him at the dentist’s office was strong. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, “umm…yeah. I do actually…have a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” the look on his face was nothing short of crestfallen, “t-that’s good. I guess.”
You hummed under your breath as you greeted the checker and paid for everything. You grabbed the bags and motioned for him to follow you as you walked back out to the truck, “c’mon Joel! Don’t need you slowing me down!”
“Yeah…coming,” he mumbled as he helped you to load the backs into the backseat of the truck. He got in as soon as you were done, hopping into the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest, “does he treat you good? Your boyfriend?”
“He does,” you promised, absolutely meaning it. Joel was the best friend and partner you’d ever had, “he’s amazing. And I love him a lot.”
“Cool,” and he seemed like he thought it was anything but cool, “cool.”
“Mhmm…”
“I think maybe we should go on a date,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, “we could be good together. I can treat you right.”
“I’m sure you could,” you chuckled as you turned onto your street, “as a matter of fact, I know you could.”
“Then…I…why-”
“Joel Miller, I don’t know if I should be offended or amused that you don’t remember,” you pretended to scoff heavily as you pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, “we’re dating, silly man. You’re the boyfriend. My boyfriend.”
“No way,” his pretty brown eyes lit up with excitement as he pointed in between the two of you, “you’re dating me?”
“I sure am and vice versa,” you grinned happily as you slid out of the driver’s side and started to grab the groceries to bring them inside. He scrambled to keep up with you, eyes practically glued to you, “come on, love. I know you’re staring at my ass, but you can do that any other time. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”
“Yes ma’am,” he came up and grabbed half the bags from you and headed in as soon as you had the door unlocked. You made quick work of putting everything away and ushering him upstairs to the bedroom.
For a small surprise you’d gotten him some comfy new pajamas to wear in his recovery. He claimed that he would be just fine but you knew that he was going to be a big baby. Might as well make it so he would be a comfortable big baby.
“Here you go,” you looked through the top drawer of the dresser and handed him the clean pajamas. He made a small sound of happiness, “go get changed and then into bed for you. You need to rest and need to do less talking.”
“But nothing,” you nudged him towards the bed with your hip, “besides, I guarantee that as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable the tiredness is going to set in and get you. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“But-”
“That’s not gonna happen,” he stripped down and put on the comfy clothes, groaning as he laid down in the soft, clean sheets. You offered him a knowing look as he made himself comfortable. He badly stifled a yawn as you raised an eyebrow, “fine, maybe you’re right.”
“I’ll grab a book and some movies in case you can’t or don’t want to sleep after a while,” you looked him over and made sure everything was in check, “and I’ll grab some water and pain meds.”
“You’re the best,” he was already getting sleepy, partly wishing you’d just get in with him, “‘m lucky you decided to date me. I wanna take you on a date when I feel better.”
“Don’t worry I’m counting on that,” you paused in the doorway for a moment, “I’m lucky to have you too, Joel. Get some rest okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”
“Can I have ice cream soon?”
“Yeah baby,” you grinned softly, “you can have all the ice cream you want later.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got home and Joel settled into bed, you were worn out. You made yourself a snack and sat down on the couch to watch some mindless television. There was ice cream stock piled on the freezer for when he woke up and lots of puddings and broths and yogurts for the next few days ahead. Sarah was still at a friend’s house for the night but you knew that she’d love getting to mess with Joel while he was out of commission.
After a few episodes of the show you’d thrown on, you heard the creak of the stairs. You looked up and found Joel looking at you with a pathetic little expression on his face. You smiled softly in return before motioning for him to come over and join you.
“How’re you feeling, baby?” you lifted the warm blanket and you were under and he snuggled up to you, wasting no time in getting as comfortable as possible.
“‘m okay,” he huffed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “my mouth feels weird and gross and it hurts a little. Otherwise right as rain.”
“You can use that mouthwash they gave after you eat a little something and get some pain medication. You’ll be able to brush your teeth in a day or two,” with the lightest of touches, you ghosted your fingers along his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, “you’re already doing good, Joel. Better than earlier anyway.”
“Oh no,” he groaned softly as you laughed, “how stupid was I acting? I feel like it was a dream, I don’t remember a lot, just bits.”
“Well, you didn’t remember that we were together, then you were shocked that I was living with you. You proceeded to flirt - albeit very badly - with me and tried to get me to agree to go on a date with you. Seemed like you’d do anything for that. When I reminded you that we’re actually already dating - that kind of together - you almost lost it. So yeah, you were something else.”
“Fuck me,” he groaned as he tried to hide his face from you. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink as you giggled, “well that’s embarrassing. Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Nice try,” you shook your head, “I am so telling Sarah when she gets home tomorrow. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Joel Miller.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t baby me, baby,” you placed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You had your fun and now I get to have mine.”
“Fine,” he pouted, already knowing that neither of his girls were ever going to let him forget this, “fine.”
“You ready for some ice cream?” your voice was sticky sweet as you looked him over. He looked somewhere between miserable and thankful and totally in love as you made your way over to the kitchen, “there’s plenty in the freezer!”
“...yes please.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#tlou
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S.I.N.G.
Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader
Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.
AN: Here's another one-shot for the Take Me Home series, set a couple of months after A Crime of Passion. Some of you might get the Miss Congeniality reference. 😂
Word Count: 1.5K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship. Flirty teasing, tinge of angst and trauma/PTSD, spiciness and a side helping of smut.
Catch up on TMH: ⤵️
❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist
“All right, let’s try that again,” said Beau.
You barely resisted the urge to whine like a child. Instead, you grabbed your phone off the coffee table, which you’d pushed up against the couch to make space in the living room.
Your boyfriend frowned and swept his hands up in disbelief when you began scrolling on the little screen.
“Uh, hello?” he said. “Trying to teach here, Professor.”
You Google searched for a new restaurant your aunt Denise had told you about recently, and you showed him a snapshot of the menu.
“Wanna try out this new Latin place for lunch? They’ve got empanadas,” you said. “And lots of beef on the menu. Huh, Mr. Carnivore?”
Beau blew out a subtle breath of exasperation.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to take this a little more seriously,” he said.
You dropped your hand to your side with a tired huff.
“Babe, we’ve been at this for two hours. I’m tired. I’m sweaty. I’m hungry,” you full on whined now, grasping onto the front of his shirt, a gray one you’d accidentally shrunk a little in the wash. What once was loose on him, now stretched tight across his chest and wrapped snugly around his arms. (So all in all, you didn’t feel too bad about it.)
Beau grabbed your hand from his shirt and took your phone from you. He tossed it over onto the couch.
“I just want to go over a few more things,” he said.
“Come on, you’re usually the bottomless pit here. My stomach is going to eat itself,” you protested.
His lips twitched. “You’re being a tad dramatic, don’t you think? Now let’s go. Show me what you’re gonna do when I come at you head on.”
When Beau stepped forward, you mimed bringing the heel of your hand up to his face. He pretended to whip his head back, as if you’d really hit him. Complete with an exaggerated, Jim Carey-level sound effect of pain that almost got you to smile.
“Okay, good,” he nodded afterward. “But what if I grab your arm and get’cha turned around?”
He grasped your wrist next. He slowly twisted you around, until your left arm was behind your back. You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder.
“I’m gonna break your damn nose for real if we don’t go eat,” you warned.
“Just give me twenty more minutes, and we’ll go. I promise,” he replied, trying to dim his smile. “Now humor me, would you? What’re you gonna do if I got you like this?”
You released a long-suffering sigh.
“Break your stance,” you intoned. You took your sneaker-clad heel and kicked back to tap it on the top of his boot. In reality, you’d be driving your heel into his foot, hard enough to try and break it. He moved his foot back before you could though.
“Nice try. Now what?” he challenged.
You used your free elbow to press into his right side below his ribs—and maybe you dug in a little harder than you needed to. He grunted slightly, but he nodded in approval and released your arm.
“Okay, good. The guy’s probably gonna loosen up enough for you to start running,” he said.
To your annoyance, he didn’t end the lesson there.
“Now, coming at ya from behind,” he said, wrapping his arms more fully around your frame, across your chest and under your breasts. His hold was firm, but not tight enough for you to feel his full strength.
This time, however, your body locked up with a bit of tension. You drew in a sharper breath. You knew you were safe in your boyfriend’s arms, but you had a sudden flash of memory in your mind’s eye.
You felt the phantom of a more threatening grip on your arms, shoving you hard into the side of your car, pressing you into the door with your cheek against the glass.
“Hey, you all right?” Beau prompted. It managed to break you out of your thoughts, and you realized that his hold was looser now. His voice was a touch softer, and his lips pressed to the side of your head, reminding you that it was just him. You were safe.
You squeezed his arms gratefully. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
This was why you’d agreed to these self-defense lessons in the first place. And you knew it wasn’t just for your own benefit. It made Beau feel better too, giving you back some control, and just knowing that you were better prepared.
Working through the trauma of everything you’d gone through in the past six months was an ongoing process; both your kidnapping this past summer, and Casey Sanderson attacking you at the college campus where you worked. You still got uneasy in the parking lot.
“You sure?” Beau asked. “We can stop now if you need to.”
You shook your head. You didn’t want that flash of memory to be the reason you quit.
“No, let’s finish this,” you said.
After a moment, Beau nodded. His thumb stroked your shoulder before his hold firmed back up.
“Okay, how’re you gonna break my stance?” he asked.
Your lips formed a cheeky smile. You grabbed onto his arm wrapped across your chest and bit him, just firm enough to startle him a little.
“How about I bite your ass,” you teased. Though you soothed over the bite with a kiss, tasting the salty sweat dried on his skin. Beau cleared his throat. You couldn’t see it, but he was smirking.
“Sure. That’s one way to go about it,” he said with a chuckle. “Any other ideas?”
Hmm. You remembered the moves he’d taught you yesterday, but an idea struck you.
“Well, I could always just channel Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality,” you said.
“What?” Beau asked. You could tell, without even seeing his face, that his brows had drawn together in confusion.
“Oh, you don’t remember? It’s simple! S.I.N.G.,” you said, with a growing smile. “Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin…”
With each word, you once again bumped your elbow into his side, playfully stepped on his foot, and reached back to throw a mock elbow into the bridge of his nose. But on the last part of the acronym, you slid your hand down the inside of Beau’s thigh and grasped his length firmly through his activewear pants.
He released a strangled sound and let go of you. His hands instinctively moved to grip your arms tight.
“Very good,” he croaked out, and allowed you to turn around. You slowly rubbed your hand up and down his shaft until it hardened under your palm. Beau stared down at you with a new fire in his eyes, his mouth parting as an aroused groan escaped him.
Giving him a mischievous smile, you lowered to the ground onto your knees, hooking your nails on the waistband of his pants and underwear and taking them down along with you. It was good thinking on his part that you guys placed an exercise mat across the living room floor. It made this more comfortable on your knees, especially when you took almost the full length of his cock into your mouth.
“Aw, fuck,” Beau grunted. His fingers slipped into your hair. He couldn’t help but grip tight as you continued to salivate over him, dragging your soft, wet tongue across his velvety flesh. And you were relentless. Whatever you couldn’t take into your beautiful mouth, you stroked with your hand wrapped around the base.
You pulled your head back for a moment, just so you could tease his sensitive head. He moaned and bucked on reflex, driving himself deeper into your mouth again.
Oh, he was close already. You felt his thighs shaking, his cock throbbing. Your pussy clenched as well, with the memory of how he felt coming inside you. It had you quickening the pace of your lips and tongue drawing his release, and soon he spilled hot inside your mouth. You took and swallowed everything he had to give, sucking him clean.
It was too much. Beau shakily lowered to his knees, almost stumbling down to your level. He grasped your shoulders for balance first. Then he slid his hands down the gentle slope of your back and crushed you to his chest, where he bowed his head to claim you with a kiss.
Now it was his turn to be unrelenting. He hardly let you breathe with his lips moving passionately over yours.
“Lesson over?” you panted, between kisses.
“Yeah,” he said roughly, though he chuckled. “Thank you, darlin’. You’ve been a model student.”
You smiled against his lips. Beau slid your shirt up and over your head before he laid you down on the mat. His kisses blazed a wet path down your neck and between your breasts, still covered by your satin bra.
“Thought we were going to lunch,” you said breathlessly.
Beau perked his head up and shot you a heated look, despite his grin. He began slowly dragging your tight-ass yoga pants down your hips and thighs, all the way down to your ankles. Your panties came next.
“Oh, we are,” he said, sliding his hands back up your thighs. “All of a sudden, I’m real hungry.”
His mouth finding its way between your legs soon cut off the rest of your laughter.
AN: Lol how'd you like that lesson in self-defense? 😘
And want more stories in the TMH-verse? I've missed these two. ❤️
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Take Me Home Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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