#why have them be nervous around each other

[earlysunshines]

sparks on ice

hanni pham x reader ; fluff

synopsis: hanni’s friends force her out the house to ice skate knowing she is completely incapable of doing so and that fact is proven when she falls onto some random stranger—you.

warnings: NONE! pure fluff… ; okay well the usual… they’re GAY. ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: i went ice skating w some friends and our whole friend group of eight, including me, has six gay ppl and one of two straight ppl… the MAN, falls onto the MALE worker and it looked really really fruiticous and i can’t stop giggling thinking ab it and its sooo hanni core so i HAD to write it

hanni has no clue why she’s letting her friends drag her out to go ice skating.

not only hanni is aussie—and that doesn’t mean ice skating doesn’t exist in melbourne—it’s the fact that she hasn’t ice skated since primary school. the memory of slipping more times than she can count on one hand doesn’t make her the most confident in the room.

she’s squeezing into skates a size down from her usual size, feeling the pressure against her feet and letting danielle helping her lace her shoes like a mother.

“you’re not nervous?” hanni asks.

“no! i mean, i’ve skated a few times back home. shouldn’t be too bad,” danielle simply shrugs as she double knots the last laces. “i might be rusty though.” 

knowing danielle, she’ll probably be gliding across the ice like a professional within half an hour, spinning and skating backward by the end of their session. 

minji snickers, looking over at hanni and grinning. “i can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.”

“you’re a terrible person.” hanni nudges minji over with her shoulder. “you did this on purpose.”

“yes,” minji says before nudging hanni back, earning a giggle from danielle and hyein, “but ice skating is just as fun as it is humiliating. more fun than humiliating, maybe.”

hanni rolls her eyes, getting up and nearly losing her balance from the feeling of mere blades holding her weight. she purses her lips, sighing as she clings onto danielle’s arm while they walk over and out to the rink.

there’s a variety of others skating—families, couples, friends—it makes hanni a little nervous. minji looks over and chuckles, tilting her head over to motion the rest over. “c’mon! we have less than ninety minutes now.” she says, stepping into the rink like it’s second nature. 

danielle steps in first, gliding forward with a slight wobble but quickly finding her rhythm. hanni follows instantly, clinging to the edge of the rink with one hand and danielle’s pinky with her other. she feels like a baby deer.

“you alright there?” danielle asks, a hint of worry and amusement in her tone.

“define ‘okay,’” hanni says with a wary expression as she inches forward. 

minji glides past them effortlessly, smirking as she spins around to face them while skating backward. “not bad han, you look like a pro~”

“you’re being sarcastic,” hanni snaps, glaring as she clutches onto both danielle and the railing for dear life. “i hope you slip and fall on your ass.”

hyein skates up beside them, laughing. “don’t worry hanni, i bet you’ll do great. just keep clinging onto dani and maybe… you’ll learn?”

“shut up, i hate you.” hanni groans.

danielle laughs, letting go of hanni for a bit. “you should learn on your own, i can teach you a bit!”

“dani! noooo,” hanni whines, “please, i’m actually going to slip on my ass. please dani… please…”

“hanni,” danielle shakes her head as she giggles, skating a little further and closer to hyein as she watches hanni cling for her life. “just take two steps and glide, it’s a rhythm that you have to get into.”

“okay well i’m completely out of rhythm then.” hanni sighs, staring down at her feet. 

she loses balance for a bit, nearly falling before she clings to the railing again. minji laughs—her signature cackle—as she captures it on her phone. 

the group lingers by for a bit, watching hanni as she struggles to stay a foot away from the railing, nearing closer to a fall with each step. hanni doesn’t give up though, trailing behind danielle and hyein as fast as she can while they watch over her.

hanni improves around thirty minutes in, being able to stay a few feet away from the railing now as she develops a faster pace. she’s nearing danielle’s tempo, but her arms are still out as she tries to keep her balance. they swing around her with each step and glide, but what matters is that hanni has some grasp of the technique.

that’s what she thinks, at least.

as if on cue, contradicting what she had believed prior, her skate catches and she loses her balance. her arms flail, a small squeak slips from her lips, and for a horrifying second she’s sure she’s about to crash onto the ice.

much to her surprise, she falls into someone’s arms instead—a firm, warm hold that keeps her from hitting the ground. 

“whoa, you alright?” the voice is calm but slightly startled. you steady her slowly. “i gotcha.”

hanni looks up and realizes she’s in the arms of one of the rink workers. the worker, a girl who looks around her age wears a staff jacket and a concerned expression. 

the worker, you, also have a pretty face. your faces are a breath apart, and the lights surrounding the rink bring a little glint to your eyes—they also highlight your unique features that she’s glancing at in the heat of the moment.

hanni feels her cheeks burn as she scrambles to stand on her own, muttering, “i’m fine! i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” you say sweetly, smiling at her as you brush it off. hanni’s heart is racing, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the way you look at her or the fall. “don’t worry about it. just take it slow, yeah?”

hanni nods.

“try to keep your knees a little more bent.” you giggle, smiling bigger now. “and your posture doesn’t have to be perfect, if it helps you can bend forward just slightly. relax.” 

hanni nods again, like a stupid idot. her cheeks burn as she tries to compose herself. “right. knees bent. thanks, um, yeah. great.”

your hands linger for a moment longer than they should, but maybe hanni’s overthinking it—she doesn’t mind, though.

“and maybe don’t stray off too far into the rink. wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” you add, a teasing lilt in your voice.

hanni can’t help but laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “got it.”

your smile widens slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the rink faded in the background.

“you’re sure you’re okay?” you ask once more, gaze flickering over to hanni’s face, as if checking fro any signs of lingering distress. and maybe you’re appreciating her soft features too. 

“yeah, i’m good. really—now that you’re here,” hanni breathes out before her eyes widen, “i mean! not in a weird way. sorry, that was so… intimate. oh my god. i just mean, um, thanks for catching me.”

you give her a soft laugh. “anytime.” you reply, tone warm but light. 

hanni wanted to keep the conversation going, to steal you away from your job for no apparent reason. but before she could do so, you give her a quick nod and skate off, moving with an effortless grace that left hanni feeling even more off balance.

“so,” minji says, skating up beside her with a grin that spreads from ear to ear, “what happened there?”

hanni jumps a bit from the sudden awareness of minji’s presence, desperately reaching out for minji’s shoulders to stop herself from falling. “shut up!” hanni grains, her face heating up as she tightens her grip on minji’s shoulder.

“that was something out of a romance movie. you should fall into her again—for science. she’s so your type. taller, nice face, oh! and—”

“i’ll kill you.” hanni shoves minji a bit, disturbing their balance simultaneously before hanni searches for minji’s shoulder again to keep herself from falling.

danielle and hyein skate up to the two a few seconds later, giggling and furthering the teasing that minji started. hanni rolls her eyes as she skates with them, still distracted from the encounter.

the rest of the session is a mix of wobbly attempts and minor victories, but hanni can’t stop thinking about how you caught her. she keeps glanicng over, watching you glide across the ice as if it were like walking while you monitor the rest of the people there. 

you glance at hanni a few times as well, accidentally making eye contact. your heart races all three times it happens.

—

if hanni had a coin for each time she had bumped into you that week, she’d have two, which isn’t a lot, but it’s mind-blowing how it’s happened more than once.

a few days later hanni is hurrying towards her bus while juggling her phone in one hand and a back of snacks in the other. she rounds the corner too fast and crashes into someone—not on ice this time, but the same person.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry—” she starts, only to look up and realize it’s you.

“it’s— oh, it’s you,” you seem as shocked as you do amused. your brows are raised and your lips twitch into a smile. “this is like deja vu, or something.” you tease, steadying her by the arm before she can drop the snacks she bought for her friends.

hanni feels her face heat up immediately. “y-you, hi. um… thanks for not letting me fall—again.”

“anytime,” you reassure, you said the same last time. hanni swallows shallowly. you have the same warm, steady presence she remembers as you look and speak to her. “are you headed towards the stop down the street too?”

“yeah,” hanni replies, falling into step beside you. “are you—? are you headed the same way.”

“yup.” you respond.

as you both walk, the conversation starts small and hanni is trying to do everything but look you in the eye. you've only given each other your names and still she’s nervous along with embarrassed from your first encounter, but also flustered from how you look even cuter outside of your work. you’re talking about the weather, complaining about the bus schedule, and when the topic shifts to ice skating—you glance at her. 

your smile turns a little softer as you admit, “you know, you kind of made my night during that shift.”

hanni blinks, caught off guard. “me? you’re joking, right?”

you shake your head. “i mean, most of the time it’s just kids screaming or people falling over and pushing me away when i try to help. embarrassment gets the best of us.” you say, grinning. “but you? you were… different. you were really sweet, and amusing to help. it was endearing.”

hanni snickers, “pftt, endearing? you’re teasing me.”

“nope.” you shrug, turning your head just a bit to make eye contact with her.

her heart stumbles over itself at your words, and she fiddles with the strap of her bag to keep her hands busy. “i’m glad i could, um, help.”

you both board the bus, sit next to each other, and the conversation flows more easily after that. you ask her what she does, and she tells you about her classes and how much teasing she has to endure from her friends. you share stories about odd encounters at the rink and how annoying your major can be. it’s natural, comfortable, but there’s something more that’s in the air.

as the bus pulls up to teh stop, you turn to her, your smile turning just a little more timid. “you know, i thought— well i still do. i think… i think you’re really cute, by the way. you’re gorgeous.”

hanni freezes for half a second, her cheeks flushing. “oh,” she says then laughs nervously. “thank you. i kind of thought the same about you. you’re cute.” her voice gets quieter as her sentence had ended.

your grin widens at that, and you take out your phone, holding it toward her. “well, if you’re not completely traumatized by ice skating—maybe you’d let me teach you one-on-one?”

she hesitates for only a moment before giving you her number, feeling a mix of far too much swirling in her chest. hanni is definitely red, she can feel it.

“i’m not against it.”

“it’s a date, then? or is that too forward.” you ask as the bus doors open, stepping up onto the platform.

“i think we’re past whatever ‘forward’ is, especially after our first meeting….” hanni jokes, raising her voice so you can hear. her heart races as she nods, not sparing a second to say, “it’s a date.” before the door closes.

she catches you smiling at her, teeth and all now, before the bus drives away. hanni giggles to herself, smiling out the window before she pulls out her phone,

hanni: guys guys i just guys i have a date with the cute ice skating worker the one i fell on

minji: you WHAT.

[confiaenanaa]

Hello,how are you? I saw your post asking for fic ideas so here's one I hope you like it

Assistant reader who has worked with Eminem since the beginning of his career, the public and his kids love her, the kids always goes to her for advice and see her as part of the family . Marshall admires her and her relationship with his kids, He has always been attracted to her, but he respects her a lot and thinks she can find someone better, They are very close and know each other like no one else. They have fight a few times but she would always go to him and put some sense into his head and they would make up. Maybe she could have an accident or become very ill and end up in the hospital, he is terrified at the prospect of losing her. They get so stressed about the situation that they have a very serious fight, he says a lot of shit and she sends him away. A few days pass and they don't talk to each other, he didn't want to apologize and decided to wait until she came back and fix the things like she always did, but the things he said during the fight really hurt her and she decided to resign from her assistant position, she sent an email with the details of her contract termination.

You decide what happens next.

PS: I really loved your writing, sorry for the long request, I like to detail things, if you don't like the idea or don't feel comfortable writing this you can completely ignore it please.

Hugs and bye (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

my assistant - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Y/N is Marshall's assistant. They're close and best friends until something goes wrong in her life...

A/N: hi! I know it's been a while, i've been super stressed with finals and stuff but i'm finally back on track and I wrote this. there's more to come since I have a ton of requests to have fun with! hope you enjoy this one. and i'm so glad to hear you liked my writing!

-Marsh!

-What?!

-Dre’s on the phone for you! Something about needing you to re-record something!

Marshall groaned from his office. Y/N giggled at his antics, he really could be a grump at times. She continued to put away files and work on his busy schedule, something she’d done every day for years. 

Y/N had been Marshall’s assistant since what felt like forever, and it sort of was. Ever since his career took off, she’d been by his side. She did her job well, and never gave anyone on the team any reason to doubt her abilities. Not to mention she was always the go-to for advice. Marshall was always asking for advice; situations big or small, his mind always went to call Y/N. And his kids did the same. And his friends. And his team. 

The public always wondered about their relationship, about what happened behind closed doors. “She and I are just close friends. That’s all.” And truthfully, that was all there was to it. They were friends. Though he’d often find himself wondering and daydreaming about what it’d feel like if they were more, he always stopped himself before it could get any deeper. He knew she deserved better. She was smart, kind, and hilarious. Surely, she’d find another man more attractive and muscular and smarter and funnier. Surely, she wouldn’t want a man like him. But, in actuality, they were both stuck in a cycle of feeling this way. She felt he deserved someone who related to him more. Someone prettier, someone more famous. Why would he want an accountant when he could easily have a bombshell? 

Everyone around them knew how they felt about each other, except, apparently, them. They knew each other inside and out. Marshall knew all of her nervous tics; like her lip biting, finger picking, leg bouncing, pen tapping, and arm crossing. And, in return, she knew all of his icks; loud chewing, gum popping, loud singing, loud speaking, fingernail tapping, and slurping. They could read one another like books, unless, of course, it came to romance. 

Y/N had been to enough family dinners at his house to know this. She was basically a Mathers herself. She became a Mathers when Hailie got her first period and Marshall had no clue on what to do. When she told him what to buy at the supermarket while she washed Hailie’s bed sheets and clothes. When she helped Hailie with her first breakup. And she became a Mathers when Marshall started his journey with sobriety and she was with him the whole time. Marshall admired her greatly. He admired her bravery and courage, her kindness and empathy, her ambition and perseverance, it seemed like everything life threw at her, she could easily push past it. He respected her a lot. He also respected how much a perfectionist she was. She made sure her nails were properly painted and if not they looked well groomed; cuticles always cut, nails long and strong, filed to perfection. Her hair was done meticulously, clearly also well taken care of. Her skin had a light glow to it. Marshall admired this for years. He admired and respected every aspect about her, she was like family to him. 

However, like friends and family do, there were always a few quarrels. When Y/N was on her period and already in a sour mood, and Marshall decided that would be a good day to be a brat and complain about everything. Y/N adored him, but he could be really childish at times. He whined one too many times and she’d snapped at him. It escalated into an argument that Dre had to promptly break up. Or when Marshall was upset because he had writer's block and Y/N asked if it was really that hard to write a song. He snapped at her too. But, in the end, they always made up. In all honesty, it was usually Y/N that would fix things. She’d go over to him and no matter who was right or wrong, she’d say it was silly and smack him upside the head for staying upset. 

The symptoms started mild. A bit of dizziness and fatigue. Walking up the stairs got harder, standing up suddenly quickly became a threat. Marshall and the others had noticed it, but decided not to mention anything. Health business is private business. Then, she started getting weaker. She was fatigued after just walking from the office back to her desk. She got pale. She no longer had that glow to her. Hailie asked Marshall what was wrong, but even he didn’t know. 

She was always short of breath. When she talked, she occasionally slurred her words. She’d stumble through the hallway, just trying to make it back to her desk. This went on for months. In the beginning, Marshall took the pallor and fatigue as stress and exhaustion from work. He no longer complained, instead taking on some of her duties in an attempt to alleviate her. He saw nothing changed, in fact, it only worsened. 

She started having heart palpitations. They became more frequent as the weeks flew by. When she’d hug her friends or set a hand down on someone’s arm, they’d notice that they were cold as ice. Her nails, something she once cared for, were now brittle. Her hair, once shiny and well put together, was now thinning and falling like a withering tree in the fall. 

Almost a year had passed since the symptoms started. It was a somewhat normal day in the studio. Y/N walked in with Marshall’s weekly schedule in hand. Today, the windows weren’t coated with curtains like they usually were. Today, Marshall saw Y/N in the natural light. He noticed how pale she’d become. How her hair was now messy and thinned. How she looked almost malnourished. 

He loved her the same, but he was concerned. He asked her to sit beside him on the couch, looking towards the others in the studio. Certainly the others had to have noticed her dire state. She sat carefully, moving slowly in an attempt to not exhaust herself too much. Her eyes darted around the room in confusion. Why was everyone looking at her like that? 

She sat there for a while, when she realized she needed to finish a document for Paul. 

-Shit!

-What? What’s wrong?

-I need to finish that paper for Paul. I’ll see you guys later.

Y/N stood up madly. Suddenly, she felt her body numb slightly and her eyes roll into the back of her head. She felt dizzy and everything around her felt surreal. She attempted to take a step forward, but instead, her entire body fell forward. Next thing she knew, it all went black. 

Marshall saw her stand up. She looked like she was going to hurl. She fell forward and with a thud, she hit the carpeted floor. Everyone in the room ran to her. There was a bustle of voices. Pandemonium broke out. Someone called an ambulance. Marshall couldn’t remember much, but what he did know was that now he was sitting in a hospital lobby. Awaiting any news about his best friend. 

The realization settled in. The panic came along with it. He realized that his best friend (and sort of the love of his life) was in a hospital bed right now, unsure of whether or not she’ll make it out of here. He knew he couldn’t lose her.

-It’s anemia. Her case was pretty severe, since it was left untreated for 11 months. She had an iron deficiency, most likely from not eating properly. It could’ve become deadly if she’d left it untreated for too long. 

-Anemia?

Marshall couldn’t believe it. All of the signs were there and he never did anything about it. As soon as they let him know she was conscious, he ran into the room. He saw her in the bed and felt a wave of emotions. He felt sad knowing that she was hurting, he felt happy that she was okay, and he felt rage that she let this get that bad and that he hadn’t noticed.

-Hey, Marsh. 

-Hey. Did you know you had anemia?

-Wow. Straight to the point. Um, not specifically but, like, I knew there was something wrong.

Marshall started to become upset. How was she so casual about this? If anemia is left untreated, it can result in death.

-And you didn’t do anything about it?

-Well, no. I didn’t expect anything serious?

-The doctor told me that you could’ve died if you didn’t treat it. And he said it was because you weren’t eating. Why weren’t you eating?

-Look, Marsh, I just assumed that it would go away after a while. I didn’t even notice it had gotten that bad. And I mean, I haven’t really had an appetite. I’ve been working a lot and I just think I was stressed. 

-Well, you should’ve told me you were feeling overworked! I could’ve helped you! You could’ve died Y/N! Doesn’t that go through your head!

-I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was that deep! 

-Yeah? Well it was. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I came here thinking you got some crazy disease. I was so worried.

-I can’t control my appetite Marsh. And you didn’t have to come.

-Yeah, well, when you’re on your deathbed, alone, you’ll wish you might’ve listened to me. 

Y/N’s mouth stayed slightly ajar after that last comment. How could he say that to her? He saw the look on her face and immediately regretted it. He knew he was doing wrong. He knew that it was a terrible thing to say.

-Look, Y/N, I’m so sor-

-Get out.

-What?

-Get out, Marsh. Leave.

And leave he did. He went home that day and had a long night of processing. He concluded that he had a point, but he should’ve phrased it better; he also should have picked a better time to say it. But he didn’t want to apologize. For some unknown reason, he couldn’t find it within himself to go to her and apologize. Eventually, a week had passed. He figured that she’d come to him soon and they’d make up. However, he was proven wrong when he received an email that Paul had forwarded him that morning. The title read “My Resignation”. He began to panic, calling her and sending her countless texts.  

He then called Paul, hoping it was a mistake.

-Look, man. I don’t know what you said or did to her, but it must’ve been pretty fucked up. You better go apologize to her now. 

Marshall quickly hopped into his car and drove to her house. He parked his car in her driveway, seeing she was home. He knocked on the door furiously, hoping to get ahold of her. She opened the door only a few inches. Enough to see his face. She was about to close the door when he pushed it open. She stumbled back a bit. 

-What the hell do you want Marsh?

-Look, Y/N, I came to apologize. I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said. I was just scared. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel bad. Especially since you were the one in the hospital bed. When I was the one in trouble, you never did any of that shit to me. I’m so sorry Y/N.

Y/N sighed deeply. As upset as she was with him, she couldn’t stay mad. She was starting to look like her old self again, Marshall realized. She got her glow back, her hair was looking thicker; she looked like she did before. Still a little thin, but back to somewhat normal. 

Y/N smiled weakly. She knew she couldn’t be mad at him forever, and this was silly. Marshall looked at her face, smiling, and he realized just how much he loved her. He looked at every feature he’d fallen in love with; her eyes, bright and curious, her lips, pretty and cute, her cheeks, slightly indented with all the smiling she does, but still beautiful. He knew he needed her, and without thinking, he leaned down and connected his lips with hers. It was passionate and sweet. The kiss contained all the words that need not be spoken. When he pulled back, she was smiling like an idiot, wide eyed. 

He knew that from then on, he would love her a little harder.

[minniebbang]

Always & forever | H. Jisung

pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

summary: silence in the air, it was odd. Something changed, he changed. Or maybe it was her who changed. Maybe, it was something else.

word counts: 1k words

genre: angst

a/n: I seriously think that physics is the main cause why I write so many angst stories. Never thought physics had that effect on me>>>. Also let me know what you think!

Shutting his eyes, his head remained on the headrest while a low but audible sigh escaped him. His hands had fallen from the steering wheel, finding comfort by his side as the wind from the air conditioner played with his hair. His heart heaved at the thought of starting the car and heading to the place — the one he knew by heart now.

The car suddenly sank, followed by a soft thud from the passenger’s door, but he remained still as a doll. His breath was stolen momentarily upon the sound.

No…he must have misheard it.

He unfolded his eyes and slowly turned his head to the side, his gaze clouded with a vague feeling, a feeling that she couldn't quite point. Feelings that rarely painted on his usually soft features.

She closed the door and beamed a small smile toward him — a smile oh so warm that could light up his days, once a beacon in his unknown path.

“Are you okay, Jisung?” Her hand reached for his hand and gently grasped it.

But her hands felt cold. Hollow of warmth.

A sharp pain struck his head and his hand jolted back, dropping out of her grip. His hands began quivering as they found their place on the steering wheel, gripping them tightly. Everything around him closed up, emerging into each other, creating distorted images. His chest raised in alarming rhythm as he tried to calm himself and gained control over his breathing again and she only could…watch.

Nothing else.

Stuck in the seat without any way to comfort her broken lover.

The sound of his phone pulled him back to reality. Picking it up, he hastily slid the green icon to the side and placed it to his ear.

“Hyung…” his voice echoed in her ear, a tone nearing breaking down, but he held on as long as he could. As long as the latter won't worry about him.

“Jisung, are you sure you're fine to go there?”

“Today is our anniversary, hyung. She will be happy to see me there”

The latter sighed “Alright, be careful. If anything, I’m here. ”

“I appreciate it, hyung”

He placed his phone back into his pocket and glanced at her once more before pulling the break, feet lightly stepping into the gear and leaving the house.

“Jisung..?” Her words hung in the thickening silent air.

No reply or bubbly humming, like he usually did.

He was an arm's length away from her.

But it felt like a concrete wall had built itself between them.

He was unreachable.

Her eyes searched for any remaining love in his orbs, but she found none. As if the person beside her was a stranger.

The radio was playing silently in the background. She raised the volume, and immediately, her eyes widened, looking at Jisung with excitement as the familiar beat bounced in the car.

“Hey, it's your song! I remember how nervous you were when you said this song is about me” A giggle bubbled out from her, but it faded when she saw tears pricking in the corner of his eyes; it hung there and never fell.

He was still holding on. Even though the thorns had embedded in his heart, causing it to bleed and slowly fall apart.

“It's our song, baby. You never accept that although I say it millions of times.” He whispered to himself. His heart ached at the memory, her giggle and smile.

She slumped back to the seat, hugging herself as the temperature around her dropped. The faint smell of the flowers wafted in the air — it was her favourite flower.

Soon, a graveyard rolled into his view and he parked the car beside a tree. Picking up the flowers on the back seat, he trudged his way to a place. She followed him closely from behind.

His steps stopped at a grave and the tears finally poured down to his cheeks.

The bits of his heart that he was collecting had fallen. He couldn't hold it anymore.

Her smile wavered as she peeked at her name carved into the gravestone.

Jisung settled on the grass, leaving the flowers beside her grave.

“Happy anniversary, baby. I’m sorry I was late. If I’m a bit early, you’re officially my wife, right?” He sniffled and smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“How are you? I hope the angels are taking care of you. They probably take care of you better than I am” he chuckles dryly, a slight sympathy to himself.

She kneeled beside him and wanted to wipe his tears off but her fingers just slipped through his face.

Ah. Could someone give her another chance to take care of him again?

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn't save you”

“Why are you blaming yourself, Jisung? You try to save me…”

“If I cut my leg that day, will you be alive by now?”

“Baby…none of this is your fault.”

A conversation with death always ends up pointless. They couldn't reply to you but at least it would help you to move on, wasn't it?

The flashback of that day winded back in his head.

They were on their way to their wedding ceremony.

Moments later, their car was tumbling out of the road, rolling off the cliff.

His legs were stuck under the heavy tree branches but he was breathing, barely

One glance to the side, his bride was unconscious, shattered glasses stabbing her in various places.

He blinked and he was back at the grave, forced to stare at her grave again. Yet, she was still by his side, staring at her name and her death date, unmoved. Her heart was begging for her to stay

But she knew she couldn't stay here any longer. Not where she no longer belonged to earth.

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closing as she felt herself vanishing, bits by bits, from reality.

“I love you, Jisung. Always and forever”

A warm wind brushed his cheeks out of sudden, bringing a fond smile to him amidst the running tears. Raising his chin, his gaze was met with the soft blue sky. A white butterfly landed on his cheeks, its wings flipping graciously and swiped the tears off.

A light giggle escaped him as he closed his eyes, the thorns in his heart had untangled themself, letting his heart beat with ease. After a while, the butterfly flew away.

“You're here earlier, aren't you? Thank you for the comfort. I love you, always and forever, Y/N”

[wynnerwynner]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄

aemond targaryen x fem!royce-targaryen!reader

synopsis: after aemond made a scene toward his wife's estranged family at dinner, he seeks her out to apologize and make a daring promise.

request: no

warnings: brief discussion of violence

wc: 1.1k

A knock came from the door. Y/N did not rise from where she laid on the bed. They knocked again.

“Y/N,” Aemond called from the other side. “Y/N—open the door, for Gods’ sake.”

She could hear conversation between him and her guard, but could not discern it.

Aemond was growing irritated.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” Ser Andry said as the door swung open. “I tried to—”

The door slammed shut before he could finish his sentence, the wood rattling against its hinges. She must stop slamming it so much herself. She was not her father.

Aemond took a couple steps into the room. Slowly, he drew closer to the bed.

“I couldn’t help but notice your leaving without a word from our dinner.”

Aemond rounded the bed, coming into view of her open eyes. He sat on the edge of it, staring at her.

“Y/N,” he said simply.

“What you did,” she spoke softly, staring off, “really hurt me… Aemond.”

“That was never my intention.”

Y/N sighed through her nose, adjusting her head against the pillow.

“My uncle is a prick. So are his children.”

When her eyes flicked to him, he froze.

I am his child, her eyes so easily said.

Once again, Aemond was reminded that he did something the opposite of his intentions.

Y/N turned over, leaving her silk-covered back to him.

Aemond sat there, picking at the skin around his fingers, unsure of what to do next. Then, he laid on the bed next to her. He faced her back, staring at her cream-coloured hair.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“The intention isn’t the matter,” Y/N said softly, “it is the outcome. The result of one’s actions is often always what matters. Whatever your intentions, I know it was to rouse them. You act as though I am stupid.”

“I do not think you stupid. My uncle ignored you. He has been ignoring you,” he reminded. “Does that not anger you?”

“It does,” she snapped. “But I know him better than anyone.”

Aemond paused.

“You deserve justice,” he said carefully.

“I do,” she replied. “Though, it is my justice to serve. Not yours. I understand it is difficult for you to accept because of the hatred that’s been instilled upon you regarding my step and half siblings, but they are not just your nephews and nieces. They are now your brothers and sisters––as much as they are mine. They’ve always been kind to me. I’d’ve hoped you’d seen that.”

Tentatively, he reached out and pulled a curly strand of brown and pearl hair over her shoulder.

Y/N turned over to face him. For once, he was the nervous one.

She struggled to understand how she’d explain the complexity that was her genealogy.

“I…”

Her mouth bobbed as she choked on words, each planned sentence making less sense than the last. After nearly a minute of him patiently waiting for her to speak, she decided it didn’t matter if he thought her insane. He could label her a witch. He could look at her the same way the court looked at Helaena and it wouldn’t matter. If she lost yet another person who was supposed to love her, it wouldn’t matter this time.

“My mother and father—their blood of the First Men and Old Valyria, gifted me the ability to empathize. I can… I can feel other people’s emotions, though I cannot manipulate. The wind and the grass have their own emotions. So does the wood of this bed and the threading of my nightgown. I can feel everything. I can feel men as far as the Wall.”

Y/N found herself spewing her deepest secret, speaking faster than her brain could comprehend. She’d never spoken of her gift to anyone but Helaena, especially not to this depth.

“My father often feels like—like shame and disappointment. It is why he goes on these adventures and neglects me. Why he tries to be a father to his other children. He’s afraid of me—of what my existence represents.”

Y/N was ready for him to bleed her out in her own bed. But the knife never left its holster. Instead, his mouth opened,

“And what do I feel like, Princess?”

She blinked, then mumbled, “Sorrow.”

Aemond’s eye looked from one of hers, to the other. “And what?”

“Rain,” she whispered absently. “You’ve always felt like rain.”

She watched his expression change in the minuscule way it did when he turned inward.

His hand came up to her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin of her cheek.

“I can get you justice,” he said.

It would only take a word and he’d conspire against the lives of her father’s entire family. One word and Dragonstone would explode.

“I do not wish death,” she whispered.

“I can make you their Queen.”

He said it so casually, she couldn’t believe it.

“You mustn’t make such complex promises, Aemond.”

“You should know by now, dear wife, I don’t make promises I cannot keep.”

She got the urge to slap him, though she refrained. How dare he say such a thing?

“And I’m to believe you’d let me sit atop the throne? Higher than even you? How would that work? My father gave up his seat—there is no way, in this realm, that I’d wear that crown on my head. That is not what my uncle wishes upon his death.”

“What my father wishes is not important,” he said with irritating calm. “Have you never dreamed of what it would be like to look down on Daemon? To look down on all those who have wronged you?”

Y/N stared at him, brows narrowed. She licked her lips before reminding, “I’d be looking down on you.”

“You understand, just as I, that family is sacred. Unlike my mother, you understand how to keep our children on the throne. You do not play, as she does.”

“And what would the people think?”

“You are of the First Men. You have advantage.”

“Aemond, I do not wish to sit before my own council in a time of need, all for them to talk amongst themselves!” she emphasized. “This is ludicrous.”

He sat up. “It is truth.”

“No, it is delusion,” she raised from the pillow.

Aemond assessed her before leaning in slowly to leave a lingering kiss to her cheek. Then, he leaned toward her ear and whispered,

“I’d burn them all if it meant securing the throne.”

He pulled away slowly and retreated from the room. Even after the door had closed, Y/N sat staring at the door.

[nislost]

unvirgin | chapter 6

warnings: suggestive, people being mean again

(written + smau)

you’re driving back to your apartment after you finished your class. you have 2 hours to get ready and you need to look good. you quickly jump in the shower to shave and take off all that school stench off of you.

after two hours you check how you look in the mirror and you feel good. wearing the two piece outfit your friends voted on that consisted of a tight miniskirt that matched the cropped jacket you had and platform heels because who are you without your heels?

you rush out the door and make your way to the library after you notice you’re 5 minutes late. at least you’ll be fashionably late! you walk into the library searching for the black haired boy and when you do you smile walking your way over. tapping jeno on his shoulder he turns around startled.

“sorry i’m late” you whisper giving him an apologetic smile. “i-it’s fine don’t worry” he whispers before clearing his voice his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle at his nervous state before sitting in the empty seat next to him. you noticed he looked good really good…why? well he’s wearing the number 1 kitty cat defeater. gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

“so what did you need help with?” jeno asks softly not to bother others around. “everything” you groan “i swear math is my worst enemy” he chuckles at your words. “okay let’s start from the beginning of the topic we’re currently learning” he says as he takes out a stack of textbooks from his bag causing your jaw to drop.

your reaction makes him giggle which in return causes you to pout. “stop laughing at my pain” you mutter. you prepare mentally and physically for the time you’ll be spending here.

30 minutes in your brain is hurting and you’re completely frustrated. you begin working on a problem jeno gave you until your ears pick up a conversation behind you “omg did you see y/n with jeno?” one voice says “omg yeah i bet she’s trying to get into his pants” the other voice replies with a giggle. you can’t blame them you have a reputation, but it doesn’t give them the right to talk about you like that. “she’s such a fucking slut. poor jeno” the first voice says.

jeno notices your mood change and the conversation behind him. “i heard she fucked the principal and that’s why she’s here” they just kept going. they were wrong the reason you even got into this university was because you (kinda) tried in high school. don’t get you wrong you never studied or anything you just did the bare minimum and that got you a 3.4 gpa.

your friends wondered what happened since then and it’s just because you lost motivation and wanted to have more fun, but look where that landed you. you get up from your seat causing jeno to look at you confused and worried. you give him a smile “i’ll be right back” you state before you walking over to where those girls were.

seeing you in front of them made them shocked “what? you can talk shit about me behind my back why not in my face” you raise your brow waiting for them to respond. they just look at each other before one of them finally speaks up. “w-well it’s not like we’re wrong! look at yourself you dress like a prostitute” she spits out. the other girl taps her friend and points somewhere behind you. you turn around confused and see jeno.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. both the girls in front of you begin to stutter “n-nothing” “nothing at all! we’re just talking about how much we love y/n’s outfit” you roll your eyes at their words. jeno just hums in response before grabbing your arm and taking you back to your table. “anyways let’s continue our tutoring. don’t let anyone distract you.” he says giving you back your pencil.

you sigh before continuing solving the equations given.

2 hours pass and you’ve grown tired. “do you think we can stop for today?” you ask letting out a yawn. jeno chuckles before nodding. “oh i forgot to ask earlier but what would you want in return for you helping me? money, food or something else? i’m okay with doing anything” you turn to him. jeno ponders seeing if there is anything you could possibly help or do for him.

“can- no never mind that’s too embarrassing to ask for” he says blushing and looking away. this interests you a lot and makes you wonder. “just ask i already said id do anything” you say softly somewhat implying something. “i-i can’t” he stutters his nervousness makes you grin. you place a hand on his thigh to “comfort” him and it causes him to flinch. “jeno you can tell me” you pout tilting your head. he looks at the hand on his thigh then up at you.

“i have no experience…in you know” he mutters because you could hardly hear him you lean in closer “repeat what you said louder” he looks at you all flustered which makes something purr and it’s definitely not your pet cat at home. “can you h-help me um” he groans “take your time baby” you giggle. his ears perk up at the nickname you didn’t even realize you said.

“can you um unvirgin me?” he says softly looking at you with a vulnerable expression. you can’t help but giggle “unvirgin? seriously?” he looks at you embarrassed. “jeno are you sure? wouldn’t you want to save something like that for someone special?” you giggle again “i have no experience and everyone around our age has at least done it once and all my friends tease me” he looks at you with a pleading gaze.

“fine. i’ll unvirgin you, but only if i pass a math test. just so that’ll give you time to think this through” you stand up. jeno quickly nods before standing up as well and walking you to your car. “u-uh ill text you about our next session” he stutters slightly which makes him want to punch himself. you nod before driving off.

previous / next

taglist: @jenoleeaesthetic @yukisroom97 @4yunogf @iloveyou200 @antifrggile @t-102 @n0hyuck @cigarettesafterjae @bellymellyyyy @dudekiss3r @puzzlepiece-mp3 @nctdreamchaser @snoopyjimin @taeeflwrr @whothefvckami @minkyuncutie @sungsgirl @sunghoonsgfreal @toroufriteh @cookydream @flamingi @purrzitas @grassbutneo

[fics-arcs-version]

25 Days of Jegumas - @noblehouseofgay - Family Gathering - 443 Words

Regulus bit his lip as he looked in the mirror in the Potter’s foyer. He looked pretty, he knew that. In the green turtleneck Effie made for him, his black skinny jeans, and the light eyeliner ringing his eyes, he knew people would look.

He’d had dinner with the Potters a million times before. Sure, he was still awkward, but why was he so nervous about tonight?

Well, he’d never had dinner with them on Christmas Eve. That was a much bigger deal.

Regulus peeked into the living room. Sirius and Remus were snuggled in the corner of the sofa, barely an inch between their lips as they murmured to each other. Repulsive. It made Regulus too happy for his brother for his own good.

Peter was playing chess with Lily on the rug, both splayed across it, brows furrowed in frustration. Mary and Dorcas were braiding each other’s hair as Marlene kept her head in Dorcas’ lap, talking rather animatedly. Barty and Evan were rather disrespectfully intertwined on the couch, but they weren’t doing anything–for once. Pandora was whispering chess tips to Lily.

Regulus’ family. At least, the people that he considered family, minus Effie and Monty, who were busy in the kitchen.

And James.

Oh. James.

He whipped around to see his boyfriend grinning at him, hands shoved in his pockets. His arms shouldn’t look that good in his Gryffindor jumper.

“Lurking, Reggie?” James said, far too pleased with himself at sneaking up on Regulus. The boy scowled.

“Not… lurking, per se.” “Oh? And what would you call it?”

“I would… call it… uh…” James laughed, that beautiful sunshine-y laugh, and pulled Regulus closer by the waist, which he didn’t object to at all.

“It’s scary.” Regulus mumbled. “Why?” James chuckled again, lifting Regulus from the ground and wrapping Regulus’ legs around his waist. Regulus loved to be carried far too much. “These are all people you know.” “It’s different!” Regulus whined, though he knew he was in the wrong. James smiled and shook his head, sitting on the stairs and pulling Regulus into his lap. “It’s not. It’s just dinner.” “But Christmas is different…”

“Nope.” James squeezed his waist to make him squirm. “I don’t have fun memories and stuff to talk about when you guys do.” Regulus mumbled. Something that had been on the back of his mind for a while.

“Oh… Regulus that doesn’t matter. We’re your family now. You can make new memories.” Regulus looked thoroughly unconvinced, but that just made James laugh. 

“I promise.” James held out a crooked pinky. Damn James and his stupid childhood gestures. 

Regulus linked pinkies with him. “You better mean it.”

[thefearfulheart]

Been awhile since I’ve last posted something on Parkour Civilisation and Clownbo (so sorry about that my work was busting my butt lately ahaha) but I have a small au idea for people here if they want it that lets me combined something else I absolutely love as well

Vampire Evbo x Vampire Hunter Clown that’s set in a modern au

So, to start off the premise, Evbo is a recently turned vampire that was completely an accident after Seawatt (who was his then boyfriend at the time but is no longer that :)) decided to finally feed on him after luring him back to his place that he was temporarily staying at and then left him pretty much to die after using him for his blood…unfortunately for Seawatt he didn’t end up realising that he actually turned Evbo and when the blond woke after it-to say the least-he was confused. Evbo tries to find Seawatt again after finding the large amount of blood that seemed to be spilt around him, the aching pit that gnaws at his stomach painful and his sudden avoidance of the sun…well, Evbo ends up finding that Seawatt is completely gone now and he has to figure out what happened on his own.

He ends up researching his symptoms, thinking that he’s just sick possibly to deny what’s happening to him as he grows more and more hungrier each day, and he grows paler each passing day until he’s backed into a corner by someone trying to rob him…something tight in his guts pulling hard onto him as he feels his teeth ache with pain and his eyes darken as the robber gets closer towards him, tension bubbling underneath his skin until they’re just a breath away…and then he pounces on them, his fingers tearing into them as his teeth latch onto their neck and he tastes the sweet, tart taste of blood filling his mouth and he’s gone. A blind hunger overtakes him and he doesn’t awaken from it until he finds himself at his home, alone and washing out the blood from his clothes in the sink. The taste of blood fresh in his mouth as he stares into the bathroom tub in horror-his eyes reflecting off the murky, bloodied surface of it-and he slowly brings a hand to his mouth to breath, trying to find purchase as he throws himself away from the bathtub and slides down the wall opposite it with a pained noise escaping him.

He’s finally figured out he isn’t ‘sick’ now and that it’s something much worse….

Clown enters later on when Evbo has established himself a bit more and kinda has figured out what he can do to satiate his hunger without hurting people, his first kill still fresh in his mind. He tries to use animal blood to satiate his hunger but that thirst for human blood haunts his waking hours even as he drinks animal blood, a pungent bitterness clinging to it that sours his senses and makes him want to hurl, but he resists the urge even if he never feels full from it…eventually he ends up making another friend in the form of Void who’s a werepanther (he’s so cat coded I’m sorry) and it’s going pretty good so far for him, he’s alive and well and he now has a friend that has his back in this! (Ended up meeting void after the other accident fell on top of him while in his panther form when Evbo was hunting and they became quick friends after it.)

He still hasn’t found Seawatt on why this happened…but he feels like he’s getting closer to finding him and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before he has his answers.

That is…until Clown enters the picture.

Something about the masked man-it has to be a man there’s no question about it since he bleeds like a man-has Evbo on edge and Void nervous when they first see him around time. There’s an almost predator like quality in the way the other moves-as if he’s sizing them up-and the way he stares at Evbo as if he’s taking him apart in his mind and rearranging him again and again. It’s something that sets Evbo’s instincts on edge and heightens his desire to bare his fangs at him, to prove he’s the bigger predator here, but he stomps that desire down each time it rises up.

Evbo first meets him when he comes into his work-most likely a barista in all honesty or something like that-and their eyes immediately lock onto each other, something that makes Evbo freeze in place and Clown tilts his head at him in interest. It feels like an eternity until Evbo gets told to go on break and he sighs in relief to leave while Clown watches him walk away from him, the air almost suffocating until the blond leaves.

The dynamic is very much a wolf among sheep x a sheep in a wolf’s den situation with Clown and Evbo since Clown is here to investigate the multitude of murders that have been popping up with the attacks resembling vampire feedings (something that is completely unconnected to Evbo but he unfortunately gets involved in it) and ends up finding the odd occurrences of animals attacks and deaths as well which makes him suspicious. He ended up getting requested to do this job as a favour from an old enemy of his (The Old Man) and was disgruntled that his skills weren’t being used for something more interesting than this but retracts his opinion when he finds out about the odd animal attacks and the strange blond that he met earlier that day :)

I will outright say that Clown is straight up human because I think it’s more terrifying for Evbo to go against someone with no special powers or abilities and is just so incredibly, terrifyingly human in everything he does. The dread of ‘just’ a man being so powerful while being human intriguing and terrifying him but also the fact that Clown’s blood calls to him in such a way, teasing and whispering to him that he should have a taste of him.

It sets something in him alight and he craves for Clown’s blood, thinking about the man and what he would taste like in his waking hours and resting hours. Something that consumes him obsessively that he claws at himself for the thoughts of consumption, the craving of the blood and dangerous man while Clown remains unaware of his desires there. It’s something that scares Evbo to the core and frightens him since he feels like he’s walking on such a thin, fine wire that would snap at any moment…and he’s scared of what he would do when it happens.

Specifically this song with them as well fills my brain at the moment

[doomtrooper77]

The door down the hall was also made of heavy steel and was built almost like a bank vault. It was cracked open, and I could see the glow of fluorescent light coming through the crack. Although the door was heavy, it opened smoothly. I walked into another vaulting warehouse space. This one was full of rows upon rows upon rows of weapons. It was like walking into a Costco, but just for guns and weapons of every sort. Racks going all the way up to the ceiling of crates made of wood, some of molded plastic, and others of metal lined each level of racking around me.

The racking was configured so that a path led into the back of the warehouse. I followed it. When I reached the end of the path, there was an area of worktables, machinery, and tools. Sitting beside the table was a massive man with a buzz-cut and thick beard. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he was the size of a fucking Mac truck. The other guys he had met were huge, but this man was massive. His eyes looked at me from under heavy brows. Bright like steel, they looked right through me.  In his hand was a machine gun of some type I had never seen before. Well, that told me I was in the right place. It wasn’t pointed at me, but something told me it could be in a microsecond if I said or did the wrong thing.

I walked over to him and said, “I guess you are the guy I am looking for, Mr.” He said nothing and kept looking at me. “Okay, I was told that you were the guy who could provide me with some specialty equipment that I need,” I continued. He still didn’t say anything and just kept looking at me. I was getting nervous now. My hand twitched to move toward the button, but I pushed that feeling down. I needed more evidence.  I needed to get him to talk. We both stood there in silence for another 30 seconds, and I said, “Listen, if you guys don’t want to do business, show me the door, and I can get out of here. If you are turning away money, then that’s cool with me. I will find someone else who can give me what I need. I just heard you were the man to talk to for things like this. Professional with quality goods.”

Again, silence until he said, “Who sent you, and what are you looking for?”  I gave him the name of the informant gave us and just enough background on the guy to make it seem legitimate. I hoped. He nodded slowly and said, “What are you looking for?”  Ice broken, I ran off a list of things we “needed”.  There were some esoteric things on the list that we hoped he had because it would put him and the rest of them in prison for the rest of their lives.  Again, he nodded and said, “I’ve got that. But ah, what do you need all that for?” 

Okay, this is not an unusual question, but “Listen, Mr.?? Like you, we have our own need for discretion. I’m told that all the gear you sell is untraceable, which is part of why you get paid extra. It’s why I am here, your rep is that you can desperately supply damn near anything a man can need from a weapons standpoint.” I said. He nodded sagely again. It was when I heard footsteps coming down one of the isles of the racking.

A middle-aged man came into view with a tablet in his hands. He was beefy but not like these guys. He stood around 6’1" and had a belly, but his shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick and hard. He looked like your office type of guy who worked out—a guy who wrestled in high school but got a bit soft around the middle. He looked at me as he walked over to the “Boss,” leaned over, and whispered in his ear.  I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could see the Bosses eyes. Those hard eyes did two things: they went ice cold, and an evil glint twinkled in them. His bearded mouth smirked. The guy with the tablet reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clear bag wrapped around a mesh of wire. Oh shit. I could see my phone in the bag, a Faraday bag. My hand went to the 4th button on my shirt and started tapping It discretely.

“How long do you think it will take them to get here?” the Boss asked. He looked at me with a smile that did not reach his eyes. My finger was pressing against the button now, not trying to hide it. “What are you talking about? “I said, trying to keep my voice even. He stood up then, and I could see he was about 6’6” and seemed to be damn near that wide. I took an involuntary step back and bumped into something, make that someone. I started to turn when two massive pairs of hands grabbed my arms and held me in place—the two guards from out front were behind me and holding me in their vice-like grip. The Boss's smile became a grin as he walked toward me.

I sputtered and said a bunch of things that did nothing in the long run. When he stood in front of me, it was like being in the shadow of a giant monolith. Everything seemed small around him—insignificant.  He simply said, “Shhhhhh!” to me, and I quieted.

Turning to the guy with the tablet, he said, “Which one is it?” The tablet tech guy stepped in front, looked me up and down, and stopped at the buttons on the shirt. From somewhere, the tech guy pulled out a big folding knife and snapped it open. I jumped and tried to pull back. The hands holding me tightened painfully on my arms, shoulder, and neck, lifting me to my toes. The beefy tech expertly moves the knife to slide under the 3rd and 4th buttons on my shirt, slicing them off into his hand. Looking at them closely, he turned to the Boss and said, “Camera and emergency transmitter. They look like something Mossad made last year. It's pretty good tech. Not as good as ours, but pretty damn good. We’ve been blocking the signals since he got in the van. The camera is running on local storage since he came into the bar.  As far as they can tell, he disappeared when he left the bar. I’ve been retransmitting a false signal west of the city; they should be trailing him out past Naperville and Westmont about now. “

The massive man smiled genuinely and clapped the tech on his shoulder. “Good job as per usual Al. Lead the signal out toward the compound in western Iowa. You know, those wingnut survivalists the FBI is always looking at. Make it end there for now.”  The tech guy started to walk away, and the Boss said, “Wait, keep this with those.” He lifted the Faraday bag my phone was in, and I watched his gloved hand crumple the metal like it was a beer can. He crushed it once, then casually twisting it in his hand, crushed it again until it resembled a ragged ball of steel and glass.  He handed the bag and demolished phone to Al the tech.

Turning back to me, he leaned over and said, “Listen, I don’t have time to listen to your lies and denials. Then threats. Not only does nobody know you’re here, but they don’t even know who took you. Al will lead them on a nice little electronic goose chase through western Iowa, where they will raid that right-wing survivalist fuckers. When they don’t find you there, your handlers will be at a dead in.”

His big, gloved hand engulfed my chin, and he moved closer, “Right now, my boys here are going to have some fun. They like to pay with their food. Eventually you’ll tell them what I need to know.”  He said. The massive men holding him grunted in agreement. He pulled back with a dangerous smirk, and his big gloved hand patted my face roughly as he turned and walked back over to the bench.

The guy holding me shifted and the one on my left quickly slid his arms under mine and put me in a full nelson. The other guy walked around in front of me and, after rolling his shoulders, slammed his fist into my gut. Then again and again. The guy holding me pulled me up, and I could see the Boss back at his worktable and the Tech guy looking at me. His eyes were watching with lust and need as those guys were working me over. The Boss absently looked up and said, “Fellas, take your fun elsewhere. I’ve got work to do. They replied, “Sure thing, Boss.”  They started dragging me away when the Boss said, “Boys, it’s been a while, so, take your time and enjoy yourselves. Also, take Al with you; you know he likes to watch.”  All three of them said, “Thanks, Boss,” in unison as they dragged me away.

[lokiusly]

imagine shaming shippers for feeling lololol

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

[makismei]

in the same universe as this :,) cw: toy usage, hint of brat taming, hints of sadism & machoism, 18+ content, overstim, dubious consent, soft :(

“you’re doing it again,” he deadpans, knocking your thighs open, “keep. them. open.”

pearly slick oozes from your cunt, soiling the newly washed sheets and sticking to your inner thighs. toji sits in front of you, a blank look on his face but you know how he’s truly feeling from his eyes.

lidded and intently focused on your poor, leaky cunt, he mindlessly goes through a small box on the bed, feeling around for what feels interesting.

it’s your box of sex toys. the ones you used before you started dating the man in front of you. it’s been a while since you’ve reached for them, since it feels like toji knows your body wayyy more than you do, and also because he gets you there, he doesn’t let you escape until you’ve gone brainless from all the orgasms he’s blessed you with. why would you ever need to do the work again?

but toji isn’t all too familiar with adult toys. of course, he knows about the basics—dildos and vibrators, but when he accidentally stumbled upon this little treasure box of yours (his own words), curiosity took over him. he’s never seen pieces of silicone and plastic look so lewd, and the look on your face was so precious, he just had to try them.

“hmm,” lowly, he calls your name, “what’s this?”

heavy eyelids blink open, registering what’s in his hand before you shoot up, attempting to scurry away but your bed isn’t that big and his reflexes are out of this world—

“that’s a reaction,” he grins, eyeing the small red toy, shaped like a flower. “you used this one a lot?”

you shake your head, cheeks burning and eyes welling up with tears. crocodile tears, toji raises a brow, beckoning you to continue.

“‘s too much, it..” you trail off, breaking your gaze, but his hand guides you back, gently thumbing your cheek.

“you’re in control baby,” he whispers, “i won’t do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

of course you know, that’s why you let him do whatever the hell he wants with you. and frankly, him using that cursed little rose toy is making you more excited than you thought.

“it… made me squirt for the first time…” you squeak, speeding up with each word spoken, “i only used it a few times because the first setting was already too m—hold on, waitwaitwait—”

“this?” he drags you back, spreading your legs to make room for himself, “m’ gonna have fun with this.”

“toji,” you weep, anticipating, and he knows, a soothing hand caressing your thighs and waist, “m’ nervous.”

and toji knows he’s sick and utterly deplorable, because your reaction is turning him on. he’s excited, out of the few he’s tested already and the others yet to come, he has an inkling of a feeling that this one will be his favourite.

“s’ okay,” he coos, “what’s your word, gorgeous?”

“ginza…” the city you met him in. a little corny, but it works.

he hums, smiling. “you ready?”

you nod, shyly looking up before correcting yourself, “yes.. m’ ready.”

it doesn’t take him long at all to figure out the buttons. there’s only two after all, the power button and the other one that controls the settings.

the buzz makes you tense up, but you relax slightly under your boyfriend’s loving touch.

he spreads your lower lips with a thumb and pointer finger, whistling lowly. he lazily collects your juices, smearing it over your clit.

with bated breaths, you let out a quiet cry when the suction latches onto your swollen clit. back arching almost immediately, toji’s shocked by your reaction. he grins, amused. cute, he thinks, watching you drool and squeal.

you’re surprisingly still, muscles tense and lost hands trying to find purpose.

would it be too much if he started fingering you?

you let out a long wail, head jolting to look down at him. he’s smirking, pleased with your shocked expression.

but he’ll be nice, for now, only sliding in one finger as he eyes your reaction.

it hasn’t even been long, maybe just over two minutes, but by the telltale squeeze of your cunt on his finger he knows you’re cumming.

“already?” he laughs, crooking his finger just right, “no way.”

“i—i told yooouuuu!” you’re absolutely gone when he presses against that little spot inside of you, screeching as your body locks up. toji feels his finger being pushed out, a stream of liquid following, splashing lewdly from your cunt.

and god, just at the sight of you, the sounds you’re making—he’s about to lose it. but he grits his teeth, using a free hand to quickly hold himself off.

he takes the toy away, turning it off, but still stimulating you with his thumb. your body starts quivering from all the pleasure and it’s been a while since he’s seen you cum like that; he worries for a moment that he pushed you too hard.

but he lets you ride it out, quiet sobs of pleasure filling the room. your head is turned to the side, shaking hands covering your face. he praises you softly, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to the inner side of your knee.

when he sees you’ve calmed down, he gently moves your hands away, pressing a kiss to your tear soaked cheeks, both sides, before kissing you deeply. you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

when he pulls away, he cradles your face in his hands. “how was that?”

it feels like a fire ignites beneath your skin, his stare rapt and focused only on you.

your eyes shift away, meek and ashamed, “i liked it…”

“don’t get all shy with me doll,” he grouses, “i gotta know how you feel.”

your hips are still twitchy, eyes glazed over. “toji,” you whine softly, tears pooling in your eyes yet again and this time he’s actually worried. “m’ not lying… it felt so good, but i’m really embarrassed.”

“baby,” he coos, chastely kissing your lips, “s’ okay, s’ nothing you need to be embarrassed about.”

he turns you both over, so you’re laying on his chest. you listen to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and true. the warmth of his body is soothing, his fingers tapping up and down your spine.

“toji,” you call, meek and unsure. he hums.

“i love you,” you mutter, raising your head, “i know we don’t say it a lot, b-but—”

he smiles, all the way from his lips to his eyes. his entire face lights up, “if i knew making you cum real hard makes you a softy—ow! okay! don’t bite me!”

he’s laughing, hand brushing the hair from your face. “i love you. more than you’ll never know, doll.”

it’s resolute, he’s so unashamed that it’s annoying.

you grumble, hiding your face in his chest. your breath stutters when you feel his cock poke your leg.

“sorry,” he chuckles, “he likes you.”

“shut up,” you mumble, hand reaching back. it’s searingly hot and heavy in your hand. you can feel one of his veins pulsing under your touch.

“sweets,” he panics, “s’ okay, jus’ leave it… holy shiitttt..”

you whine, thighs quivering at the feeling of his leaky tip pressing against your slit.

“tojiii,” you drool, looking up at him, “i want it.”

he rubs a hand over his reddening face, unsure. need is taking over him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold back. “baby, can you handle it?”

you nod, “yes, yes please,” you call his name, drawn out and needy and fuck, he’d be a shit boyfriend if he doesn’t give his lady what she wants right?

[gojoest]

curiosity — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, childhood friends to lovers, satoru is painfully aware of his own feelings while reader is not, mention of past girlfriends (and how they all looked like you), handjob (m! receiving), cumming in pants (and in your hand), not proofread, wc: 2k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

synopsis: gojo satoru is your childhood best friend. you’ve been inseparable ever since you were little. spending day and night together, you’d often have sleepovers together — a tradition you both carried on throughout your college years. at least once a week you’d drop by his dorm room and stay the night, or vice versa. but compared to your childhood days, you no longer share one bed. that is, until . . .

part 2

a/n: this is a further (and very lousy) elaboration on this post of mine but hey, HAPPY BDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY

“i think we should try sleeping together”, you suggest one night.

“wah—“, satoru gasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. “didn’t know you felt that way about me”, he smirks.

“just sleeping”, you quickly clarify. “whatever obscene thing you just thought of — it’s not that”, you add, giving him a roll of your eyes.

“you should pick your words more wisely”, he scoffs. “if you go around telling people you want to sleep with them, they will misunderstand”

“ugh”, you huff, “i obviously didn’t mean it like that, and you know it”

“yeah, i do”, he lets out a soft chuckle. he knew exactly what you meant, but still he disguised his wishful thinking behind a teasing remark. “why though? all of a sudden?”

“dunno”, you shrug. “just feeling bad that you always take the floor”

“if that’s the case we can just swap”

“no — i cherish my comfort. come on, we used to do this all the time”, you pout.

indeed you did. but you were kids back then, things were different.

his heartbeat would race and his face would get all hot and red, the heat would fester through his entire body. but when the lights were off it was easy to hide it, the signs that he liked you. after making sure you were fast asleep, he would hold your hand and childishly smile to himself, he would peck it softly, secretly. one time you woke up in the middle of the night and almost caught him but he, startled, kicked you off the bed. yelling at you, lying, how you pushed your finger in his nostril in your sleep… he was so embarrassed, but also relieved you believed what he said was true. his secret was safe.

but now?

when you stand too close to him his body starts acting up in more mature ways. while he is better at controlling his facial expressions now and hiding his nervous heartbeat behind a nonchalant attitude, he struggles with keeping his urges at bay. he’s no longer the boy that blushes while secretly holding your hand; he is a man who craves you.

even when he’s laid on the futon beside the bed you occupy, the sound of your breathing alone gets him hard. you lie there, sleeping innocently, unaware of how much of a pain in the crotch you are being to him. when you leave in the mornings, he climbs onto the bed that is soaked with your scent and shamelessly jerks off. he stands on his knees and sprays his load on the bedsheets. eyes shut close, he pictures you beneath him.

he sighs in defeat. “fine”

“the right side is mine — it’s only natural, because i am always right”, you snicker and quickly pad over to the bed, plopping your body down on the mattress. “sure”, he chuckles and follows after you, sinking himself right next to you.

it is a bit awkward, you must admit. you are laid on your sides facing each other, in silence.

it’s cramped indeed, your knees are brushing against his and the space in the middle separating your bodies from one another is very scarce. but that was to be expected, the beds in the dorm rooms were designed for one person after all.

“so”, you break the silence. “how’s your girlfriend doing?”

“she’s not my girlfriend, anymore”, he states dryly.

“but it’s been barely two weeks since you started dating”

“well, things didn’t work out i guess”

the girls he dated, all of them looked a bit like you. same height, same hair color and length. similar facial features… he never lasted long with any of them though. all of them, visibly bothered by your presence in his life, would too soon ask him to make a choice — either them or you. neither of them aware that he chose to be with them in the first place only because they reminded him of you, and that it was never the question itself that drove him away from them. it was bound to happen, sooner or later. they could never be you.

you hum. “i see”

as you shift to make yourself more comfortable, you feel the shirt he gave you to wear to bed roll up ever so slightly, revealing the bare of your belly. a bit self-conscious now that he’s next to you, you are immediately urged to cover yourself. you slide a hand under the blanket, rummaging around to get a hold of the hem, but oh...

…the back of your hand brushes against something stiff. the friction incurring a low pant from the man, your best friend, next to you.

“fuck”, satoru hisses. his hand clasps around your wrist, pushing it away, but along with the movement his knuckles graze the flesh of your stomach. “fuck”, he curses again.

“satoru”, you say his name, voice hushed and timid but there is a note of underlying curiosity he is way too familiar with.

this is exactly why he was avoiding the one bed scenario — his boners were too hard to hide at this age and this size of him.

“satoru”, you repeat. “are you hard?”

“i wish you didn’t ask the obvious”, he mumbles, embarrassed. warmth washing over his face uncontrollably, just like in the past. but there was a bigger problem now — down in his pants, and the fact he got caught.

“is it because of me?”

“no”, he clicks his tongue, his grip still tight around your wrist, keeping your hand at bay. “it’s because i didn’t jerk off tonight, you know — it’s a natural thing for us men to randomly pop a boner throughout the day”

…which was true. but it was not the case right now.

“can i play with it a little?”, you ask, sneakily twisting your wrist in an attempt to free your hand.

“oi!”, he yelps. “did you hit you head or what?”

“i am curious”, you blurt out. “just a little?”

“stop”, he warns. “it’s weird”

his resolve is hanging by a thread right now, you’re too cunning to tempt him like this. he knows things will get awfully messy between you if he lets you cross this line. but still, he can’t flat out deny you. deep down he wants you to persist, a little bit more… if you ask him one more time, maybe he’ll crumble. surely, he will.

“it’s not”, you reassure. “i won’t jerk you off, i’ll just touch it”, you explain. “please? just a little?”

well. fuck it.

“this is a bad idea”, he says, but loosens his grip around your wrist. “fine”, he mumbles. “but just a little”

you nod, pulling your hand away only to slide it down his body.

you’re not really sure why you were so happy to hear the news about his break-up, but you always felt more at ease when he belonged just to you. your best friend, and not someone else’s boyfriend. you don’t know why you were doing this right now, or why your heart was racing. maybe because it really was weird? or maybe you were just horny?

finding his cock wasn’t difficult, it sure stood out from the rest of his body.

“you really are hard”, you gasp, running your fingers across the bulge in his shorts, dragging out a throaty groan out of him.

“yeah”, he mumbles. “like i said, stop stating the obvious”

“it’s a bit wet here”, ignoring his words, you thumb the spot where his tip is, making him squirm. his body slightly jerks as you press your palm against it. cupping it inside your hand you squeezing it gently. “it’s warm too”, you keep exploring further. “it has a pulse”

satoru lets out a helpless whine. “you sound so dirty right now, it’s weird”

he’s longed for this type of intimacy with you for years. but in his head, he pictured it differently. it was him who was supposed to do things to you, not the other way around. he was supposed to be the confident one, delving into your layers, making you squirm and fall apart under his touch. not the other way around… but this was good too. too good for him to oppose it. you were his weakness, after all. you always have been. no matter how much he teased and picked on you, in the end he always let you do as you pleased. this was not an exception.

you giggle to yourself. “yeah? you like that new side of me, don’t you?”

“…maybe”

sneaking your hand through the front of his shorts and boxers, you feel the flesh of his cock directly. it was twitching, his tip slick with precum. you put the tip of your index finger on his slit and rub circles around it to smear the pre oozing out of it, getting another soft whimper out of him. the head of his cock all slippery now, urging you to rub it all over the rest of his length.

your fingers wrap around his cock as you start to move your hand up and down, slowly, smearing his own slick onto his own flesh.

he tries to swallow the moan stuck in his throat. “you said you were not going to jerk me off, but what now? you’re playing a bit too much, don’t you think?”

satoru can last long. under normal circumstances, that is. but having you — not just his hand, but you, his first ever love, his only love — touch him like that, he could barely hold back. the urge to bust has been there since the moment you put your hand on his cock.

“why? you gonna cum?”, you slip your hand lower, down to the base of his shaft — where his balls are. you caress them tenderly, incurring yet another soft groan from him, before you go back to stroking him again. with each drag you pick up the pace. the room is filled with the squelching sounds caused by your hand, at this point, confidently fisting his slick covered cock, and his heavy breathing. 

“hey”, he puts his hand on your cheek, softly pinching on it with his fingertips. an attempt to make you snap out of it, but alas — you don’t back away. “don’t regret this”, he whispers, almost beggingly. but his voice comes out too shallow for your ears to pick up on.

“are you close?”, you peek at him, watching his face with rapt fascination, grateful that you left the night lamp on.

never have you ever seen him like this. his cheeks so hot and flushed that his pale skin was lit completely red, up to his ears and his neck. beads of sweat across his forehead with strands of his hair stuck on it. mouth agape — huffing and puffing. his brows knitted, desperately. pleadingly. his mouth telling you to stop, yet his face told a different story. so did the part of him inside your palm. it made you throb, down there, and squeeze your thighs together. your own wetness spurting out from your slit, drenching the inside of your underwear”

“fuck—", he growls. “i am— c-close”, he stutters, struggling to control his breathing and the moans that roll out of his mouth.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand, differently. the pulse on it beating faster and more brashly, like it almost made his skin stretch and push against the flesh of your palm. and then, there was a delay. a few, very short seconds in which his cock stood still before violently exploding, pumping out a thick shot of cum. then some more, and more, and more — until the pouring turned into a light dribble toward the end.

“ugh”, he throatily groans, his body relaxing after oozing all the tension out. although slower now, you keep stroking him, running your fingers across his softening cock.

“oh wow”, you gasp, his cum sticky on your skin, drenching the space between your fingers. “what a mess”, you giggle.

“you’re trouble”, he sighs. “is your curiosity satisfied now?”

you nod.

“if you get curious about other things”, he pauses, scratching the back of his head, “come to me. don’t go to other men”

“i’ll think about it”, you smirk.

after that night, you stayed over for an entire week.

this little play time turned into routine, and you were no longer the only one playing.

[kamitv]

Higuruma’s the kinda guy that has no idea how the hell he pulled you so every time your eyes linger on him a little bit too long, he gets nervous as fuck. Sweat will trickle down the back of his neck and he gulps loudly enough for you to hear it, to which you start smiling at him.

Those wide-set eyes of his carefully drag back over to you and he notices the way you’re staring at his nose. You always gush about how much you love that part of his face and ever since then he can’t control the twitch beneath his slacks as he replays exactly why you love his nose so much in his head.

And hey, it’s no help that you’re sitting right on top of him right now. Your manicured nails that he paid for grazing all over his skin, touching his neck, his jawline, and soon his face too. Then you lean in and kiss the bridge of his nose so softly that it makes him grunt.

“You’re so perfect Hiromi,” You’d hush out to him in that tone you know drives him craze.

Higuruma is left slouching further back into the couch and spreading his legs further apart with a not-so-subtle roll of his hips upwards against you. “Please. That’s all you, sweetheart.” He tries to play it off as if he’s not complete putty in your hands but lord knows when you start trailing your touch down his breath his hitching in his throat.

You smile—a sight he can never get enough of, truly. “Take the compliment, Hiro. I’m bein’ serious…” Your fingers are wrapping around his tie now and his eyelids are all low on you.

Still trying to play it off, this time with a chuckle, he hums. “…Thank you, love.” He’s such a gentleman too, all easygoing and relaxed for you.

Which says a lot considering the kind of man he becomes while he’s fucking you.

Higuruma isn’t exactly mean, nor is he much of a talker during sex but… His cock damn sure says a lot as he later fucks up into you just to hear those sweet praises you give him.

You just love complimenting your man and he loves being complimented—honestly the perfect match for each other.

Every moan of his name that leaves your lips only drive him deeper and deeper inside you. He’s so stupidly in love with you and most times it shows through sex instead of words. Despite how he’ll have you bouncing up and down on his left curved cock for hours, this is the most passion you’ll get from the overworked man.

And when he does open his mouth to speak, your cunt is fluttering around his thick head. Whispering a crisply husk utterance of, “Fuck. Ride me, love. Ride me juuus’ like that. Y-Yeahhh. Shit. Love these fuckin’ hips, don’t stop movin’ ‘em.”

Your moaning grows louder by the second and he’s guiding you up and down his dick, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every perfect slam of your ass down onto him. His groans are so deep that they practically bounce off of the walls of your living room, leading you to clamp around him tighter than before.

Higuruma especially loves your nails for some reason. He can’t get enough of how they feel ghosting his skin every time you move your arms or whenever you move to grab ahold of his face and lean down to kiss him. That’s why he’s always paying for them (even though he secretly loves spoiling you too).

Then, when you get a bit more confident and slip your hands down to hold onto his arms, he groans again. His grip on your hips would tighten and there’s just one wet plop after another while you ride him in earnest.

Which is what prompts filthy words to pour out of his mouth like, “Uhuh, fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl. C’mon, you can do it. Make yourself feel good. Use me baby, use me.”

Again, he’s not much of a talker but sometimes you cause the words to just spill from his lips. While he’s spewing filth out to you, you’re getting closer and closer to a messy release. It’s right as you’re about to cum that he demands you look him in the eyes (no matter the position) so that he can watch them gloss over as you cum all around his girthy cock.

You look so fucking gorgeous when you come undone too—it’s a sight Higuruma simply can’t get enough of. Half the time, he ends up fucking his cum up into you just because of that look alone. You wouldn’t even be able to move or run from his deep thrusts, feeling every inch of his carry against your walls until his cum is fucked all the way in to the point that it’s dribbling out of you.

It’s messy but, he loves it. He loves you. And even after sex, he still doesn’t understand how the hell he’s managed to bag a beautiful woman such as yourself…

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

“-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[jlheon]

𝓜𝐒. & 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ 𝐏��𝐇

(𝓹airing) — psh x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓯renemies to lovers ; fluff, profanity, & lots of kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand five-hundred forty 𝓹eng's note. these pics. #iWantThat 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon

“you’re late,” sunghoon says in the most agitating voice possible as you walk through the classroom door.

“i wouldn’t be late if you did your job,” you huff, walking right up to the desk he sat at and dropping the bags of decorations you had picked up from the party supplies store.

“hey! i said i would pick those up!” he says annoyed, sifting through everything you brought.

“mrs. kim said we needed them by today! why the fuck were you just sitting around?” 

“geez, loosen up,” the boy gets up from his seat, his tall body looming over yours. “let’s just go decorate the gym.”

the two of you split up the bags of party supplies and headed towards the gym where the rest of the council and student volunteers were waiting. 

setting up for the fundraiser was easy until you and sunghoon started yelling at each other over which color streamers should be used over the doorway. 

jake had to drag you away by the shoulders to come to help him with the balloons. sunghoon felt a bitter taste when he saw jake with his arm around your shoulder but decided to ignore it. 

“hoon,” jungwon calls out. “we’re out of balloons!”

“that’s why i should have bought the decorations…” sunghoon mutters under his breath before walking up to where you and jake were giggling. 

sunghoon walks up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “we have to go back to the store.” he whispers in your ear. 

you freeze at his touch but nod and say goodbye to jake. he lets go of you and the two of you walk out the exit leading to the parking lot.

the two of you get into sunghoon’s car and he drives off to the mall. 

there’s an awkward silence between the both of you, which you can’t decide if you like bantering with him over it. there’s so much tension due to sunghoon’s lingering touch from earlier.

once inside the mall, you quietly walked side by side into the automatic doors. 

only a few feet from the party supplies stores you halt. spotting your ex-boyfriend and old friend seemingly on a date.

“sunghoon,” you whisper, tapping on his shoulder. “do you see what i see?”

he rolls his eyes at you finally breaking the silence but then looks up to see for himself. once he does that the two seem to have had the same idea, making eye contact with the other.

“oh shit they saw us,” he panics, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the photo booth you were conveniently standing next to.   

the photo booth is small. way too small. sunghoon is already sitting as you uncomfortably sit on the ledge with your legs peeking out from the curtain. 

“get up,” he instructs. 

“what?” you raise an eyebrow. “i’m not letting them see me again! especially not with you!”

“i meant like come here,” sunghoon grabs you and settles you on his lap, so the both of you fit into the small space.

“oh my god, what if they come over here!” you panic resting your hands on his shoulders. “this is bad! especially since i’m with you of all people-”

“with me?” sunghoon questions. 

“well, like when we were dating, he always thought you had a crush on me, which isn’t impossible! i had to keep reassuring him but he never believed me! like me and you are barely even friends-” you ramble, balling sunghoon’s shirt in your fists as you freak out. 

“woah, calm down,” he tells you, prying your hands from his uniform so you don’t wrinkle it. “it’s not like they’ll come to talk to us.”

just as the words left his mouth the sound of two sets of footsteps were picked up by your ears. you started to become overwhelmingly nervous. it was the first time seeing your ex-boyfriend since the split and the fact your childhood best friend was on a date with him. 

even if you drifted, shouldn’t she have some sense of girl code?

“you’re shaking,” sunghoon stares at you. 

“no i’m not!” you shake your head, your heartbeat being undeniably fast. “but like i haven’t had a date since him and that’s kind of sad for me-”

“i swear i saw her,” the familiar voice of your old friend says, sounding so close. “it could have been anyone though.”

“no, i saw her and that motherfucker,” your ex hisses. 

“wow, i’m ‘motherfucker’,” sunghoon whispers, rolling his eyes.

“if he made a move on her i swear.”

“hey, i have an idea,” he says in your ear. 

sunghoon reaches for his phone out of his pocket, holding you close as he leans over slightly to pay the machine for a photo. the screen activates after processing his card and he selects a random frame. 

the camera starts going and you sit confused as sunghoon starts posing. you can’t help but watch him. he always looks pretty but you must admit he knows how to pose. 

you peek over to the curtain to see two pairs of legs standing outside the photo booth. you can only assume it’s them. 

“you weren’t looking in any of them,” sunghoon recalls, pressing print on the screen. 

“oh, sorry,” you turn your attention back to him. 

“it’s fine, let's do another one,” he says nonchalantly as he pays for another photo strip.

this time sunghoon shifts in his spot, making it so that your face can be seen on the screen without having to turn you around in his lap.

you awkwardly copy sunghoon’s poses until by the second to last picture you hear him again.

“that fucker is in the photo booth,” the male voice outside says, seeing as he drops the photo strip back into where it fell from. 

“come closer,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“fine,” you lean onto him. “but don’t show my face too much. i’m not wearing concealer today.”

“you look just as pretty,” sunghoon leans closer so your lips barely brush the others. “maybe even prettier than usual.”

he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, gently stroking it before closing the gap. 

you hate to admit it but kissing sunghoon was everything you expected and more. you’ve caught yourself daydreaming about his lips on yours during one-on-one meetings in the conference room. when his hair is still damp from his after-shower practice and his face is still slightly flushed.

park sunghoon can make you mad, especially when he got secretary over you in freshman year. but you cannot deny that even when bitter about the council's choice you wanted to kiss that proud smile on his face. 

he made you mad when he stole your posters when you were running for secretary again the next year. but after he found you crying in the far stairwell he explained he only did that because he thinks you should run for president instead. sunghoon even pulled out another stack of flyers he made for you that he spent the whole night doing.

the sunghoon that got you both kicked out of a council meeting for arguing with each other is the same sunghoon with his lips molded perfectly against yours. 

the same boy that had you studying your ass off when class ranks came out, since he’s your only competition, is the same boy in front of you now with his lips locked on yours.

you start to feel dizzy by the decreased amount of air in your lungs by the minute but you can’t bring yourself to let go just yet. when you start seeing black specs dotting your vision you finally pull away to see a heavily panting sunghoon with a flushed face. 

“sorry,” sunghoon apologizes as he catches his breath.

your heart sinks. he only kissed you to distract you and probably so your ex will see the photos when they print.

“oh,” you fight the frown threatening to appear on your face. “it’s okay. he’s probably gone now.”

“i would have asked for your permission but you looked really stressed and i thought it would help you get your mind off your asshole ex.”

“thanks,” you say with a pout sunghoon finds adorable.

“you still seem sad,” he pokes at your sides, making you squirm in his hold. “maybe another kiss?”

“maybe,” you say shyly. 

sunghoon is out forty dollars by the time you and he are done kissing in the photo booth. he kept mindlessly swiping his card as his lips stayed on yours to prevent anyone from kicking you two out since you were there for a considerable amount of time.

you’re interrupted by sunghoon’s phone ringing profusely. 

“where are you two?” jungwon asks in a panic. “we need those balloons.”

“traffic,” sunghoon says as you plant a line of kisses down his neck, hands tangled in the hair at his nape.

“hurry up,” jungwon advises him.

you and sunghoon return to school an hour and a half after you originally left. with a bag of balloons and a stack of photo strips. most of them capturing purely just of you two making out.

when stepping foot in the gym and you go over to hand jungwon the balloons he so desperately needed. he quickly notices the matching hickeys forming on both your necks and how disheveled your uniforms and hair appear.

“traffic huh?” jungwon asks as his eyes flicker between both of you.

"lots," you nod as you walk away to help minjeong tie balloons.

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.