#I feel like not so good parts really weighed it down

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't exactly what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem exactly uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind her and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe you the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in your without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

#smutfic #leon s kennedy x reader #cw incest #tw inc*st #dark content #dead dove fic #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you

[gffa]

Im having tons of fun crawling all over your dick grayson tag and checking out the comics you've commented on. Batman year one:scarecrow has to be my favorite bbydick and bruce dynamic lol, but also if my dad nerve pinched ME to keep me out of the fight idve gone ballistic immediately upon waking. Betcha dick made *very sure* bruce could never keep him out of a fight that way again (though i didn't quite understand what dick meant when he said he feared batman in a godfearing way? Like its a raw as hell line but i dont quite get what he meant)

Excellentttttt, there's a lot of really fun Dick Grayson comics out there, and that one is just an absolute joy. (I would also recommend One Bad Day: Mr. Freeze, because I think it captures the same feral gremlin angel baby energy of Year One: Batman/Scarecrow! But also Robin & Batman. And Batman: Dark Victory.) The art combined with the dynamic is just so top-tier:

Dick just REFUSING to be serious about Bruce's cranky moods!

Dick casually flinging himself upside down on the couch while talking to Bruce! Refusing to let Bruce snipe at him, he's serious about this, too, you know! What's making you such a pill tonight?

Dick scooting under Bruce's arm to get a better look at some evidence in their case, like he's so little! And he just WRIGGLES RIGHT IN THERE, absolutely no thought for personal space! Or leans his head right on Batman's arm to get a closer look! And that's something that will continue even when he's big as an adult, he has never met personal space of a loved one that he would not casually violate!

Hopping up on the table to curl up with his arms around his knees, like he's not a tiny baby child, and going, "Bruce, seriously, something's wrong, talk to me." as if he's the adult in this situation while sitting there like a TINY BABY CHILD.

Leaving money for a guy they just beat up!

Bruce PICKING HIM UP BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK like he weighs nothing, like he's just a pet cat to haul out of harm's way!

Dick trying to flirt with the receptionist and Bruce LOOMING with a cracking knuckles gesture, like if you even THINK about taking this tiny baby child seriously about how he's offering a date, it will not end well.

THEN MOVING DICK OUT OF THE WAY BY PUTTING ONE HAND ON HIS FACE AND SHOVING, I love Bruce, he's awful and the best.

Dick noticing details and asking really good questions, like that kid may not be as trained as Bruce is yet, but it definitely shows he had a natural affinity for detective work, that he's probably genuinely one of the best detectives out there after Bruce himself!

But also the "god-fearing way" and the nerve pinch lend it some nice crunch, because those moments (for all that this is a genre where these things should NOT be taking totally seriously, this is comics) are really kind of fucked up. I think, while Dick doesn't fear Bruce as a person, he can see the person Bruce is underneath the persona, there's part of him that understands Bruce is not always in control of himself and he does things he later regrets because of it. The whole mini is undercurrented with Bruce being in a bad mood, being surly and snapping, beating up people with more force than needed, slamming tables in his frustration, not talking things out. Dick sees how that plays out, it's why he keeps needling Bruce to talk to him--and Dick's not going to let any of that hold him back, he clearly feels safe enough to tease Bruce, to wriggle in under his arm, to lean on him, to snap back at him. But he also knows that Bruce can do things that are terrifying. He fears that Bruce is going to shut him out. He fears for the people in Batman's way. He knows Bruce will regret those things, but when Batman swoops down on someone he sees as being in his way, that's terrifying, like a wrathful, vengeful god. He's not really bothered by the nerve pinch, he gets why Bruce did it, and it hardly slowed him down that much. He understands that it was Bruce's way of protecting him, because he didn't want Dick to get hurt, but also I think Dick probably sees it as a challenge--to avoid it or overcome it again in the future, it's good training! Like, what a beautiful, wonderful, sweet, fucked up dynamic those two have! What a hilarious feral gremlin child he is, what an incredible "the child has to be just as mature as the adult, sometimes more mature" deliciously awful dynamic that is! Anyway, if any of you others enjoy Batman comics, please read Year One: Batman/Scarecrow, it is so funny and delightful and fucked up in a way I'm not sure it meant to be but sure is tasty as hell!

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #year one: batman/scarecrow

[rach-amber]

This question has been weighing heavily on me, and I need your advice.

Has anyone made you feel bad for being a huge fan of Rachel? Or have they made you feel guilty for choosing the Sacrifice Chloe ending? For me personally, I get more people looking at me as a bad person for choosing to save the town :/ Your girl is struggling and thinking about leaving the fandom because of these things.

Omg, thank you for asking this. No. Despite all the hate Rachel gets I know that it all stems from a place of misunderstanding/blindness towards who she really is, ignorance of the context of her circumstances and/or just pure biasness against AmberPrice. I'd say that choosing to save a town shows that you're a person with a big heart that cares for a greater number of people, which in a way is doing the right thing morally. It's actually a + point in my eyes. (Lmao I love Chloe but she literally said maybe it's her destiny and wants to save her family too, are they deaf for not hearing that part?? Let her be a hero and do what she wishes to do, is that so wrong? People be like nah imma save her cuz *I* love her and *I* care about her the most. Where's the altruism?) but still, I respect both decisions and choices.

As for those people that guilt-trip you or make you feel bad for liking the sweet girl Rachel and choosing a morally sound ending, best thing to do is to ignore them or stop talking to them specifically. (Blocking helps, too) There's more to the LiS fandom than those people, like I've met people who chose bay and love Rachel as much as I do as well, or good people that respect your choice because they also value you as a person. I'd say stick around with those people and this part of the fandom that you resonate with / don't have to feel bad about, and leave those that makes you feel bad for doing absolutely nothing wrong/liking a well-deserved character for her humanity, behind.

So yeah no one could really change my opinion much 😂 I wouldn't feel bad because I'm liking a lovable character! HAHAHAH idk if it's just cuz I'm stubborn, but finding the right people and those that respect you is also important. To quote a friend, it's 'AmberPrice against the world' really.

Hit me with those bastards that dare to make you feel bad or guilty for these things. We'll show them some true colours. (Pun unintended?) Their arguments are literally not sound and can be broken with some logical reasoning 😂

I hope you never feel that way. Know that I and those who love Rachel and AmberPrice have got your back girl!! 🧡🩵

Source: @erudapyon

And to the haters, You Need to Calm Down 😑 respect that people have their own opinions, shh, it's okay. This fandom should be a wholesome place instead of being divided by the choices in the game.

#life is strange #rachel amber #chloe price #amberprice #lis #fandom #chloe and rachel #amberprice against the world #life is strange before the storm #lis fanart #rachel x chloe #lis bts #rachel amber 4ever #lgbtq+ #lis: bts #ask

[this-should-do]

god i think the best part of hl3 vr for me, something that still sticks woth me is rising up in the citadel and just seeing c17 sprawled out below you, even tho its just a google maps image of new york,

seeing it like that when just before you were out figbting in the trenches with everyone it felt so,,, small and fragile and i felt even smaller rising up above it every problem just seemed to disappear i could almost forget a war was being eaged down below and that what i was foghting was so large so as to be beyond my xomprehension, it made everything so hopeful and small like i was going somewhere that everyone was going somewhere,

and it reminded me of how astronauts when they see earth from space and the moon and how every imaginary line and every problem in the world seemed so small and so easy to solve, and how small and mortal and fragile the earth itself was never mind them thrmselves (its called the overview effect btw, i was reading a lil bit about it on wikipedia and it had a section about how vr can mimic this effect, granted it was focussed on mimicing it by simulating seei g the earth, and its like yeah it really fucking can, doesnt even have to be seeing the earth)

so ever since i sae c17 from so high up ive been thinking about making a comic woth a quote from an astronaut about how they felt seeing space so ive compuled sum of my favs becuz i cnat decide which ones i want to use, so enjoy them

#that feeling was just so overhelming #i dont know if valve intended that to be part of what u feel when u go uo in the citadel cuz playing tbe game normal i never really felt #anything quite like i did in vr #but #im glad they gave us that view #its was so overehelmingly beaitiful and i still think about it #it mightve been my fav part of hl2 vr honestly #it was such a visceral feeling #and i think that gordon (who ive recently decided is afraid of heights) is for just those few moments #forgets evruthing #his fear of heights his worries about the rebellion where hes bekng tsken to everything #and is just teminded that the earth is still there its still so fragile but still so e compassi gly large and strong #i feel like that moment might feel so good in the moment but when hes got such a large responsibility #being given that moment of clarity and big picture would weigh so heavily once he falls back down to earth.... #i dunno #it was an experience and one day id like everyone to be able to experience it #ponderingradioactivedecay #and god im realizing that this effect could also have interesting effects on and i fkrm us more about breen #and how ans why he axts the way he does #ciz i had that one psot about him before and remembering that feeli g really leans into mu examination fo him #which im always happy to talk about more so if anyyalld be interested send me an ask or summin and ill see if i can get #my ass to write something in an appropriate amoint of time lmao

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]

Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.

But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.

He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”

“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”

His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.

He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.

Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—

“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.

You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”

“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”

When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.

There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.

After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”

You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.

Masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #.things i write

[tinylittlebab]

:/

#ugh. i was supposed to go to the store an hour ago #my sister was out so i cant get there and im v upset cause i couldve been skipping around the garage while they were gone #im glad the main thing i have been coping with for the past 7 years is daydreaming and that i skip around while doing it #exercise tends to be difficult bc im hypermobile and a lit of excercise tends to make it worse which is really really bad #like. no amount of control and feeling good vc im starving myself is worth making my joints even worse #one of my shoulders already likes to partially dislocate just whenever and like. it hurts and sucks and i dont wanna make that worse #well. ill have lots of time to skip around soon bc the person with the car is gna be gone for a few days so the garage will be empty :D #i can use it at night when they are here but its less fun and i burn less calories so i prefer when its empty #i usually use it while both ppl are at work but they dont work friday and saturday so it tends to be bleh those days #idk. im glad that my favorite thing to do also burn calories bc i enjoy it unrelated to my ed so its less stressful #i was debating not eating till 7pm but i have such a headache ao i think ill eat some fruit. idk. my sister knows im relapsing so she might #suggest we eat something while were out. idk how she does it but she usually convinces me to which is good i guess #im not happy abt it bc i wanna starve myself but that is objectively a bad thing to be doing and even if im not happy abt it its still good #when i eat stuff. id be more fussed abt it if i knew how much i weighed but i dont have a scale #part of me is like. i dont wanna restrict until i have a scale bc then i cant watch the numbers go down #i know for a lot of people qhen they first start dieting they see quick drop and then it goes very slow and i wanna see that #im just. i dont even care much abt being skinny rn im mostly looking for the nice feeling i get when i watch the number drop #idk. maybe my sister will catch on to how bleh im doing today and suggest i buy something yummy but hopefully not although i do appreciate #when she does that. it feels nice to have someone care abt you

[noxtivagus]

hdflkjasdklf i'm just thinking of certain characters n stories hehe

#🌙.rambles #no bcs why out of all gbf characters it is Belial that is on my mind lately.. 💀 he's so sus but there's smth sad abt him to me that i think #uh. makes me. feel drawn. SOMEHOW. charas in general that like i don't like them just bcs they're sad. i just Like them n later realize how #similar i am in a way n huh. maybe part of me. perhaps not really relate but i think i understand ^ him with lucilius. but. nyways #sometimes i find myself having ideas from time to time for. scenarios n stories n maybe not super concrete? even just the idea or the #emotion & sentiment of it. even if it's a mess bcs i just dump phrases n words from time to time. #i really like reading my own words. they remind me a lot of myself n resonate a lot with me.. i wrote them all after all before. #😭 ok i just got a notif bcs i have smth due in 24 hours from now.. (-> i ended up venting again but i have no more space to tag it) #there's a lot i'm stressed abt. anxious even. it's not rlly a big deal in the end n eventually the burden of my regrets will hurt less but #noooo i keep on rambling abt that i guess there's rlly just so much weighing me down in my mind But i will persevere!!!! #imagining stuff or wtvr n indulging in. idk any form of self-expression n being creative brings me so much comfort #when the break comes i'll read books i'll write stuff too i'll watch stuff i'll play video games i'll play/listen to music i'll. yeah. Live #like i want. but like success has always still meant a lot to me i'm too strict on myself w that so w school i constantly just feel trapped #even if assignments r easy n i understand all my lessons in general. i'll pass CETs certainly i'll succeed in the future i know that's who #i'll be but every single mistake just tears me apart and makes me forget who i am as a whole. i've always been 'better' in a way than your #average person i've always mostly generally done well & good but never ever quite the 'best'. so while i do love my intelligence n all as #a whole. ffs i know better but i end up being too harsh when it comes to my shortcomings. so. stuff like stories n games n yeah #those allow me to be free in a way. from my own restraints. from my own cage. so to not. be able to do that too rlly makes me forget myself #while w work n personal stuff like that i'm mostly sure of myself but when it comes to. me w ppl in this world. it's so. unpredictable? #that's just how ppl r. it's. intriguing to me definitely but. confusing. i long to belong but it's hard when most of my life i've felt.. #i'm not rlly sure how to phrase it. it's in my head but yeah. so.. i'm rlly just a mess w that. i think i tend to isolate n distance myself #so easily bcs i fall far too much w the thought that. nothing much wld change? recently i'm so confused too bcs i'm aware of reality but #then i'm also just so confused n then a mess in general but i'm returning to like my old self when it comes to stories. embracing that agai #understanding myself a bit more while being distant w others but also lost for the very same reason. ITS SO CONFUSING n complex ofc. #which is. v human ig. but i'm not taking care of myself well so ffs it feels like i'm falling behind but i'm technically productive w work? #stuck between remembering. v well. i'm not too brain empty in the present too. n. i've been v keenly aware of the future #it's all going far too fast n i'm not keeping up Well Enough. the helplessness i think i wrote a while back #bcs i want to stop or i want to do smth or just change n get things done but it's not That easy. n it's been like this for so long now #i'll be fine my mind's just a mess rn n i'm just so frustrated w myself but i'm well enough. a bit empty but i'm fine. #there's a lot more to write n i could have done this in my notes but i'll stop anyways i'll work now. i'll try not to stay up Too late 🥹🫶🏼

[gemstone-roses]

Keep me warm

Summary: reader is terrified of storms, soaking wet, she shows up at hannibals door, terrified and needing comfort. Size kink. Cock warming.

Warnings: 18 plus only. NSFW, descriptions of a panic attack, cock warming, size kink, smut, hurt/comfort. You know the drill.

A:N- thankyou for requesting this I have been thinking about this scenario ever since! Hope your okay! Much love ❤️. I know you said you'd be fine with hc but you get a whole fic instead🥰 also I got rained on so much last week and now I'm full of cold I HATE this time of year ugh. I hope you like this I really do 🥰🥰

This might be one of my favourite things I've written.

You regret every decision you've made leading up to this point.

Grey clouds gather above you, you look up, wincing.

You thought you could make it home before the rain. Only wearing a light jacket, definitely not equipped for the kind of weather about to unleash on your head.

Fuck you whisper, hands clenching as thunder rolls in.

You shove your jacket off and hold it above your head in a pathetic attempt to retain at least a bit of dignity. You know you can't make it home with the storm, your anxiety already heightening with every crack you hear.

But you can make it to hannibal.

He's the only one who knew of your fear. Having to reveal it one day when you were both on the way to a crime scene.

The rain falls hard on the front of the car, wipers working overtime to clear it, your amazed hannibal can even see through the haze of rain. Your breath hitches as you hear the beginnings of a storm. You hoped he didn't notice. But this is hannibal. Of course he did. He glances over at you, sees your chest heaving and pulls over.

"Y/N" he says softly, shifting in his seat to face you.

But the rain is coming down so fast and hard and it's like you can feel it, in your soul. Your head spins as you try and take a deep breath. Hannibal places his hand on your thigh and squeezes, once again calling your name. When you don't look at him, he reaches out and grips your chin gently.

His face is flooded with concern

"I- can't

You push your hand into your chest, trying to ease the weight that's settled there.

"I know, I know, y/n, keep your eyes on me, okay?" Hannibal soothes.

You force yourself to keep looking at him, his big hand still rests cupping your chin, applying a slight pressure.

"Good" he smiles, hannibal weighs up the options in his head. Getting out of the car is out of the question, and he asks "do you trust me?" And you nod, so hannibal unclips your belt and says "Come here" before pulling you onto his lap. He immediately holds you tight, pushing you into his chest. "It'll be over soon my love" he soothes as he holds you against him. You can hear his heart beat as you lay on him, and eventually it calms you.

By the time you knock frantically at his door, your positively soaking wet, teeth chattering, tears blending in with the rain running down your face.

Hannibal opens the door and your hit instantly with a wall of warm. His brow furrows in concern as he takes in your state.

"S-storm" you mutter, looking down at the floor before you feel two hands wrap around your waist and pull you into the house.

Hannibal immediately pulls you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You shrink into his embrace, his presence beginning to melt away the fear you felt.

Shivers rack your body, cold setting in, hannibal holds you tighter.

'I've got you' he says.

"Come on, let's get you warmed up hm?" His hand comes to cup your face as he speaks.

He leads you to the lounge, where the fire is roaring.

"Let's get out of those wet clothes my love" he says, his hands rest lightly on your waist. Waiting.

You look at him, his eyes blown wide, hannibal swallows visibly.

"Would you like me to leave while you change?" He asks.

"No" you whisper.

Hannibal lifts your soaking shirt over your head. His breath catches in his throat as he does, lips parted slightly as he takes you in.

You slip out of your pants just as hannibal places the dry shirt over your head. It falls just below your knees.

Hannibal runs his fingers over your neck "you, are exquisite" he says, slightly breathless.

Heat rises to your face, warming you. Your still shivering slightly though, and hannibal of course, notices.

"Come here" he whispers, sitting down on the sofa and pulling you on top of him.

You let out a moan as you feel his cock against you, sitting deliciously against your core.

Hannibals cock hardens even more at the noise you made.

"Your still colder than I'd like darling" he says seriously, running his hands up and down your exposed thigh.

"Mm" is all you manage to say.

"I was working on my memory palace, when you knocked"

"M sorry" you mutter, ducking your head.

Hannibal tuts, lifting your chin to look at him.

"No, do not apologise, but, I do need to finish my thoughts" he says as his cock twitches.

"How about we stay like this until I'm done hm? And then I'll cook and you can spend the night?" He asks.

You nod.

"Words, darling" hannibal says sternly.

"Yes" you breathe out.

You shift slightly, his clothed cock pushing against you making you drip with need.

Hannibal grips your hips and stills you.

"Not until I'm finished" he grins. Before pushing you back slightly so he can free his cock from his pants.

You watch in awe as his thick cock springs up against his stomach.

Hannibal places his hands back on your hips before guiding you to sit on his cock.

You close your eyes, pleasure overtaking you as he sinks inside.

"No my love, you keep your eyes on me" he says, his voice gravelly.

"Hanni, please" you whisper, his cock filling you stretching you so good.

He ignores you. Continuing his thoughts as he twitches his cock every now and then inside you.

He keeps one hand gripping your chin, looking at him as you warm his cock.

"You feel so good, sitting on my cock like this, so perfect" he says.

Your chest heaves at his words.

"M so full, please, I need you" you choke out, feeling every ridge of his cock inside you, he pushed himself up on the couch slightly, causing him to hit another spot inside you.

"Fuck" you cry out.

Hannibal smirks, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. He begins to trace small patterns on your back.

"Hanni, it feels so good" you whisper into his chest, clenching around him.

"I know my love, just a bit longer I promise, your doing so well for me".

You whine at his words, and hannibal keeps talking to you like that, you relax into him, his cock still snug inside you as he holds you, warming you up, as you warm his cock.

#hannibal x reader #hannibal hurt/comfort #hannibal imagine #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter smut

[lovebugism]

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

[jongseongsnudes]

ruin you

bff!jake. 1.6k words. smuttt.

“how long left til your date?”

“an hour.”

“perfect. that’s plenty of time.”

“for what jake- ahh-” your words turn into squeals when the man carries you over to his side of the car, literally manhandling you as if you weighed nothing to him.

guess his trips to the gym really were beneficial.

the man holds you still on his lap, facing him, while grounding your hips down so you can feel the growing tent in his sweat pants that you swore you had just helped get rid of back at his place.

“again?”

“what can i do?” the ends of his lips pull into a smug grin as he leans in to place a kiss on your chin, “you’re such a pretty, pretty girl.”

“sweet talk isn’t always going to get you what you want, mr sim.”

“just trying to help. i just want to get you ready for your date,” he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, the grin on his face however tells you that his next words were going to be anything but nonchalant.

“and how will you be doing that?”

your words seem to be the cue for him to lean in and kiss you sweetly. you loved these kind of kisses from jake, when he treated you so gently, as if you were his most prized possession.

you had spent the day at your best friend’s place, in his bed with his arms around you and his lips on yours for most of it. this was how you both spent most of your sundays, literally joined by the hip with heaps of what you and him liked to call, lazy fucking.

and usually, you’d stay there til the very next day and head off classes together but you had a date tonight. a blind date.

you and jake were best friends, have been for the past two years but a drunken mistake one night led to the beginning of your hook ups. with no strings attached of course. the man would go on dates and you would go on yours but by the end of the night, you’d be knocking at each other’s doors. like clockwork, a familiar routine.

it was a strange friendship but it worked and it had been for the past three months. you’ve always enjoyed the man’s fun company but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the dominant side of jake sim that only you got to experience.

like the him right now, sitting before you.

“my pretty, i’m going to ruin you. i’m going to make sure he’ll never be good enough. no one will.”

he kisses you again almost immediately, not letting you have a single say.

there was something noticeably different about jake today, something slightly off that you can’t pinpoint. your bestie never cared much about who you went on dates with but his words and his actions today told you different. maybe it’s because your blind date was supposedly the captain of the football team, someone good looking, smart and rich. what girl wouldn’t fall for that right?

the delusional side of you hoped that you were right, that you going on a date tonight did bother jake. but you knew yourself that it wasn’t likely, not when said man had hot girls lined up for him every week.

you were just an easier fuck whenever he needed it.

the coldness of his fingers on your skin brings you out of your stupid thoughts, only to realise what he was actually doing. trust him to already have his sweatpants down his knees and your panties under your dress slipped to one side. how he could be so fast still manages to surprise you, time after time.

the feeling of his cock rubbing at your bareness elicits a breathy moan from you. it drove you to almost insanity whenever he did this, your core desperate and screaming to be filled up by the man.

“will you let me put it in pretty?”

“yes jake please,” your words sounded more like whimpers, something he enjoyed a little too much with the way he was already grinning.

he knows you’re desperate for him and he was loving every bit of it.

he kisses you again while his hands are busy at your waist, easily lifting you up. every part of you is immediately put on overdrive as you slowly sink onto him, your wetness taking as much of his hard on as possible. and damn was that a full time job of its own.

“oh my god- jake-” you’re already seeing stars, your mind spinning and it was just the tip. no matter how many times you’ve done this, you always end up struggling to fit it. just proves how big jake sim really was.

“poor baby. need my help?”

you nod way too quickly at his question, causing the man to laugh. but you don’t care how pathetic you must’ve looked because you wanted him to help. it’s always how it went between you two anyway, with jake doing most of the work, manhandling your body like it was his own personal rag doll.

and you would never complain. ever.

because by the end of it all, jake always made sure you were satisfied first, letting you cum countless times before he would.

so you didn’t expect anything different this time either.

his arms circle your waist, hugging you even closer as he thrusts upwards, filling you. all you could do was whine at the feeling of him even deeper inside of you, his thickness almost breaking you in half. but you couldn’t care less, not when it felt this good.

you grip tighter onto his shoulders as jake pounds into you, your nails almost ripping the man’s poor shirt, similar to your dress strap that was currently hanging on for dear life.

“f- feels so good-”

“i know baby, i know,” he coos into your ear, his voice so deep, just like his cock that’s currently buried inside of you. his hands are now grasping your waist, holding you still in place so he could angle himself better.

of course fucking in jake’s car wasn’t at the top of your favourite places to do it but just something about it, perhaps the tight space or the high chance of getting caught or even the fogged up windows... turned you on a little too much.

“jake...”

“what do you want pretty, tell me. you know i’d give you anything right?”

“please... i want to cum-”

your body begins to fall apart when he hits one specific angle, an angle he had perfected only after a week. it was like he knew everything about your body already. where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck. the man was a fast learner and you were more than thankful for that.

“anything for my pretty baby...” his thrusts fastens almost immediately, causing your head to fall back against the stirring wheel. you have no idea of what’s what anymore, all you know is that you were going to have the best orgasm of your life.

your moans, his groans and the unholy sound of skin smacking continue to fill the small space as jake works you towards your high, his thrusts gradually becoming erratic.

his name is the only thing on your lips as a violent rush erupts through your body, your juices coating the man’s dick just as he also cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.

with no energy left, you lay your head onto his shoulder, your arms now weakly clinging onto the material of his shirt. you could hear him laughing lowly beside you as he begins to pat your head, something you’ve always loved him doing.

the smirk on his lips tells you just how pleased he is with how whiny you always become because of him. how pathetic and dishevelled you always looked when he’s fucking you, with hair so messy and with tears in your eyes.

that’s exactly what jake sim loved seeing. you being a complete mess for him.

just like right now.

“oh shit i- i have to go,” you barely manage to mutter with how exhausted you are, your eyes going to your wrist watch to see the time, “there’s only 20 minutes left. i need to go wash up-”

“or,” you can tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t about to let you go, that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer either. it’s always with that gaze, the one he knows for a fact always works on you, “we take a nice bath, have some take out and then we stay in bed all night. just me and you.”

“but jake-”

“come on,” he coos at you again, his tone more desperate than before if you could say so yourself.

of course you wanted to scream hell yes, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t. this secret, scandalous relationship between you and your best friend that was supposed to be no strings attached was becoming anything but that for you.

it all happened so suddenly, something you weren’t able to control. you didn’t even know when or how but you found yourself falling for him over time. you tried to go on dates, meet new people but no one could take your mind off jake sim. it was as if he really did ruin you for everyone else, both mentally and physically.

and what did you do about your feelings?

answer was simple, nothing, just so you could salvage your friendship.

so now that you’re given yet another chance to distance yourself from him, with a blind date, you knew you had to go. just like he would, if he had a date to go on.

“stay with me pretty.”

“i- i can’t jake... not tonight.”

end.

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

#jongseongsnudes #jake sim #enhypen #jake #sim jaeyun #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen jake sim #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen drabble #jake sim fic #jake sim fanfic #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim hard hours #jake sim drabble #jake fic #jake smut #jake fanfic #jake x reader #jake hard hours #jake imagines #sim jaeyun x reader

[lacollectionneuse1967]

slip of the tongue

Theseus Scamander x Reader

The word left your mouth before you could process it, “Daddy.” He froze completely, locking eyes with you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face.

summary: you're a personal assistant at the british aurors office. you accidentally call your boss, theseus scamander, "daddy."

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: smut with plot

warnings: 18+ smut, ddlg themes, (light) mdom/femsub dynamics, (light) size difference kink, unprotected penetration

It was mid-November. London was dark by four in the afternoon and you were out of the Ministry by five, pulling your trench coat around you and shouldering your way out into the stone streets and coal black skies. It wasn’t bitingly cold yet, but you kept your arms tucked close to your body regardless. Dipping in and out of the indistinct crowds, moving with purpose.

You had about fifteen stacks of classified documents on you, but they were safely magicked away into the lining of your coat, and they weighed nothing. Magic almost always weighed nothing, cost nothing. 

For you, at least. 

“A natural.” “The brightest witch of her year!”

That’s what they’d called you at Hogwarts. Even your closest friends in [your House] eventually grew bitter and irritable, so you had to feign stress before exams and pretend to practice your spells alongside them in the common room, in a display of camaraderie.

The truth was you didn’t need to practice, or study. Ever.

You were muggle-born, everything in your life before Hogwarts had been so difficult to bear, your parents’ death, the streets of East London, the orphanage. Even talking to other people, simple conversation, bore some inexplicable strain for you.

But magic had come as easy as breathing. Your wand was like a limb, an extension of your body, you didn’t even have to reach for magic, it just sprung forth, dancing into the world. 

You wanted to be an Auror since you were fifteen. You were good at magic, and little else, and you were curious, had a talent for dueling and abhorred those who took advantage of the weak. It seemed a natural path.

You were hired straight out of graduation. You were only meant to work as an Administrative Assistant at the Ministry of Magic for a few months. But that was nearly a year ago…

In truth, you’d already been offered a position as an Auror. You turned it down discreetly. Theseus Scamander, Head of the British Auror Office, was the man you’d been assigned to as an assistant. He was the figure you answered to, and you’d been his sole, personal secretary.

Before you loved him, you liked him, but even then you could recognize that you liked him too much for what was appropriate to feel for your boss. He was nothing like you in that he was maddeningly easy to become fond of. He was funny and charming, kind and handsome. Sarcastic and a bit of a straight edge. You glowed in his praise.

Every “Excellent work, Y/N” or “Y/N, you’re a lifesaver,” or casual introduction beginning with “This is my genius assistant-” swelled inside of you with happiness. Once he’d even, absent-mindedly and only half-looking up from his copy of The Daily Prophet, said “Good girl,” and you’d nearly fainted. 

The first time he hugged you, after some successful project of yours, he’d braced his arms around you and spun you around, and you’d gone wide-eyed and stiff. He set you down in a flourish.

You were terrified your reaction would put him off touching you forever, but he only laughed aloud, the sound like bells in the wind.

“Not scared of the death threats we receive from dark wizards but you’re scared of a little hug from your boss?” 

Your heart seized, though you returned his laugh in relief. If he only knew what you were really scared of.

“Try it again,” you smiled and met his gaze defiantly. “I’ll do better this time, I promise.” 

It always seemed to shock and delight him in equal parts, the way you responded to him. You liked to challenge him, and to make him smile just to see it spread across his face.

When Theseus hugged you the second time it was him who hesitated at the feel of your warm body pressing into his, his large hands hovered in mid-air before resting delicately on your upper back. 

When you were hired he was still engaged to Leta Lestrange, as he was when you turned down the promotion you were offered. Pathetically, being his assistant was the closest you could get to him. You weren’t about to walk away from that, walk away from him. Between late-night talks at the office and laughter-filled afternoon teatimes at his house, he’d become something like a friend. You couldn’t have him, but this was enough to sustain you. You weren’t her, but you knew you meant something to him…

When you entered his dark apartment, slipping the key out from under the welcome mat, it was no warmer than the outside world. Barren and cold as death, no signs of life. You whisked your wand out and spelled on the lights, spelled the documents free and they fell heavily from your coat, thunking unceremoniously on the hardwood floor.

Since he broke up with Leta, Theseus hadn’t been home, that was clear from the state of his place. He had hardly been at the office. You covered for him without even having to think about it, without even blinking you spewed out excuses and deftly dismissed the Aurors who came to call on him.

You didn’t think about what that meant about your loyalty, to the Ministry and to him. 

"Y/N," he’d prefaced in a letter, an owl sent to your house. "I trust you with my life. Not in theory, but in practice: with this letter you hold my life in your hands. You’re my assistant, but you’ve also become my closest and most cherished friend."

He’d mentioned Grindelwald, going behind the Ministry's back, “choosing sides,” and that he was with his younger brother, Newt. He told you to tell the Ministry he was on business if they asked, to make up something about a dark wizard lead in Romania. And he mentioned that he would need you to make copies of some confidential documents from the archives for him. He asked you to set them aside "but not in my office. Not safe. Bring them to my apartment. Key under the mat. I’ll be in touch soon. I owe you."

And so here you were. Still in your work clothes, a navy blue pencil skirt and chiffon blouse, black tights and your [hair color] hair pressed into loose finger waves, your heels scattered somewhere across his floor. You were organizing the documents into piles.

He’d requested the strangest things, all top secret, in the most restricted section of the Ministry Archives. Old maps and travelogs pertaining to sightings of some ancient creature with certain prophetic or spiritual abilities. Topographical maps of Bhutan and Austria. Classified research on dark magical objects that bound promises in blood.

It made you feel like you were in school again, made your head spin.

Wishing always hurt for you, coming from your background, you hardly let yourself indulge in it. But right now you wished he would’ve told you more. You wished, more sharply and painfully, that he was here.

In the middle of organizing the endless piles of parchment you began to drift off. The words on paper began to cross and blur in your vision. You didn’t want to disturb his apartment or his things, so you hadn’t put on the fireplace. Cold and tired you padded to his empty room. 

Just a little rest before I finish up here. You thought to yourself. Just going to rest my eyes.

You crawled under his crisp bed sheets and your eyes pricked at the overwhelming smell of him. If you didn’t allow yourself to miss him before this, you couldn’t help it now. You’d never been in his room before, you thought distantly, fatigue already claiming you, dragging you down into a black sleep. 

-------

You weren’t cold anymore. Someone had put the fireplace on. You became aware of this before you heard him.

“Y/N,” Theseus’s voice was rough and low and sweet. It must've been past midnight. He was dressed in a suit still, bending over the bed, his eyes tender and tired. “Did you fall asleep, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. You stirred. That word undid something in you. Unfettered any tension or stress you’d been holding in your body since he’d been gone.

“Theseus,” you muttered, still half-sleep. Your eyes were swollen, you would’ve been mortified, but he was here, at last, and he was looking at you with a gentle smile, so affectionate.

“M’sorry, the documents—I fell asleep-"

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. He dragged a hand over his face and stood. You felt guilty for stealing his bed, you didn't know where he'd been, but he looked positively wrecked. “Rest. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

He turned to leave, presumably for the couch. You reached out for him, any part of him, and your hand caught the waistline of his pants, a finger hooked there.

He looked down at the offending hand and raised a brow.

You were half dreaming, his arrival was so unexpected, so surreal. Your face felt hot, something like fever. 

"Mm, don't go," you mumbled. And then, the word left your mouth before you could process it, “Daddy.”

He froze completely, locking eyes with you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You were suddenly terrifyingly awake. 

You clapped a hand over your face, mortified, and rolled over in his bed so that the pillow concealed your face. Consciousness seeped in gradually and with every sober second you were swallowed by dread. 

“Oh,” you said stupidly. “Oh god, I have to leave. I'm sorry, I was sleeping, I don't know why I said that."

You stood as clumsily as a drunkard, taking half his sheets to the floor with you. Your hair was a mess and your skirt had hiked up nearly around your waist, revealing your black panties through your sheer tights.

“Oh god,” you said again. You couldn’t look at him. You began to fix your skirt and pat down your hair when he stepped forward, eyes dark, hand gripped around your wrist. 

You startled, confused. But he looked the opposite, an absolute calm washed over his face.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Coming home to you in my bed,” he let out a sharp breath, something like a stifled groan. “You have no idea what I wanted to do to you.”

Your stomach fluttered. You searched his face for any signs of confusion. He looked tired, a little undone, but more himself than ever.

“I don’t understand,” you didn't know why you felt on the brink of tears, when this is all you’d wanted all along. “You… you want me? But you were engaged, you…”

The look in his eyes was blazing and still, fire in water. It was enough to silence you. 

“I want you. I ended things with her because I couldn’t live with it, wanting you. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, not at your job, and I’m sorry to bother you with it now, but it can’t be helped. You can leave if you want, things can go back to normal. Me, wanting you, and you knowing nothing about it.” 

He seemed to return to himself now, he sounded like the Theseus you knew. Poised, sure of himself. Mercifully kind. But his chest was heaving and the desire, plain on his face, was enough to make your knees buckle.

He wants me. He wants me. With each beat of your heart you felt the truth of it swell inside you. You could see it, unmistakable, the look of want that mirrored your own. Ready to worship and renounce and claim.

“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted, weakly. When he spoke again his words were terse, strained.

“Get back in bed,” is all he could manage, and then, “And call me that again.” 

And for the first time since you’d known him, you defied him.

Like the possessed, you fell into him, kissing him. He stumbled back in surprise, catching you with his hands crowded around your face. And you were both kissing and grabbing at each other, you fell to your knees and he followed you down.

You couldn't stop kissing him, not even to regain your balance, to catch your breath. He tasted so good, and his mouth on yours would've been enough to sustain you forever. The two of you were so desperate with need, you were half-kneeling on the floor. 

You began to whine in protest when he pulled away at last, but he stood and pulled you up from under your arms. When he threw you back onto his bed, your stomach flipped. He was looking down at you, pulling off his shoes and jacket, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. With him looking at you like that, you would've let him do anything to you, anything at all.

“Sweetheart, I said,” he pulled off his dress shirt and your head went dizzy at the sight of his bare chest, his shoulders and arms. “Get back in bed.”

His voice was stern, but fond. You knew what he wanted immediately, and it thrilled you to give it to him.

“Yes, daddy.”

You could see him struggling to control his expression, he just bowed his head back and pinched his eyes shut. The corner of his mouth twitched.

The knowledge that it was you doing this to him, driving him crazy, turning him on, heightened your arousal. Submitting to him strangely felt like power in your hands. 

“Good girl,” he said at last.

He was in his boxers now. The shape of his dick through the thin cloth made your mouth water. You wanted to press your open mouth against it there, wanted to pull it out and kiss it. You don’t know what had come over you. You couldn't think straight.

He got into bed beside you.

“Come and sit in my lap.” 

Your body purred and thrummed in delight. This is all you’d ever wanted at the office, to drape yourself over and onto him like this.

You crawled over him and sat firmly in his lap, legs splayed around his thick thighs. His hands came up around your waist, sliding further up to your chest. He looked up at you unblinkingly, eyes hooded and reverent, but his fingers moved of their own accord, unbuttoning your shirt.

You reddened, suddenly self-conscious. “Wait, don’t-“

“Don't?” he raised an eyebrow. “What, you want me to stop?”

He made a tutting noise and continued to remove your shirt, you had to look away when he flung it across the room, you were so embarrassed. He had your bra off in seconds.

“So cute. So shy.” he said dotingly, but his actions were anything but cute, massaging and running the rough pads of his thumbs over your nipples over and over again in circles. 

You moaned without meaning to, and the sound embarrassed you further. You felt him grow even bigger beneath you, between your legs.

“No, you don’t want me to stop.” He sounded so cocky you wanted to tell him off, but you couldn't, not with him playing with you like this. You could only moan weakly beneath his hands.

Your hips began grinding against the outline of his cock. It was so big your entire body thrilled at the feel of him, at the ludicrous idea of fitting it inside of you.

He seemed determined to humiliate you, he kept talking you through it.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Can you feel how hard I am?”

“Yes,” you answered, breathless.

“Tell me what you want. How you want me.”

“Inside me, please.”

“Please, who?”

You were so frustrated you could've cried. You wanted to come so bad, your legs were trembling. Up and down grinding and rubbing wasn't enough when you knew he wanted to be inside of you, that you could've had him inside of you.

“Please, daddy," You cried, feeling broken. 

Theseus pushed you back onto the bed roughly and crawled over you, reaching down to hike your skirt even further up your midsection. You were already topless, but he gripped into your tights with both arms flexing and ripped them apart at the seam.

You gasped and instinctually tried to cover up, bringing your legs together, but he was already pushing your panties down past your ankles, and then his broad hands were covering your kneecaps, pushing them apart.

“No, no, don’t do that. You’re mine," He reprimanded.

It felt so vulgar, him seeing this part of you. But you were only half a person now. You needed Theseus inside of you to be complete, you were dumb with want. A whining, needy mess and he couldn't get enough of you.

Tears stained your cheeks.

“Please, pleaseplease-" You started to beg, but he silenced you with his mouth on yours, wet and warm and perfect. When he shushed you this time it was surprisingly caring, he caressed your face reassuringly.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay, I’m not trying to tease you, hold on.” 

When he pulled out his length, your mouth went dry. You instinctually spread your legs wider. It was big, bigger than you thought. Both thick and long.

He reached a hand down between your legs to find wetness. Your back arched, your whole body curled and keened in pleasure against his hand, his touch.

But when he pushed a single finger at your entrance it met resistance. You moaned in pain and contentment when it finally slid in fully, past the knuckle.

“Ah,” he said with a grunt. “You can barely fit my finger, baby. You’re so tight.” He said this in equal parts admiration and lament. 

“No!” you whined. “Please, please, I can take it-“

Theseus shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“I know you can, pretty girl. I don’t wanna hurt you, though.”

“I want you to. Please, please.” 

He hissed something like fuck under his breath and began to add more fingers, a second and, then, absurdly, a third. You already felt like you were being split in half. He could barely move them, but soon enough he was pumping them deep and slow, in and out, and the act was so lewd you wanted to cry again.

“Fuck, that’s tight," he said to himself again. “Christ, Y/N, you’re gonna kill me.”

When he removed his hand you wanted to cry out at the loss, but then he was moving his body up, his hands clasped around the inside of your knees and he spread your legs up and open and wide, just for him.

When he sank down into you, his dick was so big and hard that your eyes bulged and your mouth opened pathetically.

“Oh,” you said, stupefied.

Then he pushed in and in, endlessly, until he bottomed out. You were already throbbing around him, so overstimulated from before, coming and fluttering around his cock before he’d even fucked you properly.

“Oh!” you exclaimed again, throwing your head back against the pillow and bringing the back of your hand to your mouth to bite, hoping to stifle the moan as your orgasm washed over you hard. Waves of pleasure ran from the crown of your head all the way down your legs, you could see it coming from a mile away but were nonetheless overcome, completely. 

He made a small noise at the sensation of you tightening and pulsing around him and ripped your hand away from your mouth.

“I wanna hear you,” he ordered, and so you let him. It was almost an out-of-body experience, the way he materialized in front of you, inside of you, when you finally came back down to earth, blood roaring in your ears.

“I just stuck it in, and you already came?” His tone was dark and teasing. “That’s all it takes, darling?”

He leaned over and kissed you deeply, passionately, and then straightened your legs and threw them over one of his shoulders, bending you in half. He began to fuck you in earnest, fucked you limp. You really felt like a rag doll now, helplessly pinned beneath his weight, his hips pounding into your backside. He drilled into you, growing impossibly harder by the second, it was almost like being filled for the first time all over again. 

You couldn't stop moaning, he kept telling you how good you were doing, how you were almost there. Kept asking you questions that made you blush, making you answer them.

Every thrust of his hips was pure ecstasy, vibrating shocks of pleasure were sent straight to your core, your whole pussy throbbing with it. He was fucking you and it was the best thing you’d ever felt, you never imagined sex could be this good.

You felt his dick stretching you wider and wider when he said, “Where do you want me to come?” 

You didn't even think. The word preceded any thought.

“Inside. Please, please-"

“Fuck.” 

The feel of him shooting into you, hot and warm and pulsing, sent you tumbling into another orgasm, it hit you so hard your vision went white and spotty. You had the impression your whole body was vibrating with the force of it.

He rolled your sweat-slick bodies over so that he was cradling you, holding you. You could feel his heartbeat, feel the air rushing in and out of his ribcage. He held you for a few minutes before finally relenting and pulling out with a hiss.

“You’re so perfect,” he panted, pressing a kiss to your temple, your chin, your neck. 

You felt overwhelmed with emotion. Overstimulated. Completely at his mercy.

“I love you,” you said. Powerless. All your life you had clung to power, whatever power you could cling to and not be kicked off like a dog. But for him alone you allowed yourself to be weak.

Utterly and devastatingly weak. 

You always imagined him saying it to you, first, but the thought barely had the chance to dampen your soaring heart because then he said, “I love you more. I promise you, whatever love you have for me, Y/N, I'll always have more for you.” 

-----

He cleaned you up and gave you some of his clothes to change into. Soft and oversized, you were almost drowning in them. He changed into his own pajamas, changed the bedsheets and threw the old ones on the floor. Gave you a toothbrush to use and soon you were both cozy and tucked back in his bed.

“I wanted to do that from the first time I saw you," He admitted. “Even though I was your boss, and your friend, and I was a taken man at the time. It made me feel ashamed, sick with myself. How badly I desired you.” 

Hearing Theseus say these words was like a dream, or something you wouldn’t even dare to dream.

“Are you staying here for good now? Or are you leaving me again?” You asked.

“You’re coming with me. With us.” He said in a way that was so sure and simple, it made you feel safe. Made you forget about the Ministry, and the world falling apart. “We need your help. And besides, I've missed you.”

-----

part two here

A/N: woohoo first fic ever! let me know if you have any requests or if you'd like a part two. right now i am only writing for theseus and no one else.

#theseus scamander #theseus x reader #theseus scamander x reader #theseus smut #theseus scamander fic #theseus scamander smut #fantastic beasts #callum turner #hp fanfic

[chikaras-garden]

Aftercare

Sometimes, when smut gets intense, we need a reminder that we’re still safe and loved. Read this if you need a safe space after heavy smut with your F/O.

Pairing: your fave x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k

Contains: unnamed male!F/O, implied sub!reader, mentions of overstim and rough sex, aftercare, cuddles, sweet nothings, praise, doting, mushy relationship stuff, F/O calls R “sweetheart,” “honey,” “baby girl,” and “good girl,” your F/O is called “partner” so you can decide if it’s husband/boyfriend/etc.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Feel free to tell me who you imagine while you’re reading ❤️

You’re sticky, hot with sweat, and your lungs struggle to fill with air. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wriggle against the bedsheets, trying to find comfort through the thick of your own overstimulated arousal. Though your body feels numb, you’re aware of a dull ache in the back of your mind, but you can’t tell if it’s mental, physical, or both. All you know is that you just spent what felt like hours at his mercy, and that turned you into a weeping mess with a throbbing core and limbs too heavy to move.

There’s a soft sound that echoes around the room, circling you; it’s a shush, a hum, a coo that sounds an awful lot like your name said in your favorite person’s voice. You sense him before you really feel him; it takes your brain a few seconds to realize that he’s leaning over you, hands caressing up and down your sides, and speaking to you in a soft voice, using words you can’t understand.

He takes your hands with the gentlest of fingers, nuzzles each of your palms, and presses a tender kiss to each wrist. The feeling lingers like a slow-moving cloud on a summer’s day, and the tightness in your chest loosens at the sensation. You take deep breaths in—one, two, three—and fill your lungs with warm, light air.

When you open your eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Hi, sweetheart. Feelin’ okay?”

“Mn,” you half-moan, half-grunt. Though your bones ache and your skin is sore, you gather all of your remaining strength to reach for his shoulders, to hoist yourself up to latch onto him and never let go. All you can think about is how you need him, the touch of his skin, the whisper of his praise. But, he sways out of your grasp.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, grinning. “Water first.”

Biting your lip to hold back your pout, you think of phrases spoken in his domineering timbre: ‘be good for me,’ ‘tell me—tell me what you want,’ ‘good girls do as they’re told.’

Looking away, you mumble. “I need you.”

He cups your face with one hand, tilting your chin so he can see you. You can’t—don’t want to—resist, so you feel the weight of his eyes locked on yours while he reaches behind him, toward the bedside table. “You’ve got me, honey; I’m not going anywhere. ‘M right here. We’re all done. You’re safe.”

The cool glass of your water bottle meets your palms. It’s uncapped already, and you feel his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingers work into each muscle, and you only now realize how tense your posture is. 

“Need my help?” His doting eyes watching you with a worry that’s so ‘him,’ your heart flutters back to life. You shake your head, and he acquiesces; instead, he occupies himself with pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to your bare shoulders.

It takes a moment for you to raise the bottle and drink. You close your eyes while a slow stream of water flows down your throat. Like the leaves of a dormant plant, you unfurl as water reaches through you. Life returns to your arms, your legs, your fingers, your toes. Even in your mind, the fog of your just-finished session begins to part, and the afterglow of your partner’s love for you is what shines through.

You take another deep breath while you lower the water bottle to your lap. Weighing the half-full container between your hands, you notice the tremble in your lip and a persistent ache in your wrists and shoulders, a chill in your bones that just now registers.

There’s a blanket waiting for you, warm from his body and smelling like his shampoo. Strong arms reach behind you, wrapping it around your shoulders like a cape. He joins its ends under your chin, smooths his fingers over the marks a different version of himself left behind on your neck.

Compared to you, he has a significant lack of coverage. Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of quickly-donned boxers, you realize he must be cold, too. “You—”

He cuts you off with an over-pronounced smooch to your cheek. “Don’t worry about me for now, ‘kay? I wanna get you cozy first.”

You give him an uncertain look, to which he just chuckles. It’s a quiet noise, like the purr of a cat; then, he leans close, resting his forehead lightly against yours. “Taking care of you makes me feel better.”

“Love you,” you murmur in response.

A sound that lives at the intersection of a shuddering breath and a delighted laugh leaves his mouth while he wraps his arms around your waist. He leans, shifting onto his hip, and tugs you effortlessly into his lap. “You did so good for me, honey. You’re the best girl, my perfect sweetheart, doing everything I asked and more. Where’d I find someone like you?”

You muster the energy for a dreamy half-smile. “I found you, remember?”

His next words flow out of his mouth without hesitation, as if he isn’t in control of them at all. “You saved me, baby girl.”

“From yourself?” You grin. “I think I’ve heard this one.”

Then, you wind your blanket-wrapped arms around his chest and nuzzle into his shoulder. It’s his turn to let out a dreamy sigh; leaning back against the headboard, he plucks your water bottle from you and takes a sip, beginning the ritual of taking care of himself, now that he’s certain you’re safe, drifting peacefully through the warmth of your bond.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Such a beautiful, perfect thing.”

“‘M yours,” you counter amidst peppering baby kisses along his jaw. 

He swallows under your lips, and his hand finds your hip to squeeze. “No, sweetheart; you’re your own. You’re just sharing yourself with me, trusting me, and I…” He gives you a serious look. “Thank you, for that.”

So gently that you barely feel him, he taps the underside of your chin, guiding you upward to kiss him. His mouth is open, but not wanting; with how slowly his lips move, it’s almost like he’s baring his belly to you, showing you where he’s most vulnerable as his way of reciprocating what you just did for him.

“Love you,” you repeat in a whisper.

“Love you,” comes his echo.

Somewhere outside of this room, in a bathroom that’s just a few steps and too far away all at once, there’s a scented bath and silky lotion waiting for you—both of you. But that’s just the thing; it’s waiting, and it can wait a little longer, because all you need for now is to remain here, at peace and entangled with the man who loves you like no one else can.

#haikyuu smut #leon kennedy smut #dick grayson smut #jason todd smut #atsumu smut #bokuto smut #oikawa smut #kuroo smut #osamu smut #tsukishima smut #sugawara smut #haikyuu x you smut #haikyuu x reader smut #resident evil smut #nightwing smut #red hood smut #ushijima smut #suna smut #clark kent smut #🌸— mine.

[punkshort]

I don’t know if this is an annoying request but is there any way to get a Drabble of when reader had gotten jealous (in the past before the accident) when she found out that joel and Angie had history. In one of your previous chapters, Joel described it as some of the best sex of his life 👀

-Kiwi 🥝💚

Not an annoying ask at all! Thank you for sending this to me, this was a great idea! Sorry it took so long to get to it!

Jealous

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), blow job, unprotected piv sex, language, edging, lil bit of dom reader/sub joel, masturbation, angry/a little rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, spanking, hair pulling

WC: 1.6K

A/N: I want to let everyone know this part of their history took place very early on in their relationship. Reader does not yet know his secret, they are in the 'messing around' stage and if you recall, Joel once compared reader to taming a wild horse. So the reader in this story is very different from the one we know. Enjoy!

"Please," Joel whimpered, no longer above begging.

You were between his legs, his cock leaking and heavy in your mouth. With every swirl of your tongue and pump of your fist, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the brink just to have you pull away with a devilish smirk. It was maybe the third time you left him gasping for breath but he lost count so he couldn't be sure. His brain was a jumbled mess and his skin was on fire, soaked with sweat due to his heart pounding so furiously in his chest for the past twenty minutes.

"God, I love it when you use your manners," you purred. You cracked your back and neck with a soft moan, completely ignoring his cock throbbing and aching for attention in front of you. "It really turns me on. Wanna see?"

He groaned and arched his back off the bed, desperately trying to get you to touch him again. He wasn't used to this. Whatever it was you were doing together was fairly new and while the sex was always good, this was something else. And all because at dinner that night, you discovered he fucked someone else well before you even arrived in Jackson.

It was beginning to bother him how non-committal you were. The first couple times you were together, he didn't mind. In fact, he preferred it that way. Especially considering the guilt that weighed him down ever since he first recognized you. But recently, something changed in the way he looked at you, thought about you, felt about you. He was so fucking rusty, he had no idea how to shift the nature of your relationship to something more meaningful. So when Angie showed up, batting her lashes and touching his shoulder at the bar while he waited for you to finish playing whatever game you were playing and come home with him, he leaned into it a bit. He tossed Angie a smile just to add fuel to the flames and make you end the charade. And out of the corner of his eye, when he saw you stiffen and slam down your drink, he felt his cock twitch with excitement.

Maybe he shouldn't have pushed your buttons.

"You're not listening to me," you said sternly, grabbing his chin and forcing his attention back onto you. "I asked you a question."

"Yes," he rasped, "show me. Please," he added, remembering at the last second how you liked it when he begged. You smiled and let his chin go, then took that very same hand and slowly dragged it down your bare chest, over your stomach and underneath the fabric of your panties. You tipped your head back and moaned when you slid two fingers into your pussy, and when you began to rock your hips into your hand, still kneeling between his legs on the bed, he whined and fisted the bedsheets next to him.

He desperately moaned your name, wiping the sweat from his forehead, but you cut him off.

"So wet," you whispered, rolling your neck and opening your eyes, steadily holding his gaze while you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers. "Feels so good. Maybe I'll just make myself come, instead."

"No!" he growled angrily, sitting up and grabbing the back of your neck. You gasped in surprise but he could see your eyes sparkling with excitement and the corners of your mouth twitch.

"No?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side and sinking your teeth into your lower lip, your eyes locked onto his, now inches away from your face while you snapped your wrist even faster between your legs.

"I wanna make you come," he said through clenched teeth while he did everything in his power not to grab you by the waist and slam you down on his cock.

"If you don't like it, maybe you should've taken her home tonight, instead," you seethed angrily, then your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open when your fingers finally brushed up against that one spot that always made you come undone. Joel's nostrils flared when he realized you were close and decided he had enough.

"Fuck this," he muttered. He wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked it out from between your legs, and before you even had a chance to open your eyes and yell at him, he scooped his other arm around your back and flipped you over so you were lying underneath him. He smirked down at you, finally getting the upper hand. "Did I make you jealous, baby?"

You scoffed and wiggled underneath him, but he pinned you down.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're allowed to fuck whoever you want."

He hummed and noticed your fingers still glistening with your slick. He grabbed your wrist and popped both your fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up your arousal with a heady groan, making sure to lick up every last drop before releasing your fingers with a grin.

"Only wanna fuck you, though."

He noticed the way your expression softened a bit, just for a split second. The first crack in your armor. But before he could dig into it deeper, you shifted gears.

"Then go ahead and fuck me already."

He yanked your underwear so fast down your legs, you heard the fabric rip, but you could hardly care when a moment later he was sinking himself inside you with a strangled groan, both finally finding some relief in the familiar stretch.

"Y'drive me fuckin' crazy, y'know that?" he murmured into your cheek. He held your jaw tightly in his grip, his hips roughly slamming into you as you gasped and moaned under him. With every harsh thrust, he brushed against that one spot, already stimulated from your fingers earlier. "Can't just admit you're jealous? Wouldn't look my way all night 'til someone else did and now look at you. Makin' a mess all over my cock."

Your eyes flared with anger and you yanked your chin out of his grasp. Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled as hard as you could, causing him to lose his balance for a moment, but it was all you needed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and with a grunt, rolled him over onto his back so you were straddling him.

Your mouth crashed down against his, teeth clashing and tongues messily licking into each other. With your heavy breaths mingling together, his hands roamed, grabbing onto every part of you he could find until they settled on your hips. He helped guide you in his lap, fingers digging into the fatty area where your thighs and hips creased, adding more force every time you dropped back down onto his thick length.

"Jesus, fuck!" Joel growled, lifting one hand to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp until the pain faded and you ordered him to do it again, so he did.

You moaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling, hips grinding into him so you could give your burning thighs a break but it apparently wasn't enough because he started to ram up into you, soft grunts slipping past his lips with each thrust.

With little warning, your back arched and you cried out, convulsing and squeezing his cock as you came, gasping desperately for air. He couldn't tear his eyes away, completely mesmerized, like usual. You were gorgeous, he always knew that, but when he got to see you fall apart for him, it transcended his definition of beauty and left him in awe.

Once you collected yourself, he pulled you down to his chest, burying his face against your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your ribs, slamming into your used cunt over and over, making you whimper against his skin.

"I wanna come inside you so fuckin' bad," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

"You can't," you whispered back, leaving out but I wish you could.

"I know."

With a rough groan, he pulled out, causing your eyelids to flutter weakly and your pussy clench angrily at the loss. He pulled your hips down flush so he could rut against you, stilling momentarily when his hot spend spilled out, smearing all over your stomachs.

After giving him a moment to catch his breath, you tried to roll off of him but he didn't loosen his grip.

"Just another minute," he said softly into your shoulder. He felt your body relax and he inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent for later. He tilted his head so he faced you and locked his lips with yours, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. But you didn't allow it for long. You never did.

"Joel," you murmured against his mouth, pulling away and pushing yourself up. He sighed and let you go, watching as you stood on shaky legs to enter his bathroom and clean yourself up. You handed him the wet towel before collecting your clothes from the floor, holding up your mangled underwear with one finger and giving him a look. He chuckled as he wiped his stomach and shrugged.

You rolled your eyes and turned around so he didn't see the smile on your face as you got dressed. His eyes raked up and down your body for a moment before he said, "you don't gotta leave, y'know."

"I have patrol in the morning."

"So?"

"So I need to get some sleep," you said, pulling your shirt on and fixing your hair. He was really growing to hate this part. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow," you added over your shoulder as you headed towards his door. He didn't respond. He just watched you leave, a slow smile pulling at his lips because even though you acted indifferent towards him, the fact remained that you were jealous of another woman giving him attention, and that had to mean something.

#no asks are annoying btw #send me all your thots #ask #ikwya fic #drabble #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

[voiceshearingyouloud]

PTSD is nuts; I’m back at home with my mum early and already my chronic pain and chronic fatigue have flared up, my sensory issues are up the wall and I had to pick myself up off the floor where I was crying just to make dinner for myself yesterday.

#just. sometimes it makes me want to scream #I went through this without realising it for years! #I’m just so angry about how unfair it is; and at the same time I’m going shopping with her later to buy stuff for uni #and some tiny part of my brain is looking forward to it because when I was younger that’s when we actually had a good time and didn’t argue #well. nine days left; can you believe it? #I sure can’t. #anne speaks #I don’t even know how to feel about being able to leave finally #I’m happy and relieved but also so scared that it’ll be worse somehow or that I’ve jinxed it by being so desperate #it feels like. how could one thing solve all my problems? #but then I guess what I really want is for this one problem to go away so I can deal with the rest of them by myself and on my own terms and #without this weighing me down and my body freaking out on me constantly #also; every time I’ve been away from her no matter the context I feel better #turns out not having your nervous system keyed up to 11 helps you function better and more pleasantly; who’d’ve known #I’ve started repeating a mantra to myself every time my brain spirals about what if it’s worse; which is #‘I am going to make a good life for myself if I have to pry it from G-d with my bare hands’ #which I think is true and also sets me in a good mindset of determination rather than freaking out #okay I’ll stop talking now lol

[jkslipppiercing]

Never Been A Friend | Part 2 | Jeon Jk

♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?

♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.

♧ warnings: jungkook is so pussy whipped it's hilarious, he's kinda in denial, masturbation but at the end, y/n is drunk, jungkook taking care of drunk y/n, jungkook curses like every other sentence, this is jk pov btw!!, kinda fluffy but really really cute, he loves her eyes, and i forgot what else, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!

♧ WC: 3.1k

a/n: hiiiii sweethearts! ive missed you guys so much 💕💕 make sure to read part 1 before reading this if you havent 🥹🥹 hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think!

Part 1

index

taglist

“y/n?” I shake her shoulder softly, attempting to nudge her awake. “wake up.”

When she mumbles something unintelligible and trails off to sleep, I exhale a soft sigh and hop out of my car after pocketing my phone and keys.

I'm fucked.

Utterly fucked.

The ride to her brother and I's dorm had been one of silence. Other than a few grumbles and whines from y/n when I seated her in the passenger seat next to me, she spent the ride peacefully sleeping. Unaware.

So unaware that I had to reach over and tug the hem of her dress down each time it hiked up her thighs. Her bare thighs. Her full, smooth, silky thighs.

Fuck, man.

She makes my blood boil.

I’m still not over the fact that she was left alone and oblivious before her brother had called me. How long had it been?

What if I hadn't picked up?

What if something happened to her?

Am I exaggerating? Maybe.

Does that lessen my anger? Fuck no.

No, because how the fuck can a brother be so nonchalant about leaving his sister alone while drunk? All for a quick fuck?

He's never gonna hear the end of it. I’ll make damn sure of that, but for now, I have to get this drunk-out-of-her-mind girl up to my apartment dorm.

I had tried asking her for her address multiple times, but all in vain, of course.

I didn’t even know she was in town.

Thought she had stayed with her parents in her home town- which her brother had mentioned only twice, maybe even three times- after graduating high school. He brought it up in conversation once but never justified why.

I mean, sure, not everyone wants to go to college and that’s fine, but why hadn't she?

Was she more of a liberal person?

Did she figure out her future already?

Why do I care?

I shake my head as I round the front of the car to get to her side. Her head falls when I open her door, and I instinctively catch with my hand, hoisting her up so she’s in a properly seated position with her head on the headrest.

God, I can already feel the headache approaching.

Taking her seatbelt off, I pat her cheek to wake her.

“y/n.”

No response.

“Y/n, come on.”

I pat her cheek again.

Nothing.

Oh well.

Placing one arm under her knees and another under her middle, I carefully slide her out of the seat and carry her into my arms. Her breath tickles my neck as her head rests on my shoulder, her nose nudging my pulse.

Which skyrockets.

Fuck, that felt good.

But I don’t know how to feel about that, because:

1. This is y/n we’re talking about.

2. A little nudge to the throat has me weak at the knees?

3. Toughen up, dickwad.

She huffs as she adjusts her head and pulls her arms around my neck for support, nuzzling my neck farther before mumbling something that sounded like, “mmm, warm…”

Her head is nestled to the crook of my throat and her breath sends a shiver down my spine.

The fact that I have to catch the moan in my throat has my cheeks grow an embarrassing shade of pink.

Clearing my throat awkwardly- which causes y/n to groan at the disturbance- I try my best not to disturb this brat’s beauty sleep as I walk up to the apartment building.

Wait…something’s not right.

I stop my stride short to try and point out the prickling feeling-

This brat’s dress is so short it might be flashing her ass by the way I’m carrying her.

Jesus Christ, give me strength.

○○○

Wincing at the loud creak of the door announcing my arrival, I nudge the door closed with my foot as I step into my apartment.

A shared apartment.

An apartment I share with the almost passed out drunk girl im carrying in my arms’ brother.

Yeah, shit.

Never in a million years would I have ever imagined this shit happening.

It’s not that big of a deal, except I cant really help the intrigue that accompanies the thought that comes with y/n.

Why did she scowl at me the first time she met me? Had I done anything to cause her to show such an awful bad impression?

I must admit, I never stopped thinking about her.

Not in a stalker way of thinking. I didn’t think about her in an obsessive type of way…not at all.

I guess I could say it was just…weird.

I never understood.

I was just interested.

Interested in the way her hips move on the dance floor.

Interested in the way she acts like a brat whenever she feels like it.

Hell, I'm interested in the way she flips me off whenever we cross paths for the fun of pissing me off.

Yes, she gets on my nerves; but she was never worth throwing a fuss over.

I barely saw her once every two months, if we’re being honest. The college her brother and I go to being almost three hours away from where they lived, it was a long trip.

But the way I felt about this girl puzzled me way more than I’d ever appreciate, especially since I knew nothing about her.

Nothing. Nada.

Where she goes to college, where she spends her time living, what she does on a daily basis…

No clue.

Then…what the fuck is she doing here?

A pained groan from the girl driving me insane pulls me back from my raging confusion.

She clings to me harder like a baby koala as she mumbled something incoherent under her breath, snuggling into the crook of my neck into what seems like her favorite habit tonight.

That one motion has become my weakness in a matter of minutes.

All because of her.

She does it again, this time connecting her nose with a spot right under my jaw. Her lips just shy of the skin on my throat, she groans in what seems like satisfaction.

My knees almost fucking buckle.

I try to focus on any sound in the apartment, relieved when I'm met with silence.

With a resigned sigh, I make my way to my bedroom.

Keeping my footsteps quick and light, I shift my door open with my shoulder-

Fuck!

I cant help the grimace that makes its way to my face.

It fucking reeks in here.

Of sex. Right. I was having sex.

The second relief of tonight washes over me when I find my bed empty, the sheets rumpled and messed up on top.

I should probably make a call to apologize to the fuck buddy previously occupying my bed, but I got better things to do.

A particular brat to take care of.

God, she cant sleep in here when it smells like this.

Making a detour, I go for the couch, setting y/n lightly on her ass. Her hands tighten around my neck in protest, which causes my neck to crane down awkwardly, but it still makes me chuckle when she frowns up at me through her blood shot eyes.

Fucking adorable, that is.

How her lashes prettily frame those sad eyes.

Sad eyes I was always unable to forget.

Those sad eyes. My demise.

Fuck me.

I untangle her arms from around my neck, adjusting the pillows thrown messily around the couch to create a cozy , temporary cocoon.

Picking her up swiftly, I lay her down on her side and brush a stray hair away from her face. Her soft, soft, soft features peer up at me as she struggles to keep those pretty eyes open.

“You’re smiling.” The cutest little slur laces up with her words and I just cant fight the flutter in my chest.

What the fuck?

It’s then I realize how hard I’m smiling.

“I’m not.” Too rough. Too scratchy. Too fucking vulnerable.

She’s not even touching you, fucker, and here you are. All hot and bothered.

Shut up.

She giggles, the sound reverberating as the most adorable drunken giggle I’ve ever witnessed.

It pains me how oblivious she is.

Her dress hikes up her thighs, almost baring her ass to me, and in other cases I would’ve been turned on.

But now? My blood fucking boils.

I should’ve killed that fucker while I could.

I’d taken care of drunk girls before, most of them being my friends.

I’m the boring ass in the friend group that always stays sober to take care of the others. The others that get so drunk and messed up that I have to take them up to their apartment and put them to bed because of how out of their mind they become.

I’ve never thought much of it.

Never cared, really.

But this girl?

Goddamn it.

One second she infuriates the hell out of me; she’s stubborn, hot headed, and just reckless.

Irresponsible.

Then the other I’m smiling like a dork in love.

She’s not even my type for fucks sake.

But then again, this is the first time I’ve seen her like this.

So vulnerable, with her guard down. I tug her dress to cover her ass with barely restrained madness.

She reaches up to touch my face with what seems like the utmost amount of effort from her to make any movement.

“pretty.” As she touches my face with light fingertips and pink cheeks.

Crumble. I almost crumble.

“Yeah?” I don’t know what’s gotten into me when I push away another rogue hair strand as she giggles again.

“mhm.” A little hum of contentment before she drops her hand and flutters those eyes closed.

Softly, softly, softly.

With a step back and a tired sigh, I cover her up with a blanket as I tuck her in and make sure she’s comfortable.

I make pretty quick work with taking my bedsheets off, with utmost effort not to grimace every time I get a slight whiff.

It’s not that bad…it’s just…weird.

Really weird.

Whenever I picture y/n in my bed, every single fantasy that clouds my mind is inappropriate.

But tucking a girl in a bed that was previously used by another girl just hours before? Not to mention, a naked one?

That’s a douche move.

And I never thought of myself lowly or in any way to appear humble. But im also not a fucking asshole.

Im arrogant? So what?

Im confident. I plead guilty.

Cocky? Whatever floats your boat.

I tug at my sanity that hangs by a dwindled thread. My thoughts race back to a dreamy gaze and soft eyes. Adorable frowns and drunken giggles.

if it was as easy as bottling them up in a pitcher so I could drink her in every once in a while, I would’ve done it a while ago.

If I could, I would.

My mind was so caught up with her that I didn’t even notice how fast I’d changed the sheets.

I’d cracked the window open for a little ventilation and fetched an air freshener, which made the room smell decent. Better than decent.

A quick change of clothes and bedsheets later, Im carrying y/n from the couch to my room.

I lay her on the bed and nudge her awake.

“y/n?” a tap to the cheek.

Thankfully, she stirs awake. The drunken haze a little lesser than before, but nevertheless still there. Her eyes peer up at me, droopy with exhaustion.

I clear my throat awkwardly under her gaze, switching my weight from one foot to another.

“you need to change.”

Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as she tilts her head.

“your dress looks uncomfortable to sleep in.”

Excuses.

“left you one of my Tee’s so you could change.” I turn around and head for the door, giving her much needed privacy. “you have five minutes. Change.”

And with that, im out of the room closing the door behind me.

I lean back on the door and take my phone out of the sweats I put on earlier, purely for the decency of y/n being here.

I usually walk around in my boxers as well as sleep in them, but it’s too early to traumatize the girl.

Not even past unlocking my phone, y/n’s voice reaches my ear from behind me as she yells my name.

I knock, unsure if I should come in, but enter when I hear her confirmation.

Peaking my head into the small opening I’ve made through the door, my eyes land on y/n with her facing me.

Her eyebrows are pulled together in concentration as her hands are both reached behind her back, apparently struggling with something.

Her heels are off and her hair is messy from her running her hands through it, her mascara smudged and her lipstick almost completely wiped off.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight.

Her lips pull forward in a slight pout, and she turns around to grace me with a view of her halfway bare back.

She tugs harder at the zipper, only getting it stuck farther.

“help?” she asks in a tiny voice, looking above her shoulder with a helpless look.

Noting how long I’ve been standing in place, frozen and doing nothing, I clear my throat as I shuffle my feet towards her.

“oh, um, yeah.” Staggering for words was never my thing. Rubbing my neck was never my nervous tick.

Except…y/n was never my thing, either.

Her beautifully messy hair cascades down her back, and I bundle it up with a hand and rest it over one of her shoulders. My fingertips lightly touch hers and the distraction that accompanies the shiver rolling through her body at the contact clouds my focus. Her hands fall to be replaced with mine at the zipper, and I tug gently.

It doesn’t budge.

Okay, it’s stuck.

Obviously, genius.

When my knuckles graze her skin as I try to get a better grip on the zipper, she shivers again, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

Pretty baby’s a sensitive drunk.

A giggly, bubbly, and hella oblivious drunk.

Focus.

I pinch the frayed open sides above the zipper with one hand and tug it with the other, a concentrated rumble of my chest unconsciously making an appearance.

I’ve apparently shifted closer to y/n in the process, and I just now realize that I might’ve groaned in her ear.

When I successfully slide the zipper down just above the curve of her ass, y/n turns around with a grace I don't miss even as my undying lust for the feel of her skin remains unwavering.

“thank you.” Sounds barely audible from how breathless she sounds, and fuck, when she bites her lip, I want to punch myself.

Those lips.

Those eyes.

My cock restrains, stiffening at the images attacking my mind with her lips around it.

A gust of wind blows through the curtains, thrashing y/n’s hair in all different directions.

I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, knowing damn well I have no business touching this girl.

This girl that stands almost naked and drunk in the moonlit darkness of my room.

Her softness bothers me.

Her innocence a loud cry for corruption.

She reaches up to undo the strands of her dress, and the realization that she must’ve seen something in my eyes snaps me back into reality.

I was always told how much my eyes could tell.

And judging by my earlier thoughts, she must’ve seen it.

The darkness.

The lust.

She starts to slip her dress down, down, down, and my mind is nowhere to be found.

My cock hardens at the thought of her naked, submission written all over her.

But this is wrong.

So wrong.

Even as I step closer to her and bind my forehead with hers, my mind goes in all different directions.

Fuck her.

Shut up.

“Y/n.” a raspy attempt at a plead. “you’re drunk.”

She closes her eyes. “I want this.”

Fuck me sideways.

I know for a fact she doesn't.

I'm not stupid.

Even as my forehead stays pressed to hers, I don’t miss the tangy scent of tequila on her breath. Faint, but there.

I haven’t forgotten how red her eyes still are.

How dry her lips are from all the alcohol.

The pink tint of her neck and cheeks.

Alcohol is flowing more than freely in her system, and I know for a fact she also wont remember a thing.

“you don’t.”

So I do something stupid.

Something I know I'll regret by tomorrow.

I stop her hand that’s tugging her dress down and cage it between both of our bodies. I place my other on her neck, long fingers eating up the space beneath her jaw as my thumb rests on her cheek.

I stroke it once, twice, three times.

And I kiss her.

A small, feather-light peck on her swollen lips.

It's not needy, nor is it hungry for anything more.

It's something I crave to keep me sane, at least for the next few hours.

Because this girl?

This girl is a deadly thing that will destroy me.

She’ll destroy me before I ever get the chance to ruin her.

And the bad thing is?

Even as I pull away,

Even as I shove my tee shirt into her hands and bolt out of the room after telling her to sleep,

Realizing the fact that I didn’t regret it scares me.

Even as I grab a towel, strip bare, and lock myself in the bathroom,

I think about her.

The freezing water does little to calm the white hot lust in my veins, and my stiffened cock stands true to that statement.

I wrap my fist around my dick, and I dare to fucking think about her.

I think about her on her knees, mouth open.

I think about her on my bed, laying on her back with her legs open.

I think about her on top of me.

I close my eyes and I fucking think about those lips, those eyes, that dreamy gaze.

Her soft sighs.

How she’d kiss me.

Would she gasp into my mouth?

Cry into my pillow if I pounded her pussy from behind?

Would she beg?

She’d be my little slut.

My pretty baby.

I cum the hardest I ever have, a guttural grunt and an explicit “fuck.” into the walls of my bathroom. Alone in a goddamn shower, when im fisting my cock and thinking about someone.

No, not someone.

Fucking y/n of all people.

And guess the fuck what?

I want to kiss her again.

how was your day today 😇

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland

@skzthinker @whoa-jo

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #love #nbaf #never been a friend #brothers best friend #brother's best friend #fast paced #networkbangtan #jungkook twoshot #smut #kjnda #bts smut #jungkook smut

[ghostofhyuck]

Deja Vu

It’s been months since you two broke up and Jeno got a new girl now. She’s pretty, nice, and exactly his ideal type. And yet, the ghost of you still lingers, maybe because Jeno brings her to the places you two used to go. 

Deja vu? Maybe. Or it’s just Jeno’s not over you. 

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: angst, fluff, ex to lovers (?) cheating if you squint really REALLY hard.

Song inspiration: Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo

AN: TDS3 D3 Jeno went topless and it was a sign for me to finish this fic. 

Also this is part two of this fic. Read it so that you can have more context, but this can still serve as a stand-alone. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“So, where is this ride going?” you asked. 

“If I told you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Jeno replied. A smile plastered on his lips as he took a quick glance at you before focusing on the road. 

It was five in the afternoon. The sun’s slowly setting, and the sky’s painted in its godly gold. It’s bright and warm, as the sun’s shine passed through the window of Jeno’s Ford Mustang. You just finished your last exam for the semester. After nights of cramming and chugging down coffee, you’re finally free from the semester. Vacation is just around the corner, and what’s the perfect thing to celebrate the end of semester other than celebrating it with your boyfriend?

You watched as Jeno drove smoothly across town, going down the coastal area where the sunset’s more pleasing to watch. You slide across the bridge and the next thing you know, the sun’s following you through the long bay of your town’s beach. 

Jeno knows how much you love the beach. It’s a safe place for you where you can get away from your university. So you two just usually hangout around the coast. 

Your boyfriend parks the car near the baywalk. He quickly turns off the engine, and just like the usual thing he does, he leaves the car first and opens your car for you. 

“You don’t always have to do this, you know that?” 

“But I want to,” he said casually just like the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders immediately, pulling you closer to him. You only smile as he gives you a small kiss on the head. 

“So, where are you taking me?” you asked once again. 

Jeno only hums as he stops, that’s when your eyes widen at the shop in front of you. 

“No way!” you shouted. 

“They just opened yesterday, so why not celebrate with a cup of yoghurt?” Jeno smiled. 

“Oh my god, I’ve been craving for it for so long!” you shouted. 

Jeno only smiles, internally patting himself good job. He knows everything about you, and he knows how lately you’ve been obsessed with yoghurt. Whether it be a drink or served in a cup, you’ll love it somehow.

“Did I ever tell you that I love you?” you asked your boyfriend who only lets out a chuckle before stealing a kiss on you. 

“I love you too bub, now come on, it’s a do-it-yourself, so get as many toppings as you want.”

When you entered the shop, you immediately separated from your boyfriend, eager to have a cup of yoghurt. Jeno watched as you grabbed a large cup before going to the yoghurt machine. He was smiling ear to ear as you moved to the topping and sauce section, picking carefully your toppings because you’re still a picky eater nevertheless. 

Eventually, he joins you as he grabs a medium cup and picks some toppings that suit his taste. After weighing the cup and paying for the dessert, the two of you went out where an al fresco area can be found. You two sat at the corner, digging on the delectable treat that you two are having. 

The sun is setting and you’re halfway on your cup, you could only stare at the sun. feeling overwhelmed but in a good sense. You finally finished your semester and your boyfriend brought you to a yoghurt shop. You couldn’t help but to smile. Things are better and you just feel so lucky to be here right now. 

“Having deep thoughts again?” Jeno asked, knowing that you tend to space out sometimes. 

“No, no deep thoughts,” you told him. “Just happy right now.”

“Oh really?” Jeno teases, “can I ask why?”

You only smiled, “of course because school’s over, and I have my handsome boyfriend treat me my favorite dessert at the moment.”

Jeno only smiled, gazing at you lovingly. He wonders if days are going to be like this. He likes this life of his. In this town where it’s just you and him, in a small yoghurt shop, with the sun setting on the background. 

And as Jeno stares at you, he couldn’t help but be in awe. Thinking how lucky he is to have a girlfriend like you. 

Your attention shifted to him, making him stare at you even more lovingly.

“Jeno,” you called out. 

“What?” 

“You’re spacing out,”

“What makes you think of that, yn?” 

“Yn?”

Jeno’s eyes widened. 

“Who’s yn?” 

The girl in front of him is not you. Her hair is in a different shade, falling along her shoulders, unlike yours who you usually tie in a messy ponytail whenever you’re eating something. She’s pretty, definitely pretty that it can make anyone turn their head. 

They stared at each other for a minute. That’s when Jeno realised that your name slipped onto his lips. 

Fuck. He thought. That’s when he remembered. It’s been months ever since you two broke up. Months after that night that was full of frustrations and arguments. Jeno barely recalled what you two argued about but he knew that you were crying and instead of comforting you, he stormed out of your place.

You two didn’t break up that night officially, you called it quits over a text three days later. Instead of calling you, Jeno lets it be. Thinking that you two were just never meant to be. 

Unlike you, Jeno found it easy to get over you. He’s a charming guy, so it was quick for him to find another girl that he can love again. 

Or so he thought. Because as he stared at the girl in front of him, he couldn’t believe that he called her by your name. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing, sorry,” he quickly apologised. Shifting his attention to the melted yoghurt on his cup. 

Maybe it was his fault. For bringing her to the places you two went. Jeno knows that there are a lot of places where he can bring her, but why does he always end up in the coastal area? On a particular yoghurt shop that you love? 

Jeno couldn’t help but to question it. He thought that he’s over you but it seems like the ghost of you still keeps on haunting him. 

You who’s always cheery. You who always have a certain sweet treat every semester. You who loves bringing your polaroid camera and taking photos of the people you hang out with. 

You, who was there for Jeno. Who loved him despite his flaws and even though he is lacking in some parts, you ignored it and loved him nevertheless.

He wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t looking for a perfect boyfriend. You love Lee Jeno no matter what. And you always say that to him. 

“Hey Jen, I’m done here, should we get going now?” Jeno snapped out once again when she spoke out again. 

He stares at his yoghurt. It’s all melted and doesn’t look appetising at all. He then glances at the sun and it’s barely touching the sea. If it was you who’s with him, you two will wait until the sun sets and set out when the stars are in the sky. 

But you’re not with him anymore, and he’s with a new girl. Who’s pretty, who’s nice, and is exactly his ideal type. Jeno had accepted it, after all. It’s not only him who’s moving on. He knows that Mark Lee’s making a move on you. He watched as you laughed with him over a cup of coffee a few weeks earlier. 

So it seems like you two are moving on. Good for you. He thought. You deserve someone better than him. While he knows that there are no other girls that can surpass you, Jeno hopes that at least for his side, he can be a better man for his new girl. 

The ride home was nothing but an awkward tense. Jeno keeps on glancing at her, who’s too busy on her phone. If it was you, your eyes would linger on the view outside — even though you’ve grown up in this area, you always love staring at the view. But at some time, you’ll shift your gaze at Jeno, who’ll reciprocate your giggles with a soft chuckle. His free hand lacing around your fingers, never letting you go until you reached your place.

“Watch out!” and luckily, Jeno stepped on the brake quickly. His eyes staring at the dog that just passed by. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t —” 

“No, of course not! The dog suddenly jumped out of nowhere,” she said in a soft tone, smiling as she pats Jeno’s shoulders. “You prevented it too, and there’s no accident that happened, so it’s okay.”

Jeno could only let out a sigh. Somehow, he feels like blaming himself because of the incident, if it wasn’t him thinking about you, then maybe he’ll be more concentrated on his drive. He tried to focus on the road, but you’re in his mind no matter how hard he tries to shake the thought of you. 

He didn’t notice that he just reached her place. It was as if he was driving out of instincts. 

“Thanks for dropping me off,” she said, smiling. 

“No worries,” Jeno only said, and before she left, she gave Jeno a soft kiss on the cheeks. Jeno watches as she gets out of the car, walks through her apartment and closes the door. 

But Jeno couldn’t move from his seat. He doesn’t know what to do. Frustrated, Jeno lets out a sigh as he rests his head on the headboard. He doesn’t want to fuck up. He already ruined your relationship, he couldn’t bear to ruin another one too. 

“I’m so stupid,” Jeno whispered. He opens his eyes and looks at the road. He knows that deep inside, he’s not yet ready to enter another relationship. It’s too soon. 

Not when you spent three years together, and broke up abruptly. Throwing everything you two had. Never had a decent closure or even a proper apology from each other because of what happened that night. No. The only thing Jeno wants more is to find closure from you, and perhaps, in the better light, 

you two can finally move on and find someone better. 

Jeno knows that partly, it’s his fault that things went downhill. So it's up to him to fix everything. He turned on the engine, and without any hesitation, drove to a familiar route that he memorised by heart. It was a gamble, but Jeno was willing to see the outcome of his indecisive decisions. 

As he reached your place, Jeno didn’t hesitate to turn off his engine, leaving his car as soon as possible. 

He walks towards your apartment, a sense of familiarity welcomed him. It felt like home and Jeno tries to brush off that feeling — that odd sense of missing a place that has been a home for him for years. 

Jeno stops in front of your door. He lets out a deep sigh before knocking on the door. For a minute, no one answered.

He knocks once more. Two, three, four loud knocks, in hopes that it can be enough for you to open the door. 

But within a minute, no one answered. Jeno took it as a sign. That maybe closure isn’t for you two. Jeno tried to ease his beating heart — he didn’t even notice that it had been beating abnormally ever since he arrived at your place. 

So he turned his heels around, walking a few steps when he heard the door open. 

“Jeno? What are you doing here?” 

As he turned around, Jeno was shunned. 

There you are, with your hair in a mess, wearing your favourite cinnamoroll-patterned pajamas. He saw how your round eyes became wider as he made eye contact with you — both yearning for something. 

“I…I —” Jeno decided to go near you. “I just, want to ask you how you have been.” 

That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid. Jeno’s mind was barely functioning when those words slipped out of his mouth. 

But you didn’t take it into something. You were just surprised. Jeno’s in front of you. The sense of familiarity to the man in front of you is still there. His scent, presence, and the feelings you had for him. It’s all still there. 

And you don’t know why, but maybe you just wanted to see if he still loves you. 

Because instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and smashed your lips onto his. 

But in a quick second, you realised that what you did was stupid. You broke out of the kiss, and yet your hand remains on his. 

Jeno’s gaze shifted from a surprised one to something more familiar. Lovingly. You knew that stare, you’ve always loved that stare of his. You know that because you’re the only one who he gave that gaze with. 

And the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You couldn’t help but to kiss him back with more intensity. His arms instinctively hold your waist as you attempt to balance yourself. He pushes you backward, making you two enter your apartment without breaking the kiss.

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