#and it made my writing so so much fucking better

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

#mine #my writing! #art x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x tashi duncan #art donaldson drabble #art donaldson blurb #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson fanfiction #challengers movie #challengers #challengers fic #challengers film #challengers fanfiction #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan x you #art x tashi x reader #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #writing fanfic #smut writing #fluff writing #writing for myself #art x tashi

[ja3yun]

To, Future You | S.JY

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm

Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.

The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.

Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.

He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.

Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.

However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.

Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.

So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.

Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.

Hi, Y/N.

How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.

Anyway, hi again!

I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.

Is that too harsh? 

Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.

I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)

I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.

I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.

This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:

I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P 

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.

How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.

Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.

And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.

In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it. 

However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...

Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.

Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.

Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.

There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.

As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.

There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message. 

Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.

Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.

You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.

"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"

You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.

But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.

Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but  I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :) 

You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.

_____

Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.

It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.

You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.

The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life. 

Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?

The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.

As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.

You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.

His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-

*ping*

Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga.  The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.

Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home! 

It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.

I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.

Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you. 

His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."

While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.

Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.

You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it! 

With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.

Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.

It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.

As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?

The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.

“Y/N?”

Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.

"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”

He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”

Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”

You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.

He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face. 

It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.

Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.

Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.

"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.

"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.

The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.

But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.

His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.

He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”

“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.

What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.

You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.

Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.

As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.

You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.

The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.

Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat. 

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.

“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”

As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”

Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”

You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.

Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.

You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.

Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”

“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”

Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.

You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."

“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show. 

Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.

So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.

“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.

“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.

You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.

He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t. 

“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.

“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.

But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.

It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.

Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.

“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.

This damn letter.

“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.

Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.

Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.

“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.

Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.

You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.

You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.

“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.

"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.

Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.

Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"

You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.

There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.

You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.

Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.

A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."

You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.

Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."

Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.

Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."

You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.

"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"

The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.

Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.

"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."

His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.

"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.

Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.

"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.

Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret. 

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.

As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.

Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.

"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.

The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.

"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.

Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.

As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”

“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.

You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.

Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.

Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.

Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.

You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.

He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.

Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.

Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."

His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.

You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.

As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.

Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.

You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.

While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.

Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”

Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.

But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."

The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.

As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world. 

You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.

Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”

“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands. 

Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.

You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.

You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.

“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.

You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.

Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.

“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.

“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.

Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”

Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.

“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.

Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”

He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.

You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.

“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”

His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.

“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”

His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.

With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.

“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”

You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.

Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.

Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.

But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.

You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.

So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.

He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.

As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.

Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.

Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.

The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.

Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.

Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.

You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are. 

Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.

One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.

You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.

His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.

“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.

You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.

“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.

Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.

Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.

You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.

As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.

For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.

Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.

You’re never going to be able to let him go.

Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.

Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions. 

"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”

His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.

Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.

As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.

Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.

His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.

The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.

With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.

“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”

Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.

Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.

It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.

Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.

You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.

“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.

“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.

Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.

Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.

Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.

Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.

Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.

However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.

Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.

So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely. 

Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully. 

"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”

You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.

Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.

“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.

As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.

The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.

"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.

Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.

The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.

Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.

As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.

You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.

Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.

With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.

He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”

The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.

However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.

“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.

Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."

The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.

"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.

Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.

Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.

For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.

"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.

Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.

"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.

For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.

"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."

You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly. 

Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”

You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.

“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.

“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening,  “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”

Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.

You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism. 

How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?

With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”

You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”

Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.

"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”

The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #aj writes #enhypen x reader

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos. 

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x you

[sunkissed-zegras]

evangeline's 2.5k fic rec list + celly information !!

before we get into it, i wanted to get a little sentimental because hitting this amount of followers has always been a dream of mine. i made this blog in august of 2023, in hopes of creating a family whom i can talk to and just... be around. and i did just that!

i love every single one of those 2,500 of you, full heartedly and so genuinely. i may not have interacted with every single one of you, but you are all part of my family here and i really, really do 🫶🏼

if you came for hockey or for women's basketball, i don't care i just love you. you're the best, thank you for supporting me and for making my life so much better and more rewarding!

and to my wonderful moots who always make me feel so loved, I LOVE & SUPPORT YOU SO DAMN MUCH!!!!! it is indescribable how much i love you so much 🩷. every single one of you make me feel so grateful and loved, thank you 🫶🏼

take a shot every time i say "love" in this message... you're gonna be blackout drunk...

FIC REC LIST 2024

bold is nsfw! minors dni!

𝐍𝐇𝐋

⟡ jack hughes ⟡

➜ who's afraid of little old me? @babydollmarauders

➜ i'm no goddess @drysdalesv

⟡ quinn hughes ⟡

➜ a view to remember @sweetestdesire

⟡ luke hughes ⟡

➜ goodbye too soon @sc0tters

⟡ trevor zegras ⟡

➜ just a kiss @sweetestdesire

𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋

⟡ paige bueckers ⟡

➜ seven [series] @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

➜ sometimes home is a person @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

➜ fuck the hurt right outta you @makethemhoesmad

➜ false god @makethemhoesmad

➜ sneaky link w chemistry series @arlertwhore

➜ gf headcanons @euphternal

➜ baby daddy @caitlinbueckers

➜ are you done yet? @girlokwhatever

➜ marks of my love @girlokwhatever

➜ overstim @bueckersstrap

➜ imgonnagetyouback @leilanihours

➜ the ask [series] @sweetbans29

➜ throw away [series] @bueckersstrap

⟡ azzi fudd ⟡

➜ if you think i'm pretty @makethemhoesmad

➜ i need you @makethemhoesmad

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @pbueckerslover

➜ strap @kamii-2

⟡ kk arnold ⟡

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @mokassong

➜ lunch @luvzpagie

➜ glitter gloss @luvzpagie

➜ caught @mokassong

➜ locker of petals @patscorner

⟡ nika muhl ⟡

➜ grillz @paigebueckersmommy

➜ gf headcanons @paigebueckersmommy

➜ everything @leilanihours

➜ lunch @jareaul0ver

➜ so high school @jareaul0ver

➜ courtside @lovinpelova

➜ domestic headcanons @mayghosts

⟡ caitlin clark ⟡

➜ fuck it [series?] @caitlinbueckers

➜ so high school @leilanihours

➜ dress @leilanihours

➜ be here @sweetbans29

➜ friendship bracelet @sweetbans29

➜ protector @sweetbans29

⟡ kate martin ⟡

➜ good girl @makethemhoesmad

➜ uh oh @girlokwhatever

➜ gold rush @leilanihours

⟡ emily engstler ⟡

➜ make you feel good @girlokwhatever

➜ end of beginnings @girlokwhatever

➜ coach emily headcanons @euphternal

CELEBRATION (THROUGH FRIDAY 05/30/24 UNTIL MONDAY 06/03/24)

[this celebration is not happening as of right now (may 27), it will be active on friday! please do not send anything until friday!!!! thank you, my loves!!!!]

all requests need to be send with a prompt to make it easier for me! any prompt is okay (whether you made it up or found it online, it's okay!) here is a list of prompts if you can't think of any! also make sure to be specific which exact prompt you want, i would prefer you to copy and paste it!

angsty prompt list #1

angsty prompt list #2

fluffy prompt list #1

fluffy prompt list #2

smutty prompt list #1

smutty prompt list #2

🍀 send this & i will write a short fluffy blurb for you!

🌪️ send this & i will write a short angsty blurb for you!

🥭 send this & i will write a short smutty blurb for you!

🥧 send this & a scenario you've been thinking about, and i'll write some headcanons and/or a blurb!

again, thank you to everyone who has ever supported me in any way, shape or form! i love you so fucking much like genuinely, BUT ANYWAYSSS!!!!!!!!

#evangeline's 2.5k celly ☆ #wcbb #wcbb x reader #uconn wcbb #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #paige buckets #kk arnold #paige bueckers #nika mühl #nika muhl #azzi fudd #emily engstler #kate martin #caitlin clark #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky waking you up in the best way possible on your birthday

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky wakes you up in the best way possible on your birthday.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, pet names

A/N: My birthday is tomorrow (May 29th) and I had to write and post this. Enjoy!

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

A pleasure filled hum left your lips when you felt something in between your legs on your lower region. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked under the blanket to see Bucky in between your legs and eating you out like his life depends on it. Bucky’s free hand tossed the blanket off of the two of you so you can see him.

“Good morning, babydoll.” Bucky huskily says against your pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned in response.

Bucky smirks against your pussy and continued to eat you out. He brought his vibranium hand up to your breasts, giving one of them a gentle squeeze. You shivered at the feeling of the cool vibranium against your skin. Bucky’s tongue flicked against your clit while two of his fingers on his right hand were fucking you. The stubble of his beard was scratching your inner thighs in the way you love so much. Bucky’s eyes flickered up at you, making eye contact with you. His vibranium hand left your breast to caress your chin. He tilted your head down to get a better look at your face. His vibranium thumb rubbed across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb in your mouth. You sucked on it, swirling your tongue around it like you do with his cock. Bucky slowly took his thumb out of your mouth and brought it down to your pussy, removing his mouth from your clit and replaced it with his thumb, applying a little bit of pressure as he rubbed it in circles.

“Bucky!” You moaned loudly.

“That’s right, birthday girl.” His voice is husky. “Keep moaning my name.” He says.

His name left your lips like a chant. It was like music to Bucky’s ears.

“I can feel you getting close, doll face.” He says, feeling your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Mmm yes!” You moaned. “Please let me cum.” You begged.

“You don’t need my permission to cum on your birthday.” He says.

His thumb applied more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it and his fingers moved fucked you faster. Your hands clutched the sheets beneath you. A loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard. Bucky’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last rub before taking his fingers out of your cunt and licked your release off of his fingers, moaning at your taste. He then kissed up your body. You gasped when his teeth bit down hard enough on your skin to left a hickey. He kissed you hungrily when he got to your lips.

“Happy Birthday, doll.” Bucky says against your lips.

“Mhmm, thank you, babe.” You say, smiling against his lip.

“Just know, there’s more to come on your special day.” He says seductively.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb

[3cremepie3]

Malleus with a gn reader (amab) with Malleus constantly peppering kisses while fucking them please?

Wander

Synopsis - Malleus having some lovey-dovey sex with gn (amab) reader!! Fluff, smut!

Warnings - Creampie, stomach bludging, cursing

A/n - this is my first time writing for an amab reader. If I made any mistakes pls let me know I plan on writing more fics like this in the future. Thank you so much for requesting btw!!

“Y/n,” Malleus called trying to get your attention. Your eyes were wandering everywhere but his even though you felt his intense stare. “Why aren’t you looking at me, darling? Are you perhaps embarrassed?” There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I know it’s just…”. You couldn’t even get the words out of your mouth as a moan interrupted your speech. “It’s okay use your words.” Malleus soothed you as he kissed you up the nape of your neck. This allowed you to lean in further to his body that was already smothering you.

His abs felt so hard against your leaking dick adding to the pleasure your body was feeling. Your eyes locked with him as your new position forced you to. His stare was intense but loving and for the first time, you could see the fae in all his glory.

Thee Malleus was balls deep hammering into your hole while blushing. You felt a sense of relief wash over you knowing that he was enjoying himself. “So tight I hope I don’t break you, child of man,” he groaned.

“I can handle it… I think,” you whispered. “So quiet,” he laughed. “So cute.” He left another kiss along your neck sending shivers up your sweaty spine. He was so gentle in contrast to his rough strokes that would leave you stretched out for days.

“Fuck so deep!” You yelped feeling him bludge himself into your stomach. “Such a vulgar mouth for a beautiful creature. You must need help covering it huh?” Before you could answer Malleus's tounge swallowed yours.

You exchanged a heated kiss that had drool dripping from the sides of your mouths. “Can’t breathe.” You spoke in between exchanges. It felt as though he was stealing your breath away. And for a moment you were oxygen-deprived.

He finally pulled away from not kissing your mouth but every spot he could see on your face. “So good for me,” he cooed. His hand traveled down your stomach and settled on your dick. You were almost at your limit and Malleus could tell since you were gripping him so tightly.

He kept hitting that sweet spot inside of you. With each stroke, someone began to feel better than the last as he rubbed you up and down slowly. The pace of his hips and his hand didn’t match and it sent your body into an early frenzy. “Faster please faster,” you begged. Your hand went over his quicking his pace.

“Making a mess and you haven’t even cum yet how naughty,” he gasped. You were too humiliated to respond all you could do was sit there and take it. Malleus continued his attack of kisses over your body even as you came into his palm. It shot up on top of you hitting his abs like they were a perfect target.

Your body fell limp as all your energy was exuded. So Malleus had to use you like a ragdoll to finish. “I’ll be done soon, my love.” He kissed your lips to make up for it as he followed after you. By the time he was done cumming your insides felt full. He remained inside of you plugging his liquid in.

You watched as he pulled out still keeping eye contact with you. And you were for sure not meeting your eyes wander from this sight.

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fandom #twst smut #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland fan fic #twst wonderland #malleus x you #malleus x y/n #malleus x reader smut #malleus smut #twst malleus #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleyuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland smut #3creampie3 #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst yuu #twst rp

[mopopshop]

Secret Plays

Summary: For three months, you've been secretly dating Diana Taurasi, your Phoenix Mercury teammate. Despite trying to keep it private, Diana's flirtatious behavior makes it hard to hide.

I made an OC for this one too bcs once again i hate using y/n in my writing and for my DT works reader is always gonna be 30+ bcs i don’t do huge huge age gaps like that 🧍🏾‍♀️

love y’all please enjoy !!🫶🏾🫶🏾

You and DT had been together secretly for about three months now, most of the team knew, coach suspected, but most importantly none of the public did. 

You were no longer considered a rookie as it’s your 7th year in the league. You came to the Mercury shortly after your 30th birthday and a great off-season overseas. You immediately caught Diana’s attention when you’d showed up for the first day of training camp, standing there awkwardly as coach introduced you to the rest of the team. 

From then on, Diana couldn’t not be around you, making any little excuse to be in your presence. Grabbing a new ball from storage? she tagged along, your shoes untied? immediately kneeling down to do it for you, walking to your car after practice? she’s right there with you. 

All the flirtatious tension between you two finally bubbled over at a team dinner that basically turned into a first date between you and D. The two of you had snuck off and spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other better. Eventually D drove you home, walked you to your door and that’s where you had shared your first kiss, after you pulled apart she whispered a husky “goodnight” in your ear and kissed your hand before reluctantly leaving in her car. You hadn’t stopped smiling for at least a week after the fact, giggling and blushing at the thought.

All that leading to the present day, you and D wee content with keeping your relationship out of the public eye. You weren’t ashamed of each other in any way but it’s peaceful and keeps nosy press out of your space.

Not that Diana’s good at keeping said secret though and especially at this game. 

It was Phoenix VS. Dallas and from the moment the team had stepped out on the court for warm ups D couldn’t keep her hands off you. 

Coach had you practicing shooting in a line to get loosened up and of course Diana had to be directly behind you, her hands grasping your waist while you waited your turn.

You whip around in her hold, trying to discreetly push her hands off “D I swear on everythi-“

She cuts you off, throwing her hands up in surrender “Just being a supportive teammate!”

“By touching my ass?”

“They weren’t even on your ass, I put my hands there to-“

You tune her out as Kaleah turns and tosses you the ball, catching it and effortlessly making a 3 before making your way to the back of the line. Diana’s right behind you still defending her previous actions and you cut her off quickly, putting a finger to her lips. 

“Hands off, behave.” you say trying to give your best stern look.

She has a big goofy smile on her face, nothing going on in that head of hers “You’re so pretty” she whispers, grabbing your hand from her lips and attempting to lace your fingers together.

You scoff, rolling your eyes and shoving her playfully. Her laugh explodes from behind you and for the rest of warmups you have to continuously remind her to keep her hands to herself because of the onslaught of cameras surrounding you. 

Even during the game she doesn’t stop, as much as you pretend to be annoyed you secretly love how clingy she is today. During quick huddles on the court she has her arm wrapped around your waist and even on the bench she’s got her hand on your thigh, not even paying attention to the game at times she’s just making conversation with you. 

Needless to say she doesn’t give a flying fuck that there’s thousands of fans and cameras around to catch her behavior. 

The game is  pretty neck and neck up until the 4th quarter when Dee makes a game winning shot, naturally, as she always does. The locker room was exploding with noise, the team hyped up on the excitement from winning. Shortly after, your team manager pulled you, Diana, and, Sophie into the press room for some questions. 

 Of course coach puts you and D right next to each other, you’re just praying that she behaves when there’s press directly in front of her face.

 Your prayers are ignored immediately when D puts her hand on your inner thigh, pinching it to get you to laugh. You try to keep your composure but the urge to burst out laughing is overwhelming. You turn to her to see that she’s not even looking at the room in front of her, her head is propped on her free hand as she’s turned towards you smirking. 

“Pay attention” you mouth 

She smiles wider, shaking her head and continues to mess with you. Finally a question is directed towards her and you hope it will get her to focus. 

“Um this one’s for Diana, You have stated multiple times that you see yourself as a sort of mentor for Audrey since she’s joined the team, how do you think that’s translated onto the court?” 

Diana straightens up slightly, but her hand remains on your thigh. She looks at the reporter and then back at you before finally addressing the question.

"Well," Diana starts, her voice steady and confident, "Audrey came to us with a lot of skill and potential. It's been a pleasure to work with her, not that there was much to change ‘cause she’s already so… talented and smart and brilliant-"

“Oh my god” you groan out, hiding your head in your hands.

She chuckles in the middle of her sentence, glancing at you “Nah, I’m kidding, I’m kidding well not really but anyways-“

You smack her bicep, laughing lightly “Jesus, D”

“Anyways! Anyways, you can see that she's become more confident and assertive. We've developed a great.. chemistry,” she sends you a quick wink that makes you blush “and have gotten much closer, which I think is evident in how we play together."

You nod along, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite the sensation of Diana's fingers gently tracing patterns on your thigh.

The next question comes your way. "Audrey, what has it been like working so closely with Diana Taurasi? How has her mentorship influenced your game?"

You take a deep breath, trying to focus solely on the question. "Working with D has been incredible. She's pushed me to be better every day, and her confidence in me has really helped elevate my game. Even though I’ve been in the league for a while, my level of experience is nowhere near hers.. clearly” you chuckle make a snide but playful remark about her age and she shoves you lightly “And I feel like I've grown a lot as a player because of her guidance."

Diana gives your thigh a light squeeze, a silent acknowledgment of your words. The press conference continues with more questions, and you manage to keep your composure through it all, even as Diana's hand remains a constant, teasing presence.

After what feels like an eternity, the press conference finally wraps up. As you stand up to leave, Diana places her hand on your lower back to guide you out of the room, leaning in close and whispering in your ear, "You did great."

You can't help but smile. "You’re fucking impossible, you know that?"

She grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Only for you."

Back in the locker room, the team is still buzzing with excitement from the win. You and Diana slip away for a moment of privacy in a quieter corner. She pulls you into a gentle kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours.

"I can't help it," she murmurs when you pull away, resting her forehead against yours. "I just want to be close to you."

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair back that’d escaped from her bun "Yeah I know, I know but keep your hands to yourself when there’s thousands of people with their own cameras that can catch your fingers wandering in about 3,000 different angles and HD quality"

She sighs dramatically but nods. "Fine, fine. But only because you asked nicely."

Later that night when you’re cuddled up in bed, you finally check your phone and it’s… interesting to say the least.

—————————

username231: am i the only one seeing the tension between audrey and dt🤨

username231 replied: I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONEEE 

username231: did yall spot dt hugging audrey from behind during warmups???

username231: nobody told me the wnba had this much lesbian drama LMAO😭😭

username231: the way dt was looking at audrey during that press conference 😩😩😩 #meandwho

username231 replied: LITERALLYYYY and the way audrey couldn’t stop smiling ugh need that so bad

username231: the w is so gay cus wtf is going on w/ those players on the mercury 

———————

send more DT requests my loves

hope y’all liked it😓

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #diana taurasi #pheonix mercury

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Jealousy looks hot on you (Hannibal)

Description: Hannibal gets jealous after Mason flirts with Y/N.

Warning: Smut

Word Count:939

Request:

Hi,

I absolutely love your one shots/writing style! ❤️

Could you please write a fanfic where the reader is Hannibal‘s secretary and he get‘s jealous after seeing a patient ( bonus point if it‘s mason or franklyn) flirting with her. He has a talk with her ( with smut in the end if possible) and starts confessing. Thank you for considering

Hi,

could you write a jealous Hannibal with a secretary reader? Mason or Franklyn started flirting with the reader and she seemed flattered (to Hannibal), which is why he get‘s jealous (they are not in a realtionship yet). He at first just wants to talk about it, but then snaps (smut in the end?).

Author’s note: I combined two requests for this one. Also thank you so much anon!!! I’m working on a Patrick Zweig request for tomorrow. Send in requests!

Being Hannibal’s Secretary was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because Hannibal was a great lover. Oh and the man cooks! The curse was the unprofessional work relationships and the jealousy. Hannibal would need to get work done and instead by fucking Y/N on the desk minutes before a patient of his was suppose to be there.

His jealousy was unhealthy, they weren’t even together and yet he acts like they are. Y/N thinks that it’s just sex but Hannibal was in love with her. How could he not be? Y/N has been there for him through everything and even in the situation right now with Mason, she was here. Mason was odd to say the least. He definitely wasn’t okay in the head and he was about to be more fucked after Hannibal got him alone. Hannibal glared as he talked with Y/N. Well to Hannibal it was flirting and oh did Y/N look into it.

Mason was a rat and even looked like one too. How the fuck was Y/N okay with this? He watched as Y/N laughed at whatever Mason said. He wasn’t a funny guy, he was a creep. Hannibal bit his lip as he thought of a hundred different ways to kill the man. The smile Y/N had didn’t reach her all the way but reached enough to make Hannibal mad. What pushed him over the edge was when Mason reached out to touch her. Within seconds Mason was pinned to the wall. Hannibal was breathing heavy and his grip on Mason was tight. Mason didn’t look freaked out and had a smirk. “Hannibal, what the fuck?” Y/N asked.

He looked back at her and saw her scared expression. He let go of Mason and turned to her. “I need to talk to you.” He tells her. She looked at Mason and back at him. “Apologize to him first.” She said softly. He wanted to roll his eyes but fought against it. She really had no idea what kind of monster he was. “I’m sorry Mason.” He said but his voice gave no emotion. “I’m thinking that could have sounded more sincere.” Mason says but Hannibal pulls Y/N away. 

“You can’t be with him Y/N.” Was the first words that left his mouth once they were outside Mason’s house. She looked at him confused. “What?” She asked. “He’s not a good guy. You deserve better. He’s crazy and I-“ “Jeez Hannibal I’m not into Mason.” She exclaimed. He nodded and gave her a smile. “Very well then. We should get back to my office.” He said and she nodded and walked to the car. 

After a few drinks in his office the two were stripped off their clothes with Y/N in Hannibal’s lap as they made out in his chair. His hands moved up and down her back as her hands were placed on his shoulders so she could deepen the kiss. They barely pulled away to breathe. His hands went down to her ass and squeezed causing her to moan in his mouth.

He slipped his tongue in her mouth as they sloppily kissed. “Hannibal.” She pulled away from the kiss. “What?” He asked huskily as he ran a hand through her hair. “Why did you care that Mason was flirting with me?” “He’s a bad man Y/N.” “No Hannibal there’s more that you aren’t saying.” He looks down, his hand dropping. “I uh-“ she kisses him softly. “Tell me.” “I’m in love with you Y/N.” He tells her and cups her face. She looks at him and kisses him hard. “Take me to your bed Hannibal.” She said against his lips. 

She looks down at him as she slowly slides down on his dick. It wasn’t the first time but it was the first time that it was out of love. He looked back up at her and his brows furrowed a little as she took him in. She let out a shutter breath as she took him in fully. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her as he places his hands on her hips. She sighs in pleasure as she starts moving her hips.

This time it feels different for them. The feeling was better and more intense. She shuts her eyes as she feels the pleasure coursing through her. Her hips moved deep and slow. Hannibal closed his eyes as well. As her hips moved his hands tightened their grip on her hips. She moans at the feeling causing him to open his eyes. Her head was back and her mouth was open.

Her hips were now picking up speed no long slow and deep. “Fuck.” He groaned as he felt her clenching around him. His bed was squeaking with each of her thrusts. “Hanni.” She moaned and looked down at him. She grabbed one of his hands and moved it to her boob. He squeezed it causing her to gasp.

His other hand moved to her clit and rubbed. She whined his name as she felt her high near. He groaned as he felt himself twitch inside of her. She grabbed the hand that was placed on her boob. Her hand squeezed his as she came with a scream of his name.

He grunted as he came right after her. Both of them moaning as she rode out their highs. She smiled as she collapsed next to him. Both of them were breathing hard and all sweaty. “Hannibal?” “Mhm.” “I love you too.” She said and turned towards him. “Oh and jealousy looks good on you.” She said and he gave her a side eye but smiled.

#hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hugh dancy #will graham #hannibal imagine #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter smut #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader

[vidalinav]

She wants the (Ph)D

Look I debated giving you a taste of another fanfic I'm writing... because it is a little too close to home. In that it is literally my life for the last two years. But I'm taking creative liberty and mixing it up, and it gives me slight second hand embarrassment. It's a fic like Stu(died) but in graduate school and Cassian wears glasses sometimes in this fic. So it's not as innocent. It's quite... well you'll see. Don't judge me too harshly because I swear to god I'm fucking stupid.

~

Her next door neighbor is a meathead or at least that's what Nesta tells Emerie when she rants about the party he'd thrown last night that kept her up until 3 am.

He's a meathead who disobeys the unspoken social rules that they've set all those months ago.

"You mean the rules you made up when you moved in, which no one knows about but you?"

Nesta waves the information away, with a flick of her wrist. "He's obeyed them all this time, so I don't know why he suddenly wants to party. Why couldn't he stay a friendless loser who never invites anyone over?"

Emerie snorts, pulling out her laptop. She's about to start working and Nesta knows she should be doing that too and finishing up the PowerPoint of her proposal, but how can she when she's tired from staying up all night instead of sleeping like a normal person? 3 am and she listens to boys yelling and their tasteless music and their loud laughs as if there's anything to be laughing about at 3 am.

"A rager has gotta be better than hearing him go at it through the walls."

"No! That was better," Nesta decides, grimacing at the countless memories that accost her mind of the girlfriend who just wouldn't leave. "At least that only lasted for five minutes."

Emerie laughs at that, already knowing the stories that have plagued their work sessions. It may not be his fault that the walls are thin, but it is his fault for having sex the minute she gets home. They may share a wall where they sleep at night, but they do not share the same taste for propriety and proper neighborly ethics.

"You know, you know too much about this guy when you don't even know his name."

Nesta huffs, "I think his name is Cassian. I heard his roomate yell it out in the yard when he came back last week."

"Cassian," Emerie says, humming like she's considering the quality of his name. "It's not the name I would have thought of for a meathead who only lasts five minutes."

"Did I also tell you he's a gymbro? That rat! With a perfect fuckboy face."

Emerie lifts the screen of her laptop and stops, "Perfect?"

Nesta merely shrugs because she's not blind.

She's also not stupid.

"He's perfectly irritating and I wish him total demise. I think his girlfriend broke up with him—which is about time since they argued twice a week—and on a regular day that would suffice, but now he's inconvenienced me and I want him dead."

"Mhmm," Emerie nods, smirking where she sits across, "and he's got such a perfect fuckboy face."

Nesta scowls, but doesn't move to get her laptop or change the topic of conversation. Emerie only gives Nesta an assessing look. "You don't even go to sleep. You'd have still been up at 5 editing your thesis."

"And I couldn't because I was too distracted by the sound of their partying. Who parties on a fucking tuesday?"

~

The difference between this and Stu(died) is that Nesta actually has a crush on him and goes through great lengths (ignoring him) to get his attention.

#nessian #nesta archeron #modern nessian au #vidalinav writes snippets #She wants the (Ph)D

[dokries]

goldleaf

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader

genre: angst, hanahaki au

word count: 1.1k

warnings: no happy ending, mentions of death + implied main character death…eventually, One mention of swearing, unrequited love, the normal hanahaki au things (blood, throwing up, etc.)

author note: um so guess who found out she can actually write angst! it’s written in joshua’s pov the entire time and reader is just kinda in the background (they’re still important though!) also, if you want a lil more info about how i wrote this, check out my reblog! lots of love ♡

masterlist

when joshua sees you with them, he can’t deny that he feels…more than he wishes he did.

he’s sick and tired of the hollowness in his chest but it’s fine. it’ll all be fine once he sees you happy, right? that's what he says to convince himself before looking up at the sky and seeing you in the shape of the clouds and the way the sun hits them and himself.

fuck, he’s in too deep to continue to believe the sorry excuse he’s made up for himself to feel a little better. it never helps anyway, so why keep using it? he lets it go, imagining it fluttering away on a breeze that reminds him way too much of the person always on his mind.

so when the tingling in his throat comes out as petals the same golden like the colour he imagines your soul to be, he isn’t surprised. as he exits the bathroom, he avoids jeonghan’s gaze, promises that he’ll be fine; after all, it’s just a cold—whatever it takes to keep his best friend from worrying. at least he knows his promises won’t be worth much anyway.

he sees you often, your smile as cheery as the flowers haunting him in his dreams and the ones sticking to his lungs, trapped in his chest. he’s alright, he tells himself. he’ll be fine.

he doesn’t go to the doctor. he’s read and seen enough of what’s happening to him, and he knows the choice he’ll have to make if he goes. he knows that the only solution is to forget, but he would never do that. he can’t let go of wandering around in the wheat fields that one summer you two were in the countryside, or the time you laughed and laughed at a joke that wasn’t funny, or when he lost all hope and you were there, making sure he could get back up again and live. if the price of keeping the memories he holds close is death, he’s okay with it.

joshua doesn’t tell his roommates. he knows that jeonghan and seungcheol would drag him to the emergency room against his will, and force him to take the option he’s already decided against. he wouldn’t let them sway him anyway, but it’s easier if they don’t know. however, time seems to choose to leave the bathroom—even when it seems to be going too fast for joshua’s liking these days—when jeonghan finds him hovering over the sink, bloody tissues in his hand and washed petals placed carefully on the side.

the two of them say nothing.

jeonghan leaves, and joshua turns to the mirror above the sink, taking a good look at himself. he wipes off the dried blood on his top lip, noticing nothing else wrong. he doesn’t realize that after he leaves, jeonghan is horrified by the lack of light in his friend’s eyes, the spark he thought would never go out.

jeonghan hasn’t said anything since, lost in his thoughts every time he’s home. seungcheol is freaked out, not understanding the dead silence in the house. he doesn’t know that he’ll have to pay more for rent in…well, however long it takes for joshua’s lungs to finally fill up with your flowers. joshua knows he’s being cruel, but can’t he be allowed to be selfish in his last moments? is that too much to ask for after everything?

he doesn’t approach jeonghan, and instead writes. he writes journal entries in that notebook you got him a few years back, but he never used it because he was too scared to mess up in something you gave him; letters to those he’ll miss. he revises the one for his mother over and over again, crumpling paper like his lungs.

joshua doesn’t try to hide anything from seungcheol. he knows that his housemate’s blank expression means more than what he says. in fact, there is nothing said; their house is a place to rest and eat and nothing else. it’s as if there’s three ghosts, not just a single potential one. joshua sighs, wheezing out more petals. he grabs them hastily, making sure they don’t fall to the ground or worse, onto your letter. he carries them gently in his bloodied hands to the bathroom sink once again, the only companion he seems to have in the past few weeks.

joshua rinses each souvenir of his love one by one, clearing the dark red off before drying them and taking them back to the pile he’s made ever since this started. at first, they were hidden away in a small box on the corner of his desk, so no one would wander in and see them. now, he puts them on his nightstand haphazardly, the dark wood no longer visible under the various shades of yellow and red.

joshua picks up his pen—the expensive one his mom gifted him when he moved away so long ago; he never used it until now. the ink glides smoothly over the clean paper he had taken out earlier. he writes once again.

the only thing he knows how to say now is sorry. he writes it over and over again, signing each letter with the sounds he can barely make in real life, his voice hoarse from the damage done on his throat, and the lack of use.

maybe it’s time for something different? after all, this is for you, and he wants the news to be broken softly. he racks his head for something, anything that he finds good enough to become something real. he drinks the day-old water from the plastic bottle beside him, the familiar taste of blood accompanying it.

he glances at the clock he’s kept beside him since the start, and counts down two seconds; he has no time to waste.

he puts down the words he’s said so often to you that they’ve become a habit but seem to have changed ever since he started throwing up marigolds—a literal reminder of his unrequited love.

it’ll be a bit hard to be there for you when he’s dead, won’t it? joshua doesn’t mind. he never will.

he chuckles dryly, a whole flower falling out. he gets up and repeats his process for the petals before sitting back down.

joshua looks at his handiwork, pausing and adding a few more words before moving his paper to the side, and starting on another letter for his mother.

he stares blearily at the clock again, the red blinking numbers the only comfort he allows himself. it’s a new day.

joshua hopes it’ll finally be his last.

#dokries works #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #hong joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo scenarios #hong joshua imagines #hong jisoo imagines #hong joshua scenarios #hong jisoo angst #hong joshua angst #joshua x reader #joshua scenarios #joshua imagines #joshua angst

[hearts4golbach]

hello can you please write a Johnnie x fem reader smut but Jake walks in on us?<3

Fantasies.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warning: just filth bru, 18+ smut, unprotected sex (use protection), oral sex (f receiving)

you didn't expect yourself to be ending your night pinned against a counter top by Johnnie. sure, his bed, maybe even the shower, but definitely not the kitchen. embarrassingly enough, it was one of your fantasies. by accident, your boyfriend found that out and had been teasing you about it endlessly. so, you weren't necessarily surprised he took his chance. Jake and Carrington told the two of you they'd be out clubbing all night, and Johnnie decided to stay home with you. that's how you got to where you were in that moment.

you reached behind you, bracing yourself on the counter. your fingers dug into the rock as Johnnie placed his hands on either side of you, holding you against the counter. his lips were smashed against yours, teeth occasionally clashing. he needed you bad. almost as bad as you needed him. you bucked your hips forward, grinding against his clothed hard on.

“fuck,” he grunted, placing his hands under your ass and helping you hop up on top of the counter. excitement coursed through your body. you and Johnnie were always looking for ways to spice up sexual encounters. this was perfect. “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “prove it.” you purred, pulling him in again. his slender fingers snaked inside of the waist band of your shorts and pulled them off, tossing them on the floor next to the two of you. “fuck, Johnnie, please.”

he kissed down your neck, targeting your soft spot. he bit and sucked dark hickeys on your neck, which didn’t happen often. you two liked to keep your life in the ‘bedroom’ private. that’s how you could tell Johnnie was hella turned on tonight. he left your shirt on, even though he was kind of bummed out at the thought of not having access to your tits. he clawed at your panties, leaving sloppy kisses on your thighs as he pulled the lace number off of your body. he quickly placed a towel down under you to prevent from getting the counters dirty with your fluids.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he teased, “i didn’t know the thought of me fucking you in the kitchen turned you on this fucking much.” he smirked, wrapping his hands around your thighs and licking a stripe up your pussy.

you arched your back, one hand leaving the counter to tangle in his raven colored hair. his hair was already so messy, which you loved, but you wanted is messier. his hands moved to your lower back, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so he had better access. his tongue flicked your clit. a loud moan fell from your lips as you pleaded for him to give you more. “fuck, oh my god.”

“so needy tonight, love.” he murmured, looking up at you from between your legs. his eyes fluttered closed again as he began to lick up all of your juices. Johnnie knew how to use his tongue, that’s for sure. he went to town, lapping at your hole and clit. he made sure to pay attention to every part of your pussy.

his tongue teased your entrance before entering, licking around inside of you. you tried to praise him, but the only noises coming out of your mouth were moans. your eyes fluttered closed as well. you threw your head back, deep moans flowing out of your mouth.

he went back and sucked on your clit. your moans became more high pitched as you felt your climax approaching. your pussy was clenching around nothing as Johnnie attacked your pussy. he ate you like it was his last meal, and you loved it. he pulled away from your clit, making a popping noise as he stood up. you whimpered from the loss of friction. “Johnnie-“

he shushed you, dragging you off the counter. “turn around, baby.”

god, he knew how to talk to you. you did as he said, turning around and bending over the counter. you moved the towel, throwing it onto the ground with your discarded clothes. you arched your back, slightly wiggling to catch Johnnies attention.

“fuck,” he said for the millionth time. Johnnie felt as if he could never get enough of you. he gathered the mixture of his spit and your juices with two fingers, making you flinch at the sudden feeling. he spread the residue over his hard cock. he rubbed his tip through your folds, murmuring sweet praises through his staggered breaths. “you ready?”

“yes, please. i’m more than re-“ he cut you off as he slid inside of you, bottoming out. a loud moan escaped your lips as you felt him fill you up.

he gripped your hips tightly as he began to thrust. he started slow at first. quiet but needy moans came from both of you. you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling him stretch you out. his hands slid up your back, pushing you down onto the counter. your back arched, giving him a better angle. his tip hit your g-spot, making you whimper and moan out his name. Johnnie loved hearing you moan his name. he sped up his thrusts, his only goal in the moment to make you cum all over his cock.

“god, you feel so good. you’re doing amazing for me.” he also knew you loved whenever he praised you. Johnnie knew how to hit all of the right chords inside of you. you could’ve came just from what he said.

he sped up his pace, his thrusts relentless. your eyes rolled back in your head as you couldn’t help the noises coming from you. the sounds of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, but it didn’t help cover up the moans and grunts coming from you and Johnnie. “fuck, i’m so close, baby.” you informed him.

“oh, shit. fuck, sorry, guys.” you whipped your head around to see Jake covering his eyes and walking out of the room. “i’m leaving! i just needed my card.” he snickered from the other room.

you and Johnnie sat there stunned. it was another moment of silence before you and Johnnie broke out into laughter. “at least it wasn’t Carrington.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #johnnie guilbert smut #smut #hearts4golbach

[boinin]

Blue Lock Chapter 263

What a wild (and wordy) chapter. I have a few rambly thoughts on it.

Firstly, on translations - as someone who posts meta and likes sticking to canon in my fic writing, the official translation is the one I tend to share panels or quotes from. While I'll hold it's a better source for nuance, the consequence is some truly clunky dialogue choices. Karasu's trashtalking to Isagi suffered this week - the PO2 version on the right flows far better:

Getting called a "non-dunce shooter" isn't going to have Isagi rocking in the corner anytime soon, even if it better reflects the original Japanese.

On the flip side, the official translators went harder on the Kaisagi shipbaiting this week. While you could argue Isagi's only talking about the match, his line of thought is more distinctly about Kaiser in the official release...

The last example, I'm split on - the official translation made me laugh, but Kaiser squeezing an unnecessary f-bomb into his dialogue detracts from the sense of wonder at his transformation. Tracks with his habit of saying ex-fucking-cuse me though.

Either way: what a gorgeous panel.

The other things I liked? Rin continues to talk in childish terms about football. He'd mentioned before how he views other players as toys; this week, he's cranky that he hasn't had the ball in a while. Boo hoo!

Not to depress anyone, but who else bets Sae was really good at sharing the ball with Rin when they were kids? 🥲

The last panel sets up Kiyora to do something audacious next chapter, which I'm super hyped for. He's a loose canon with seemingly no loyalties, besides a grudge against Isagi, so I have no idea what to expect!

I enjoyed how they framed his appearance in the last panel. Beforehand, they show Isagi and Kaiser (loosely) co-operating, but we get a glance at some of the others too.

It lays out the dependencies really nicely:

Noa, the BM coach, monitoring his team evolving at a rate of knots...

Karasu, PXG's strategist, who earlier commented on how much of a beast BM has become and whose value as a MF is suffering because...

Shidou, despite already scoring, has been rendered completely ineffective by...

Kunigami, assigned to mark Shidou and performing more effectively than he did vs Ubers while in a defensive position. He links back to Noa as his so-called "vessel", but he's not embodying Noa's ego all that much right now. Another source of chaos and anticipation...

It's just really well-done visual storytelling, so I wanted to point it out.

Now we've got another week or so to ponder what Kiyora might bring to the storm 🔥

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock manga #blue lock analysis #bllk manga #bllk analysis #bllk chp 263 #karasu tabito #isagi yoichi #michael kaiser #itoshi rin #noel noa #shidou ryusei #kunigami rensuke #boinin talks bllk #long post #mine #blue lock manga spoilers #blue lock spoilers

[lesbianpraetor]

Extra Extra Initial thoughts about Furiosa now in bullet point format Summary the movie made me want to write several essays about George Miller's brain, but also I wish somebody had rained him in just a little bit. Spoilers Ahead!

-It was super obvious that George Miller was trying to expand images that he couldn't show in the first (fourth?) movie. Speciallyyyyyyyyy the History Men, Miss Giddy in Fury Road was a character by herself, but now the archetype is well and truly established with a very specific cosplaying Saruman in the desert with tattoos vibe. Also showing in detail the other two citadels, showing the green place, showing the absolutely vile way that the wretched live, going in depth with the war boys million other things as well. I personally loved it and the picaresque sense it gave the movie.

-The citadel looked soooooo similar to Fury Road it was eerie, since everything else looked so different. But I think it made an important point about stagnation and how the men at the top will keep killing the world for as long as they possibly can only even changing their methods when forced to.

-There's a whole extra movie in the vault about how exactly the wives that were there ended up disappearing. how the politics of it changed from women desperately trying to stay there to have the high life to five women deeply committed to their own liberation (with little Cheedo being the only detractor in retrospect when she is spooked by the wider world). I feel like there is a whole lit fic novel in there about them reaching a breaking point. Maybe a situation where Joe throws out all of them and only keeps the very very best because I counted a whole 11 woman in that vault, maybe the Wives from Fury Road are kidnapped all since wretched woman would not be able to give birth without any deformities? Is Angharad that inspiring? I don't think it's the first one because the fact that woman that chose to be there then decided they didn't want to live as things is much more powerful

-the other extra movie is how exactly Furiosa befriended the wives since she actually didn't spend that much time in the vault itself. I did feel it weakened my favourite reading of Fury Road a little bit, but oh well that always happens with new instalments.

-Talking about Furiosa I'm actually so deeply sad that they casted Anya Taylor Joy for this, not even because she did a bad job, although I think Young Furiosa did a much better job, but because I have watched Queens Gambit so many times that her mere presence made me think about the movie in Doylist terms. She also just seems too Holywood? I don't know there was something about her face that made me think that she was CGIed it was too smooth. Did she even shave her head? I felt Furiosa would not have let it grow out in between escaping the vault and joining the war rig crew, and don't tell me she couldn't, everyone else had short hair Praetor Jack had a nice salon haircut. But the acting itself was good! I actually think it was an effects and direction issue.

-Since we are talking about casting Chris Hemsworth did work for me and I'm questioning if I'm having internalized misogyny about him working better than Taylor. Maybe it was the copious amounts of beard, or that he wasn't the main character but I could really inmerse myself in his character and his parallels to not Furiosa, he was a fucking lying piece of shit about that, but to Immortan Joe. Can't quite articulate waht it was exactly but I think it hit whatever Miller was trying to hit with him. Although my favourite casting was the people I didn't know from anywhere, specially Mary Jo Bassa and the Biker Crew. Burn down the media establishment where we even see actors outside of their characters, it ruins the movies.

-Most viscerally hated character from that movie was the organic mechanic though, instant visceral disgust coupled with professional disdain at this point. You are trying to tell me you couldn't even try to steam the bleeding of the man's throat? you are trying to tell me you are giving birth on the floor like a fucking amateur? he probably didn't even know the anatomy necessary to start trying to close a neck wound. And it's cannon now that he didn't create either Immortan Joe's or Rictus breathing apparatus, because they already had them before the prisoner exchange. Absolute charlatan, no this has nothing to do with me still being pissed as hell as to how he treated Angharad what are you talking about? There's one man in the movie that instantly made me think in Watsonian terms I hate his guts so much.

-And in general I felt the hypocrisy of even the men trying to be kind to Furiosa much more keenly in this movie, which is to say that I did like Praetorian Jack as the pinnacle of the archetypical road warrior and parallels to Max are very interesting and I adored how it created even more parallels to Furiosa and Max's character development in the two movies. But, I don't know, there's something about how he carried himself with Furiosa that rubs me the wrong way I just can't quite place how, might need a rewatch. Anyway Furiosa's crush on him that honestly seemed pretty unrequited from his part was fun, although I hope people don't make it the most important part of the movie (it honestly reminding me of Cheedo and the Dag, they even had a similar was it a stolen kiss moment? but I digress, the parallels between him and Max were much more interesting)

-Back to the topic of the wives there was a moment in the beggining when Mary Jobasa didn't kill the woman who claimed to be a mother and then she betrayed her, which both shows the kind nature of the green place, how it really doesn't work like that in the wasteland and how exactly the vuvalini might have been so diminished in numbers. But my favourite part about this scene was when she said "I'm not to blame" that had to be on purpose because I wanted to shout at the screen " THEN WHO KILLED THE WORLD?" so bad. The fate of the world really hinges on the simplest choices since without that little bit of snitching they just get to go home.

-Honestly just Mary Jo Bassa appreciation, she died on the third day but damn what impressive three days. If I write fic it's going to be about her and Furiosa's other mother, who made the movie pass my personal Bechdel Test with the true purpose of the original Bechdel test, to woman talk to each other in a way that let's you see the Lesbianism in their eyes.

-The scenery of the green place definitely deserves a mention as well, it felt so tiny! it felt so different from everything else of course, they didn't linger to preserve both the runtime and the feeling of it being a place almost from Furiosas's dreams. But from space it felt tiny! the space shot of the outback with the most minuscle amount of green made it feel so deeply vulnerable, and the presence of the crows everywhere made me genuinely emotional. It did clearly have enough of everything to survive and for people to thrive and be super healthy, but it seemed like every millimeter was planned to the last detail to be of the best use.

-Honestly I think the relationship between Furiosa and her mother was the beating heart of the movie, I definitely liked the first third more than anything, it felt the most like something new and fully immersed not only in the setting of Fury road but honestly more of Road Warrior in way?, I don't know closest I got to crying was at Mary's death and her little good girl when furiosa killed a man to protect their home was the cutest most uwu part of the movie. Not to mention revenge of her death is the entire point of the final confrontation.

-Also I have to mention Mr. Norton. Mr. Norton I'm free on saturday for tying up to a motorcycle, I'm sure everything you did was totally justified and also super hot, thank you for your dirty rabid woman duties it was fucking awesome how you shot a man and the quartered your former boss.

-Last comment before I forget, that scene where Jack was killed had impressive Hector vibes. Tied to the back of the chariot while hounds eat you and disfigure your corpse? More to add fuel to the fire of George Miller adoring archetypical images, and I do too no complaints, it was gut-wrenching when I realized what was going to happen. The Horde in general had a mixture of Greek Charioteers and Mongol horde I really loved it.

-Also their first fight scene together where they work seamlessly together and then Furiosa threatens his life? classic crazy wasteland, you and Max really were identical. It also cements my idea that the movie is Fury Road backwards, since Max threatened Furiosa's life first and then they seamlessly worked together. I'll have to find where all the beats parallel and how they fit together, to see if I'm right.

In Conclusion honestly excellent movie, I didn't leave with the deep emotions Fury Road made but how much it's making me think about it is deeply appreciated.

#Mad Max #Furiosa #Furiosa Spoilers

[charliecuntcicle]

i wanted to do my own (much smaller lmao) version of the love letter to qsmpblr that everyones been doing

i took a massive break from twitch for a while from 2022-late 2023 so i didn't join the qsmp at the beginning. the first streams i caught were from purgatory 1 and you can guess how confusing that was lol. soulfire was my introduction to the qsmp which i guess is kind of poetic because thats mostly who i stuck with to this day.

tubbo has been my favorite guy to post about for the past couple months and as a tubbling since 2021 ill be continuing to follow him wherever he goes. ive been following charlie even longer so you can be sure ill be sticking with him too <3

i didn't start posting about qsmp for a while because at the time i was a purely dc comics focused blog so my first ever post tagged qsmp comes from december 26th 2023. so i havent been here as long as a lot of others rehbdsk

BUT even though i havent been here too long, i still have so so many positive experiences and i wanna acknowledge some key people who have made it super fun for me here

@qtubbo literally would not be here if it wasnt for you. you were one of the first if not THE first qsmp blogs i followed and your tubbo liveblogging saved me so many times as a pst tubbo viewer

@terezicaptor and @keirawantstocry THE GUYS EVER. i think youre the ppl on qsmpblr i interact with the most. oakley *grips you by the shoulders* you get it. you get it soooo bad. #toxictubblingstogether. and your art is sooo *chef kiss* jay your writing is amazing and you are so easy to talk to. your tina and quackity love is the realest thing ever. you both made me feel v welcome here and youre two of my fav moots so tyy <3

@ultra-raging-ghost the ghostie of all time. you are EVERYWHERE. i think youre secretly 5 ppl running 1 blog. you are insane in the most /pos way possible. could not ask for a better chat to be married to

@thesmpisonfire we have barely interacted but youre literally THE FUCKING GOAT for organizing language day and it would feel wrong to make an appreciation post without including you

@starriknight its always so so fun to see your name pop up 10 million times in my notifs <3 and getting to meet you properly and talk with you in the qsmpblr discord the past couple days has been wonderful

SPEAKING OF THE QSMPBLR DISCORD @sarcastictissy ty for making it and ty for staying so positive all the time its always really nice to see a positive spin on things <3

@tubborucho your post was the one that inspired me to make my version so ty ejcbhwdj and its always super fun to see you in my notifs

@qsmpbutwithsignlanguage its so nice to see another asl user here as i dont really get to meet many on the internet since its a visual language and youre always so kind ty <3

@royalarchivist THE FUCKING GOAAAATTTT!!!!!! i do not think you sleep but thank you for your service as the clip collector of all time

and im sure theres so many people im forgetting to mention but ty ty ty to everyone on here and everyone else on qsmpblr <3

#qsmp

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

There's Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

This is my first Gaz fic. I've just started uni break so I finally have the ability to write again, this idea grabbed me by the throat months ago and refuses to let go so I'm writing this instead of my millions of WIPS

Contains: Deadly levels of fluff, it's all fluff, I'm not sorry, this man is a puppy dog so don't blame me, hints at smut.

Song inspo (of course it's fucking Hozier)

1.4K Words

Gaz had never been so mesmerised by fabric before.

"You with us, man?" Price's words pulled him from his thoughts; Kyle hated his army functions, they were always so dull.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm thinking I should have given my ticket to my sister, at least she would be having fun."

Price chuckled. "Just get drunk, I know I am." Gaz sighed, for all their talk, once the gentry had finished their posturing and platitudes, they left the grunts to themselves.

Right on cue, Soap appeared with Simon in tow, their hands full of fancy glasses, and they settled beside their teammates. "I got this one for you Gaz, it's winter melon." It was comical to see Simon without his mask, a fancy drink in a tiny glass in his massive hand.

"Thanks man." It tasted like melon candy and a headache, but it was better than nothing.

"Is y/n coming?" Soap's tone was too almost too nutural.

Gaz nodded. "Yep, she'll be here soon."

Their table went quiet, and Price and Simon shared a look before Price turned to Gaz. "You gonna ask her to dance?"

Gaz blinked. "I don't know."

Simon cleared his throat. "Your arms are going to fall off it you keep carry that torch."

Gaz was going to refute him, tell Simon you were just friends but the tap of Soap's finger and a point towards the grand staircase stopped him. "Holy shit." He had never seen such a pretty shade of yellow, like you were wrapped in the fading sunlight of a spring afternoon.

You made a beeline for the group, stopping only to snatch a glass of bubbling champagne from a tray. "Hey."

Simon was the first to speak, twirling his thin drinking straw as if he were a cheap villain in an old movie. "Don't you look nice." He shoved Gaz in the shoulder. "Don't she look nice Kyle?"

His mouth was still agape, Soap and Price snickering from behind their drinks. "Yes, yes, you look lovely y/n."

You smiled. "Thank you Kyle." You paused for a moment, the poor man looked like he was going to keel over with nerves. "Will I be on your dance card tonight?"

He blinked. "Yep, yes, I would love to dance with you."

Simon, Price and Soap exchanged a look as Price hid his red face behind his glass; now was not the time to laugh at the poor man. "Wonderful, I need to go thank Kate for the invite." You turned to Price. "Please don't drink to much while I'm gone."

He chuckled. "You're off duty Doc, I can do what I want."

****

Kyle was a coward, a terrorist killing, war criminal hunting coward, or at least that's how he felt watching you awkwardly dance with a man old enough to be your father.

"He's an earl, you know?" His team had been taking turns for the last hour and Soap's Scottish lit had only grown stronger as he got drunker, your disapproving looks only served to spur him on. "You're going to lose your lady to an old earl." He snorted as you pulled away. "Wait, no, she doesn't like him much." He slapped Gaz on the back, and it was hard enough for him to shift from his spot. "Go on laddie, before someone else steps in, you did tell her you'd dance with her."

Gaz sighed and downed the rest of his whiskey. "Right.." His shoulders fell. "I don't fucking know how to waltz."

Soap chuckled. "You'll do fine, just don't step on her lovey shoes."

He took another deep breath and stepped out onto the dance floor, heading right to you with determination. But any confidence he had faded like a dying star when you flashed him a smile. "Kyle, I thought you'd run off."

He shook his head. "No, we haven't danced yet, and I want to do that, with you."

You did your best to hold back your giggle. "Is that you asking me to dance?"

He nodded and squared his shoulders, extending his hand like a Victorian gentleman. "Y/n, may I have this dance?"

You nodded and took his hand. "I would like that very much."

You stayed at the edge of the dance floor as the soft music continued, taking a deep breath before addressing the elephant in the room. "When are we going to talk about what's going on between us?"

He managed to hold back his flinch, the hint of upset in your voice was enough to make his chest sting. "Now's as good as any time I guess."

You huffed. "You guess? We spent weeks sitting with each other by Soap's bedside after Makarov shot him, then he finally checked out and you almost kissed me and now you're acting like nothing happened."

His eyes fell to the floor. "I know, I didn't know where to start. I didn't want to fuck things up."

You smiled softly and lifted a hand to his cheek. "You won't, don't worry."

The tension bled from his body as he resisted the urge to nuzzle into your palm. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded. "I would like that."

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours, before pulling you into a kiss. It was soft, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin as the other hand splayed across your lower back. His chest swelled, so this is what love felt like, like drowning in a roaring river, all the sound sucked from the air while he got pulled into the undertow.

He pulled away and slid his hand up your body, uncaring of the people standing around watching. "The hotel gave us a room for the night, something about throwing us a thank you breakfast, you wanna save the cab fair and come to stay with me tonight?"

You nodded. "That's very thoughtful of you Kyle, shall we go now?"

His face broke into a grin, and he looped his arm around your lower back. "I like your thinking."

You slowed as you walked by the rest of the 141. "Get it off your chests now, you've all got one minute exactly."

Simon was silent, and Soap was so drunk that he was just smiling like a madman, so Price was the one to add his two cents. "Just use protection, I'm too young to be grandfather." Kyle's eyes went wide, and Price broke out into a belly laugh. "Off you go kids, go have fun."

You pulled Kyle away by the arm and waved. "I won't forget this."

The elevator ride was smooth and quick, and you were in his room in a flash. His lips found yours again, and you leaned against the door. His fingers slid around your body to find the opening of your dress. "You need to unlace the corset sweetheart."

He took a deep breath. "Right." He moved behind you, his hands never leaving your skin as they reached the bottom of the dress where the bow was tied. It took him a while, but the dress slowly loosened, and he slid his hands upwards to slip the cap sleeves off your shoulders. You stepped out, and his head tilted; he was expecting lace underwear, not more skirts.

"It's called a petticoat, it makes the dress more puffy." You took his hand and brought it to the hook and loop closure, and he struggled for a moment before that, too, came free.

He stretched his hand out, softly pinching the short silk dress that covered your skin. "A chemise, my dear, it stops the corset boning from pressing against the skin."

He grabbed the hem with a soft smile. "Can I?"

You nodded. "Of course." He marvelled at the softness of the silk as it came off, and his breath caught in his chest as he took in your bare flesh. His fingers reach out, brushing your flesh with a gentleness that didn't seem possible for hands so calloused. You took his hand and placed it flat on your breast, and he seemed stuck dumb. "Are you alright Sweetheart?"

He nodded. "Oh, I'm fucking great. Shit, I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

You smiled. "Ok, you're very overdressed."

His dress greens were suddenly even tighter and scratchier and that was saying something. "Yes I am."

You reached up and slid the coat from his shoulder, placing it on the nearby chair before you turned your attention to his shirt buttons. "Ok then, I guess we should fix that."

He nodded. "You should." He grinned and kissed you again, deeper this time with a promise of things to come. "I love you y/n."

You sighed as your hands hit the hard, warm muscle of his torso. "I love you too Kyle."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @candy616 No idea if this is your thing so no pressure.

#call of duty mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #mw2 #mw3 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #fluff #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick fanfiction #kyle gaz garrick fanfic #cod #call of duty fanf #call of duty fanfiction

[carniv0reev]

There Goes My Mind.

yo let’s go my first ahs fic!! i hope you guys like it, trying my best with this one LOL. i’ve always wanted to write as Kai, he’s such a interesting character and i’m glad i could finally get a plot to do it with. idk if i really like this… also pls ignore any typos

It’s been a day after Kai found out that he had falsely accused Winter and took her life, his mental health had been drastically reducing for a while now. But this was definitely a shove into that darkness, a darkness in him that he does not recognize and sees it as something else. It will ultimately be his downfall.

it’s been a few weeks since i rewatched cult, so forgive me if anything is a bit off. and i’m going to be adding some headcannons into this fic to give kai some more character!

tags !! @coentinim @fear-is-truth @nahoyasboyfriend IF ANYONE ELSE WANTS A TAG PLS COMMENT AND LMK

Today felt like one of the longest in a while to Kai, he had locked himself in his room. Which was something he never did, he knew it was important for humans to stay social as they are a social species. But today Kai couldn’t find the energy to talk to anyone, he was trapped within his own head. He didn’t have space for anyone else.

Kai hated feeling this way, it made him feel weak and it frustrated him, only making him even more of a mess. He would try to tell himself that it was okay to feel this way, that it’s okay to cry. But that shadow in his head, that voice told him otherwise.

He sat on his bed staring at a mirror before him that was on the wall, his dark eyes full of guilt and grief. The house didn’t feel same without Winter in it, and it was all his fault.

That realization sunk in, Kai’s eyes stung and his vision grew blurry with tears.

“Fuck.” He hissed, letting his head fall into his hands. Kai was so tired of crying, he couldn’t stop, his emotions were overwhelming him.

For so long he put up this wall to push back these emotions to stay strong, to show his people they could depend on him. But walls can only withstand so much pressure, and Kai had cracked.

He could hear the laughter of his men down in the basement, but something else sounded within the house. Muffled crying. Kai sniffed and lifted his head from his hands, his face red from the pressure on his head by his hands.

As Kai tried to listen for it, everything went silent even the basement. The house stood silent, as if the world stopped. But there it was again, a woman weeping.

Kai stood to his feet quickly at the sound, on high alert he looked around the room then walked to his door.

Weep. Weep.

He knew whose voice it was, no one better. It was his sisters cries, coming from somewhere in the house. Kai hallucinated, but he didn’t see it as that. He saw it as a gift.

Kai opened the door and stepped into the hall, as he stepped outside and looked down the hallways they seemed to stretch on forever. A dizzying feeling struck him in the head, sending a wave of pain throughout his body. He inhaled sharply and placed a hand on his head, his beautiful blue locks now gone in an effort to prove his devotion.

There it was again, the weeping that put a pit in Kai’s stomach. But this time it was coming from his basement, he could pin point the gut wrenching sound this time.

Kai rushed down to the basement, throwing the door open and going down the stars. But there was no one there, not even his men which he could’ve sworn he had heard just minutes ago. He didn’t like that.

He came down the stairs and stood in the center of the basement, where he had went on many rants before. Where he had taken his sisters life.

“Did you do it?” A feminine voice rang out, breaking the agonizing silence of the basement.

Kai turned around and saw Winter standing right behind him, his dark eyes widened and he took a step back. There she was again, her beautiful gray hair and those dark eyes just like his.

“Winter.” He exclaimed, extending his arms to wrap them around her. But his arms met nothing, only bumping into his torso, Winter had disappeared. Kai’s face was painting with grief and confusion, he turned around and saw his sister sitting on the ground.

“Did you do what needed to be done?” She asked, looking up at her brother with her natural stone cold face.

His heart dropped with that sentence that escaped Winter’s mouth, his prideful shoulders suddenly dropped and Kai fell to his knees before Winter.

“Yes, I did.” He replied, his tone low and full of hurt. His throat felt like he had swallowed glass, it felt raw from the overwhelming emotions swirling through his head right now. Kai tried desperately to keep tears from forming.

“Well, I just hope you know none of it was worth it Kai.” She said with her natural brutally cold tone, Kai’s face pained with disbelief. “All this time you spend, trying to win everyone’s trust, praise, and approval. None of it’s worth it in the end, everyone will betray you.”

This slightly angered Kai, he was taken back by this. Why would his sister say that to him? How could she not trust him? He had everything under control! How dare she. His face angered but before he could say or do anything, Winter’s figure had changed within the blink of an eye.

Just a second she was sitting here before him, but now she was a rotting corpse laying on the floor. Flys crawling along her pale cold skin, her flesh bubbling with maggots crawling and eating underneath her skin. The smell of horrible rot filled his nostrils, but it didn’t last long as he blinked again hoping the horrible scene would go away. It did. Winter was gone, and Kai sat alone in his basement.

Everything was silent. Kai’s mind was swirling with all kinds of thoughts, out of all the people he saw none of them dared to doubt him in that way. They only fueled his insane mindset, but Winter didn’t this time. She had shown him reality, but he refused to see it or listen.

His head fell into his hands, his fingers gripping harshly on his temples.

“I will prevail, I will not fail you Winter.” Kai said, poison dripping from his words he stood and left the basement with a new found anger fueling him.

Oh how wrong he was.

#ahs fandom #ahs cult #kai anderson #ahs fic #carnivore’s writing #Spotify