#I'm always tired nowadays though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

getosbigballsack · 27 days

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Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again.

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch.

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son.

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug.

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves.

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face.

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity.

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed.

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see.

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.”

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him.

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered.

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you.

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.”

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue.

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest.

“I- I’ll do better.”

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said.

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks.

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle.

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.”

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face.

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.”

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #satoru smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 25 days

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😴😴😴 (to find later) AITA for putting sleeping pills in my boyfriend's drinks without him knowing?

I know this sounds absolutely awful, but please bear with me.

Basically, me (27 m) and my boyfriend (26 m) have been living together for around five years, meaning we usually also sleep together. Or at least we try, since my BF suffers from terrible insomnia and reoccurring nightmares so bad sometimes he wakes up into a full on anxiety attack. He does go to therapy and has prescribed sleeping pills, but he hates taking them because he's always afraid that when he does fall asleep he's just going to have nightmares, (which also just makes him avoid sleeping in general even not including his insomnia).

Usually I try to help him by staying up with him, watching his favorite show while cozied up on the couch under a bunch of blankets and with a hot coco, or we do something else that he likes and helps him relax. I really don't mind, I love him and I love spending time with him. However, it used to be that he would fall asleep at around 3-4 AM, but as time went on he started staying up longer and longer, until at a certain point I literally had to start leaving for work in the morning while he still hadn't gotten any sleep.

This was an issue for two reasons: 1. Obviously, without me there he felt even less comfortable and had an even harder time falling asleep, sometimes staying up for even 48 hours (or maybe more, I'm not sure) just to wait for me to come back home so I could help him unwind again. 2. He actually started lying to me about sleeping while I wasn't home, so that I would go to sleep normally and let him stay awake because "he wasn't tired" even though I could clearly tell he was.

That's when I started getting seriously concerned and questioning him about how much he actually sleeps, especially since I could see it was affecting him more and more both mentally and physically. He was avoidant about the topic but I pleaded with him to talk to his therapist about it, to try and find anything else to help him. Apparently his therapist just told him to keep using his sleeping pills to help with the insomnia, and if they're not working she'll look into prescribing him stronger ones. Yet despite that he still insists on not taking them and just going to bed normally even though it's clearly not working.

To clarify: as far as I'm aware, he has no negative side-effects from these sleeping pills, he's never complained about feeling any pain or feeling worse after taking them or anything like that. Literally he only doesn't want to take them because he's just that afraid of going to sleep.

That's why whenever we stay up nowadays, I always add a small dose to his cup of coco, which thankfully has a strong enough taste to cover the pills (I've tried a small bit myself and couldn't tell a difference). Since I started doing that, he's been regularly falling asleep before 2AM and even though the nightmares still sometimes wake him up or make him feel a bit tired in the morning, overall he's been doing much better.

Still, I do feel bad about putting stuff in his drinks without his knowledge even if it's for his own good. I really wonder if I should stop, but I'm really scared that if I do, he'll start spiralling again. I want to help him and be there for him but I've already tried talking about it and it never worked. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

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kinktober day four: voyeurism kink

>>> guys can you tell i have a choso fantasy or do i need to write another five thousand word fic to prove it i'm sobbing and actually in love with him fr. it took me days to write this bc i was just too feral.

>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: roommate choso, hung like a horse choso, virgin choso, voyeurism clearly, petnames, masturbation, cowgirl, implied multiple rounds, choso whimpers you're so welcome, choso smokes a blunt grow up >>> wc: 4.8k >>> event masterlist

this whole roommate ordeal seemed easy enough. you had a spare room in your condo, yuji had a spare brother that needed a place to stay after graduation. it worked out perfectly, as you weren’t too keen on having a rando move in. though the half-curse was little more than that, really. you had only come in contact with choso briefly, seeing him move through the halls of jujutsu tech in search of the very brother that recommended him to you. he was intimidating, tall and broad with a look of disinterest across his face every time you ran into him. yuji had told you that he wasn’t necessarily unfriendly, just unsure, so you were weary to approach him once he moved into the spare room. you didn’t want to overdo it, you would hate to make him uncomfortable with all these changes he was getting accustomed to. so for the first three months or so, you two would only exchange pleasantries and nod respectfully, two strangers sharing an address and lingering curious stares. then, one morning you offered to make him breakfast, and you two settled into a comfortable friendship after that.

Nowadays, nearly a year later, the living area was actually used and shared. you watched recommended shows together, introduced each other to your favorite movies, and oftentimes just sat in each other’s presence on the couch; on your phones, playing nintendo switch games, or passing choso’s best attempt at a blunt between you while shit talking your neighbors with your legs in his lap. you even encouraged him to invest in a real gaming setup, where he plays a host of different games for hours while you sit contently in the bean bag chair stationed nearby in his room, reading or crafting or just watching from time to time. the more comfortable he became, the more fun he was to be around. he was no longer shy to ask you to sit with him while he plays or to inquire about your latest book and his smiles and conversations flowed more freely.

he enjoys your presence. it’s easy to be around you. he wonders why. even with all the progress he had made with you, he was still terribly awkward around new people and his social battery was limited. he never got tired of hanging out with you though, in fact, he craves it always. yuji says that it’s because you’re pretty, which choso can’t disagree with, though his brother’s statement irritates him for no good reason.

he finds himself wondering if his brother knows you the way he does, silly things about you like which animal crossing character you would reincarnate as or the fact you hate grape flavored anything—it all tastes like cough syrup!--he can hear you say. no, he gets to see the real you, the one you reserve just for him. so yuji can think you’re pretty all he wants, but he’s the one who gets to see your breathtaking smiles in reaction to something he said.

“bro?! still there–or are you too busy being jealous?” yuji snickers, relishing in the match he made. he knew choso would wake up with a babe like you walking around.

“you’re a child. and a dick.” he huffs, aggravated by his spacey sibling’s acute sense of his feelings. “goodbye.” he taps to end their weekly gaming marathon facetime two hours short out of annoyance, confronted with the silence of his bedroom and his questioning thoughts about you. jealous? as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was. he couldn't even picture the thought of you being with someone else, try as he might. did that mean he wanted to be that person? your person? he’s so confused, but he knows even if he’s embarrassed he can talk to you about it. you could help him work through his feelings and come to a solution. even if the feelings were about you, he knows you would always be honest with him. he sighs, deciding to make his way to your room down the hall.

you two didn’t spend a lot of time apart now that the bond had been created, and you were more than alright with that routine, because on fridays, choso holed up in his room for five straight hours to facetime yuji and play video games giving you some much needed time to yourself. you always started with a long and intricate shower, doing all your different exfoliants and masks. then you’d touch up your nails and give yourself a total spa treatment, finishing up by putting on your cutest little panties and releasing some of the pent up sexual frustration for your roommate that you keep under lock and key for the same reasons you were hesitant to cross into friendship territory all those months ago: you don’t want to scare him away.

so you settle for your own small hands cupping your chest and pinching at your nipples, trying to picture him. It’s choso’s large and veiny hands that run down your sides and spread your legs instead of your own toying with your underwear. you can smell the versace eros cologne he wears wafting through your nose, almost able to hear his gravelly voice in your ear praising you for doing so good. it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to conjure the image of him sinking between your thighs, lust pooling in his violet eyes. you’re soaked already, feeling the fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt just at your active imagination. you peel them off, hissing as cold air blows across your middle, but your fingers quickly find the heat of your hole, gathering that natural lube to flick your clit with. your eyes are closed—whining helplessly already at the sensation you bring yourself with him in mind. it’s nowhere near the real deal, but the bliss is good enough to lull pants of his name from your mouth, body light as air.

choso doesn’t think anything of your closed door. you told him you keep it closed to let him have his space, not wanting him to feel like you’re watching or eavesdropping on him while he’s on the phone. especially as he got close enough to reach for your door handle, hearing you call his name. you sounded…strained? in all honesty he was worried. so he doesn’t hesitate to push the door open a bit, peeking to check. his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of you naked on your bed. you’re stunning. he’s seen pictures of other women—and yuji showed him a few websites—but your body was second to none. his hand flew to cover his immediate hard on, shocked you hadn’t noticed him yet. fuck, you are gorgeous, one hand squeezing at your breast, the other playing around in that squelching noise he hears between your legs. he fights the urge to moan aloud or announce his presence, and he’s ashamed of himself. he feels like he’s betraying your trust, but his dick keeps growing in his pants at the chants of his name spilling out of your lips. he watches as your legs jerk and your head falls back against your pillow, making him think you were almost done. he had to get out before you saw him or felt his unique energy so close to you. he’s panting as he shuts the door quietly, turning the knob just so it wouldn’t alert you.

his dick hurts as he makes it just one room down—the bathroom. perfect. he turns the shower on immediately, stripping his clothes off like they were on fire. he had set out to talk to you, to be completely honest about the thoughts he had been having, but seeing you like that did things to him words could not. he’s been horny before, of course, and dealt with that the way single human men do. but this—the desire coursing through his veins—this was different. so different. everything was clear now, he needed you. he stands with his back under the water, whimpering as his dick throbs to the mental image of your glistening pussy and blissed out face. he can’t help but close his fist around the his wide shaft, stuttering out a sigh in relief. he strokes himself to the same rhythm you moved your fingers, imagining how that pace would feel with your wet and warm cunt hugging him in instead of the rough surface of his hand. his other hand keeps him braced on the shower wall, steadying him through the searing heat the promises of your touch seem to be; to think that you were calling for him, thinking of him in the way he thinks of you now felt like a dream. he had to be hearing things, that’s the only excuse the man can summon. water beads down his biceps and chest, and it just makes his dirty deed all that much more so, fucking into his fist until his load is running down the side of the tub, the pearly beads getting swept away in the water and carried down the drain. he tosses his head back in the shower stream, his long black strands sticking to his face and neck as he tries to rinse away his shame.

that night, choso doesn’t come out of his room to watch a movie with you before bed. you pout, but try not to linger on it too long. maybe yuji took a lot out of him today, or they didn’t have a successful time on and he was moody. either way, you weren’t going to bother him. you hang out on the couch like usual with the hopes that he would emerge soon, but as your bedtime nears and everything remains still, you slink off to your room with a sour mood to end an otherwise normal day.

as the days pass, choso’s behavior gets weirder and weirder. it’s almost as if he’s completely reverted inside his shell he made when he moved in, only emerging to get food when he had hoped you weren’t around. the times in which he did inevitably run into you were dealt in nervous laughter and denials that anything was wrong with him. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was lying, hiding something from you even. you were slightly hurt that he didn’t trust you enough to talk to you, instead of going backwards and shutting you out. you wanted to wait it out, but as the days turned into a full week, you feared losing him altogether.

you stewed over the situation the entire time you were at work. you couldn’t even get anything accomplished because you were too preoccupied wondering what you had done to wound your connection. spending your days alone was maddening. a little over a year ago, you would have relished in the peace and quiet, but now it was unwelcome. you only wanted quiet if it was filled with the subtle sounds of pages turning or the buttons of a controller smashing or shared breathing during the climax of a show. this was haunting, and you knew you had to do something. you left work early, faking a stomach ache in order to get home and corner choso into relenting. no more miss nice roommate. you were tired of letting him be all weird and distant. so you walked in unceremoniously, not necessarily out to scare him. you shake your sandals off by the door and walk towards his room, noting that his door was actually open for once.

that was only because you weren’t supposed to be home for three and a half more hours, giving choso plenty of time to relive his dirty fantasies of you with the least amount of guilt possible, though he could barely look you in the eye these days. if you weren’t home, he could at least not worry about you catching him in his perverted acts, only dealing with the shame that flows in after he’s came for the millionth time to the image of your legs quivering and mouth parting in pleasure. he didn’t hear you sneak in–didn’t hear you shuffle down the hall to poke your head around the doorframe. he was dead to the outside world, his hips stuttering into his hand, thumb swiping the pre-cum that beaded there around his slit, stroking himself with whimpers of your name tumbling out, his eyes scrunched tight in concentration.

your jaw was on the floor, never in a million years imagining that he even knew how to touch himself like that, not to mention the prayers of your name on his tongue, mirroring the ones you make for him on fridays. he was massive, it had you covering your mouth in shock. even with his huge hand, it seemed like pumping himself was a tall task. you couldn’t imagine trying to do it yourself, you’re not even sure two hands would do the trick— you must have gasped aloud or something, because suddenly his head snaps toward where you stand in the doorway.

“y/n–you’re–” his dark eyes are wide, his lips parted in realization that you had really caught him jerking off and mewling your name like a helpless perv. as the guilt starts to creep in, the haze of need and desire clouds his mind. he never lets go of himself, all too aware of your lip between your teeth and your hardened nipples poking through your top—no, you shouldn’t be seeing this, you shouldn’t even be home yet! not to mention how ashamed you should be of your own roommate rutting into his hand.

“...i’m home.” you whisper back, a slight smirk creeping onto your face. despite the red blush spreading across his cheeks, he keeps fucking up into his hand. it’s salacious, and you can feel your body responding to the sight, unsurprisingly. you’ve been picturing him naked for months, and not even your lewd imagination gave him justice. every plane on his body was sculpted and defined, thick veins running down his arms and thighs and cock. he left his hair down, some of the strands tucked behind his ear, some of them hung over his brows and cheekbones. he gulped when he noticed your stare, your eyes locked on the thick cock in his hand, curved with an angry and needy tip.

“y/n, i’m so so sorr–” he scrambles to sit up, the heavy reality finally sinking in. he was awful, sick in the head, you were going to have him pack his shit immediately, and he’d have to tell all his friends why you had gotten rid of him.

“need some help?” you spit out, unable to tolerate the pounding in your chest and pussy. his eyes grow impossibly wider, blood rushing in his ears. did he understand you right? he couldn’t possibly.

“wh-what?” he sputtered, sitting up slightly to try and hide himself from view a bit, as if you hadn’t seen every bit of him already.

“i asked if you wanted my help. you were saying my name, weren’t you?” you tease gently, stepping further into his room, your hands innocently folded behind your back. now that you know your desire is shared, you felt confident enough to push your relationship further yet again. he nods hesitantly, watching you stalk over to the bed like a lioness about to pounce.

“i–yes, it’s not what you think. i know it looks–”

“like you were jacking off and thinking about me? is that not…what you were doing?” you hum, pausing by the foot of his bed. you look so cute, he has to believe you know what you’re doing, folding your arms under your voluptuous chest just to taunt him a bit more. you have him backed into a corner, and he either had to admit the truth or come up with a very clever lie. and he is not a gifted liar.

“i–yeah…” he looks away, feeling the shame weighing down on him now that you had confronted him with the undeniable truth.

you chuckle warmly. “i do the same thing, ‘cept I’m thinking of you.” you shrug, the smirk growing on your face as realization seeps into his. he didn’t misunderstand you that day or even earlier in this conversation. you want him too. he swallows thickly again, remembering the day that started all of this.

“i–i know, i saw you, last week.” he chokes out as you take your top off, revealing yourself to him. He’d noticed your lack of bra earlier, but didn’t expect to be blessed with the sight of your body again, especially as you bend at the hips to wiggle out of your pants. Your laughter surprises him again, like he had intentionally made a joke. but it was only because he had solved the mystery that led you to his room in the first place, and that would potentially resolve any secrets you had been keeping from one another.

“so that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” you scrunch your nose at him adorably as you crawl onto the bed, his eyes glued to the body that had him locked in his bedroom day and night. “oh choso, i wish you would have interrupted me…i surely woulda let you help me.” you purr, so close to him that he could reach out and touch you now, and he definitely thinks about just grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, finally feeling that glistening pussy for himself—to hell with his imagination, but your voice interrupts his thoughts again.

“so, do you want me to help you, baby?” you glance from the hard length in his hands to his deep purple eyes, swirling with something you recognize very well to be deep desire.

“please–” he whimpered and let his hand fall away from his pelvis, looking to you like a pathetic boy getting his teenage dreams fulfilled. Your grin grows wide, and you lean closer to brush your hand across his toned abdomen. he lets out a pleased little grunt and his cock jumps at the simple touch

“you’ve never been with anyone, have you?” you asked, faces so close he can see every freckle and dimple and scar on your skin. he shakes his head. you peck the tip of his nose. he’s already shivering, the feeling of your body leaning over his was exhilarating. your kiss was so simple and sweet, but it stopped all the thoughts in his brain. he was just malleable now, ready to let you make him feel good, finally shifting from imagination to reality. “need you to talk to me, so i can know where you’re at, cho.”

“no, no..never.” he shakes his head again, eying you with excitement and nerves all at once. he wants to touch you, and you’ve already stripped naked and kissed him, so surely there was no going back now, so he reaches up and places his hands on your hips—so light like he was afraid to hurt you.

you grin at both his answer and his courageous touch, nodding your encouragement, “that’s fine, i’ll help you…just do what feels natural–you can go as hard as you want., and tell me if you want to stop.” your eyes blink at him sweet he realizes he would trust you with his life if you asked.

“okay.” he lets your words wash over him, nodding as he grips your hips a little tighter. he’s more than embraced his fate, his mouth watering a bit at the idea that you were in his bed and offering to make all his fantasies come true. you were expecting him to keep that deer in a headlights look, but when you rake your fingernails across his chest, you watch his eyes darken a bit more. “kiss me?”

choso looks so cute, you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to. his eyebrow raised with innocence, but his eyes shrouded in arousal. you giggle softly and lean up, sliding your hands over his pecs and shoulders and into those dark locks calling your name. you tug, and he gasps softly. you take that opportunity to cover his parted lips with your own, his head falling back to accommodate you as you fully crawl into his lap. he melts, you feel and taste so impossibly good he’s concerned he may bust over the kiss. your tongue moves so expertly against his, twirling around and sucking on the muscle in a way he didn’t know people employed. then you’re sitting on his abs, and he can feel so much at once. his eyes blow wide in the kiss, and he has to pull away to gasp again and see what you’re doing to him.

you’re simply sitting, your pretty shining pussy rubbing against his core and his dick teasing the crack of your ass. that must be what’s driving him insane, the warmth and softness providing some but not enough friction. you wiggle your ass a bit to tease him, and he whimpers. the sound is so sweet and low you know you can’t handle playing with the shy little virgin much longer.

“i–is th–that sup’posed to f-feel that go–ngh, good?” he stammers, the hold on your hips bordering bruising. he doesn’t even realize, and you certainly don’t mind, so you only smile and nod down at him, reaching for his chin with your fingers. he makes you look so small without even trying, the broad expanse of his body, wide jaw and thick legs—not to mention the monstrous cock rocking against your behind, your own need soaking his happy trail to the skin beneath. you move his gaze from your sensual movements back to your sultry gaze. yuji was wrong. pretty was such a mild way to describe the woman on his lap. you were more a kin to a goddess, something not fully human like him.

“i was hoping to give you the full treatment, but i don’t think you’ll mind if i skip to the main event?” you bite your lip, your other hand scraping at his scalp a little bit. no, of course he didn’t mind. sometimes you were so silly. he nods fervently, remembering that he needed to find his voice, to not seem like such a coward when he wanted this so badly.

“no—please,” he whimpers again, feeling the drip of your liquid on him. it dawns on him then that you’re just as needy, and you still wanted him even though you’d have to teach him what to do. you didn’t seem worried, maybe it was easier than he thought. but all he knows is that his balls are starting to hurt and he had never felt more buzzed in his entire life, sensitive to every move you make. “i need you so bad, oh sh–”

you scoot back, lifting yourself up a little to align him with your entrance. his whimpers and begs were so fucking amazing, you wish you had it in you to milk it. you make the mental note to keep him begging when you show him what it feels like to have his dick sucked or whimpering when he eats your cunt for the first time. he’s so heavy in your hand, and you can’t even close your fist around him. it makes you shudder, knowing that you’re going to make him fit inside you no matter the stretch. his tip was so red and irritated, oozing pre. you swiped it over his head, humming in amusement as he jerks and whines at the feeling.

“you’re massive, d’you know that?” you pout, sinking down a few inches. he moans at first, feeling like his cock was fit into a perfect sleeve. it’s unreal, the heat he feels in his gut as you rock further down on him, whining at how huge he was. he watches the pained faces you make halfway down, the concern clear on his face. he didn’t know he was that big—he hadn’t really been comparing, but if it was hurting you, he wondered what he could do. he remembers watching you play with that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs, using your own slick to glide around. he thinks he could replicate that, so he sticks his fingers in his mouth, spitting a bit to make sure they were just as wet as you were. you take more of him, almost to his base all while panting and bracing yourself on his chest with your eyes screwed shut. he reaches toward you, swiping his fingers around the place he watched you toy with. you gasp out and sit all the way down, the noises you make as he touches you make his eyes widen again.

“god—i’m so full, baby.” you nod, your hips moving forward automatically, searching for more of that searing feeling he brings to your clit. he surprises you, moving his digits in slow circles as you get accustomed to his size. he chokes slightly when you squeeze him, his eyes zeroed in on your face.

“are you alright?” he asks softly, feeling your nails dig into his chest as your hips move faster now, any other words he had wanted to say sucked from his brain like he had no thoughts at all, nothing other than that vice-grip of a pussy you have locked around him, bouncing softly and leaving little half-moons in his skin.

“mhm, just had to stretch a bit t’fit you, are you alright?” you grin as you ask, knowing he would struggle to respond—in the best way possible. he nods eagerly, eyes flickering from where you swallow him up to your soft face of bliss.

“are you kidding? i’m—” you rock on him a bit faster, the feeling of wet and choking walls rubbing every possible spot had him sputtering, unable to speak. he’s only able to watch you run a hand through your mane, keeping it out of your face and away from your bouncing tits. he’s in heaven. being with a woman, no, being with you, was as all the eternal bliss he cared to know.

his hips start to move, the hold he has on your hips trailing up to the curves of your waist to better hold you down. he didn’t realize how much more intense he would make this feel for the both of you, grunts and whines spilling from his lips as you begin to cry out and yell. it’s heavenly, the way you let him drive into you, leaning forward with one hand on the headboard and the other tugging his head towards your chest. he contains his pathetic pants by sucking your nipple in his mouth, laving his tongue over it, mind so drunk and hazy he can only be driven by his primal instincts, flat footed on the bed to plow into you from below.

it’s so perfect. you scream his name way better than he ever imagined, and he doesn’t mind to bear the scratch marks of your passion. you keep squeezing around him, and it drives him crazy.

“i–i love when you do that—clenching down on me like that, fuck.” He grunts, slowly getting his knees under him while you sloppily keep the pace. he uses the leverage to ease you to your back, though you don’t have the luxury of pillows or a headboard, only the mattress beneath you as choso realizes this positioning lets him piston his hips without you having to do any work at all. you’re wailing, nodding to keep him from worrying about you as you continuously claw at his back and shoulders.

“choso baby—” you whine in such a way, he knows he’s going to bust in seconds. “you’re gonna make me cum, please–doin’ so good, ngh—ack!” you cry, legs tightening around his waist as he feels a significant increase of your fluids. feeling and watching you cum by his doing was the nail in the coffin—the way your face screwed up in pure pleasure brought him his own, his pelvis stilling against the mounds of your backside, cock twitching against your womb before your vision is blurry, and all you feel is warmth seeping out of you. his load leaked out around him inside you, his cock still pulsating with no signs of dying down.

he smiles at you a little shyly, his cheeks rosy and eyes hazy with the aftershocks of such a gripping orgasm. he watches your chest heave as you calm down, your eyes fluttering open and a smile spreading across your face as you look up at him.

“what do i do now? to take care of you?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the creases where your thighs meet your hips. you giggle and shake your head, knowing it would take multiple rounds for his erection to die down.

“i show you the full treatment now, baby.” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows.

choso found himself immersed in exploring himself and your body, discovering several new kinks to enjoy with his sweet little roommate turned lover.

#kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #choso x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #choso x voyeurism #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso

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foxcantswim · 6 months

Text

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Wing-Animatronic]

(gif by me)

You are hopelessly in love with Vanessa, Bonnie is starting to get sick and tired of you not doing anything about it. Content: Pre-Relationship, Love/Crush Confessions, Soft!Vanessa, BESTBOI!BONNIE Warnings: N/A WC: 1,672

This fic is so self-indulgent. What I would give to hug Bonnie. I think my soul would actually be healed.

"You know what I mean right?"

Bonnie blinked extremely slowly as he simply looked at you.

"Of course you don't," you leaned back into your chair with a groan.

You had been venting to Bonnie for the past few hours of your shift now, it was becoming a nightly occurrence where he would keep you company in the office (whether he liked it or not...)

"All I'm saying is. She's very attractive and way out of my league."

You were certain Bonnie was trying his hardest to roll his eyes as best he could.

"I'm right, though!" you tried to reason. All Bonnie did was give you a thumbs down in response.

You've had this huge crush (well, it was becoming much more than just a crush nowadays) on a certain blonde police officer you had met on your first night shift a couple months back. She had helped you get a grip on the tasks on your shifts and she had been more than happy to accompany you every other night whenever her own shifts allowed her. She'd always been extremely understandable whenever you opened up to her, she never failed to make you laugh with her stupid dad jokes and she was just overall incredible to be around. The silly playful flirting she had clearly done with you in the past was always welcome, but a part of you wasn't sure whether she meant for the flirtations to be romantic or if they were just jokes.

"You're not being very helpful right now, Bonnie."

He cocked is head at you as if to say 'Are you serious?'

"Come on! How do I successfully win Vanessa's heart?"

Of course he didn't reply.

"You know, if anyone were to walk in and see me talking to you like this they would think I was crazy."

As the hours went on you continued to moan and complain about how you'd never be able to impress Vanessa. About how someone like that could never love someone like you. You were effectively breaking your own heart and putting yourself down. Your hand had been fiddling with a pen for the past couple hours, scribbling various hearts on the back of some paperwork. The name 'Vanessa' was in the middle of said hearts.

You were acting like a love sick teenager with their first crush. You shook your head to snap yourself out of it.

Bonnie took a step away, intending to leave the room.

"Hey! Don't leave me alone when I'm stressed!" you whined.

Bonnie stayed.

Why couldn't it have been Freddy, Chica or Foxy? Why him? Why did he have to listen to all this?

The first few nights he thought it was somewhat interesting and cute to hear you talk about your feelings towards Vanessa. But that interest quickly turned into annoyance after about a week. He liked Vanessa. And he liked you. So of course he wanted to help you in any way he could.

The alarm on your watch finally rang. 6am.

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to turn the monitors off.

"Well... Thanks, Bon. I appreciate you listening. I promise I'll make a move on her. Maybe..." you muttered the last part, clearly not trusting yourself.

You stood up from the desk and grabbed your jacket and keys. You left the office and waved towards the other animatronics before you finally exited the pizzeria.

Bonnie had stayed back in the office, simply waiting for you to leave. His eyes soon locked onto the desk... More specifically the old paperwork on the desk you had left.

The following night, Vanessa had showed up just as you started your shift. She had followed you into the pizzeria, greeting the animatronics as she did.

"I told you to clean up that mess, Y/N!" Vanessa rolled her eyes as she headed over to a nearby closet to grab a mop. She had wanted you to clean up the mess that Chica and Foxy had made last night. They had knocked over a couple glasses of drinks as they ran throughout the pizzeria.

You shrugged, "I'm lucky you love me enough to clean it up for me," you smirked before walking off towards the office, intending to turn the monitors on.

Vanessa rolled her eyes to herself, however a soft smile appeared on her face at your words. She found the mop before turning back towards the mess, however she wasn't expecting to bump into something.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Sorry, Bonnie. Didn't see you there."

He blinked at her before raising a hand.

Vanessa look down at his outstretched hand, she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

In Bonnie's palm there was a piece of paper. Vanessa cautiously eyed it. In the centre of the page there was a messily scribbled heart with the name 'Vanessa' right in the centre.

She let out a quiet laugh, "Aw, thanks. I love you too, big guy," she patted his arm in thanks. She took the mop and headed over towards the mess. She didn't quite see when Bonnie started to shake his head in disagreement. He desperately wanted to tell her that it was in fact you who had drawn that heart. Not him.

The absolute annoyance and stress he was feeling right now...

Bonnie wasted no time in trudging towards the office.

"Hey, Bonnie," you greeted him with a smile as he entered.

He grabbed your arm, quite forcefully, and began to pull you towards the door.

"What's gotten into you?" you asked in confusion.

His other hand moved towards your face, giving you a clear view of a very familiar piece of paper.

"You want me to do that now?!"

He nodded slightly.

"I-I can't Bonnie. It's not the right time. She doesn't like me the same way I like her," you looked down in defeat.

He nodded again, trying to encourage you.

Vanessa cleared her throat, trying to get yours and Bonnie's attention.

You both looked towards the doorway.

"Everything all right in here?" she said, a slight smile in her face at the strange scene she was looking at. She noticed Bonnie holding up the paper directly in front of your face... Your face which was now slowly being covered by a bright blush.

The cogs in the blonde's brain were turning as she desperately tried to work out what was going on.

"Yep!" you squeaked, "Perfectly normal interaction we are having right now," you tried to pull away from Bonnie's strong grip.

Bonnie shook his head frantically. He raised his hand towards Vanessa, showing her the piece of paper again.

"Y-Yeah. You already showed me that buddy-"

He stomped his foot, narrowing his eyes. He then brought the paper back towards you and then back in Vanessa's direction. Over and over, trying to convey what he was meaning.

"Shut up right now, Bonnie," you warned him.

Vanessa felt her mouth go dry as a blush of her own covered her cheeks.

"Y/N..." her voice was soft, immediately making your heartbeat increase, "I don't want to jump to any conclusions here but... Is Bonnie trying to say that you drew that? Not him?"

Great. Now Vanessa was going to think you were an idiot. An idiot who acted like a lovesick obsessed puppy.

"It's stupid, Nessy," you muttered, finally ripping your arm away from Bonnie's grasp. You looked away out of embarrassment before heading over to your chair and plopping down in it.

Vanessa sighed before stepping closer to Bonnie, his hand slowly outstretched towards her. She grabbed the paper and couldn't help but smile down it at it.

"Thanks, buddy," she said before moving towards you.

Bonnie nodded before slowly exiting the room.

"Y/N," she said, turned your chair to face her, "It's not stupid."

"Yes it is," you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, "Can we just forget about this and-"

She giggled, placing the paper on the desk, "It's not stupid. It's cute. It's cute that you have a crush."

"It's so embarrassing, Vanessa," you felt slightly hurt by her mocking you.

Rolling her eyes, Vanessa picked up a pen, "Would it make you feel better if I did the same thing?"

You raised an eyebrow at her, curious as to what she meant. That's when she reached for the paper, and drew her own heart underneath the one you had drawn... Your name was soon in the centre of it.

"You gettin' the picture yet?" she said, hoping you would understand that yes... the feelings were definitely mutual.

You weren't entirely sure on what to say, you simply stared at the paper on the desk.

Vanessa threw the pen down, before cocking her head towards you, "So yes or no?"

"Y-Yes or no?" you questioned.

"How about you let me take you on a date the next time you're off shift?"

This was a dream. It had to be. There was no way this beautiful woman was asking you out on a date right now.

"Need me to repeat myself-?"

"No!" you exclaimed, "I-I mean yes, I mean-"

Vanessa laughed again, "Cute," she muttered before leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, "I guess I'll be seeing you at the end of the week."

You froze in your chair at the contact.

"Y-Yeah. I'll see you at the end of the week."

Gods, that day could not come soon enough.

The next night, you had hugged Bonnie tightly. His huge hands had patted you on the back in comfort.

He strutted around the pizzeria, gloating at the fact that he was the best wing-animatronic to ever exist. At the end of the day, he was thankful that you confided and vented to him.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore

#fnaf #fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf bonnie #fnaf fanfic

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dallaji · 5 months

Note

can you do bada lee smut, where bada wants to film while 🤟🏻 with reader HEHE i'm gonna leave the others to u:*

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

WORD COUNT: 5k

CW: exactly what it sounds like tbh!! established relationship, porn without plot, once again giver!bada, filming 🔞 (consensually)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is loosely a part two of this / "Hope we make it to the Cloud". i received these two requests and felt they were alike enough to "combine" the two, hopefully that's ok! 🩷 thanks for the request and hope you enjoy. (ꈍ꒳ꈍ) ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Living alone wasn’t so bad.

When spending a long month performing, interacting with hundreds of people every day and flitting from one schedule to the other, getting to wind down in the comforts of your humble apartment almost felt like a privilege. And as soon as your promotions had ended, you had to take the time to get reacquainted with the place that you called home; time spent away, sleeping in cars or planes, almost made you forget what it felt like to have your own bed.

Sometimes you felt pangs of loneliness, when you were no longer experiencing the rush of backstage and the fleeting interactions with other celebrities, some of whom you now considered friends. The feeling was especially present when you were on break, fighting the urge to get a pet to keep you company on several occasions. Though calling it a “break” was a bit premature, your team always surprising with a last minute schedule on your calendar.

Still, living alone wasn’t so bad when you finally got a break from bright stage lights, sore limbs and buzzing eardrums.

Besides, you aren't so lonely nowadays.

It was the middle of the day and you were watching a game show, feet propped up on the table and hair tied together, when you heard your front door unlock.

“Honey, I’m home,” A tired voice sounded.

Tossing the spare key you had given her a few weeks prior into the little bowl on the table next to the door, Bada entered the room with the nonchalance only a person who spent a lot of time here could have. And well, she did spend a lot of time here.

As you beamed up at her from your seat, Bada was kicking her shoes off: donned in her practice cargos and a comfortable sweater, she looked as effortlessly attractive as ever. If you didn’t know her well enough by now, you would’ve almost missed the metaphorical thunder cloud hanging over her head.

You patted your lap eagerly. “C’mere!”

And with quick shuffling footsteps, Bada made a beeline for where you were seated, first dropping her backpack to the floor with a sigh and then unceremoniously flopping onto the couch, her head snuggling into your lap.

Your hands immediately caressed along her face, fingers gently pushing her bangs aside as you ran them through the pink streaks.

“Long day?” You asked as you fanned her hair over your lap, combing through and detangling the knots.

Her eyes were shut, zoning in on your soothing touches. “Maybe I need a manager,” She muttered quietly, “I don’t know why I thought three choreo sessions in one day would be doable.”

You placed your forefinger between her eyebrows, smoothing over the frown that had started to form there. “Try not to hire mine. Before you know it, three sessions become six.”

Bada laughed at that, eyes opening to gaze up at you affectionately. “Missed you.” She mumbled, head turning to nuzzle into the palm of your hand.

“Is that so?”

She sat up slowly upon hearing your playful words, turning to face you with half-lidded eyes. Leaning in, gaze dropping to your lips, she placed her hand atop your thigh and gave it a firm, meaningful squeeze. “Want me to show you how much I missed you?”

You held your breath expectantly, leaning closer with a barely-there nod as Bada inched towards you to close the gap; she tilted her head and your eyes fluttered shut.

But then, the growling of a stomach sounded through the room.

Bada groaned as you erupted into giggles, shoving her off of you: “Please go eat! There’s some leftover rice and salmon in the kitchen.”

Her disgruntlement faded immediately at your words and she swept down to press a peck to your lips. “You’re the best.”

“I know...” You hummed against her mouth, tugging her down again to steal seconds, feeling self-satisfied when Bada complied without hesitation.

You let her scurry off to the kitchen with a smitten grin plastered across your face.

“Did you finish the routine for that boy group?” You asked, watching her scavenge with your chin propped on the palm of your hand.

Bada dug into the rice cooker as she nodded, already chewing on a piece of salmon: “Yeah, it came together nicely! Wanna see?”

Clasping your hands together, you perked up. “Yes, please!”

“Laptop’s in my bag. All my recent recordings should be on it.”

Bending over to unzip her backpack, you carefully pulled her laptop out and set it on your lap. You heard Bada heat up the remaining salmon as you booted up the computer. Her password was just her birthday, which she had sheepishly confessed to when you were still practicing your choreography together. As you opened her files, a screen popping up with over fifty recordings, Bada came to stand behind you, shoveling food into her mouth as if the bowl would sprout legs and run away from her.

You scrolled through the recordings, which were arranged chronologically, until you noticed a thumbnail with a very familiar practice room.

As your mouth fell open in disbelief, your mouse hovered over the picture of what was undoubtedly Bada hunched over you in front of your practice room’s mirror; both your backs turned to the camera, but the scene all too recognizable.

You didn’t know why, but you felt your lower stomach warm up at the thought of her having kept the recording. You barely registered the audible gasp behind you, and you turned around.

Bada was frozen in her tracks, chopsticks motionless at her lips as she stared at the laptop on your lap.

“Oh my god, I—” She began, eyes searching the room for a place to set her bowl down as your eyes scrutinized her, “I could’ve sworn I deleted that! How did that— How did that get on my laptop?” She was stumbling over her words, and always had been a terrible liar.

You wordlessly navigated to the top of the screen and clicked on ‘Sort by last opened’, the videos reorganizing at your command.

The video was the third one on the list, even though it was over two months old. Once again your stomach curled, face heating up at the implication spread out in front of you.

Bada pressed her lips together in a fine line, face beet red as she was unable to meet your eyes, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil and instead cowering away from you. “I’m sorry, you— you can delete it. I shouldn’t have—”

“I never told you to delete it, back then.” You cut in hurriedly, and it was true, but you felt embarrassed at the words leaving your mouth all the same. “You’ve watched it?”

Bada stared at you in bewilderment, but she nodded, perhaps comforted by your words and thus no longer seeing the point in lying: “Several times.” She admitted bashfully, gaze moving back to the laptop.

You felt lightheaded, briefly imagining Bada alone in her studio with her hand between her legs and her eyes glued to the screen.

“Oh,” You responded, “Why didn’t you...?” Unsure of how you were even trying to finish that sentence, you trailed off.

“We’ve just been so busy…” She said, sounding solemn, leaning over the backrest of the couch as her arms draped themselves over your shoulders. You leaned back into her embrace, your hands curling over her arms.

It was true: between a grueling comeback schedule and the heightening demand for Bada, especially following the release of your single, made it difficult to see each other regularly. Bada had visited you backstage a handful of times, the both of you savoring your short moments together, hungry lips meeting while hiding away in your dressing room, until you were inevitably whisked away for your next schedule. Similarly, you dropped by her studio whenever there was an opening on your calendar, but the curious eyes of her students made it difficult to do much of anything. It was then when you had given her a spare key to your apartment, hoping you could meet each other halfway more often.

“I miss you so much.” She murmured, cheek resting against your temple, and the way she said it left you breathless. It had a hidden meaning to it, clear to no one but you. It almost sounded like a plea with the way she nosed into you.

“You were gonna show me how much you missed me.” You whispered, angling your head to look up at her properly. Her eyes were already on you, gaze heavy. You didn’t have to say the words back to her with the way you looked at her.

She barely gave you a moment to let the words hang in the air before she pressed her lips against yours with a desperate inhale, hand curling over the crook of your neck. The position you were in brought you right back to your first time together; Bada crowding over you with an insatiableness she only reserved for you as your mouths fit together, her warmth washing over you. You felt her nails scrape along the nape of your neck, her lips parting against yours, pleading, as you slipped your tongue past. She hummed pleasantly, lips closing around the wet muscle and sucking as her fingers dug into your hair.

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need of wanting her all over you, the couch separating your body from the comfort of her lean figure, you parted the kiss unwillingly. Before you could beg her for anything more, however, she moved her lips to your neck; immediately sucking a bruise against the unmarked skin. You gasped, instinctively baring your neck for her.

“Bada-” You began, but the words died in your throat as the tip of her tongue circled the mark.

“Click on the video.” She spoke in a hushed voice and only then did you become cognizant of the laptop resting on your lap, cursor still hovering over the video. “Fast forward a bit.”

With your eyes locked onto the screen and without moving your head, afraid you would lose the warmth of her mouth against your skin, you did as you were told; skipping through the recording until you found the exact moment Bada had turned you around, her chest pressed against your back. The sounds that came from the laptop speakers after you unpaused the video were sinful: the smack of lips gliding together and your quiet gasps as Bada smoothened her hands along your figure. You were feeling overwhelmed already and the two of you had barely done anything.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bada spoke as she watched the video from over your shoulder, still pressing soft kisses against your neck.

You could say the same about her with the way she was, and still is, able to command your body like an instrument. You were putty in her hands then and now, turning whichever way she conducted you.

She straightened her back slightly, looking down at you as her hands lowered to your front. In tandem with the Bada in the video, she found the hem of your shirt and pulled upwards, your arms raising to aid the process. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the cool air of the room made a shiver run down your spine. Bada, however, was delighted, warm hands immediately cupping over your breasts.

You craned your neck, chasing after her lips and she let you indulge: with your head tilted backwards your tongues met before your lips did, Bada angling her head to deepen the kiss impossibly more, fingers pinching your nipples inquisitively and stiffening them. You were sensitive straightaway, gasping into her mouth.

Then, an idea. Your fingers managed to find the space button and pressed, effectively pausing the video. Bada parted the kiss reluctantly, curiously peeking at the screen before looking down at you.

“Do you have your camera with you?” You asked, voice breathless.

She blinked at you in wonder but nodded: “Yes, in my backpack.”

You gave her a suggestive look, hands coming up to rest atop hers; still covering your breasts. “Do you… want to film a new one?”

You hoped you hadn’t misjudged Bada, and for the few seconds she was silent you feared you had ruined the atmosphere, but that feeling didn’t last long. The look she gave you was nothing short of infatuated.

Bada smiled, albeit entirely flustered, before giving you another kiss and you sighed in relief. She walked to her backpack, where it still laid on the floor, and began searching through it for the camera. As you shut the laptop and moved it off your lap, Bada reemerged with the familiar device.

The display was already flipped open, Bada’s fingers fiddling with the buttons with an almost childlike excitement that made you giggle. She looked up at you as if breaking out of a daze, and softened instantly at the sight of you: topless and patiently waiting for her. She lowered the device.

“You’re certain you’re okay with this?” Her eyes looked into yours, searching for any hints of doubt or apprehension.

“More than okay,” you assured, “Just tell me what to do.”

And as soon as the words had left you, Bada hit record. “Be you.”

She slowly walked around you, angling the camera as her eyes were glued to her display, taking in your appearance with the delicacy of someone who practiced this often enough in their head. You were starting to feel skittish, despite her attention on you almost feeling reverent, and fought the urge to cover yourself up.

Instead you crossed your legs, head tilting to the side as you looked straight into the lens of the camera: “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to keep your distance the whole time.”

You heard the buzzing sound of the lens zooming in on you, though you had no clue what exact part of you it was focusing on. “That would be impossible when you look like this, baby.”

The nickname, which was usually reserved for when the two of you spent time tangled up in each other, visibly flustered you. You sucked in your lower lip to hide a growing smile and glanced down, Bada smirking at your reaction.

“Trying to set the scene for my future self.” Bada added meaningfully, and the implication made you feel warm.

She strode over towards you, eyes still focused on the camera display as she sat down on the table in front of you. You followed her movements intently, anticipating whatever request was burning on her lips. But instead of asking anything of you, Bada wordlessly nudged her knees in between your thighs, forcing your legs apart, and you adhered.

“Take your pants off.” She commanded and virtually immediately your hands dropped to the waistband of your trousers, tugging it below your hips. You would have time to ponder how embarrassing your submission to her was later, but for now you wanted to give her everything she asked for.

With her unoccupied hand she helped you pull the fabric all the way off, with an almost impatient tug, and you made sure to stretch your legs as elegantly as possible, doe eyes never losing track of the lens; hyper aware of the camera following your every move as if this were just another music video recording.

You let your hands slide up your thighs, fingers momentarily hooking into the straps of your panties before snapping them against your skin. Bada angled her camera, tracking the movements of your hands intently as her tongue peeked past her lips; wetting them. The palms of your hands moved along the curve of your waist, trailing them higher and higher, until you were pushing your breasts together ever-so-slightly. Then, you brought one hand behind your neck and leaned back into the couch. Your other hand dropped back to the strap of your panties, toying with the fabric between your fingertips, granting a sneak peek for the skin underneath - not that there was much more left to the imagination.

For a moment Bada’s eyes moved away from the display, zoning in on your ministrations, and then she leaned back herself, the movements forcing your thighs further apart by the dull push of her knees against yours.

“You’re a natural.” Bada said teasingly, but remained cemented in her spot, much to your frustration.

You pulled the strap of your underwear below your hip, blinking up at the lens through long eyelashes, and pressed your crotch down into the couch. Subsequently, you slid your hand to your front, fingertips digging below the waistband of your panties; your eyes never losing track of the lens. You went lower and lower, gauging the taller girl’s reaction.

Once again you heard the noise of the lens zooming in, and your fingers finally found the top of your heat. You were already wet, spreading your folds with a quiet hum, and began lightly rocking against the fabric of the couch. The friction made you gasp, the thrill of your predicament making you feel increasingly more responsive to any touches.

Bada parted her lips, watching on in awe. “Take those off.” Her voice was almost uncharacteristically deep, dripping with want.

And because you knew her well enough to know she couldn’t hold off for much longer, you gave her the most coy look you could muster and answered: “Come do it yourself.”

The sound of the table moving backwards echoed through the living room, Bada using her body to push it away. You didn’t cease your movements however, dragging your crotch against the couch again as you watched Bada in anticipation. She had placed the camera on top of a stack of books lying on the table, pointing the lens at you in a sideways angle, and stepped towards you. She towered over you before pulling her sweater over her head, and you watched as her slender frame appeared; still touching yourself. She was unbelievably pretty.

Then, she dropped to her knees, arms hooking under your legs as she pulled you to the edge of the couch in such a sudden motion you couldn’t help the soft yelp that fell from your lips. Her thumbs hooked under the straps of your underwear and pulled them off brusquely, leaving you completely bare in front of her.

She settled in between your thighs like she belonged there and leaned up, her hand on the side of your neck as she brought you in for a hungry kiss. The noise you made was desperate, but she silenced it immediately by plunging her tongue into your mouth; licking into it with a groan. Your fingers tangled into her hair, clinging onto her as your body begged for more, tongue gliding back against hers through parted lips.

Bada cupped your jaw tightly as she swallowed the sweet noises you made, and parted the kiss to catch her breath; your own chest rising in exhilaration. Her thumb trailed along your bottom lip, moist from saliva, and pulled it down: “Just look pretty for me.” She muttered.

With that she slid down your body, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck and to your cleavage, her hands feeling along the shape of your upper thighs, squeezing them. You felt your lower stomach curl when her lips pressed to your navel, and you put your arms at either side of your body; palms pressing into the couch as you gave your body away to her.

Her thumbs pressed into your hip bones when her mouth got closer to your core, but she immediately pivoted to the inside of your thigh, teeth grazing the skin before parted lips began to suck down a bruise.

Your head lolled to the side, letting out another soft gasp as her lips covered every area except the one where you needed her the most. You were going mad, wondering if you should start begging.

Her eyes met yours and she had the audacity to smile, a happy glow dusting her cheeks as her fingers dug deeper into the skin of your thighs. She pressed another openmouthed kiss near your hip bone before speaking: “Anything you want me to do?”

Your hand automatically moved in between your legs, but Bada stopped you with a firm hold on your wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, “I’m directing here. Tell me what you want.” Her gaze was intense, smile growing wider as you grew more flustered, thighs twitching.

“I—” You began, struggling to find the words, “I want you to touch me. However you want.”

“However I want?” She tilted her head to the side, feigning confusion in a sweet voice.

“With your hands.” You added quickly, something in you stirring at the way her grip on your wrist remained resolute. “Please, I need it so bad.” More words escaped you before you could dwell on the humiliation: “I’m so wet for you.”

The look in Bada’s eyes darkened as she placed your hand back onto the couch, grabbing onto your thigh once again. She looked down at your glistening heat, momentarily sucking in her lower lips before meeting your eyes again. “For me?” She asked again, knowing the answer well enough.

“Only for you.” You near whimpered, and she finally released you from your misery.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she lapped at her fingers before promptly lowering it to your vagina; spit-slicked fingers moving along your folds to spread your wetness with a purpose as her other hand held down your thigh, making sure you kept your legs apart for her. A groan of relief escaped you before you could realize and you bit down on your lower lip, feeling her explore. You heard her suck in a breath between her teeth as you glistened underneath her, marveling.

You felt yourself get impossibly more wet from her touch, and Bada immediately took advantage of that. She started to rub against you in slow, circular motions as your hips involuntarily jerked from the sensitivity. With a soothing shush, her grip on your thigh tightened as she let her fingers dig into your folds with more pressure, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“I’m starting to think you like begging.” Bada whispered longingly, fingers that knew exactly where to be circling against you with a deepening pace.

Unable and unwilling to answer, you brought a hand up to your mouth and pushed two fingers past your lips; you sucked around them, muffling your moans. The look Bada gave you was simply ravenous, and you then realized you were here to put on a show for her camera. Her thumb brushed down against your clit, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure, the ministration sending electric shocks across your lower belly as you were unable to stop your hips from rutting into her touch. You withdrew your fingers from your mouth and brought them to your breast, rolling your nipple under them.

You heard the taller girl cuss between your thighs, her fingers dropping lower as she followed the noises you made; spurring you on. Then, you felt her forefinger catch at your entrance, drawing circles around and all you could do was hold your breath.

Bada sank a finger into you, slow enough that the burn wasn’t overwhelming you, but you moaned all the same. She tentatively crooked her finger inside of you, intently watching your reactions, the grip she had on your thigh almost bruising. She began pumping her finger in and out of you, not too fast but fast enough to have you gasp her name, rewarding every honeyed moan with a curl of her finger.

“More…” You begged, toes curling.

“Yeah?” She whispered, pressing a kiss right where your inner thigh and core met before handing you exactly what you wished for.

Her middle finger pushed into you along with her index finger, and this time you felt the stretch more acutely. You audibly keened, nails digging into the fabric of the couch as she scissored her fingers inside of you, whispering soft praises encouraging you.

“That’s it, baby, let me make you feel good.”

Soon enough the burn was barely present, making way for an electrifying bundle of pleasure running up your spine. You rocked into her touch as much as Bada’s iron grip on you allowed, and she met you halfway, fingers pumping in and out of you at a steadily building pace.

The way she looked up at you was maddening: somewhere between wondrous amazement and self-satisfied smugness, drinking in every second of the way you opened up to her in more ways than one. She gave a sharp curl of her fingers, and your thighs twitched dangerously. Bada caught on immediately and began moving her fingers inside you in a come-hither motion, pulling every sweet noise from you that she could. You thrusted down harder, mouth agape as you zoned in on the ecstasy that overtook you.

“Third finger, baby girl.” And you somehow found a way to part your thighs almost impossibly further, your body eager to receive more.

While her two fingers were still curling inside you, the third one joined, and you choked on a moan. This time Bada didn’t give you time to get used to the stretch, as all three fingers curled inside you over and over again.

Feeling overwhelmed almost instantaneously, hushed cusses spilling from your mouth, you inadvertently wriggled backwards; but Bada immediately pulled you back, keeping you locked in place as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. She knew your body too well, because soon enough you had your head thrown back and thrusted back into her motions, her long fingers finding the spot to curl into.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She mumbled, and before you knew it her mouth was on you, tongue digging between your folds as she continued pumping her wrist.

With her arm still curled around your thigh, she brought you closer to the edge of the couch; she wanted to dig in. Her name came out as a yelp as her lips closed around your bundle of nerves, sucking harshly as her moans began to reverberate against you. You brought a hand to the back of her head, fingers digging against her scalp as you held her in place, needing unfathomably more from her. Anything she was willing to give.

She swallowed around you so eagerly, so greedily, and then her hand let go of your thigh: she brought it between her own legs instead, fingers digging into her trousers.

You had to force yourself to look away or you would orgasm right then and there, feeling your eyes roll back instead. She was touching herself, rocking into her own hand as her mouth bobbed against you; her other hand still fucking into you. She was getting off to getting you off.

You thought you were going insane, only able to give into your instincts and rock into her movements, all the while pulling on her hair which she seemed to relish in: the both of you building up to a pace where she pushed in exactly as you thrusted. You felt your toes curl again as that familiar pressure in your lower stomach began building up, and your head lolled to the side. You were a sweaty, writhing mess, and Bada was moaning against you so loudly it made you lightheaded.

You noticed her own movements getting messier, too. Her wrist circled against herself as she slurped around you, and you brushed her bangs from her forehead to watch her own desperation overcome her. She curled her fingers inside of you again just as she sucked down on your clit, and you could've sworn you saw stars.

“Bada, I—” You began, warningly, as you fucked back against her, chasing after the uncoiling of your lower stomach.

Bada hummed encouragingly, nodding against you in a frenzied state herself and crooked her fingers sharply, beckoning you to let yourself go.

Something about the way she gasped and moaned against you, yet still remained so dedicated to give you exactly what you wanted, is what did it for you. You felt your orgasm ripple through you so sharply you felt dizzy. You clutched onto Bada’s head between your thighs as you shook all over, her fingers curling into you harshly as she sucked on your clit through your implosion, until you felt her tremble against you too.

She fell forward, teeth pressing down on the inside of your thigh as she came with your name on her lips, rutting into her hand. You moaned, sensitive all over but running your hands through her hair soothingly, nails caressing along her scalp.

The both of you stayed like that for a solid minute, catching your breaths, until Bada leaned up on her trembling knees; far enough to wrap her arms around your waist and lean up for a tender kiss. Completely smitten, you kissed back despite the heaving of your chest and you wordlessly urged her to get on the couch with you. The taller girl obliged, immediately climbing on top of you and nuzzling into your hold with a tired smile, her cheek pressed against your collarbones.

The both of you giggled at nothing in particular, your fingers tracing delicate lines along the side of her face.

As if experiencing a déjà vu, your eyes went to the camera perched on the table, inevitably recording, but the both of you too spent to do anything about it.

“You know,” you began, fingertips still absentmindedly caressing along Bada’s jawline, “You’re gonna need a better password for your laptop.”

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee smut #dalla!writes #requests #ask

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elryuse · 7 months

Text

IMPREGNATING MY ROOMATE

SOHEE X MALE READER

TAGS : Noona, Naughty, Roomate, Dirty talk, Impregnation, Creampie

You were just working on some of your unfinished projects before finally finishing it just right about the deadline. Being a college student is not an easy task, just like what you think it would be. In reality it's fucking tiring.

But there is always someone who would brighten up your day. She is none other than your doorstep roomate named Sohee. Even though she is older than you, you always felt like your chemistry with her is just amazing. She always cared for you, and maybe that's why you always think of her as an older sister figure.

But lately, You started to feel something that you can't understand. Something more than just an older sister figure type of love. Not to mention the way she started to dress nowadays is getting more and more revealing than usual. But knowing that you don't want to ruin this beautiful relationship, you tried to keep it away for now.

Finally you went back to your room after finishing the torture amount of work. But what you didn't expect was Sohee standing in the kitchen cooking some delicious food. She was wearing a tight and small grey colored Calvin Klein Crop Top. With some tight training pants as well. It perfectly fits her petite body and she just looks gorgeous tonight.

"Y/n....come on... I made some 김치 찌개 (Kimchi Jigae) ".

"Wahh daebak... Thank you so much Sohee Noona".

" *chukle* Of course... Come sit here... I'll get the Rice ready".

You were totally not expecting this tonight. Sohee would usually buy some delivery food instead. Not to mention her drinking habits as well. I mean last night, she'll get 2 boxes of fried chicken and a whole box of beer. You'll probably think that she'll never finish all of them. But boy you're wrong. And what's left from that was a drunken Sohee.

"I made this because you already helped me a lot last night.... I was so fricking drunk... :cc".

"Aww that's okay Noona.. This is too much.. But thank youu".

" *chukle* No I really mean it. I always loved your company Y/n... It means a lot to me.. Having someone like you".

"T-thanks Noona".

"Well go on then Enjoy the food".

"Alright then... 잘 먹었습니다 (Thanks for the meal) Noona".

"So how is it? Is it much to your liking"?

"Noona.. This is so fucking good. If some guy decided to marry you... I bet he'll get to eat this delicious meal every day".

" *chukle* Aww that's sweet... But what if that guy is you"?

Hearing that statement you immediately spat out some of your drinks in your mouth. Earning a huge laugh from Sohee.

"Noonaa you can't joke around like that".

"Ahahhaha it's just funny Seeing you like that".

"Ughhh fine fine... But look.. The floor is wett 😭".

"Just like me".

"Eh"??

Sohee immediately laught it off, saying it was nothing. But deep down... You kinda feel something was off. Not to mention the way her legs are slowly rubbing your own leg underneath the dining table.

"Don't you want to have a girlfriend Y/n"?

"W-well.. I-i do... It's just.. ".

"Just what"?

"I haven't really found someone that is interested in me".

"Aww that's sad.. What a poor baby :c *pout* ".

"Noona stop doing that".

"Stop doing what? You don't like it"?

"N-no.. It's not that... But".

"But what"?

Sohee immediately stood up from her chair. Before walking slowly towards you. Her eyes were filled with lust and glimmer of hope. She then wrapped her hand all over your broad shoulders before quietly and carefully whispered something on your ear.

"I want to fuck you so bad Y/n... And I know you want to do the same. So why don't we make love... ".

"N-noona"??

" *chukle* Come on now... I'll be gentle on you... Noona will take care of you so don't you worry ".

" *gulp* O-okay".

"Really.. You'll do it with me"?

"Y-yes.. I-i love you a lot Noona. I'm just scared of actually telling you about my feelings. I'm scared that you might reject me and we'll be like strangers. I-i don't want that".

"Awww my poor baby... I'm sorry to make you think like that... But don't worry. I'll give you a proper reward for being a good boy... Come here and lay with me on the bed".

With a swift motion her strong arms immediately took you away. She embraced you in a tight hug before smiling at you. She then carried you to the large room before laying down on the soft and squishy bed.

"Don't just stare at me dummy... *chukle* Fuck me".

" *gulp* ".

Hearing that, Your cock immediately started to grow bigger and bigger. As if Sohee have given you a magic spell that instantly makes you Fucking horny. She then helps you remove a piece of your clothes and your pants. She gasped and admired how big your cock was. Sohee smiles before she starts to remove her own piece of clothing.

She started by removing her tight training pants, revealing a white and silky smooth thighs. She can't help but to giggle to your reaction. Piece by piece was removed making her crop top the only thing hanging around. But before she removes that, she asks you a question.

"So if we finally do this. Would you be interested to be mine Y/n"?

"Is that even a question Noona? The answer is definitely Yes.. I've loved you all this time. You've been so good to me... And I-i just can't find another girl that is like you.. ".

"Mmmhm.. Hearing that makes me really really happy.. And because of that.. I'm gonna reward you with something special".

Sohee finally released the tension that is holding her big mounts. The last piece of clothing is finally removed. Her big and perky breasts are what's left. She shyly closed her face before laughing about how awkward this situation is. But you returned the favour by kissing her on the lips. Which suprises her at first. But after a few seconds she finally understood and started to kiss you back.

The kiss was so hot and so sexy. Sohee was very skilled compared to your own. The way she sucked your tounge and started to play with the roof of your mouth was undeniably hot. Not long after that you finally released from the kiss, Earning a small gasp and moan from Sohee.

"More.. Kiss me more.. Baby".

"I will Noona... But I want to do something else".

"Mhmm.. And what would you want"?

You immediately grab her perky breast before admiring them, grasping them as if your life depends on it. After playing around with her breast, you decided that her tits were looking so delicious. So without any hesitation you immediately suck it. Sohee immediately moans.

"Fuck... Aghh.. Mmm".

"Mhmm".

"Don't stop baby... Don't stop... Aghh".

You continue sucking her tits while she playfully gen on top of your crotch before she starts to ride you slowly. The pleasure was immaculate and all you want to do from that point is to do this every fucking day.. All you want to do is to hear her moan after moan.

You finally stop sucking cause now your cock could barely hold it any longer. Sohee knows this and immediately puts your cock inside her warm and wet mouth. The immediate pressure was strong as if your cock was being vacuumed. She gives you a deepthroat and starts to make sensual sounds while looking at you with so much lust.

She smiles before finally releasing your cock from her wet mouth. Using this to her advantage, She immediately prepared herself to put your cock deep inside her pussy. Slowly but surely the length started to shorten inch by inch before finally the whole thing was inside.

"FUCKKKKK AHHHH... SHIT.. IT'S SO DEEPP MHMM".

"N-noona aghh.. You're so tight".

"Mhmmm *moan* I know.. This pussy has been waiting for so long...".

"Fuck fuck fuckkk".

" *moans* Fuck me harder baby... Fuck me like you want to breed me... Fill me up baby.. Breed this Woman of yours".

"Fuck fuck *moans* ".

You immediately did what she asked and started thrusting as hard as you can. You both were screaming in pleasure as the sound of two meat started to clap, indicating a perfect harmony between your bodies. Sohee moans were filling your ears, Immediately enchanting you to immediately give her what she wants. And that is to be your woman and to be pregnant with your baby batter.

After you were about to cum, You immediately told her that you're close. She tells you the same, And before you can cum inside her. Her legs were locking you in a missionary position, to ensure that the insemination rate would be higher.

"I'm close Noona... Fuck... I'm gonna cum".

"Inside me... Cum inside me... I want it.. I want to be pregnant.. I want to be your Woman".

"Fuck fuck fuck".

And just like that ribbon after ribbons of cum were shot deep inside her womb. Your seed immediately found ways to inseminate her eggs as both you and sohee fall to a tight embrace kissing and enjoying the rest of your life together.

You were bleesed with 2 Children. One boy and One girl. Sohee was so happy after hearing the news that she was pregnant, She can't imagine that her long last dreams were coming true and that she is now married to her beloved Y/n.

~ The End ~

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #sexy content #beautiful #kpop smut #sohee #alice sohee #sohee smut #apreciation post

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ginnsbaker · 28 days

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)

Part summary: With Leigh, it feels like for every step forward, you end up taking two steps back.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.600+ | Warnings Some angst, het stuff | A/N: Texts in italic indicate they happened in the past. We get an insight about R's past with Matt and a little surprise at the end.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Next part

You'd hardly expect to meet a decent guy on the street nowadays.

Though, to be fair, it's less about meeting him and more about running straight into him. At the moment, you don't give it much thought. You distinctly remember wincing from the impact, feeling solid muscle and jutting bones, and a surge of irritation bubbles up inside you because you're not exactly having the best day. But then, the man you ran into looks up, and his face is all apologies.

He looks like he might cry if you don't forgive him, so you do. As you stand there, trying to process the situation, he notices the coffee spilled all over the floor—your coffee, which has now created a sad, dark puddle around your feet.

“Can I buy you another coffee?”

Despite the kind gesture, you find yourself shaking your head, more keen on changing out of your coffee-stained coat than sticking around any longer.

From a few steps away, his impatient friend calls out, “Are you coming, Matt?”

“Yeah, just wait a sec,” Matt responds, his attention still on you. You usually don’t trust men running into you without an agenda, but there’s something about him that tells you he didn’t mean to, and that he’s more than willing to make up for it.

“No, thanks. I got it…”

He looks unnecessarily worried as he leans in a bit closer. “You sure about that?” he asks.

His brown eyes are the friendliest pair you’ve seen in a while. And being essentially alone in this new town, they pull you in like gravity.

“Y-Yes. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you stammer, attempting to stabilize your shaky legs.

“Matt!”

Matt nods hesitantly, then mumbles, “Sorry, I have to go. Again, I'm really sorry,” before his gaze releases you, and you feel its force that held you in a vice-like grip easing away.

As you're walking away, you keep having to tell yourself not to look over your shoulder, even though every part of you kind of wants to.

You guess you must be really lonely, to cling onto the first bit of kindness someone throws your way.

Your deliberate attempts to bump into Leigh finally pay off one brisk Friday morning. But it’s not in the way you’ve imagined it would go.

The town is just waking up, the chill in the air biting at your cheeks as you take your routine jog through the quiet streets. You've discovered that running suits you better than yoga, mainly because it's something you can do solo, and you've always leaned towards activities where you can be by yourself. You’re tired, but you try to lift your knees higher with every stride, keeping your cadence in check.

Turning a corner, a sudden commotion catches your attention. A group of rowdy teenagers barrel down the sidewalk, loud and oblivious to anything but their own world. One of them, a bit too caught up in the fun, nearly crashes into you, forcing you to swerve unexpectedly.

In your effort to dodge, you step right into the path of Leigh Shaw.

It all happens too fast; there's no chance for either of you to do anything else. You crash into each other, the impact sending a jolt through your bodies. You tumble sideways, your arm shooting out instinctively, breaking your fall and softening the impact as you land. Leigh lets out a sharp yelp as she staggers forward from the force of the collision, a look of shock quickly spreading across her face. As she falls, her knee scrapes against the rough concrete, and when she finally sits up, there's a noticeable gash, bleeding freely.

“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” you blurt out, horrified at the sight. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

She grimaces, glancing at her knee, then back at you. “Well, I've definitely been better,” she says, trying to keep her voice light despite the pain. You give her a hand up, and as she leans on you for support, you can't help but notice she's dressed in denim shorts, a blue parka, and flip-flops—not exactly the attire for a morning jog. The sun's just starting to show its face, and you're left wondering where she's headed so early, if she's not out for a run or something.

Looking around, you notice the roll-up shutters of nearby establishments are still down, indicating they won't be opening anytime soon. It’s apparent that there's nowhere immediate to find help or a first-aid kit. You scratch the back of your neck, an awkward idea coming to you.

“I don’t think there’s nowhere we can ask for help,” you start, trying not to sound too anxious about what you’re about to suggest. “I've got a first-aid kit at my place, though. It's not far. We could fix you up there, if you're okay with it?”

Leigh takes a beat, and then gives you a nod. “I guess that's my best option right now. Lead the way.”

As you start walking, Leigh instinctively grabs your arm for support. Your foot have barely hit the pavement when she suddenly grips tighter, fingers clawing into your arm as she lets out a hiss of pain. The wound must have stretched as she bent her knee to take a step, and with the way she's limping, you realize making her walk is a bad call.

“Shit, I'm really sorry,” you apologize again, the situation dawning on you. This isn't at all how you wanted to run into Leigh again, especially after trying to find a way to reconnect since the dinner in her car. “Let me get an Uber.”

Leigh starts to object, but you're already pulling out your phone. The last thing you wanted was for your attempt to help to end up hurting her more.

“So, where were you headed earlier?” you ask casually, hoping not to pry too much. “Doesn't seem like you were out for a run like I was.”

Leigh’s injury is more severe than you first thought; after hitting a rough patch on the pavement, her knee took the brunt of the fall. The skin is scraped away in several places, revealing angry, reddened flesh beneath.

“Grocery, or something,” Leigh mumbles, distracted and wincing a bit as you ready another dab of antiseptic for her knee. The moment the cotton touches the wound, she can't help but jerk away slightly.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur, soothingly, noticing she's struggling to stay still. To help steady her, you gently hold onto her calf, and that's when you feel your cheeks start to warm up. “I'll be as quick as I can,” you promise, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I’m okay. You're doing...fine,” Leigh sighs between clenched teeth, obviously trying to downplay her discomfort.

You know you're not fine, certainly not in the way Leigh means. All you can hear is yours and Leigh’s breathing, and your heart stuttering in your chest, because despite barely seeing Leigh in recent weeks, this annoying little crush won’t go away. It’s weird enough that she’s Matt’s wife, and you can't shake the feeling that you’re probably the last person she’d ever look at that way. Not to mention, you're not even sure if she's into women.

Once you’re done cleaning her wound, you carefully wrap a bandage around her knee. Then, you head to the fridge to grab some ice, noticing Leigh's puzzled look when you return.

“What’s that for?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“I have a feeling you're going to have a bone bruise after that fall,” you explain, handing her the ice wrapped in a cloth. “This should help with the pain and keep the swelling down.”

She accepts it, a small smile of gratitude on her face as she says, “Thanks.”

“No problem, it's my fault anyway.”

“It was an accident,” Leigh points out.

An accident that, if I'm being honest with myself, I was somewhat hoping for, you reflect with regret.

Leigh looks relieved as she presses the ice against her knee, eyes closing for a moment. With the immediate pain taken care of, you can't help but wonder again where she was headed earlier as you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge to whip up some breakfast.

“Hope you're hungry,” you say, flashing a smile as you fire up the stove.

“I'm fine, really,” she says, but the moment the bacon starts sizzling, she caves. “Actually, I could eat.”

With your back to her, you could smirk all you want at her change of heart. After frying up the bacon and eggs, you pull out some leftover rice and begin chopping garlic.

“What are you making?” Leigh asks suddenly from behind you.

“This is something I picked up on my travels through Southeast Asia,” you share as you cook. “Can't do bacon and eggs without it anymore. But I'll get some toast going for you.”

Leigh's face lights up, almost childlike. “Toast sounds great.”

You and Leigh settle into your meal, you with your plate of garlic rice, bacon, and eggs, and Leigh with her toast done just right alongside her bacon and eggs. She surprises you by complimenting how you cooked the eggs, noticing they're slightly burnt to a crisp around the edges.

“I've never had my eggs quite like this before,” she says.

“Oh, that?” you chuckle. “Learned the technique by accident some time ago. Got distracted and ended up leaving them on the heat a bit too long.”

She laughs too, and soon enough, you're both just talking like old friends, the conversation breezy and effortless. You begin to get a real sense of Leigh's sense of humor and it complements yours in the best way. Leigh loops back to when you mentioned visiting Southeast Asia, and you're more than happy to share your experiences, considering she's never left the country.

“...I’m pretty sure Hawaii counts, right? With the weather and everything, plus it’s really far—”

You’re still cracking up over some joke she made moments ago, and now you’re wondering if you’ll ever stop.

“No way, Leigh, it doesn’t work like that!” you get out between laughs, holding onto your stomach as you shake with laughter.

The more you talk, the more Leigh hangs on every word, making you feel surprisingly at ease. Sharing stories about places you've been and things you've seen becomes less about bragging and more about just sharing your adventures with someone who’s really listening. It's kind of refreshing, actually, feeling this free to dive into your memories with someone so interested.

That is until the topic eventually shifts to your fitness routine. It's then that Leigh offhandedly mentions, “You'll probably see more progress with the new instructor next week. I heard she’s got a certificate and all.”

You pause, fork paused mid-air. “New instructor? You’re not leading the class next week?”

Leigh simply shakes her head no.

“Then, when are you coming back?”

Leigh takes a breath before saying, “I actually quit.”

Hearing her say she’s left the studio nearly makes you spit out your breakfast. You're halfway through a bite, trying to wrap your head around the news, when suddenly, Leigh checks her phone. Before you can even dive into a million questions about why she quit, she's saying she needs to head home.

Your thoughts are spinning, but you don’t miss the opportunity to offer her a ride.

“You drive?” Leigh looks surprised.

“Yeah, just got the car this weekend,” you manage to say, still reeling from the shock that Leigh won't be at Beautiful Beast anymore.

“Are you sure? I can just call a cab,” Leigh mutters, probably noticing you're a bit out of it.

“No, really, I insist,” you say. Making her walk on that knee seems like the last thing you should do.

Leigh tries to brush it off once more, “Again, an accident.”

You ignore her, grabbing your keys from a dusty fishbowl. “Doesn't mean I won't be kicking myself over it.”

She lets out a sigh, and you can't quite tell if she's resigned or just annoyed.

As you pull up in front of Leigh's house for the first time, you're immediately taken in by its typical three-bedroom layout. The lawn, however, looks like it hasn't seen a mower in quite some time, giving the place a lived-in, somewhat neglected feel. You quickly get out of the car to help Leigh to the front step.

Then, out of nowhere, Leigh curses, patting down her pockets in a panic. “Fuck, I forgot my keys.”

“But someone should be home, right?” you ask.

Leigh rings the doorbell, her expression turning sour. “Yeah, my sister,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled at the prospect.

You're taken aback when, a few seconds later, it's Jules from the studio who opens the door. The sharp look they exchange isn't lost on you; it's clear there's more to the story than just Leigh coming home without her keys. You're gearing up to say goodbye, assuming Leigh will head inside, but instead, she turns to you and says, “Wait right here.”

You do as she says, glancing at the ground, shuffling your feet back and forth.

“Hi, I'm Jules, Leigh's sister. I've seen you around at Beautiful Beast. You're one of Leigh's clients?” Jules smiles at you, politely offering a hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself in return. Watching her face, you see the moment she puts it all together.

“Oh, you're the vet who Matt had—I'm sorry. It's just, I wasn't expecting to see you here, helping Leigh home.”

You knew where that first sentence was going, but you're silently thankful Jules decided to pull back and not finish it. You force a smile as you explain how you got here. “She was out for groceries, and I kind of ran into her, leading to a bit of a fall, and now—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Jules cuts in sharply.

“Sorry?”

“Leigh didn't come home last night,” she says. But before you have a chance to process this new information, Leigh returns, clutching a fifty-dollar bill.

“For the trouble,” she tells you, getting in front of Jules.

You attempt to wave it off. “Hey, you don't have to do that—”

But Leigh isn't taking no for an answer, she presses the bill into your hand. You never see it coming what happens next: she plants a quick peck on your cheek, effectively shutting down any further protests. The spot where her lips brushed against your skin tingles, and it’s all you can think about for a moment. Without waiting for you to react properly, Leigh starts herding Jules back inside the house, throwing over her shoulder a quick, “Thanks again, Y/N. Bye.”

You're left there, holding the bill in one hand, touching your cheek with the other, and staring at the closed door, suddenly very aware of how little you actually know about what's going on in Leigh's life.

Suzie shoots you that knowing look again as you head out of the clinic decked out in your active gear.

This time, a blush creeps up on your cheeks, memories of your chat with her about someone “making those sweat sessions worth it” floating back, and you try your best not to let your thoughts drift to Leigh. But then it hits you that she won't be there. Despite your dedication, the sheer excitement of going to the studio isn't quite what it used to be without her as your instructor.

Just as Suzie is about to lock up, the door bursts open. A man rushes in, cradling a small dog in his arms, panic written all over his face. He explains, breathless, that his pet is struggling with labor.

Suzie looks back at you. “I could call Foreman for this,” she says, already reaching for her phone. You stand there for a second, deliberating. Leigh won't be at the class; she's no longer at the Beautiful Beast.

Then, making up your mind, you hold out a hand to stop Suzie. “No, there’s no need. I've got this.”

It feels like you've just walked into one of those old-timey romantic movies, where chivalry isn’t dead and everything turns out way better than you could've ever hoped. In hindsight, it’s better. Because it’s real, and you're right in the middle of it, living a dream you didn't even know you had, with the kind of guy you thought only existed in those movies.

The night air is cool and light, brushing against your skin as the car slows to a stop in front of your apartment. To say the least, it's been an unexpected evening for a first date, and easily one of the best.

As Matt pulls up to your building, he turns to you, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. “Well, here we are,” he says, as if surprised you've arrived so soon.

You don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. So you stay put in the passenger seat, doing your best to draw out the last strands of the evening.

“So, Nick was the mastermind behind all this?” you tease, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two.

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... I had no clue he asked for your number until he handed it to me and said, ‘You owe me one’.”

“He’s the perfect wingman, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” Matt agrees, smiling. “I didn't tell him about my interest in you, but Nick knew anyway. He's good at reading people, always has been.”

“I see,” you say, your gaze following the contours of his cheeks, which carry a soft pink blush. It could be from the red wine you both enjoyed at dinner, or, you find yourself hoping, it might be because of you. “Well, he has my thanks. I really thought he was the one interested in me though.”

Matt laughs, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “No, it was always me. Since the moment I, uh, ran into you.”

There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, tacitly acknowledging the serendipity of it all—the accidental meeting that could've ended with a simple apology and nothing more.

Yet here you are.

“You know, I'm glad it was you,” you profess, feeling a boldness that usually isn't there.

Matt breaks into a huge grin, but it's really in his eyes where you can see just how happy your remark has made him.

“Would you... maybe want to do this again? Without the running into each other part, I mean,” he says softly.

You laugh, nodding. “I'd like that. Just maybe start with coffee next time. And no spilling.”

“Deal,” he says, his grin infectious.

As you step out of the car, a proposition forms in your mind and you backtrack.

“Would you like to get that coffee now?”

Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming about your memories with Matt, particularly the part Leigh interrogated you about. Even though you stuck to the facts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were somehow deceiving her.

You wonder if this is why you haven't been able to sleep for days. That, coupled with the fact that you've been handling emergencies yourself instead of calling Foreman as you used to. Suzie has mentioned that since you're taking on all the emergency cases, you might be overcompensating your intern. You don’t tell Suzie though that your work has become a welcome distraction from the realization that your new hobby no longer holds your interest, leaving you with extra hours to fill before returning to the solitude of your apartment.

And without seeing Leigh, there’s only your own head to get your fill of her. You find yourself thinking about her now and then, about what she's been doing, wondering if she's found a new job after leaving her yoga instructor position. She crosses your mind at the most random hours of the day, take right now, for example—staring at this little 8-day-old Shih Tzu puppy in the incubator, its fur somehow has you thinking of Leigh's hair color.

The puppy was part of a litter brought in for a C-section. Tragically, its mother didn't survive, and the owner, possibly overwhelmed by the situation and the impending bills, abandoned them. Out of four puppies, this one, the runt of the litter, was the sole survivor.

“What are we going to do with you, huh?” you muse aloud, the puppy blinking back with innocent eyes. “I can't take you for myself; you'd just end up living here in the clinic with me. And let's be honest, living in a hospital can't be much fun, right? It’s not safe either, exposes you to diseases.”

You sigh, brushing its length with your forefinger. “The other choice is to send you to a shelter. I'm sure someone would fall head over heels for you and adopt you in no time. But,” you sigh, your heart heavy, “I can't guarantee that'll happen quickly, as much as we both might want it to.”

“Finding where you fit in this big world isn't easy, you know? It's like searching for that one place, or that one person, where you could simply just… belong to. But I guess when you finally find it, it feels like winning the lottery, right?”

The puppy makes a noise, automatically bringing a smile to your lips. You wonder if Leigh has ever thought of the same thing—about searching for where she belongs after losing her home and everything familiar when Matt passed away. Perhaps it's even scarier for her. The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?

And once it's gone, what does that leave us with?

One sleepless night, after deciding to bring the puppy home for a more personal touch in its care, a thought crosses your mind. What if you could restore some of what was inadvertently taken from Leigh? Maybe bring back a piece of home and purpose that seemed to have slipped through her fingers when her world turned upside down?

It’s true, the puppy's late-night energy partly nudged the thought your way, but deep down, you believe Leigh will be perfect for him. You're sure she'll adore him, and he's bound to love her just as much.

Just as you're settling back to attempt sleep again, your phone starts ringing. You blink at the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see it's Leigh calling—the same woman you've recently realized you have feelings for, and who's been on your mind just moments ago. A part of you wonders if she dialed the wrong number by mistake, but it keeps ringing, compelling you to answer.

“Leigh?” you answer, the name almost a question in itself.

On the other end, you hear her take a deep breath—an ironic move given how the call exudes a vibe of urgency. Then, she speaks, her voice clear yet carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite place.

“Y/N Are you available to talk right now?”

“Yeah, I am. What's going on—”

“No, not on the phone. Can you meet me right now?”

You glance down at yourself, noting your sleep shorts and tee. You're so comfortable and cozy in bed, and the puppy had just gotten to sleep. It's tempting to reschedule this some other time. But the thought of Leigh Shaw on the other end of the line, coupled with the worrying nature of her request, tilts the balance. The idea of saying no, only to find out something bad happened to her, is something you know you wouldn’t forgive yourself for.

“Yes, I can meet you,” you say, hurrying your movements and snatching your jacket from the cabinet. “Where?”

The date doesn't end with just late-night coffee.

Matt's hand is on your ass, fingers digging in like he owns the place. You’re gripping his tie, pulling him in, again and again. Both of you are still wearing all your clothes, but they're starting to feel like barriers as you both lean into each other, striving to get as close as humanly possible.

The invitation for a nightcap, decaffeinated per his request, had both of you sitting a bit too close on the couch, sharing silly smiles over steaming cups as if you were already lost in love. When the cups were drained, conversation drifted dangerously towards the topic of sex, and that's when you caught yourself staring at Matt's lips. Before he had a chance to react, you were going for it, giving into weeks of pent-up sexual tension.

Matt's lips find their way to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Encouraged by the heat of the moment, your fingers start to work on the buttons of Matt's shirt, eager to explore further.

But then his hands caught yours.

“W-Wait…”

You’re stunned, pulling back almost reflexively, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to figure out if you crossed a line.

“Did I... do something wrong?” you ask.

Matt shakes his head and then kisses you on the forehead. He further reassures you by saying, “No, no, it's not you. I just think we might be rushing things a bit. I really like you, and I want us to be sure about this, you know?”

Inside, you’re a mess of wants and needs, but as much as you want him tonight, you realize you want him even more tomorrow, and the day after. You won't rush this, especially if he's not ready. So, you nod, squashing down the throbbing between your legs as you try to concentrate on anything but his half-open shirt.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything,” he adds, wearing that apologetic look on his face that got you the first time.

In response, you hold Matt's face gently, giving him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “I really like you too,” you say, despite feeling like those words pale in comparison to what you truly feel for him.

Standing up, you figure he'll say his goodbyes and head out. But instead, Matt looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I don't want to rush things,” he repeats. “But, I also don't really want to leave just yet. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”

The request takes you by surprise, a warm fluttering sensation bubbling up inside you at the thought of him wanting to stay. “Of course, you can stay,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I hope you're okay with the couch.”

Matt laughs and starts pulling off his socks. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Ever since Leigh asked to meet at a gas station on the sketchier side of town, your anxiety hasn't settled. It's a part of town known for trouble, somewhere you'd rather not be, especially in the dead of night. It doesn’t matter, because you’re hopelessly driven by concern and an unspoken affection that won't let you say no to her, no matter the time or place.

You walk up to the convenience store next to the gas station, its fluorescent lights flickering ominously, almost like you've just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. It's dead silent, aside from a radio playing inside the store, turned up by the person manning it in a feeble attempt to fill the silence or maybe to keep company. Leigh is inside, visible through the large, pane-glass window, nursing a coffee, alone. The way she's standing, something's off.

You make your way towards her, hands buried deep in the comfort of your hoodie's pockets.

“Hey—”

She's like a coiled spring at the sound of your voice. That should’ve been your first clue.

“Why did you lie?” Leigh asks point-blank.

“Leigh, I—What do you mean?”

Leigh's face twists into a grimace that chills you to the bone, a clear sign that tonight's going down one of two paths: either you both find a way through this mess, or she cuts you out for good. But you're lost, genuinely clueless about any lie she's accusing you of. You've been straight with her, at least you think you have.

Her nostrils flare, her eyes burning holes into you as she waits for some sort of confession. But all you can give her is a dumbfounded look.

After a while, Leigh's patience wears thin. “We're not doing this here,” she growls, glaring at the lone store clerk, who seems amused and makes no attempt to hide his interest in eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Leigh, I seriously don't know what you're talking about.”

“Just come with me,” she snaps, ushering you back outside, pulling at your arm with a grip that leaves no room for argument. It's painful, the way her nails dig into your skin, but you suppose you deserve it, whatever it might be. If it helps her release her anger, you're willing to bear it.

Leigh stops, plants her hands on her hips, and just looks at you, like she's waiting for something to click in your head. “Leigh, please—” you start, but you're cut off not by her anger this time, but by the sight of her eyes glistening, fighting back tears.

“You're really going to make me say it?” she manages to choke out, before giving a humorless laugh and running a frustrated hand over her face. Before you can protest again, she thrusts a phone into your hand. It's lit up, a text conversation open and waiting. As you scroll through the messages, your mouth opens in shock. They're from Matt.

Skimming through the texts, your jaw nearly hits the ground. He's recounting your first date, detailing how the night ended with him at your place. He admits nothing happened, but not for a lack of desire. Instead, he confesses he held back because he's still wrestling with the fact that he's married to Leigh. He mentions wanting to make sure when he jumps in with you, he's not dragging any “chains” along.

He goes on, saying he felt you were on the same page, ready to go further, and implies the only reason things didn't heat up was because he had self-control. Reading this, you can't decide if Matt's just showing off or if he's trying to justify his half-steps to whoever's reading this on the other end.

“Whose phone is this?” you blurt out, the only question that registers in your brain. It turns out to be the wrong thing to say, though, as it’s precisely the spark that ignites Leigh's fury, sending it cascading over the edge.

“Don’t fucking change the subject!”

You press your lips into a thin line, your own frustration simmering. “I didn't lie to you, Leigh.” You wave the phone with Matt’s messages like some kind of proof, arguing, “He even says here nothing happened!”

“It's not just about what did or didn't happen!” she fires back, her eyes blazing. “You wanted it to happen. You were ready to go there with him. You wanted more, and you're still not owning up to it.”

At this point, keeping your emotions under wraps isn't an option anymore.

“Yes! Of course, I wanted to go there with him,” you explode, your hands coming up in the air in surrender. “I found him attractive, thought he was a great guy, and—single, Leigh! I thought he was single when I was falling for him, okay? Are you happy now?”

Leigh's response is to laugh, but it's not a happy sound. It's bitter, mocking, and it just keeps going.

You're standing there, breathing hard, your breath visible in the chilly air, when it hits you why she’s so upset: When you were telling her the details of your affair, you made it sound as if what happened—or almost happened—was just a casual fling. And Leigh, she just soaked up that version. In doing so, she somehow managed to forgive Matt, forgive you for your role in it, and even toy with the idea of being friends with you.

You made her believe it didn’t mean anything more than what she meant to him. It ripped off the bandage and thrust a knife back into her wound.

After Leigh's laughter fizzles out, the cold seems to bite a little harder, and you notice her shivering—whether from the cold or the tumult of emotions, you can't tell. She's just in shorts and a thin shirt, unprepared for the temperature drop.

Seeing her like this, vulnerable and cold, you feel the urge to just hug her and make her feel a fraction of how badly you regret deceiving her all along. Because saying “I'm sorry” feels way too small for the giant mess of feelings you're dealing with, especially the ones about her that you didn't even realize were piling up until now.

“Leigh,” you whisper, bargaining for something you don’t know.

She meets your gaze, a bit more peace in her eyes now, but that doesn't stop the tears from finally rolling down her cheeks. She's about to speak when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you, its headlights flashing across your faces, momentarily blinding you both.

A man steps out of the car, and Leigh recognizes him immediately. You do too, although it takes you a second longer to realize. Before either of you could react, he's already launching into a tirade. “Leigh, what the hell? Leaving in the middle of the night, stealing my phone—”

“Not now, Danny.”

You freeze, every fiber of your being locking onto the newcomer—because you're almost certain Leigh misspoke.

His name is not Danny.

It’s Nick.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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mindfulstudyquest · 1 month

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages. by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

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that---one---kid · 5 months

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The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room. Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him. You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you. A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage with you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance. Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way. In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #smut

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fangswbenefits · 4 months

Text

getting this off my chest

I really, really love writing for this fandom.

I think I haven't felt like this in years.

Astarion is such an enticing vessel for my creativity and has rekindled my joy for writing and putting it out there.

Alas, imposter syndrome really gnaws at my nerves more often than I care to admit.

"But Ruby, you have so many people who like your work. Why do you doubt yourself?"

Because I grew up being told I was never enough. That I was the worst at what I did best, which back then was learning English and surrounding myself in the language, hence why I sought comfort in fanfiction.

My sister, whom I love dearly, is an English teacher. She would be so harsh on me, and I know she meant well. She really did. But it was so hard back then. I would come to her with creative writing in English and she would just roll her eyes and tell me I wasn't good enough.

Nowadays, she acknowledges that I am more proficient than her and more at ease with the language, and even tells my nephew to study English with me instead.

But back then, I needed someone to believe I could do better.

So, there is a part of me that is proud that I am able to deal with real-life fatigue by writing and finding enjoyment in this hobby. But a much darker part of me tells me I'm not worthy and that I simply got lucky.

The Arrangement means a lot to me. I tend to dive right into fandoms and start writing for the character that caught my eye.

But I couldn't do that for Astarion... I am still unsure why. For those of you who have been here from my Miguel O'Hara days or when I first started posting about Astarion, you'll know The Arrangement was the first thing I ever posted for him.

Took me 2 weeks to get the first chapter out because I kept thinking I couldn't find a voice for Astarion. One that felt like him. After all, I'm always a step behind because I am not a native speaker. There will always be that looming feeling that I can't convey this story properly.

Even if you now know me for my Astarion smut, that wasn't even the driving force of my love for him.

It took me 2 months to feel comfortable writing smut for him. Why? I don't even know.

But The Arrangement feels different.

I love writing it and I love taking my liberties with the plot.

It's my opportunity to fully showcase my love for him.

I know not everyone likes it. I know some of you have dropped it. Some of you will drop it. But some will walk along this path with me, and I can't stress enough how your feedback and love help keep these negative thoughts at bay.

It's an internal work, though. It is not your job to validate my writing skills. This is not what puts food on my table. I am not looking to be published. I am looking for an escape. And it's so frustrating when my mind tries to rob me of joy even when it comes to a hobby.

"If this is a hobby why does it matter what others think or if they like what you write? Just have fun. Write for yourself."

And I do write for myself, but I share my work because I am hopeful my words can make someone's day. I seek that connection I never had growing up. Perhaps it sounds silly, but it's what makes the most sense in my head.

The Arrangement should be my pride and joy even if not perfect (nothing ever is, I suppose). And I'm exhausted of not feeling proud of it. I'm tired of this vicious cycle of self-doubt.

Don't get me wrong. I love writing smut. I think that's what I'm best at (well, in my opinion). I love exploring Astarion this way, too, but...

I don't know where I'm going with this... if anyone has made it this far, thank you, and sorry for the word vomit...

#ruby rambles ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

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raitonsfw · 2 months

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Hello, can I request headcanons of Tamaki with a gn reader who often feels very lonely, and whose love languages are quality time, physical touch & words of affirmation? (I'm sorry if this is too sad or too much. You don't have to write this if you don't want to <3)

synopsis: a sfw requested variety piece of the love languages of tamaki amajiki with a gn! reader.

warnings: gn!reader, love languages (words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time), bouts of loneliness, some sadness, talks of dates and days off, a cute lil kiss, tamaki and reader are together in this (i hope that's okay!), tamaki works with fatgum at the agency alot, mirio togata mention!

a/n: this lifted my spirits more than you'll ever know (i got so teary-eyed writing these cute lil love languages and my life's been so full of love lately, so it was even more meaningful writing these headcanons!) wc: 800ish. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

•┈••✦ tamaki would always be busy, but he would try his best to make time for you– whether it’d be a day off to relax in the dorms with you or to go out on a quiet date and shop some with you. he’d definitely use that time to make sure you’re feeling loved and taken care of, holding your every word so attentively and letting you vent if need be.

•┈••✦ when he’d come home late, tamaki would be so tired from his missions but he’d still have enough energy to kiss you goodnight and snuggle beside you in bed. the endearing feeling of him pressed up next to you made you feel all warm and cozy and sometimes he’d even wrap his arm around you. no words would really have to be spoken, just small intimacies to let you know he was still there with you.

•┈••✦ sometimes when he noticed your seclusion creeping up your demeanor, he’d sit by you and pull you into an awkward embrace– hoping to ward off some of the darkness that resided in your head. his hands would immediately flatten against the small of your back and you’d feel the small circles that he massaged into it subconsciously; a reminder that he genuinely means to show affection even if it doesn’t quite come out the right way.

•┈••✦ he’s normally not one to be very vocal about things, but every once in a while, when you’re feeling down– his voice would ring through the air with a quiet affirmation of ‘you’re so good to me, i don’t know how i’d get by without you being here,’ or a gentle ‘you mean a lot to me, even if i don’t say it often– just needed to let you know, y/n.’ you’d chalk it up to mirio giving him the motivation (courage more like) to say those sweet things, but it still made you all teary-eyed.

the dorms seemed lonely nowadays, with tamaki joining fatgum on his missions. it wasn’t like he could help it, the agency he worked for was very busy with missions and you’d often get trapped in a sense of longing whenever he had to leave you behind due to an occurrence happening in another district.

the sofa you sat on had room for two– but it was only occupying the space, your arms folding against your knees as you curled in on yourself. tamaki, of course, had a mission and you didn’t know if he was going to be back anytime soon so you decided to just order in and watch your favorite show for a while; though the television just felt like static to your dulled mind.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep, maybe it was when a character on your show had been given a hug goodbye or when the moon hung high in the sky, the stars bright from the big window that sat across from you. a soft hand lulled you from your sleep and you opened your eyes groggily– being met with tamaki sitting in front of you with a small smile, his head slightly tilted.

“tamaki…” you said groggily, sitting up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. you didn’t know if you were still dreaming or not, his face a little blurry from the dazed interaction. his fingers lightly caressed the back of your arm, careful not to be too rough with you as he leaned in for a greeted kiss.

“i got off early…” he said, a hush to his voice that made you calm; it wasn’t often that he’d wake you up like this. normally, he’d let you sleep but maybe he sensed you were a bit out of sorts. “i’m also taking a day off tomorrow.”

you looked at him properly before registering his words– he was still in his pro hero uniform, the violet visor lifted up to headband against the front of his hair and his ears tinted pink as he looked away from you towards the television. his eyes darted back towards you quickly when you opened your mouth to speak, a furrowed look overtaking your features.

his heart raced at your worried expression, maybe he should’ve explained more– “it’s not because i got hurt or anything! i just haven’t seen you much and i wanted to spend the day with you.”

and always, without fail; when you were at your lowest, the isolation dissipated as tamaki took your hand in his to soothe you. his own nervousness would often mingle with yours, unsure of what to do besides hold you steady in his arms– but this time it seemed to come naturally as he pulled you closer into his space.

“sometimes i feel bad that i’m always away from you– but i promise i’m going to make sure you’re never alone.”

taglist: @classyempathmongercloud | @rubyparsonx

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leggerefiore · 5 months

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What would the villains call their beloved? Would they have different nicknames for them in bed?

cw: light sex mentions, mostly fluff, Minors DNI

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Volo, Guzma

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ Honestly, he calls you too many affectionate names, ranging from his mother tongue over to whatever language you speak. It almost seems as if he has forgotten your actual name at times. Though, when he does call it out, it probably frightens you a bit. It becomes such a rare occurrence that you expect something bad. Lysandre sees no need to change what he refers to you as in public or not, too. The only time he may drop it all together was for anything related to business.

☕️ He tends to lean towards things like “my love” or “my dear,” but “darling” and even “my angel” when he is feeling oddly emotional. Sycamore gives a laugh at all the endearments that he counts whenever you both visit. It is genuinely loving when coming from him, as he rarely feels so strongly and lovingly towards another person.

☕️ In bed, nothing changes too much. He prefers to lather on affection and love wherever he can. Though, oddly, the frequency in which your actual name is spoken increases in more intimate moments. It seems he finds the use of your actual name something deeper than most of the affectionate terms be usually spills out.

“My love,” Lysandre's deep voice called out to you while you were slipping on your shoes to leave. You were shocked to see him home so early. He rarely came home near the midafternoon, often inundated with work or whatever else came up in his professional life. An arm came around you warmly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and then to your lips. “Where are you going?” You sighed slightly. No where now, you supposed, while leaning into the warmth of his embrace.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 He struggles a lot with endearments. It honestly is a bit embarrassing how he feels trying to think of what he could possibly call you. Maxie felt there was no need for such things. Despite that, however, he found himself with a few to use in private with you. In public, he was much too formal to even dare call you anything but your name. He did not wish to seem overly soft. His reputation as the leader of Team Magma was important.

🪨 Though, as soon as you both are alone, a “beloved” escapes him. He prefers more “formal” affectionate terms. “Dearest” and “my love” are also not so uncommon. Yet, sometimes he does drift to something softer, like calling you “Numel.” He always catches himself after that one, gets flustered, and denies that he even said it. It is a real compliment, rest assured, as he finds the pokemon utterly adorable.

🪨 Maxie does not really use different terms during sex. (Though, “Numel” certainly does not make an appearance there.) There is something a little bit funny about his flustered face and moans mixed with the term “beloved” escaping his lips. Since sex falls firmly in his private time with you, there is no reason for his choice of endearments to change, he feels.

You heard the door click open as you laid on the couch, bored. “I'm home, beloved,” Maxie's voice called out as he entered the room. He had been away all day, busy with whatever his group was doing nowadays. You perked up at the sight of him and rushed over immediately. He flinched as you squeezed him into a tight hug, nuzzling into the knit texture of his sweater. He was so warm. “My, what's this?�� the Magma leader chuckled. Shifting out of his work mindset, he allowed himself to embrace you in return. He had come to love you greeting him after a long day of work. “I missed you, too,” he sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to your head. When you gazed up at him with lidded eyes and a tired expression, he had to bite back, mumbling out a “Numel.”

🌊Archie🌧

💧 How many marine and pirate terms can this man use to refer to you? It truly is a mystery as to where he finds all of these terms in his head, but you suppose he was nothing if not obsessed with the ocean. Archie honestly prefers endearments to your real name, clearly a sign of his affection if his calling a certain kid scamp was anything to go by. He nearly always refers to you by some pet name or endearment that has crossed. Worries do cross your mind that he has actually forgotten your name. (You test him to make sure he has not. Archie was extremely confused by this afterward, but he passed it with ease.)

💧 “Luvdisc” is his favourite term to use overall, clearly enchanted by the association with the pokemon to long-lasting relationships. “Treasure” is another favourite, but somehow gets outshone by the fish. There are also a few “darlin's” that come from him when he tries to change up hos dialogue a bit. Maxie gags at his gratuitous use of the terms around him, but everyone else thinks it is pretty run-of-the-mill for Archie. He is just an affectionate guy, so why would that not reflect in what he calls his lover? You certainly do not mind.

💧 Within the confines of sheets, he does tend to lean more towards the use of “treasure.” He feels a bit to overcome to really even say Luvdisc. Besides, you clearly are a treasure, somehow even more precious than his beloved ocean. There may also be a few more easier terms tossed around, like just straight up “love.” His brain power is going elsewhere in those moments, please excuse him. Though, if he ever uses the term love and you are not heading in an intimate direction, rest assured that you are now.

“Luvdisc,” Archie's voice travelled across the beach with a near terrifying volume. You peeked up from your phone as he rushed to your side. His grin was bright and his form as caught in the hot sun beautifully. His favouritism for a certain nickname for you was always apparent. He squeezed you in a tight embrace, even spinning you around for a moment. “Ah, there's my treasure. Thought I'd lost for a moment,” he let out a sigh. You nearly let one out, too. You were just about to call him, but that was clearly unneeded now. A kiss was shared between you both before settling down on the sands to enjoy the afternoon.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He refuses to use terms of endearment when literally anyone else is around. Cyrus is not one for allowing himself to seem influenced or emotional. While he may love you dearly, there is not a chance he would express that in the sight of other people. It almost becomes expected for your name to called out by the blue-haired man when he wants your attention. It would be a bit depressing if you were not already aware of how restrained he was. There are a few rare moments a more affectionate term slips from him with people around, but that usually is reserved for when he is in distress.

☄️ But, he does allow himself a momentary escape when alone with you. “Beloved” is his go to and typically the only one he ever seems to use. It fits him oddly. Though, he also uses other terms more sparingly. A “dear” and “wife/husband/spouse” are generally used, too. It may seem a bit stiff, especially when paired with how standoffish Cyrus could be, but it was clear from how he unconsciously shifted to them that discreetly showed that he truly cared. No one else gets called by anything but their name by him, after all. You are even allowed to call him whatever you please with people around. His soft spot for you is more than apparent.

☄️ As for in bed… He barely uses different terms. Beloved does seem to be ditched in favour of the convenience that “dear” provides in his stricken state. His brain is not working as he intends it to. He struggles to say a lot during sex usually, anyway, so it is a bit invigorating to hear the affectionate word escape his lips. Though, if he does say your actual name, that either means he is truly overcome with feelings or upset. It is pretty easy to find out which it is.

"Beloved..." Cyrus mumbled out as you nuzzled into his nape. Your arms were tightly around his waist. He had just come home after a few days away due to his plans.

“Beloved…” Cyrus mumbled out as you nuzzled into the nape of his neck. Your arms were tightly around his waist. He had just come home after a few days away due to his work on his plans. You did not say a word as you continued to cling to him. The Galactic Boss knew better than to wonder why you were being so affectionate. Your incomplete spirit begged for you to crave his attention and affection. He sighed. It was not like he could pretend that he was much better. Not when he enjoyed the feeling of your body pressed against his so much. One of his arms came around your waist. “I apologise for being away for so long…” he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, “Let's enjoy this time we have together.” You finally peered up at him with a loving gaze.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ Truthfully, he uses endearments extremely sparingly. There is something that he finds about referring to other people with a term that shows how much you feel about them very uncomfortable. Though, with you, it is quite unfortunate how easy the terms slip off his tongue. Volo supposes a part of it is how obvious he wants to make your relationship to any observers. He would admit he does have a slight jealous schism internally. Of course, he does it for you, too. The blond is fully aware of how much you enjoy hearing him call you such sweet terms.

⭐️ He usually falls into the camp of things like “love,” “dear,” and “darling.” Traditional time-tested things. There is a certain mocking tone he may take after everything is said and done by calling you a “chosen one.” That falls somewhere between a genuine endearment and him being cruel, however. Most people will also get sick with him referring to you as his partner/girlfriend/boyfriend. It is clear to most people paying attention that it some strange from a claiming on his part. Of course, you can only stare at him in adoration whenever he uses them.

⭐️ Alas, Volo definitely drops a lot of his loving facade in bed. His tone can be that of someone filled completely with love or malice, depending on the situation. The terms are the same, but he may also lean more towards sneering out a “chosen one” to vent out some of his frustrations. Just be happy it is with his dick consensually this time and not trying to have Giratina kill you this time around. He may also use a bit more degrading terms, but telling him off usually makes him stop.

“Oh, if it isn't my love,” Volo's voice was recognisable, but especially so when you two met while you were out doing research tasks. His smile was nothing but friendly as he approached you. “Can I interest you in some more pokeballs?” his tone was teasing now. You sighed as tugged on his bag's strap to pull him down to your height. These random run-ins have become more common since you started dating. It was more than obvious he likely had an eye out for you… And was neglecting his merchant duties once again. You could not complain when he pecked a quick kiss to your lips. It seemed you both would be spending a decent amount of time along together in the wilds of Hisui.

🕶Guzma💀

□ This big, bad boss loves calling you whatever pet name he can think of. He literally probably only says your name if he is asking someone else for you. Guzma just does not really see a point in not doing it. He basically calls everyone by nicknames. Except for Kukui, but he is an exception, not the rule. He does not care about whether it is socially acceptable or not, he just does what he wants and isn't concerned with the looks he gets for saying “babe.”

□ He leans towards more casual, modern terms. “Babe” is one of the bigger ones, but he will occasionally bring out a “cutie” or “sexy.” The latter often gets him a few side eyes. A rarer one that seems to only used when he is certain no one else is around is “love-bug.” You try not to laugh at it because you can tell he is trying his best to combine his love for bug-types with his feelings for you. Though, you saw Plumeria choke out a laugh when she heard him say it to you once. It was a bit funny seeing Guzma say such a thing while trying to keep up his edgy appeal.

□ In bed, he does not really change what he says too much. Cutie may not rear its head, but sexy and babe are certainly a plenty. He may even combine if he feels so inclined. Though, it may also be a product of him losing his mental focus in the throes of passion. Your name is occasionally blurted out within the brain-mush of words, too. He is a bit of a mess, honestly.

“Hey, babe!” Guzma's voice stood out among the crowd of people that had taken over the usually quiet route. Rumours about some rare pokemon apparently drew them in, making it annoying to navigate despite needing to. His hand caught your arm as he pulled you under his own, determined not to get separated again. You heard him mumble something about annoying tourists under his breath as both managed to get out of the crowded place. “What the hell is so great about that many Meowths?” he complained, “If they wanna see a collection, I'd be happy to point them to that Kahuna's house.” You chuckled at the thought. Guzma only pressed you more into his side while walking down the route. It seemed like showing you the Wimpod nest would be on hold for today.

#pokemon x reader #lysandre x reader #cyrus x reader #volo x reader #guzma x reader #archie x reader #maxie x reader #pokemon lysandre x reader #pokemon archie x reader #pokemon maxie x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon volo x reader #pokemon guzma x reader #lysandre/reader #archie/reader #maxie/reader #cyrus/reader #volo/reader #guzma/reader

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lightlycareless · 9 days

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I keep thinking of naoya making a fool of himself around y/n and y/n just being confused (idk) like he tries to get her to like him but it doesn’t turn out well😭 , idk if that made sense sorry!!😔

Hello!!

Awww this was really sweet to think about, however I got confused in the end and made it somewhat of a happy ending lmao.

Well, I still hope you like it!! (If anyone wants angst tho, I do recommend reading my valentine's day special. But I too been wanting to write something heart clenching for a while, might get onto it....)

warnings: highschool au. naoya likes you but he doesn't know how to approach you. he is ridiculous.

Happy reading!!

A silly Naoya is more like an overconfident Naoya, the type of guy that will never stop bragging about ANYTHING just to make you look his way.

It's certainly worse when he's barely starting to acknowledge his feelings, getting to that point where he finally says "I think I like her."

To stand out and get your attention is something Naoya never thought he'd need to do, simply believing that his title as heir of the Zen'in and his outstanding achievements as sorcerer would've done the trick—but they didn't, and now, he had to put in the work.

Thus, the borderline ridiculous demonstrations of his persona, courtesy of Ranta's advice; though if it’s worth anything, this is not what he envisioned.

"Can you believe he didn't want to accept my assignment only because I didn't hand it over in a folder? That's so stupid, can't wait to get him fired as soon as I—"

"Wait, Naoya, Y/N's coming!"

"ANYWAYS I WENT TO THE MALL THE OTHER DAY TO THIS LUXURIOUS STORE AND BOUGHT JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING THERE AND STILL HAD MONEY TO SPARE, GEE WHY IS EVERYTHING SO CHEAP NOWADAYS??? AND PEOPLE STILL COMPLAIN ABOUT THE ECONOMY!! I JUST WISH I HAD SOMEONE TO SHARE ALL MY MONEY WITH—did she look??? Did she turn around to see me??"

Ranta sighs.

"No."

"Ughghhhhhhh what do I need to do to make her see me?!"

Though frustrated, he does not give up.

"—yeah, I think we're going to this super expensive resort for the weekend. I personally preferred to travel out of the country, but you know how my father is, lazy as always. If it were up to that old man we’d never leave the—and now??? Did that work?? Is she looking??"

But the results are the same.

Naoya would keep on trying, loudly proclaiming things that in his mind would eventually earn him your interest, or at least a simple glance….

Until he, eventually of course, tires himself out. Sorrowfully finding that his endeavors had been nothing but fruitless as you continue living your own life, without Naoya in your consideration.

You’re slowly becoming someone unreachable to his grasp, and while he doesn’t plan on giving up just yet, he does intend to take a break, maybe reconsider his possibilities… before coming to a conclusion where you might not be involved anymore.

And what better way to clear his mind than indulging in one of his favorite activities—secluding himself at the rooftop of the school building to read the newest release of his favorite manga.

Unaware that someone else might be there, coincidentally… the person he wished nothing more than to be with.

"What are you reading?" You'd ask upon noticing the intense stare of the young, somewhat handsome man, he’s giving his magazine.

"Do you mind? I'm bus—o-oh!" He freezes upon realizing it was the girl of his dreams talking to him, cheeks burning red as he closes the manga and looks away. “Don’t—Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on someone like that?!"

"Ah, sorry!" You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that you looked so concentrated, I couldn’t help but to be intrigued! Is your story really interesting?"

"...it is" Naoya murmurs, gaze returning to you—he almost glances away yet again at your closeness, but your beauty makes it almost impossible to do so. "It's the latest chapter, I waited a whole month to read it."

“A whole month…?” you repeat. “Wow.”

“Yeah, it was a long time—"

“Hmmm, not quite.” You teased. “I’ve waited years just to see the continuation of my favorite series! Talk about dedication.”

“Huh, well, I don’t think it’s the same—this felt worse because of how good it is.”

“Really? I don’t know, I can’t believe you—I have to see what you’re reading for that. You grin, he smirks.

“Is that so? Then don’t let me stop you from finding the truth.”

And Naoya happily obliges, both excited to share one of the things he enjoys the most with the person he adores most, as well as the fact that you’re finally setting your eyes on him! After all this time!

He considered it to be incredibly unexpected, and perhaps a bit silly how it came to be, unable to believe that it took so little to impress you.

But as soppy as it sounds, there is truth in admitting that there is no better way to get someone to like you, than by being yourself.

omg that was so fluffy agkjasjghasjkghjsa cheesy too ahahahahah damn I surprised myself for sure!!

Rest assured, you heard Naoya do all of those things and consistently thought "Is he ok? Why is he yelling?"

After the two begin to date you'll tell him how weird it was of him to do all that hahahah though... "You didn't have to do that, I already liked you." Naoya feels even sillier :^)

Anyways, I hope you liked it!! I'm sorry this didn't end up in a sad note, I read the request very quickly and ended up understanding you only wanted an interpretation of Naoya being silly—though I do want to write something sad between the two, him messing up and all that. Luckily, I have the perfect excuse for that through other asks hehehehehe

Thank you so much for sending in this ask and for your patience!! Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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bipp-bopp-time-to-stop · 1 month

Text

A Divine Devotee

It's finally here and I'm at 100 followers! It's still sinking in for me but I wanted to do something to celebrate. Given how loved "Far More Than Just A Mask" is, I decided that a part two to it would be great for my 100 follower fic. Getting it written, like all of my fics, was something of a process so I hope it's at least as good as the first part. Hope you all enjoy!

TW: Yandere themes, blood, descriptions of a violent ritual, gore, cannibalism (accidental, technically), nudity, Fierce goes absolutely mental and no one has a Good Time TM

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Learning to live with the Fierce Deity in the flesh was something you expected to be akin to a thorn in your side. He was, in a way, just that. Were he not tasked with something, he was beside you. Even if he wasn’t by your side for whatever reason, that didn’t mean he still wasn’t with you in some capacity.

That strange bond he forced created between the two of you was still present. With every passing day, it seemed to weaken but you doubted it would every go away. In the present, it was hard to send little more than a handful of words over the bond, so the two of you relied on emotion. You never really thought about what it would feel like to be emotionally connected to another person (much less a god) but what you got wasn’t something you expected.

Emotion did not radiate off of him in a way you could sense it. It wasn’t some visible aura around him nor did it replace your own. Rather, it was a feeling in you body. Your being would alight with a hot flash at his anger or your extremities would slowly turn numb and freeze at despair. Your lungs would stutter and your eyes would sting with his sadness and your heart and brain would flood with dopamine at his joy. Not matter how he felt, it was always extreme.

Yet, when you once asked him what your emotions felt like, he described it as trying to sense the presence of a mouse. Your emotions, quite simply, were but a whisper to him. Despite that, he claimed he always did his best to sense and feel them. You had no choice but to experience his emotions so he felt it only fair that he try to do the same.

It had confused you, at first, as to why it was like this. Why he was so extreme and you weren’t in the eyes of the bond. Although he may be “talkative” with you, he’s typically quiet and rather neutral around the rest of the boys. All it took was some few minutes of thinking when the answer quite literally appeared in his name.

Fierce Deity.

He is a god and you are a mortal. Gods, in comparison to mortals, live at an unreachable extreme. It would certainly explain why Fierce always had that air of intensity to him. It would also explain why you felt so minute in comparison to him. It made you worry about what the future may hold. Would he eventually grow tired of how little you were in relation to his divinity? Would his boredom lead to him simply leaving or acting upon his name towards you and the group to amuse himself? Pessimism was easy to reach your mind nowadays and you know (you hoped) that such thoughts could never come true, but your brain refused to shut up.

Large bulky arms secure themselves around you and startle you from your spiral. The smell of rancid iron assaults your nose and the seeping wetness of your clothes makes it clear that you’re going to say goodbye to yet another outfit. A weighty head rests itself upon you and the rumbling hum that sounds though the chest pressed against your back resonates through your nerves. As the arms strengthen their embrace even further, you find yourself being slowly lifted from the ground.

“What ails you, dearest?” Fierce inquires. He audibly huffs and puffs in the scent of your hair but such oddities have long since lost their weird factor on you.

“Nothing too important, Fie- uhm, honey. Just my brain not wanting cease its ramblings. What… about you?” You respond as you look down at the arms around you. He wasn’t drenched in blood but it was certainly splattered on him. Not in huge amounts (at least huge in comparison to the typical gore he seemed to wear), but enough to tell you that something- or someone- was now dead. For the sake of not developing a headache, you hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“I brought us food. Elk,” Fierce stated. Ah, that would explain the strange and distant cry you heard some thirty minutes ago. And, for the next thirty minutes, you’d be avoiding the bloody scene that would now be accompanying camp. The double helix sword Fierce wielded was great against monsters but too rough against prey. As such, he simply resorted to using little more than his hands when it came to ending them. You had seen the end product of this method only once and it was sight that you vowed to never look at again. The bent neck, torn skin, smashed head, and splinters of bone poking through the pelt… ugh, there goes your appetite.

As silence continues to permeate the atmosphere, the embrace around you eventually loosens. Fierce’s footsteps crunch and squish on the forest floor as he moves away from you. He stops once he’s fully in view and you can’t help but stare at his face. It would be wrong to say he was anything less than beautiful. His face- his true face- was so similar yet different to the mask made in his likeness. His tattoos, still red and blue and angular, were more weathered like warpaint. His hair, still silvery white and straight, had turned into billowing locks due to the passage of centuries. And his eyes- oh, those eyes- were still so intense. They didn’t glow white hot with rage and were no longer blank slates. Rather, a ring of steely gray and blue surrounded his pupils. The colors reminded you of both the swinging steel of battle and the common hue of blue that existed in the eyes of most of the boys. A small feature, you wonder, that may have been picked up from Time.

“If you choose to accompany me to go get cleaned up… then I assure you that there will be more to look at then,” Fierce offers with a slight lit in his voice. His lips are ever so slightly turned upward as are his brows. Perhaps not as poetic as Wars’ pick up lines, but still effective enough to get your heart pumping.

“Well, after you got me dirty, I have little choice but to join you,” You sigh and follow behind the man. He lets out little more than a small chuckle, one of triumph, but you don’t let it get to you. Had you declined his invitation, he’d no doubt be left in a cranky mood. And, whenever Fierce was feeling all around unpleasant, it would always lead to most unpleasant things.

As you walked behind the god, you vaguely noted how the forest started to thin out before stopping completely. Stretching out before you was a sizeable lake. It was hours away from Ordon, hence why you never saw it in game or never heard Twilight mention it, but it was a reminder that there was so much more to every Hyrule than a screen could ever show. The surface of the water was still and stained a variety of oranges and pinks with the setting sun. Even after basking in the spring sun for the entire day, the water would undoubtedly still be cold.

A clinking sound catches your attention and you look over at Fierce just in time to see his chestplate fall to the ground. By now, his hands are fiddling with the buckle of his belt and you advert your eyes away. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both seen Fierce naked or bathed with him, but there was still a layer of reserve you had towards him. You had accepted the fact that you were now his lover (not that you were going to be left with any other choice) but there were certain aspects of a romantic relationship that you weren’t ready for yet. Perhaps it was because you were scared of taking such a leap. Or, maybe, your feelings didn’t run deep for the god like his surely did for you. Whatever the case was, constantly adventuring, fighting, and dealing with the Shadow made it hard to try and sort out such complex thoughts and conflicting emotions. For now, you had little choice but to go with the flow.

Once Fierce had waded deep enough into the water to where only the start of his hips and the beginning tufts of his happy trail peaked above the water did you go about getting undressed. The deity was kind enough to keep his eyes trained elsewhere until you were in the water much like him. An involuntary grunt fell from your lips as you waded into the cold waters but the sooner you got washed off, the sooner you’d be out of the lake.

After a quick dip below the surface to fully wet your body, you were whisked into Fierce’s arms. He carefully placed his arms around your midsection as not to touch an private parts of your body. The warmth that radiated from him was welcome in the face of the biting temperatures of the lake. Without his armor or thick clothes to cover up his body, you had full view of picturesque divinity. It wasn’t superhero level of muscle nor veiny, but was certainly a warrior’s build. The expanses of his muscles were only heighted or barely hidden by a suitable layer of fat. The fat only added to his weight to make him more solid and even harder to push around as well as helped soften any blows that may befall him. Unsurprisingly, his body was littered with scars of battles and wars waged so long ago that the history books likely couldn’t recall them. His hands were wide and large as well as covered in callous. You felt envious of the ways he made certain flaws and imperfections look so desirable.

“You ought to work on ‘shutting up’ your brain more often, dear (Name). It’s no wonder you experience so many headaches,” Fierce hummed out as he began to card a hand through your hair. With a few kisses placed to the crown of your head, you were distracted enough from your thoughts yet again to focus on the now. You didn’t bring any soap with you, but you hadn’t been splattered with blood like Fierce was. For now, the water should be enough.

Fierce begins to ladle water across your shoulders before you can even cup your own hands. Once fully wet, the man goes about rubbing your skin both to wash off any blood or grime but to also soothe your muscles. Even with the rough skin that coated his palms and fingers, his touch and motions were gentle. The gesture was nice and a welcome feeling to the stiff knots littered throughout your neck and shoulders, but it was also strange.

Not strange in the fact that it came from your lover, but from a god. It was the mortal, no matter the nature of the relationship, that did acts of service for the divine. Brought them food, made sacrifices in their name, and lived, breathed, and died by their beliefs. They’d heed every order given to them no better than a well trained dog. There were, of course, exceptions to this standard.

And Fierce was quiet the exception.

He acted as if you were the sole reason he existed. He brought you food, gifted you things from trinkets to treasures, and even shouted out your name in battle as if it was waged for you. Even with your hesitance towards him at times, he never once faltered in the way he acted. Any positive sign from you, from a compliment to something like a kiss on the cheek, only seemed to embolden him further. You had to be scarce in affection with Fierce even if it may have seemed harmless at the time.

Gods are dangerous beings, after all. Their sorrow drowns lands and their anger scorches the earth til’ naught but ashes remain. Their envy chokes the life out of whatever it can bind itself around and even their happiness can lead to slaughter. But their love? That’s a whole other beast to deal with.

Whenever Fierce felt as if he hadn’t been given enough affection recently, he sought to gain it by doubling his efforts. Instead of picking the ripest grapes from the vine for you to snack on, he’d uproot the whole plant and drag it back to camp for you. Instead of gifting you a new tunic or bracelet, he’d dump entire wardrobes of clothing and accessories upon you (kindly cleaned of gore, naturally). Instead of handing you a few monster parts he picked up after battle as a little trophy, he’d make let you watch him harvest them. He’d force ask you to tell him which parts to tear away next. From ripping out teeth and twisting off horns to gutting them and pulling out their innards, he did it. Given a monster’s tendency to puff away into nothing more than smoke upon death, the beasts were always forced to stay alive.

Yet, after receiving love and affection, he could be even worse. Smothering to the point you weren’t allowed to do nearly anything without his “help”; walk, eat, change, or bathe. He’d be willing to bite at anything that came near the two of you during his moments of love, leaving you with little choice but to distance yourself from the rest of the group. In the moments where he was nothing short of lovesick, you were left with very few options as to calm him down. Some days you’d have to act indifferent towards him to get him to back up whereas others required you to just submit to the affections like a doll for him to hug and squeeze. If you didn’t manage to subdue him fast enough… bad things happened.

Like right now.

You had been whisked away from your bed in the middle of the night. Despite your pout and complaints, Fierce did little more than hum as he carried you out of the castle. The guards that were littered about the grounds hardly acknowledged the two of you (most certainly out of fear of what Fierce would do to them). The only familiar face you passed by was Impa, but the woman only spared you what you believe to be her attempt at a sympathetic gaze (no doubt Wars had filled her and Zelda in on the relationship between you and the deity).

As Fierce’s long legs carried you through Hyrule castle and out of the city’s protective walls, you could only fathom what awaited you. He was always one to make sure you had a proper amount of sleep each night, so this deviation in routine had your stomach twisting. As he began to venture into the woods, a little tune was hummed under his breath and his fingers idly tapped against your back. A harmless gesture any other day or situation, but it meant he was excited. No doubt to show you something and to explain his scarce presence over the past few days.

“You’ve always shared a lot of your culture with me. Food, celebrations, talk of your society and how it functions, and even what love is like in your world,” Fierce finally broke the silence of the forest (why are the woods quiet? Why can’t you see any fairies fluttering around?). “I thought, perhaps… I could do the same. It’s not much, but I still want you to enjoy a few things I did back when I was in my prime.”

With those partially cryptic words finally spoken, you were set down on your own two feet and spun around. In a small clearing of the forest now sat a little feast. Placed upon a round but sizeable table were multiple plates of decadent food. Some dishes were familiar to you such as a fragrant seafood stew prepped with lobster, crab, prawns, and fish. Strips of glazed and tender gourmet meat rested upon a suitable bowl of rice. There was also a charcuterie and meat board loaded with all sorts of treats. The sight was enough to get your stomach rumbling and you sat down in the smaller chair at the table. With the hot and fresh food before you (no doubt kept that way with the use of a little magic), your worries could wait for a moment.

“This is but a sliver of the food that use to grace the tables I ate at. While this little feast lacks many things, mainly ambrosia and entertainment, I do hope you enjoy it,” Fierce states as he watches you dig into whatever was closest to you. The food tasted just as amazing as it looked and smelled, so Fierce had to have gotten help from someone. Perhaps Wild or the cooks at Hyrule castle? Whoever it was, you were grateful to them.

As you enjoyed some of the gourmet meat and rice bowl, another plate was slid over to you. It appeared to be a standard plate of steak but the meat on the plate wasn’t beef. It looked similar to beef, but it sooner looked like a filet than a steak. Not to mention that the smell may have been meaty and savory, but not beef like. It was also generously covered in a thin, dark sauce and plated with a small pile of what you imagined was the Hyrule equivalent of home fries.

Curious to try the new dish, you moved it closer and brought your fork and knife to it. You did your best to slice against the grain and pulled away with a good bite of the meat. After a quick dip in the sauce it came with, you plopped it into your mouth and began to chew. It was soft and tender and had a similar mouth feel to regular steak, but the taste was far from that simple. It had the meaty heaviness that came with red meat but it’s taste was a bit closer to poultry. The tangy sauce helped cover up the subtle, bitter aftertaste of the food.

“What do you think? It’s the one dish I prepared myself,” Fierce commented as he watched you. He practically seemed to be on the edge of his seat and his eyes bore straight through you. His eagerness towards your commentary was strange given how innocent this little date night had been so far, so you decided to not question it too much as not to ruin the mood.

“It’s an interesting taste. It tastes good and the sauce is a good pair for the meat, but it’ll still take some getting used to,” You replied before taking another bite out of the meat. Since this was the plate Fierce had specially prepared himself, it would be nice of you to finish it.

“I also made a drink. It’s not as close to the mortal made ambrosia as I hoped it would be, but I hope you enjoy it,” Fierce pipes up yet again as he hands you a wine glass full of what looks similar to red wine. It’s darker in color, though, as well as more opaque. When you go to taste it, you also notice that it’s just a bit thicker than normal wine. While there is the taste of grapes and alcohol in it, there’s also a noticeable twang of raspberry and something else you can’t put your finger on. Much like the meat, there was subtle, bitter aftertaste. You offer Fierce a nod of approval and, for the moment, that’s that.

The midnight meal passes by rather peacefully. The forest is still all too quiet for your liking but at least you and Fierce keep each other company. When it eventually becomes too much to take so much as another bite out of any of the food, the deity also sets down his utensils along with you. As you sit and digest your food, Fierce goes about packing up the leftovers and storing them in his own enchanted pouch.

Instead of picking you back up and taking you back to the castle, Fierce beckons you to follow him closer into the forest. You comply, albeit a bit sluggishly due to a full belly and the early stages of fatigue. Wherever he’s taking you next mustn’t be far or else he would’ve picked you up.

The next spot he takes you to is dark and ill lit by moonlight. You can make out what appears to be a… tub? It’s clearly filled with liquid and had all kinds of petals scattered around it and in it. Underneath the earthy and floral scent of the scene, there’s another smell that you turn your nose from. With it being smothered by everything else, though, the most you can describe it as is a stale musk.

Gently, Fierce begins to pull away the pajamas covering your body. He keeps his actions slow and steady so you could make him stop at any time. You don’t as you understand he wasn’t going to do anything bad to you and, before long, your night clothes and underwear are neatly put to the side. Fierce helps you into the tub and let’s your body slowly sink into the liquid. There’s a noticeable thickness to the liquid- like a thinned out syrup. Aside from that and the smell, it was only luke warm. Were there more moonlight or just any light in general, you’d be able to properly see the color of the liquid.

Fierce kneels down by your side and begins to rub the liquid into the parts of your body that aren’t submerged. He says little aside from a few orders to move one way or the other. Whatever elixir it is that you’re bathing in is also added into your hair and generously applied to your face. Your best guess is that this was some sort of soak that Fierce must have done to himself way back when. Whether it was going to be beneficial for you or not would be something you could get figured out later.

“I imagine you’re curious about all of this,” Fierce murmurs out as he continues to “wash” your hair. “The meal, this bath, and what more I may have planned…”

“Well, yes… that’s been in the back of my mind the entire time,” You confirm after a moment of hesitance. That telltale churning in your gut was starting to act up but you did your best to hide it. You weren’t the only one nervous, though, as Fierce also seemed to be getting anxious as well. It buzzed through the bond like a bee’s nest. Nervousness was a rather rare emotion for the deity and it made your blood run cold at whatever he may be planning.

“Remember… how I promised that my love for you is eternal? Well, it is but… you’re not,” Fierce sighs and the bond is flooded with sadness that threatens to make you sob until the sun rises. Thankfully, it doesn’t last for much longer as Fierce seems to focus his train of thought elsewhere.

“Y-Yeah?” You cough out after a bit. Fierce remains still and silent for a few moments despite your stare. Slowly, his eyes meet yours and the intensity that stirs within them could have been enough to kill.

“I think I’ve figured out a solution to that.”

What?

What did he mean by that? Was… was he planning on turning you into a god? Or, at the very least, immortal? There’s little else his comment could be interpreted as. But how would such a thing even be possible? As far as you can recall, you’ve stumbled across nothing in Hyrule or its history that hints at mortals being able to ascend to divinity.

“Fierce, how… is that even… I-”

“You need not stress, dearest. The process has already begun and you’re fairing quite fine so far,” Fierce smiles.

What?!

You nearly leap out of the tub and scramble across the ground. Your wild dreams of escape are shattered as Fierce quickly wrangles you into his hold and attempts to calm you down. He even tries to send calming and relaxing sensations across the bond but it does little to soothe your frantic mind. Not only that, but you managed to get to a point in the forest where there was more moonlight. The pale light illuminated your bare skin and it only showed red. Red, red, red, red, red.

It’s blood. You had been soaking in blood.

By some miracle, you managed to not upheave tonight’s meal. That didn’t stop you from kicking and screaming to get away from Fierce. Unlike times before when he had crossed a line, Fierce showed no sign of backing off. He kept you pinned to the ground and simply took any blow you sent his way head on. It was simply a matter of letting you tire yourself out.

“Shh… it’s okay, you’ll be fine, (Name),” Fierce hushed as he pressed the side of your head against his chest. His heart beat was slow and steady like a bass drum. It contrasted the never ceasing allegro of your own heart and you worried that, at this rate, you’d end up fainting.

After quickly adjusting his embrace around you, Fierce lifts you up and carries your body to the next destination of this “date night”. Your kicks had lost their wind and had become little more than wiping your foot against him. You try to look at anything but the red ick still clinging to you or Fierce. Vaguely, standing just above the tree line and nearing the horizon lines, were the tallest towers on Hyrule Castle. It was so far away that you couldn’t really see the flags mounted on their peaks flapping in the breeze nor would anyone there be capable of hearing the loudest scream you could make (would anyone even come to your rescue if they heard you? Who in their right minds would think to try and fight against a god?)

Something cold and hard presses against your back. Your view shifts as Fierce lays you down on stone and quickly goes about securing your arms and legs. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s laid you flat on an altar. What ritual he had planned was for him to know and for you to cruelly find out.

“I’ve never wanted to hurt you before and I still don’t. I will never feel the urge to harm you but… I have to do this. If I don’t, then you’ll become victim to your mortality and I’ll be left alone. I can’t exist without you anymore, (Name)... I can’t,” Fierce whines and that sadness from earlier crashes over you again. Your thoughts turn to the darkest possibilities given your current state, but things are made abundantly clear when a hidden dagger is pulled from beneath the god’s linens.

You’ve never seen a dagger that looked so ritualistic before. It’s blade was carved and sharpened from the tooth of a beast and runes or words of a language you couldn’t read were etched into the blade. Its handle was made from stained and wrapped leather that had a few brilliant feathers bound in it. For the first time since properly meeting him, you could see Fierce’s hand shake as he poised the blade.

“I think… you’re ready. You’ve been strengthened enough to take my blood tonight. You’ve drank, ate, and bathed in my essence. Now, it is time for it to enter your veins- raw and unfiltered,” Fierce muttered. With care and precision, the blade was brought to your skin. Enough pressure was applied so that it began to cut through the layers of your skin. He stopped just shy of your sternum and began to pull the blade down the length of your torso. It was a slow and agonizing pain you couldn’t describe so you only screamed. You screamed and screamed and screamed. You fought against the bindings that held you but it was to no avail.

The blade finally stopped just past your pectorals before pulling away. Fierce laid the blade against his hand and sliced in deep. A small sputter of blood spattered out as a result and it feels like fire when it makes contact to your open wound. The pain is only amplified tenfold when Fierce presses his cut palm down on the slash of your chest. Your voice raises to an octave you didn’t know was possible as what feels akin to liquid fire begins to spread through your chest. This is only worsened by the icy sting of sadness and despair as Fierce struggles to keep a lid on his own emotions. You can see his lips moving and know he’s mumbling something but you can’t tell if it’s some kind of mantra to complete the ritual or a shoddy attempt at keeping himself calm.

As his blood spreads out further and further, you find that the world is becoming more and more incoherent. Black spots smudge your vision and static feels your ears. Fierce’s face, contorted into so much pain and anguish, is the last thing you see before passing out.

Your mind feels as though it’s drifting around on the inky waters of unconsciousness. Even though this feeling is unknown to you and you don’t know what awaits you when- if you wake up, you feel peaceful. There is no pain to feel and no sights to disturb you. All you sense is your body drifting along and the occasional noise. The noise is that of someone speaking or shouting or crying- you can’t tell. It’s so distant and sounds as if it’s underwater. It’s like a siren call that plays on your curiosity and empathy to open your eyes. To wake up and investigate or comfort whoever it is that’s calling for you.

“...p… wa… up…”

Perhaps you weren’t unconscious. Maybe you were dead? It’s possible given the… trauma? That you just went through? (What happened? The pain the pain the pain the pain the pain the pain It’s all gotten so blurry? Golden Three preserve me save me)

“Ple…. wake… please, (Na… up…”

Were you now drifting down the River Styx? Maybe, maybe not. It had always been portrayed as hellish and depressing, but you felt so peaceful. Maybe Hyrule just had a nicer one that home did.

“Golden Three, please… pray that they… return them to… give me back my…”

Hmm… the waters were beginning to feel a little choppy. Were you finally arriving at your destination? Whatever that meant…

“(Name), please! COME BACK TO ME!”

Your eyes snapped open as breath returned to your lungs. You were stuck staring straight up at the inky abyss above you. Somehow, the night sky was now bespeckled with glittering stars and you could better make out the twisting and mixing nebulas of color.

Your head lolled to the side and you saw that Fierce had devolved into the dictionary definition of a mess. Tears streamed down his cheeks and smears of red were all over him. His hair was bunched up and knotted- no doubt from him pulling and tearing at his own hair. Heavy and harsh breaths racked his frame as he was nearly hunched over your body. His stillness was enough to convince you he had turned to stone until his entire body seemed to go lax. He toppled over and landed across your bare skin but neither you nor he cared much about that at the moment.

“You came back… you came back…” He gargled out. His voice, once deep and smooth, was now crackly. He buried his face against your body to hide his expressions from you as he clung to you like a child to their blankie.

“What… happened?” You finally croaked out as you took in your surroundings. Everything was so… sharp. In focus. You could make out the the individual veins on the leaves of nearby trees. You could see dew beginning to form on grass a distance away from where you were laying. Fluttering high above the trees, you could also see the flying and swooping forms of bats. Its like you were looking at everything through the lens of a telescope.

A metallic rattle then click alerts you to the shackles (when did those get there?) on your wrists. Fierce had managed to get up and was working on getting you freed from them. Once unbound, he wasted no time in scooping you up and hurrying through the forest. You gripped onto him as tightly as you could before you felt him come to an abrupt stop. Icy cold water was splashed over your body and Fierce used his shirt to wipe you off. The shirt was quickly stained red and you hadn’t realized you were positively coated in dried blood.

As your skin was cleared of the red ichor, you realized that your chest looked rather weird. The skin was scarred but the scar itself was strange. It was a thin but long and straight line down your chest. It wasn’t your skin’s natural color, but silver like it was made of metal. Feeling it confirmed that it was still your skin and nothing else.

You turn your head upwards to ask Fierce a question but not even a word gets the chance to fall from your lips as Fierce kisses you desperately. Romance and love aren’t the present emotions to be felt in the kiss- it’s despair and relief all wrapped up in an overwhelming amount of guilt. The kiss lasts long enough that you eventually have to claw at Fierce’s chest to push him away. Sweet air flies back into your lungs and you’re left huffing and puffing yet again.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Fierce whispers as he hangs his head low. You knew he was apologizing for more than just the rather crude kiss, but your brain was in a fog. You still couldn’t place what had happened for him to be so distraught.

“I remember… eating? Yeah, we were eating in the forest and then you took me somewhere. I was soaking in… in something but after that… everything’s a blur…” You mumbled out and massaged a sudden ache in your temples. Trying to remember what happened, even if it was only a small detail, made your head pound.

“I…” Fierce starts to speak but stops himself. Amongst the whirlpool of emotions in his eyes and bubbling behind the currently closed doors of the bond, you could see that Fierce was thinking. He was thinking about how to phrase his next words carefully. It was odd behavior coming from him given that he preferred to be bluntly honest. “It… doesn’t matter anymore. Things spiraled out of control for a moment but… but everything is okay now. I promise.”

It didn’t exactly feel like a lie (It is it is it is run run run run no longer trust him, don’t love him, stop listening to him, stop) but it wasn’t the truth. Whatever happened had scared Fierce- a man you once thought incapable of feeling fear. Because of that reason alone, you took his word.

“Let’s get back to the castle before the boys or the princess start to wake up,” You state as you try to take control of the situation. It works as Fierce nods and stands up. He lets you stand on your own two feet while he runs off to go get something. After a minute, he returns with your night clothes in hand. He doesn’t speak up or do anything as you get dressed. Once it’s time to start heading back, he doesn’t pick you up but rather walks alongside you, hand in hand.

The small yet noticeable deviations in Fierce’s habits made it clear he was still in some state of shock. You didn’t know what to do to snap him out of it or if you should just let it run its course. You decide on simply intertwining your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know that you’re here and you’re okay (no no no no no no no don’t do that, don’t encourage him, it makes things worse, so so so so much worse).

“(Na… (Name)?” Fierce whispers out. His tone makes him sound like a distraught child wanting to call out to their parent or older sibling. It’s fear and hurt ready to break past the dam that’s barely holding it in.

“Yes, honey?” You hum and give him a small smile.

“You’re… here, right?” Fierce asks. The snarky part of you wants to scoff at the question but you understand that now’s not the time for that.

“Yes. I’m right here,” You confirm and squeeze his hand again.

“You… won’t… ever leave me, will you? I don’t want to be alone again,” Fierce mumbles. Your heart clenches (no, don’t, don’t feel sympathy for the monster) as it’s clear Fierce is thinking back to the time he was trapped in the mask. No doubt being left along for decades, if not centuries, between wielders left him with a fear of abandonment. God of war he may be, it didn’t mean he wasn’t (a monster, a torturer, a villain) without feeling.

“I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you or the boys. You’ve all been through so much and deserve some kindness after all of the cruelty,” You claim, your voice stern and firm much like the statement itself.

“You… love me? You love me, right?” Fierce finally asks the question that had been brewing in his chest. His eyes, ever the window to his soul, showed all. The searching, the yearning, the despair, the anguish, the fear, the worry, the sadness, the hopefulness, the happiness, and the love (the insanity, the madness, the darkness).

“Fierce, I… yes… yes, I do love you,” You admit. It was true (no it wasn’t). Perhaps it was because he never gave up on you despite how conflicted you felt. He waited and was there for you every step of the way without even having to ask. It may have been intense, it may have a bumpy ride, but you were here now. Here with your hand in his and with a clear mind (it’s all so warped and foggy, he won’t let me think straight).

“Will you love me for eternity?” Fierce inquires. His tone is a bit lighter now, as are his eyes. It’s as if the increasing weight of the world was finally lifted off his shoulders. He was still patiently waiting for your answer.

“Hmm…”

Don’t say it…

“Eternity is a long time, honey…”

Eternity is forever, I’ll be trapped with him forever…

“But…”

No, please…

“Yes, Fierce…”

No… no…

“I will love you for eternity.”

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere lu #yandere lu x reader #yandere lu fierce deity #yandere lu fierce deity x reader

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