#because this has been bothering me for a while | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melonn-soda · 1 day

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❝GIDDY UP & GO!!... ❞

word count: 3.3k

warnings: subbot! male reader, domtop! boothill, genitals are not explicitly mentioned, grinding, no actual penetration, unnecessary descriptions how much there is of spit (sorry if ur not into that), predator/prey if u squint, nd gunplay if u squint really really hard (is implied), lots of pentnames, praise, save a horse ride a cowboy but I change a factor, cowboy hat rule because RRGHGHGRHRGHHGHGHG

prompt: boothill has made it his life mission to cash in the money he gets when he lands you behind bars. however, when it becomes apparent as to why you let him pursue you, he begins to chase you for an entirely different reason

notes: lost 50/50 to yanqing (he's still my kid nd I love him regardless YANQING HATERS LEAVE!!!!) when wishing for aventurine. now I'm pulling for boothill if I don't get my little gambler (if Sunday is playable and better than boothill then im sorry to my fav cowboy yeehaw) not beta read

fem aligned dni

“Oh, my.”

Boothill hates your guts. That’s a given.

He hates the way you carry yourself, the sly remarks you’ll make if you spot even one hint of insecurity, the slight draw on certain syllables to give a mocking tone- you, in general. Although he’s more on the bothering side than the bothered, you’re just so much more annoying than he thought even possible. Guess that’s why you’re known as a high-end bandit.

He’s been on your tail for weeks, chasing any leads (a lot of them, like you wanted the chase) he could get his hands on. He’s even seen you slinking around taverns, poker tables, run-down hotels- for fucks’ sake, even on horseback racing down a dirt path while attempting to rob a moving train. To feel the satisfaction of seeing the credits Boothill would obtain after putting you behind bars is all he wants to experience because this is just getting ridiculous.

So, why the hell now, is he bound up to the ceiling with chains thicker than his own ankle after finding your base?

The amused smile finds its way upon your lips and Boothill wants to do nothing more than to kick it right off. You were in a vulnerable position before he decided to sneak in, with your chair tipped as your feet were kicked up on a busted wooden table, a bandana resting over your eyes to block out the sunlight that dared to drift into the room. Boothill made the dumbest mistake by alerting you of his presence through triggering a well hidden trip-wire. Perking you up, you began to rise from your seat, swiftly removing the bandana from your eyes and fingers instinctively on the handle of your revolver that sat on the gun holster strapped to your thigh. The trap triggered so fast, Boothill’s sensors barely had time to react to it before the ‘snap!’s and ‘crack!’s echoed throughout the room and he was pressed against the ceiling within seconds.

Sharp glares were stabbing through your form as your hand rested on your hip as you whistled, looking up at the ranger in slight surprise and smugness. Aeons, he hated you.

“Wow, such a reckless move to jus’ prance yer way in here, no? Hey, aren't cha a Galaxy Ranger or somethin’?” You tease, swiveling your chair so that you could sit backwards on it, crossing your arms atop of the back rest so you could rest your chin on your forearms, “Surely, ya coulda suspected that I woulda set up a trap. But why waste all yer precious time on someone as measly as me? I ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ ol’ bandit.”

“You better seal yer pretty lil’ lips, doll.” Boothill hisses at you, his voicebank glitching to censor the words he so desperately wanted to say, “My bullets don’t take too kindly to sweet talkers n’ foxes.”

A laugh echoes throughout the falling apart structure then settles into a hum as you stand up and kick the chair against the wall, “Ya sure like to talk big. Kinda fits ya, though.” The chair slams right under Boothill and you slowly make your way towards it, the clinking of spurs on your boots highlighting every step you take.

Looking up at the suspended robot, your left foot raises and rests on the seat, leaning in to provoke the cyborg even further, “It’s kinda cute how ya keep pursuin’ me despite all these failed attempts. How ‘bout I give ya more of a reason to keep chasin’ me than only doin’ it for jus’ the credits?”

Boothill’s eyebrows creased in suspicion as your hand raises up to his face, contemplating just biting your fingers straight off until he hears the click of the safety and a metal barrel against the human skin of his jaw. His teeth clench in anger as you nearly laugh at his compliance, reaching above his head and snatching his hat right off.

Oh, he was going to kill you for sure-

The hat plops onto your head and you wink at him while sticking your tongue out.

What.

There wasn’t-

There was no way.

“Catch me if ya can, cowboy.” You say dismissively, briskly turning around and walking out of the rundown hideout. However, before you could get out of his line of sight, your head turned to face him and you said, “I’ll be waitin’. As always.”

Dumbfounded and a half an hour later collapsed on the floor from the wooden boards snapping- which loosened the chains, he replays that minute over and over again. He didn’t want to believe that had actually happened but his memory told him otherwise.

There was no way that you...

Whatever. He’ll think about it later. He needs to get his damn hat back.

The first time Boothill finds you, it’s in a more forest-y area. You’re on your trusty steed, talking to some other criminals with little interest. The cowboy watches the interaction, paying special attention to your reactions to see if you’ve noticed his presence. From what he could tell, you didn’t seem to see that he was watching while using the shrubbery to cover him and the horse he was on. The people you were talking to he recognized from some wanted posters, only worth some credits. Not as much as your bounty, though.

...

...You’re still wearing his hat.

“Look, partner,” Your voice dips into an exhausted, low, sigh, “I need that shipment as soon as possible, ya hear? I ain’t got too much time left before she’s reached her time. Ion care how ya get it, I need it in at least a week! Otherwise she’ll get real snappy and I’m gonna hafta put some lead in some poor person's head.”

One of the bandits flashes a worried look to another, “Boss, ya don’t understand! The Xianshou Luofu’s been havin’ sum sorta delay! We ain’t gonna get those packages ‘til some long period of time!”

Boothill’s interest peaks as you begin to snap, “Did ya not hear me? I said, ‘Ion care how ya get them!’ Find a way! Talk to that Trailblazer everyone’s been praisin’ about or somethin’! Jus’ get me my stuff before ‘m gonna start blowin’ some brains out-”

A rustle causes you to pause your sentence as you draw your weapon immediately, the barrel facing his direction and bullets fly. Boothill’s horse had begun to munch on the bush, which gave away his position, but thankfully he moved quick enough to get out of the way.

You decided to book it when you caught sight of the familiar white and black hair, spurs hitting the sides of your horse as you begin to get out of the area to leave nothing but a trail of dust. Boothill doesn’t hesitate to race after you, whipping the reins of his horse to get her going.

Branches and twigs tug at Boothill’s hair as he chases you through the forest, lowering his torso so that he could lessen the wind resistance as his horse’s hooves slam against the ground. You’re quite the distance away, mostly because your horse is pretty speedy. It’s how you get away from crime scenes so fast. However, Nellie, the horse Boothill is riding currently, is also quite fast.

Although, not fast enough because in the end, he still loses you.

The curses he spits all get censored immediately as he slows into a stop, head turning in every direction to see if you left any trail behind. Only to see none. Didn’t expect as much from a skilled criminal.

The second time he spots you is in the tavern, playing a game of poker with people that had their pockets stuffed full of cash. ‘Rich folk,’ Boothill grimaces as he could see them tilt their chin up like the world owes them something. If you rob them, he won’t feel even a sliver of remorse.

He knows that you can see him as he leans against the wall to watch the match, some of the rich getting intensively frustrated as they begin to fold after betting so high. Judging by the scheming smile on your face, he could tell you have a winning hand. Then again, when are you never smiling like you have something up your sleeve?

Finally, in the showdown, you and the person you’re going up against reveal your cards and you win with a four of a kind. Lucky.

The people at the table groan and push their chips in your direction, getting up to leave as their attitudes have just been soured over that singular match. Boothill takes the opportunity to walk over to you and remove the gun from his holster and press it right up against your lower back, hand coming up to snatch his hat that rests atop your head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A window shatters behind him and he could hear flames begin to roar but he doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from you. Only when he feels cold metal press against the nape of his neck does his actions falter and his eyes turn to face whoever decided to draw their weapon.

He blinks in shock to see a figure completely made of water, his gaze returning to you and seeing you sitting on the edge of the table with your gun pressed against his forehead. Shit. He’s lost again.

The tavern completely surrenders to the flames as people scream at the sight of fire, swallowing up the alcohol and wood. Boothill can hear his fans whirring to prevent himself from overheating but the attempt is futile as the room begins to get unbearably hot. He’s not sure if it’s just the fire that’s causing him to overheat or it’s because you look insanely good with all this red and orange light.

...

What is he even thinking right now?

“Y’know, it’s gettin’ real fun toyin’ with ya, cowboy.” You speak, completely unbothered by all the heat in the building. He can’t even see a single drop of sweat on your face. Even so, you continue, “But I think ya can do a little better than this.”

The ranger’s lips purse in offense, glaring at you as best as he could. The gun you had pointed lazily at his forehead falls to the floor and Boothill isn’t sure how long he can last in this heat. Before his system could finally shut down because of overheating, he could feel your lips press against the area where your gun was pressed up against. Then, he falls over as his system forcibly turns him off.

The third time Boothill sees you, he’s lying on a metal workbench with cold water floating above him and fans blowing in his direction. He’s confused, obviously, and on his toes as he realizes he’s not in an area he’s not familiar with. He attempts to sit up to find a way to escape only to realize that he can’t move his arm. Now, he’s terrified.

“Relax, cowboy.” Your voice coos from behind a computer, typing away at something as you're taking a tip from a glass. Presumably water. “I’m cooling ya off. You’re welcome... You should be able to move now.”

Boothill shoots up from his spot and rips off the cables that are attached to his left arm, head darting around to look for his gun. He hears a click and once again finds himself with a gun pressed up against his jaw.

“Lookin’ for this?”

The crosshair that replaces his once human pupils flit over to your direction, noticing that you were holding his revolver in your dominant hand. Boothill swears that you must like pointing a barrel in his direction for how many times this has been done. He also sees that you’re wearing his very cropped jacket over your usual attire. ... And you’re still wearing his hat.

“That’s mine, pretty boy.” The ranger gives you a half-assed growl as his censor kicks in once more, already getting annoyed at your sly behaviour, “Ya really got a knack for takin’ stuff that’s not yours, huh? No wonder yer a criminal.”

You giggle at his words, tossing his gun on the metal workbench, “It’s not loaded, neither is your little gun hand.” You tell him, like he was going to start unloading mags into your skin. Turning around, you walk back to your computer and open up a drawer on the desk it sits on, “Well?” You ask after a momentary silence, leaning on one of your legs as you crack open a bottle of whiskey and begin to pour it into your empty glass.

“‘Well’, what?” Boothill narrows his eyes at you, picking up his revolver and shoving it back into his thigh holster. He’ll just have to go to the nearest mechant and buy more bullets.

“Ain’t ya gonna, I don’t know, take yer hat back?” You ask him, taking a sip of the alcohol that gives a slight burn down your throat, “We’re in an enclosed space, barely any room t’move around, exit’s right behind ya ‘n all. Perfect chance t’arrest me, if I dare so say m’self.”

He blinks. There’s got to be some sort of trap if the setup is this perfect. He’s not going to make the same mistake he did before, not again. So, his sensors scan the room quickly, which leaves you unamused, and he sees that there are in fact no traps in this room. Boothill almost doesn’t want to believe it.

“Are ya playin’ some sort of game with me?” Boothill’s eyes begin to squint in suspicion, carefully trying to think of a situation you might pull that puts him on the losing end of the stick, “Yer jus’ gonna let yourself get arrested? Jus’ like that?”

“What? Ya don’t wanna do it? Too scared?” You taunt him again, causing the cowboy’s circuits to boil in animosity.

“Ya know what?” Boothill smiles a tense one, taking long, menacing steps in your direction, “I’ve ‘bout had it with your attitude, pretty boy. Seems like ya didn’t have anybody ta teach ya proper manners.” All of a sudden, you felt yourself being slammed up against the wall behind you with a grunt, Boothill’s right hand keeping your wrists together and his left hand tilting your chin up to look at him, his eyes glowing a dangerous red, “I mean, after that stunt ya pulled in yer lil’ base, it seems like ya wanna be caught by me.”

“Hah.. guilty as charged.” You laugh, attempting to keep your smooth facade up, only for it to crack once you could feel his metal knee nudge between your thighs. A whine rips through your throat as he keeps his knee still, not bothering to give you the pleasure you oh so wanted from the day you saw him.

“How ‘bout it, doll?” Boothill sneers at your pathetic expression, lips getting dangerously close to yours, “I can give ya a better punishment than jail could.”

One thing’s for sure: Boothill’s mechanical body does not have any built in... pleasure devices, he’s nearly as smooth as a doll. However, there is a slightly large bump on his pelvis in the shape of an oval that if you were to grind just right up against, you’ll-

“O-oh!”

Boothill’s lips curve up into a smirk as he sees you push down hard against his metallic form, trying to settle your trembles by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to stabilize yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, seeing you all desperate for sexual relief. The way you hopelessly cling to him like he’s the last thing keeping you alive. He can’t believe he actually thought about putting you behind bars if getting you wrapped around his finger was this satisfying.

“How’s it feel, pretty boy?” Boothill whispers in your ear, causing a shiver to rack your spine as his grip adjusts to settle on your lower waist, pushing you even further against him, “Feel like yer gonna explode yet?”

Whimpering in response, your shaky fingertips grip onto his shoulders as your forehead now presses against his. Soft pants fill the room and Boothill can practically see the hearts in your eyes as your hips continue to move against his. You both still have your clothes on but this all still feels so intimate, probably better than actual penetration.

The ranger’s hand reaches up to tug his hat that still rests on your head, fixing it back from its tilted state, “Ya look like ya wanna kiss, doll.” He teases, bringing your chin closer to the point where your noses brushed up against one another.

“Pl-please..” You say breathily, gently tugging at his hair.

“Attaboy.” Boothill snickers in response, “Looks like yer finally learning.” His freakishly long tongue slithers past his lips as soon as they press against yours, slipping into your mouth as saliva begins to spill down your chin. Aeons, you’re just so cute.

Soft moans are swallowed up by Boothill’s greedy mouth, his thumb coming up to pull against your bottom lip before he pulls away and the only thing that connects your mouths is the thin trail of spit. His robotic thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as drool continues to spill down your pretty lips. He could get used to this.

He notices how much faster your hips move, calculating that you were close as whines and whimpers flood the room. The smile on Boothill’s face only widens even further, bumping his hips up to catch you off guard. He knows he succeeds when he hears a shaky squeak come from your mouth.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Ya gonna bust?” The ranger sneers, the thumb in your mouth shifting so he widens your lips by pushing at the sides, “Y’know, I could easily deny ya of that relief. Ya kinda deserve it for teasin’ me this whole time.”

You shake your head violently, already too close to be pulled away now. Boothill snickers in response, “No? What makes ya think you can tell me what to do?” A pleading look flashes across your features and Boothill has half the decency to make you beg for release. He decides to have mercy on you, though, “Mmmn, I mean, I guess ya have been pretty obedient. Go on and blow yer load f’me, pretty.”

With a shudder and a slight bite on Boothill’s metal thumb, your pants get soaked in your fluids, staining the fabric. Your hips jerk a couple of times to ride out your orgasm then you started slumping onto his chest in exhaustion. Boothill’s other hand rubs at your hip to soothe you, letting you rest in place to calm the trembles that still cause your body to twitch in overstimulation.

“Good boy.” He says softly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, watching as it dripped since it was slick with your spit. Letting you catch your breath for a moment, he waits before he decides to ask, “So, what package were ya waitin’ for?”

“Baby stuff.” You sigh, face burying into Boothill’s neck, “My sister’s expecting ‘nd her wife’s been tellin’ me to get that stuff as soon as possible. The Luofu has been delaying their packages for a bit, somethin’ about shippin’ difficulties. Can’t believe ya’d remember something like that, though.”

The cowboy huffs in response, “Bein’ a cyborg’s got some perks. The only bad part is that ion got a dick to fuck ya with. Woulda been nice to see ya unable to walk for a few days.”

You sit up and give him a weird look, hands resting on his shoulders, “Ya do know strap-ons exist, right?” The way you said that made him feel much stupider, like you were pointing out the obvious to him.

“...Oh.” Boothill’s face flushes embarrassingly hot as his fans kick in once more.

Aeons, he hated you.

#x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader

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blueywrites · 2 days

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'cause I ain't had nobody hit it like you hit it (2/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part one here.

3.6k

cw: 18+. smut, references to hard drug use, unprotected piv, situationship becoming something more, shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, eddie embarrasses the fuck out of reader but don't get it twisted, he's down bad, no y/n, no physical descriptors

an: sorry for leaving y'all on that little cliffie in the first part. I hope this makes up for it! 😉 also, make sure you check out the fanart if you haven't already - there are some specific allusions to it in this part, and it'll enhance the experience if you've checked it out. accreditation: I attribute those clever details to the very talented artist 🩵

now, enjoy the utter filth! xx

The sound is a bucket of ice water down your spine. Your back stiffens ramrod straight as your grasping fingers find the front of Eddie’s tank, fisting it up tight in a startled search for comfort. Eddie separates his lips from yours with a loud click, an annoyed frown already marring his brow as he cranes his neck to look around you toward the closed door. When the knocks come again in quick succession, there’s a split second you think he will tell you to get off him, and your stomach swoops with something just short of devastation. But Eddie doesn’t even bother asking who it is; he keeps cupping your cheek even as he barks harshly, "Busy, man. Go take a walk, come back in ten minutes."

After a brief pause, you hear the creak of wood followed by the plodding steps of whomever had come calling descending the porch stairs. It’s somewhat of a relief, but the interruption has disturbed the haze you’d fallen into. You almost want to ask who that was, if Eddie’d been expecting any visitors or customers other than you, but you bite your tongue, not wanting to dampen the mood between you two even farther. As your heart keeps racing while you attempt to regain your composure, your eyes search his face. They flit about before being captured by deep brown, ensnared by the look he’s leveling you with. Eddie’s gaze bores into yours, dark with longing and mischief as if he’s daring you to defy him.

As if he can see through your eyes straight down to your soul and all that it longs for.

The tension returns in an instant— sticky and hot as your thighs flex around Eddie’s hips, and the subtle shift reminds you he’s still buried inside. Your desire for him simmers like an ache low in your belly, plaintive and wanting. And he must read that on you, because despite the clock ticking down the seconds until his visitor returns, Eddie just has to tease you.

"Yeah?" His voice is a low whisper, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. "S’like that, huh? You want me to make you cum now?" He glances up at the wall behind him, drawing your eyes to a row of scrawled lines— a tallied record of the pleasure he gives. It’s yet another way he’s found to rile you up, a reminder displayed in a place you can’t help but see every time you visit him. "And you think you’ve earned another tally?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze again. "Need it, Ed..." you whisper, your heartbeat rabbit-fast at the prospect of him really giving it to you.

His smirk widens, a flash of smug satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Aww, baby needs it so bad," he teases, his tone laced with mock sympathy before it darkens. "You're such a fuckin' whore. But only for me, right?"

A heady mix of desire and shame courses through you, slinking through your veins, burning you up inside. Because, for all intents and purposes, he’s right: you are a whore, giving yourself to your dealer like this. And this thing between you and Eddie may be more than that to you— may be more to him, too, though you don’t know for sure— but on the surface, that’s exactly what you are. A whore, only for him.

It’s demeaning and nasty and so fucking arousing all at once.

"Mhmm." A strangled hum of agreement is the most you can manage through your mortification. Even so, you know that won’t be enough for Eddie.

"Tell me," he demands, his voice a low growl that makes your pussy flutter around him; his fingers tighten on your hip, blunt nails biting in, dimpling your softness. His expression doesn’t change, but you know he likes being able to affect you with just the sound of his voice and the things he makes you say.

"I-I'm a whore for you, Eddie..." you admit, forcing out the words though they make your face positively burn. "I'm your whore—"

His hand crawls into your hair, pulling you back, and you moan as your neck stretches tight. "That's fuckin' right," he says, licking up your throat. You gasp and tremble. "My good little whore."

The teasing is becoming too much; you’re so turned on, you’re nearly beside yourself. You need to move; need him to move. "Please," you cry, whiny and pathetic, your eyes prickling with frustrated tears.

It’s all part of the game, of course-- his casual dominance, your needy desperation. But a harsh exhale against your chin shows that Eddie isn’t as unaffected as he wants to appear. Without ceremony, the still-smoldering joint, only half smoked, is ground out against the edge of the wooden coffee table and dropped into an old bottle. With both hands now free, Eddie pulls you into his chest, his grip firm and possessive, his palms spanning great swaths of your back and his fingers stretched wide.

Low and husky, he murmurs, "Hold on now, kitten.”

Hastily, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hands dip, dragging down until his fingers dig into your bare ass cheeks. You moan quietly at the rough neediness in the gesture as he manhandles you up so he can slide himself down further on the couch, planting his feet wide on the carpet, his dark jeans and checked boxers pulling taut just above his knees. He’s still stretching you out on his dick, and you bite your lip at the duality of feeling: the dull pain where your skin dimples under his hands, the low pulse of pleasure as his shifting presses him deeper into you.

You’re anticipating it, and still you choke on a gasp as Eddie uses his grip to slam you down onto his lap just as he thrusts up into you hard— once, twice, again, quickly setting a brutal pace that, if you weren’t so wet for him, would ache in quite a different way. As it is, this ache is exactly what you need— bruises on your ass from his blunt fingertips, burns on your knees from the scratchy cushions, and the battering of Eddie’s cock bullying deep into your pussy, making you feel so fucking good.

He grunts as you dig your nails into the sturdy, smooth lines of his shoulders, holding onto him tight; you bury your whimpers in his neck, the sound muffled by the heat of his skin as he pounds into you with dizzying ferocity. But that just won’t do, because Eddie wants to see you— wants to see the way he wrecks you. Briefly, one hand leaves your ass to pull you back by the scruff of your neck. You whimper as you lose your hiding place but you don’t fight him, obeying despite the desire to burrow away from his discerning stare.

"Just needed my dick all the way inside you, stretching this wet little hole out, didn’t you." Eddie chuckles, his gaze burning into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, hitching with every bounce of his thighs against your ass. "I know you did. You’re always so fuckin’ desperate for it."

You shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze, the heat rising to your cheeks as you try to avert your eyes, but you know he sees right through you. Every movement, every glance, every subtle shift of your body betrays the desire that burns within you.

Mercifully— or maybe unmercifully— Eddie goes on without expecting a response. "Comin’ over here, wearing your tiny little shorts, sittin’ on my couch, staring at me when you think I don’t see," he continues, his voice a low rumble that makes your scalp tighten as he leans in and murmurs in your ear. “No one else is givin’ it to you as good as me, huh? That why you gotta beg me for it?” As he mocks you, you squirm in his grip, embarrassed even as your pussy squeezes tight, your body betraying you with its unrelenting arousal.

"Shit, you feel so fuckin’ good," Eddie mutters quietly against your cheek. "Love your little pussy."

You go boneless on him as the embarrassment mixes with adoration. You tuck your face against his neck again, and this time, it’s not to hide. Your hands snake down his tank to claw at his back, nails dragging lines across his skin as you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over his throat, lavishing him with the depth of your feeling. His words vibrate under your lips. “That’s right, just like that. I gotcha. My pliant little fuckdoll.”

"Oh," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper as you surrender yourself to him completely. "Fuck—"

"Could do anything to you, hm?" Eddie rasps, never faltering in his pace as he fucks up into you.

As your breasts rub against his clothed chest, your hard nipples quickly become oversensitized by the friction, spurring you to meet him thrust for thrust. "Yeah, yeah," you gasp, your voice trembling with need, nearly overwhelmed by his words and the feeling of his fat tip kissing that spot inside. He’s working you so quickly at this angle that you nearly see stars. "Whatever y’want,” you slur, well on your way to being cock drunk. “M’your good girl, Eddie."

He chuckles, amused and fond. "That’s why you get the free ride, babe,” he tells you. "Cause you’re just so good."

There is no deliberate thought driving you anymore, just instinct as you ride him with abandon— tits shaking, ass rippling, head thrown back, mouth open, fists in his hair, drool on your chin, arousal leaking onto his thighs. Your lashes flutter, eyes half rolled back as you start to ascend.

“Jesus Christ, I swear, you’re—” Eddie pauses, swallowing harshly, like he’s gulping back what he almost said. “You’re so sexy like this,” he rasps finally, breath ragged, biting his lip when you throw it down harder on him. “So sexy. All mine.”

My whore. My fuckdoll. Mine, mine, mine. That sentiment makes you bold. You summon all your faculties to pull your face back from his neck and tip your head coquettishly, looking down at Eddie like you own him and not the other way around.

“Yeah, baby?” It’s a little breathless with effort, but still, you manage to sound sultry in a way you almost do not recognize. “You like that?”

Eddie’s pupils blow wide. He chuckles breathlessly, but he doesn’t look amused. “Go’n, fuck me,” he grits out, and his eyes are pitch black with desire, but as you keep looking down at him, there’s a flash of something else— something more akin to awe. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

And you do, more than you ever have before. The room collapses to nothing but the slapping of skin on skin— furious, sweaty, gasping plunges downward met with equally sharp upward thrusts that gradually have him sinking lower on the couch. By the time Eddie’s ass slips to the edge of the cushion, you’re slumped over him, hands squishing up his cheeks, lips mashed together, kissing like you need him to live. Each time he punches in, you keen like a wild animal, the sound garbled and mixed with his low, rasping whines. There’s salt in your mouth and you don’t know whose sweat it is, his or yours. Eddie’s breath puffs from his nose like he’s sprinting for his life; one of his damp curls tacks to your cheek as your bodies writhe together all slick, sticky, wet. You’re fucking each other so hard it almost hurts—

And then it does hurt, because on your next desperate bounce, Eddie’s ass slips off the couch, toppling you both to the floor.

Buzzing with adrenaline and on the knife’s edge of your orgasm, the fall only radiates dull pain for a moment before you’re over it. You lift your face from the carpet to see Eddie’s head all wedged up at an angle against the couch’s leg, his arms splayed, legs still caught in his pants and boxers like he’d tripped taking a piss or something. Your eyes hone in on his cock— wobbling in the air, flushed and slick with you down to the matted-curl base, miraculously still hard and, most importantly, entirely unharmed.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie groans, his face contorted in a pained wince. If you weren’t so close to cumming, you’d ask him if he was okay, but as it is, your only thought is to crawl on top of him and hastily throw your leg over his hip. Before he can even blink, you’ve impaled yourself on his cock, engulfing him in the heat of your throbbing pussy with a filthy, wet squelch.

“Oh, fuck!” It’s a ragged moan this time as his mouth falls open, the cords of his neck pulling tight on an even more strangled sound as you go right back to fucking him like he asked you— like you mean it.

Pleasure returns in an even more potent swell as you consider how feral it is that you and Eddie are now fucking on the floor like animals. You’re making sounds of pained ecstasy, punching them out of yourself as you slam down on him until he’s hitting so deep you can feel it in the back of your throat. Your muscles are quivering, burning with effort, so much so that you can’t help but collapse forward, bracing your forearm against the edge of the couch cushion. You whimper as the move changes the angle, dulling your pleasure, but you can’t find the strength to hoist yourself back up while still chasing your orgasm— and you need to cum so badly now that you want to fucking cry.

But Eddie’s got you. When you slip, he’s there the next moment tilting his hips, matching you thrust for thrust, hooking an arm around your back and pressing his forehead against your sternum. His skin is hot, sweaty and tacky, and his breath huffs ragged over your bouncing chest for a moment before he presses his face into the plush curve of your breast.

And then you hear it: Eddie’s voice breaking as he moans out your name against your skin.

Dizzying flutters burst in your chest just as pleasure twists violently in your belly, a throbbing ache you can feel pressing at your walls, clawing its way up to break the surface inside you. You heave a tight sob as you cum, back arched, neck straining, consumed whole by the intensity of the feeling. Distantly, as if through a tunnel, you register a brief flare of pain; your spasming pussy clenches around Eddie’s kicking length as the pleasure peaks at the sensation, breaking in waves that gradually gentle and then finally ease. And it’s when you collapse weakly against Eddie’s chest, quivering as his arms fold around your back, that you realize the pain you felt was Eddie’s teeth sinking into your breast as he came with you.

When you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you're both still breathing fast, Eddie's bare arms bunching up your disheveled tank and sticking to your lower back as he holds you, panting into your mouth. "Shit," he mutters, chuckling under his breath. "That was..."

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but you understand his meaning. It was really fucking good— better than usual. And maybe it was because there was a thrill in trying to finish before his visitor returned, but maybe... maybe it was more than that.

“Even the part when you fell on your ass?” You whisper, smiling when his eyes crinkle.

“Sure,” he offers. “Even that part.”

You hum, nudging your nose against his, and when you pull back, there's a strange glint in his eye— something fonder, sweeter than it had been before. You smile at him again, and maybe he sees something in your gaze too, because he doesn't kiss you filthy, nor peck you as a quick punctuation to your fucking. Instead, he strokes back your hair, his brown eyes darting down to your lips. And as he leans in, your heart thumps—

That infernal pounding starts up again, louder this time and accompanied by the muffled sound of a male voice calling impatiently, "Hey, Eddie, open up— I ain't got all day, man!"

Your stomach lurches. Has it really been ten minutes?

Not that it matters, you berate yourself, ‘cause he’s back, and you’re still naked on the fucking floor. You dismount Eddie quickly, collapsing down to all fours so you can reach for your clothes where they’re bunched under the other side of the couch. As you scramble to your feet, tearing your panties and shorts up your legs, you hear Eddie curse quietly under his breath.

"Gimme a goddamn second!" he snaps, still lying on the ground, lifting his hips and shimmying up his boxers with a level of nonchalance that belies the urgency of the situation.

You climb onto the couch, your chest heaving from adrenaline and exertion as he pops up in front of you, hopping several times to get his tight jeans the rest of the way up. He flops down on the other side, spreading his legs comfortably, seeming content to just let his belt hang open like he can’t be bothered with it. You glance at him skeptically to see he’s already looking back at you with the same expression, though his is also tinged with some amusement. It takes you a beat to realize why, but when you do, you rush with prickling panic. Because your top’s still rucked up around your collarbone, leaving your bare tits, complete with the new impression of Eddie’s teeth, on full display. Miraculously, you manage to yank it down just as the front door knob twists sharply.

And then, to your horror, the door pops right open.

Your jaw goes slack as a guy around your age— rail thin and pale, dressed in an oversized flannel and a ratty pair of jean shorts— steps into the trailer. Eddie grunts a casual greeting, nodding at the visitor as he lopes up to the couch just as casually, slapping Eddie’s lazily outstretched palm like they’ve done this a million times before. You’re still attempting to process the fact that the front door has been unlocked this entire time when the guy casts a cursory glance your way, his eyes quickly flicking you up and down. You snap your mouth shut, your lips pressing into a flat line as you pull your legs up like they can shield you from his appraisement.

“Hey, man,” Eddie says, cracking his neck to the side. “How was that rock I hooked you up with last time? Good shit, right?”

Obviously a customer, then. You try to ignore the exchange, but you’re inescapably conscious of the fact that this guy could’ve walked in on you and Eddie fucking at literally any point in time. That awareness prickles as you shift, trying to mimic Eddie’s casual posture, though your attempt fails miserably as you feel a small gush of wet warmth leak between your thighs. You blanch as you realize Eddie’s cum is probably dampening your shorts; quickly, you adjust your legs, hoping to conceal the telltale spot. But your traitorous mind can’t help but consider how you likely look— hair mussed, lips swollen from Eddie’s kisses, one strap of your stretched-out tank top sagging down your arm. Like I’ve been totally fucked stupid, you think sourly, casting a flat look toward Eddie who, aside from a sweaty face and lips that are just the slightest bit puffier than before, appears no worse than normal.

Your fingers tap an impatient beat against your knee as you wait, eager for them to finish up so this awkward situation can be over already. The exchange drags on until the guy is finally pocketing his product as Eddie counts his money.

“Alright,” Eddie says at last, leaning to one side to stuff the bills in his pocket. “Pleasure doin’ business.” You hold in a relieved sigh as he jerks his chin up in a nod, flashing his customer a friendly look that’s half warm eyes and half sharp teeth.

The guy’s about to turn toward the door when Eddie speaks again, and the feigned innocence in his tone makes your stomach sink.

“Oh, shit, almost forgot—”

His ringed hand stretches out, rooting around on the messy side table for a moment before snatching up a ballpoint pen. Your eyes widen in disbelief as he glances behind him, casually reaching up and scratching another line into the wall— drawing everyone’s eyes to the tally marks and, in particular, to the words written above them.

Cum counter.

All you can do is stare at Eddie, utterly at a loss. "Now get the fuck outta here," he says to the guy, his eyes never leaving yours. "My baby's tired, and it's time for her nap."

And that motherfucker smiles at you— so wide his cheek dimples.

Not his whore; not his fuckdoll. His baby. Your heart swells behind your ribs even as your body heats several degrees with mortification; the customer’s long gone before you can decide whether to kiss Eddie or kick him.

It’s a decision you’ll have to make a lot from now on.

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader

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risuola · 2 days

Text

▶ COCOONED — one of those lazy mornings when you wake up trapped in a tangle of hands and legs.

contents: college!au, roommates — 0,6k words

a/n: very short one, i'm still painting a little background to the friendship dynamics of our trio, but I wanna take this opportunity to thank you guys for supporting this little story I'm building here and also I wanna encourage you to help me out with it! if you have any ideas for entries, please let me know through ask box!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

Taking care of your friends came easy for you. You were always like this, affectionate and protective. It was a way of showing love, through those subtle acts of tenderness and both Satoru and Suguru always thanked you for it, despite occasional teasing from their side. They were grateful for your selfless and kindhearted nature, just as you were grateful for the boundless protection you were granted ever since you got to know them. Any bully you ever stumbled upon quickly turned tail when met with the sight of your two guardians – always taller than others, always stronger and very ready to resolve issues (in more or less civilized ways).

It wasn’t a surprise that living together brought you even closer than before. It became a routine for you to help Satoru with his eyedrops first thing in the morning – because the boy has eyes of an angel but needs to protect them from harsh sunlight and environment. Then, you always make sure that a jar of Suguru’s favorite candy is full for him, so that he can pop one right after he takes his daily medicine – the one that he swears tastes like a rug somebody used to wipe up shit and vomit. They, on the other hand, never fail to help you at home or bring you sweets from the store.

One thing you were slightly uncertain about at the beginning of the one-bedroom journey was sleeping with them. You wondered if one day you’ll wake up to a black eye because of some random muscle twitch of either of them or they’ll squish you in the middle of the bed because of course you slept between them, but none of those things happened and it’s been months already. What took place, on the other hand, was evolvement of your friendship to a much more touchy one. It always came natural to you three to cuddle; you never minded their hands on your waist or legs and they never complained about you draping over them, but in one bed, it became much more intense. A progression of friendly intimacy that all three of you grew to love. A comfortable tangle of bodies that became a safe space to you and the boys, something that happened naturally and you wouldn’t have it any other way. And they wouldn’t change it either, but–

“Satoruu–! Suguuu–”

–but there were mornings like this one. You woke up trapped in a death grip of both boys, stuck against Suguru’s muscular chest and with Satoru’s strong arm wrapped around you. The white-haired head was nuzzled against your shoulder blades and as you tried to loosen up the cocoon, you ended up twisting your upper body unnaturally while your legs stayed lodged between four, much larger male ones. Your butt was pressed against Gojo’s stomach and his hand was resting below your ribs, long gone underneath the fabric of your stolen t-shirt. Long, black hair was tickling your face whenever you tried to move away from brunette’s bare pecks. Immobilized and resigned, you let out a deep exhale.

Thanks god it’s Sunday and you have nowhere to be – otherwise you’d be very late, as none of your friends seemed to be bothered by the sound of your voice calling them.

“Get back to sleep,” Toru mumbled sleepily against your back and somehow pulled you even closer to his chest and you could tell that as soon as he finished speaking, he was back in his slumber. His muffled voice did something to Suguru though, because the man hummed lowly, a sound akin to a purr. You felt his lips pressing to the top of your head and he was gone too, with his large hand resting on your hip and his bicep underneath your cheek. Helpless and surrendered, you tweaked your position to get comfortable and allowed your eyelids to drop, slowly succumbing back into the dreamland.

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu

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noisyquokka · 3 days

Text

Try Again

PAIRING - Hyunjin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - After a short-lived relationship ends, Hyunjin struggles with the idea of “just friends”. Three years later, it seems you haven’t lost interest either.

WORDCOUNT - 2.9k

WARNINGS - lovers to friends to …., mutual pining, jealous!Hyunjin, a lil playful banter/angst that turns kinda steamy, kinda left open-ended... part 2 perhaps? 🤨

A/N - Literal WEEKS late, but uhhh… that’s never stopped me before! 🤭 My little addition for Hyune Day! Enjoy, Darlings! 💛

(Based loosely on Try Again - PRETTYMUCH cause I've been listening to it on repeat and it feels like a Hyunjin song to me, personally. I also wrote this to satisfy my insatiable love for watching him practice, cause let's be honest... choreographer!Hyunjin just hits different iykyk)

“Would you at least take some videos if you’re gonna bury your head in your phone?”

Your eyes sweep up to the shadow of the man who pauses his movement in the middle of the studio. Hyunjin straightens up, his fingers reaching for the brim of his hat. He pulls it off and runs his fingers through his dampened tresses, already sweaty from the past hour of practice.

“Well, excuse me, Hwang,” you mutter, resting your hand on your thigh. “I didn’t know I was summoned here to be your videographer.”

“You’re supposed to be critiquing my choreo so far.”

He’s been working on this choreo for his new solo, and while he didn’t expect you to drop in, he knows Minho has some part in you ending up here. Why? Because he was stupid enough to spill his feelings to him in full confidence that Minho would keep his mouth shut. One could say he kept his word, but still, he plays with fire in his process.

“Ah, right…” God, is it fun to ponder your next remark. You smirk as you watch him reach for the open water bottle near him. “Not enough sneaker squeaks.”

His hand pauses mid-drink, bourbon eyes cutting to your proud little grin. Your eyes are already back on the phone in your grip, tapping away like you’re texting someone. For a moment, Hyunjin is itching to know who it could be. But then he reminds himself that you’re not together anymore. He tilts his head slightly, tries not to let it bother him.

“You’re so unserious, my god,” Hyunjin mutters, and swipes at his forehead with a huff.

Your grin turns into a playful lip bite, and you can’t help but tease him a little.

“I’m being completely serious.” Your eyes find him again, and he exhales heavily. “The sneaker squeaks are an essential part of the performance. How will anyone memorize your routine if they can’t count the squeaks?”

“Okay.” He scoffs, pushing his hair back and putting his hat back on, swiftly turning back to his Bluetooth. You mock him with your typical Hwang Hyunjin voice, not noticing the way he shakes his head and smirks to himself.

Hyunjin taps the play button on his phone, taking a deep breath as he readies himself for another run-through.

It’s been hours since he started working on this specific number, and while the comeback wasn’t for a couple of months, he thought getting ahead of schedule would be nice. However, your being around brought on a difficulty to slip into the choreographer head space. Ever since his conversation with Minho, and Minho's comment about how you quote-unquote very well feel the same, I mean, have you seen the way they look at you?!, he’s been the embodiment of a goldfish in a bowl. He wishes things would’ve started off better because apparently, this lovers-to-friends plot line was only digging his early grave. Hyunjin’s fairly certain that after you two broke up, you only agreed to stay friends because you made good connections with the rest of the boys.

The rational side of him knows that’s not the truth.

Fucking less than five months and the metaphorical flames fizzle like a defective sparkler.

The only problem is that those feelings never fizzled for him. Even now, his heart stutters in his chest when you lock eyes with him. When you give him one of your little grins and cock your head as if to say you’ve won in the various dumb debates that you love to drag each other into.

Like right now.

“Seungmin agrees with me,” you say, standing up and shoving your phone at him right as he begins the dance. Hyunjin’s brows raise, blinking and tilting his head in a non-verbal question to get you to move.

“Seungmin agrees with you because it’s a dumb argument… and it’s you versus me.” he mutters the last part, watching you roll your eyes and backtracking to your spot.

“If you’re so confident in this, why am I still here?”

“You could leave,” Hyunjin says, his exertion making his comment sound harsher than he meant it to be. He locks eyes with yours in the mirror, his dark tresses falling in his line of sight. The smirk that threatens to quirk his lips sneaks in when you seemingly freeze on the spot, your eyes wider than usual. “I know you’ve got work in the morning.”

You’re mulling it over in your head now — a glimmer in your eye that Hyunjin pinpoints as he attempts to keep track of where he is in the choreography. He watches your eyes sweep to the phone, most likely checking the time. It’s roughly 1:00 am. You lock eyes again, the answer clear before you speak.

“Well, now I’m not leaving since you want me to.”

He gives a sardonic laugh, rolls his eyes as his foot slips and he misses a beat. Distractions…

“I didn’t say that,” he replies lowly, snatching the towel off the top of the stereo.

“You’re mumbling…”

“I said I didn’t say that,” Hyunjin speaks up, his hand bringing the fabric to his face to pat the sweat from his skin. You watch the drops of sweat as they drip off the ends of his hair when he pulls his hat off, and you feel the need to clear your throat. And then the towel is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. All it has you doing is a double-take on the black tee shirt he’s wearing. The way it hugs his shoulders and chest should be outlawed, you think.

But then he reaches for the open bottle of water again, and you purse your lips. It’s another short swig, a singular drop of water escaping from the corner of his mouth. It travels down his chin, slowly slipping down the length of his neck, your eyes trained on the path it follows. It stops just before the collar of his black tee and you question why it’s suddenly hotter in the studio.

You swallow, forcing your gaze away and back to your phone before Hyunjin can witness any more of your blatant ogling. As you return your gaze to your phone, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You’re not embarrassed, not really, but the idea of getting caught sends your brain into overdrive.

“Still waiting on some critique I can work with~” he sing-songs, placing the bottle and towel back beside his phone.

“Maybe I don’t have anything to say,” you reply, and he chuckles.

“You?! With nothing to say? That’s a first.” He walks over, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest.

With the wave of feelings you’re dealing with, Hyunjin’s comment has you bristling. You glare up at him as he arches a brow at you as if challenging you to say something. That stupid smirk quirks his lips. Butterflies swarm in your gut.

“Fine, then.” You lean forward, propping your forearm on your knee as the two of you stare each other down. “You’ve been favoring your right leg through the entire first verse of the song, your hip rolls aren’t deep enough during the chorus, you seem undecided on whether the overall choreo should be slower or faster—” You list off each critique on your fingers, and while Hyunjin wanted your genuine criticism to work toward a better overall performance, he’s clocked out to what you’re saying. His eyes sweep over your face as you continue listing the things he could improve, and he grins at the way your eyes seem to glow in the studio lighting. A fire. Passion for the things he’s passionate about.

“—And another… thing…” Your voice drops to a surprised whisper almost instantly when you feel Hyunjin’s fingers curl under your chin, feather-light against your skin. You blink, realizing just how close he’s gotten, having bent down so his elbows rest on his knees. His head cocks slightly, tongue darting out to lick the corner of his lips. Brown eyes flicker down to yours a moment later.

“Another thing?” Hyunjin repeats, his tone a low murmur. His breaths mingle with yours, your heart beating erratically in such close proximity. His index finger runs the span of your jaw as he stares, a tangible connection that still feels natural and electric to him. A reminder of the silent tension that has always lingered.

The familiar scent of his cologne clouds your senses. It brings you back to the nights he used to spend at your apartment, with the two of you watching K-dramas until 3:00 am. Your bodies a mess of limbs in your bed, his distracting kisses up your neck until you’d try to playfully shove him away. He’d reach for your jaw to pull you in for soft kisses that would evolve into slow and lazy make-outs in his arms. Your eyes dart down at the reminder, and you mentally curse yourself.

“I, Uh.” you stammer out a few words before falling silent, your eyes fixated on his. The moment hangs in the air, the tension between you thick and palpable.

Something, something, boundaries… Something, something, self-control…

Hyunjin can’t help the sly grin, feeling the skin under his touch move when you swallow. All logic has left you in favor of longing for those familiar caresses you had years ago. It sure hasn’t changed, every subtle brush of his fingers ushers forth shivers down your spine. You are teetering on the edge of a cliff, the question being do you jump? You want to. Hell, with the way Hyunjin’s gaze keeps darting down, you can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling the same way.

You attempt to regain control of yourself, but it’s futile — your focus is lost, distracted by the proximity of his lips. Fuck, is he leaning in…

“Your expressions.” You finally manage, the only lingering critique swirling around in your head. “They, uh, could be sharper…” You say, watching Hyunjin sharpen his gaze like a conniving fox. And like a trickster, his fingers drag from your jaw to your neck, dark eyes following its path until the steady thrum of your pulse halts his journey. Your eyes drink him in, lips parted as Hyunjin’s brow twitches in a knowing gesture.

We can’t do this, not after all this time.

The silence crackles with anticipation. You’re fairly certain that Hyunjin knows some part of this is dangerous cause he hesitates for a moment. But then he’s leaning in, his thumb tracing circles against your neck. You mirror his movements, so close that this sliver of distance feels like a challenge. Unspoken desire hums between you two, a heat that has always lingered, just waiting for the right moment to reignite.

Just friends…

The soft brush of Hyunjin’s lips against yours slams the factory reset on your thoughts, mental gymnastics be damned. The tension snaps like a rubber band. You finally give in, capturing his mouth in a meaningful liplock. It feels like no time has passed - he still kisses you with the same careful tenderness that he always has. That familiar heat runs through your body as you sink into him, chasing his lips when he pulls away for a split second only to recapture yours with a fervor.

Your phone is forgotten in your lap, hands sliding up his chest in a new wave of confidence. You pull him closer and Hyunjin groans softly, his free hand coming up to brace his weight against the wall behind you. Your mouths move together in a seamless rhythm, your kisses growing hungrier and more desperate. The brim of his hat grazes your forehead and you slip one of your hands higher into his hair, hooking your finger around the strap. It falls to the floor with a dull thud, allowing your fingers to rake freely through his dark tresses. A subtle pull that has him smirking against your mouth.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his fingers sliding from your neck to your jaw. Your lips part in a sigh as you both sit there on the floor of the dance studio, panting against each other’s mouths. Eyes closed, you feel his forehead rest against yours, your noses brushing. You bite your lip, savoring the warmth of his skin on yours.

“I’ve missed this,” he tells you, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too.” You murmur, lashes fluttering. God, what an understatement. You’ve been close even after you ended things, with friendly shoves and your usual back-and-forth banter. But the feel of his warm hands against your skin, the comfort of his close presence, his plush lips. This is what you’ve truly been craving.

His scent lingers in your lungs, his heart beating steady beneath your palm. You feel Hyunjin’s fingers knead the skin of your jaw, tilting your head up so he can come back for another chaste kiss that soothes the ache in your chest. He pulls back, pressing his lips to your forehead as he shifts to sit beside you on the studio floor, his back to the wall. You lean back, resting your head against the wall, your eyes locked on the ceiling.

Silence… as comfortable as it’s always been with the man beside you, you despise it right now. It only has you in your head after both of your confessions. What does it mean for you two?

Your gaze wanders back to his. Only those browns are already looking back, a softness in them that has always been there when they’re looking at you. Hyunjin gives you a half grin, reaching out for your nearest hand and slipping his fingers between your own. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as you both sit there, minutes passing by.

“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Hyunjin’s voice shatters the silence, staring up at the ceiling.

“We should be running through what not to do when you stay friends with your ex right about now,” You’re half joking, but your tone is more tense than nonchalant. Hyunjin laughs under his breath, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You don’t look at him, but you feel him squeeze your hand lightly.

“You should know how difficult it is to stay friends with an ex.”

“Oh, is it?” A small huff escapes your mouth, and you steal another glance, licking your lips.

“You don’t need me to tell you why, do you?” Hyunjin replies, his voice a low murmur. His head turns to you, his gaze fixed on your lips as you bite at them nervously. “You could have cut all contact with me. You could have moved on and we would have gone our separate ways…”

“I didn’t want to do that.” You admit. Your fingers twitch in his palm, pads running over small callouses and lines as you try to distract yourself with something. Anything. His hand wraps around yours again, squeezing firmer this time. A gesture of reassurance.

“I didn’t either.”

You swallow, picking your gaze off your entwined hands, and your heart skips a beat when you meet his eyes.

“We’re gonna have to decide what this is, aren’t we?” You say, the words sounding more serious than intended. Hyunjin does respond immediately. He just stares, his eyes awash in a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. He breathes in, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah…” He says, his voice low and steady. The weight of that realization settles on his chest, but Hyunjin shakes his head and offers you a genuine grin. “Maybe after a good night’s rest.”

“And a shower.” You smirk, pulling away from him in a joking fashion. But he pulls you back into him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You screw your face up and he rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t hear you complaining with my lips on yours just a moment ago.” He teases, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You huff a laugh, leaning back against him.

“Hard to complain when you’re a good kisser.” you counter, bringing a hand up to his shoulder.

“Ah, couldn’t forget that over the years?” Hyunjin mutters, a hint of playfulness in his tone. His lips connect to the junction of your jaw, slowly trailing kisses down the hollow of your neck. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blade, your lashes fluttering over your cheeks.

“I don’t think I ever could.”

Your words send a rush of satisfaction through him and he nips at the sensitive skin just behind your ear. This closeness and playful back and forth is what he’s missed. A comfort that he never wanted to let go of. Even now, as the clock nears 2:00 am.

You capture his face in your hands and pull him back up with little argument, your thumb tracing the corner of his lips.

You don’t realize he’s leaning in again until you feel his lips on yours. It’s a slow and tender kiss this time, but the passion behind it burns hot. You revel in the subtle way he pulls you in, his hand falling off your shoulder to find purchase at your lower back.

Hyunjin eases up, and you’re left breathless yet again, your heart thumping in your chest.

“You gonna be able to sleep after this?” He asks, a sly grin curling his lips.

“Old habits die hard…” You breathe, pulling him in once again.

Psst!! If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

AITA for telling my mom I don't like it when she slaps my ass? potential tw

so I (22 trans m) currently live with my mom (65), and I've always had issues with how she interacts with my body. today she woke me up to try on a pair of pants I bought yesterday before she washed them, and I asked her if she could stop staring at me while I took my pajama pants off to try on the jeans. she pushed back and laughed it off saying it didn't matter, so I had to change in front of her cause she refused to leave the room. this has happened many times before where she insists on watching me change, even when I'm completely naked, despite me asking her not to.

I put the pants on and she immediately comes over to inspect how they fit for herself, tugging on the waistband and looking them over, then promptly slaps my ass. I immediately recoil and tell her I didn't like it and I want her to stop, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes at the suggestion. I tell her it's weird because we've had this conversation before since her slapping my ass is a frequent occurrence, and like usual, she insists there's nothing weird about it because she's my mother and she isn't doing it to be sexual. when she does this, she usually says, "I birthed that ass, so I'm allowed to slap that ass if I want to." I tried to tell her that I'n an adult and I should be allowed to tell her when I don't like something she does to me, and I was visibly pissed off and kicked her out of my room to go back to bed.

I could hear her in the other room walking around saying loudly, "ohh, so I'M aaaaalways the problem. I'm the problem, of course," in like a mocking tone because she clearly thinks I'm in the wrong. I know she's an asshole for a lot of other reasons (she's pretty transphobic and doesn't respect my name, pronouns, or that I'm on hormones, and she frequently takes out her anger issues on me by yelling at me if I even look at her wrong when she's mad), but this one has been bothering me a lot since I moved back home after college (I'm also unemployed and wouldn't be able to move out for a while despite already wanting to get away from her)

for further context, she's always had a specific way of interacting with my body that I think is weird but she refuses to see it. she insisted on personally bathing me into middle school, then continued to say that I needed her help to shower correctly even up to now, so she frequently walks into my bathroom or bedroom when I'm entirely naked and will look my body over and I'm not a fan of it. she also still tries to force her way into changing rooms if we go shopping together so that she can have the final say in how I look in clothes, and she never even wants to turn around or wait outside while I strip.

I've tried to get her to stop before but she keeps doing it, insisting that she's my mother so she's allowed to, even though I'm an adult who hasn't lived with her for the past four years and is very autonomous, so it's not like she still does everything for me. she also pushes back and says that if I think it's weird then it must mean I've been assaulted before and that's why I don't like it when she touches me. I'm also autistic and don't like frequent hugs or any kind of touching and she doesn't like it when I tell her to stop doing that too, but her slapping my ass and insisting on seeing me naked is the stuff that really bothers me, the rest I tolerate just so I don't have to argue with her all the time.

I've asked friends before if they think it's weird she does this, but she's so insistent that she should be able to touch me whenever and however she wants just because she's my mom and that she can look at me naked because she birthed me and has seen me naked before, so why is it different now that I'm a full on adult. I honestly don't know who's in the wrong for this specific thing and if I'm over exaggerating like my mom says I am, but I'm so sick of her touching me when I tell her not to that I needed to poll answers, so:

am I the asshole for telling my mom to stop slapping my ass and insisting on looking at me while I'm naked despite being an adult and asking her not to?

#aita #am i the asshole

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glittergoblinzz · 3 days

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Now, don't get me wrong. I love headcanons about Simon that are extremely dark. What I DON'T like is people twisting his character and trying to say he's canonically a rapist just because of a single line from the comics (Yes, Simon Riley got his own mini line of comics before the OG MW2 released. As far as lore goes, these are still considered canon. They're pretty dark so I heavily advise people who are sensitive to sexual assault and abuse to take care while reading)

It's this line in particular people are using to justify him being an abusive rapist in canon:

"I do terrible things, violent, to people, to women. The scary part is that I like it..."

His mother literally calls him out on that bullshit, knowing that isn't true in the slightest....and yes. That is fucking TOOTHPASTE he's putting on his face. I literally do not think this man is in the right state of mind to be making claims like that when he's up at like 3AM putting toothpaste on his face

Also, what people leave out when bringing this up is what happens before and after this scene. Let's talk about the before first....

Before this scene with him telling his own mother he "enjoys hurting women", he was asleep; having a nightmare. Guess what this nightmare was about? Roba and what he had done to Simon

Basically what happens here is that Simon has a dream and he's a sexist pig wanting to get a look at the bartender's daughter. Roba appears and tells Simon that he had done a good job "teaching" Simon (referring to the brainwashing and torture Roba had put Simon through in Mexico)

It becomes clear with this dream and the conversation with his mother after he wakes up is that Roba did get to Simon....but what happens after these two scenes shows that Roba didn't get to Simon in the way he wanted to.

Roba wanted to brainwash Simon, turn him into a puppet. The following interaction with Sparks proves that Roba's brainwashing may have worked on Sparks and Washington but NOT Simon

Sparks was literally about to rape a woman and Simon was NOT having it. He called the cops, purposely spoke up and asked Sparks about raping the woman so the operator could hear. If Simon genuinely felt that he enjoyed doing violent things to women, then he wouldn't have hesitated to join Sparks in raping her. Instead he called the cops, stalled until the police came and ran off with Sparks.

ALSO, SIMON WAS NOT COMPLIANT IN THIS SCENE. HE LITERALLY CALLS THE COPS AND STOPS THE RAPE FROM HAPPENING

Sparks and Washington have been fully brainwashed by Roba. They're working for him at this point in the story, keeping an eye on Simon for the bastard. Simon, on the other hand, has NOT been brainwashed by Roba. He still has a sense of himself.

As the comic goes on, he does take down Sparks, Washington, Roba and a lot of his men....proving he never fell victim to the brainwashing Roba put him through like Sparks and Washington had.

Again: I don't mind headcanons....I actually enjoy a lot of the darker Simon headcanons....It just bothers me when people try to push their headcanons out as actual canon. I've had to leave discords and group chats because people got pissed that I wouldn't agree with them on Simon being a rapist/abuser (like, beating his spouse abuse) in canon

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost comics #cod comic

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hazz-a-bear · 2 days

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YOUR HAND IN MINE, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ As soon as Junhui shot up and excused himself from the dinner table, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. If only the love of your life trusted you enough to take care of him at his worst.

.ᐟ sick junhui ( i'm sorry for inflicting pain on this boy, i really am ) fever, mention of throwing up, nervous and stressed reader, junhui needs to learn how to ask for help, the daunting ordeal of not asking to be taken care of because of the fear that comes with being a burden to your loved ones, absolute sweethearts minghao and jihoon

a/n - sick junnie is such a cat, i can cry. somebody give this boy a kiss and tell him it's okay. leave some feedback please please <3

When Jihoon suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder, you jump in your seat. Startled by his out-of-order action, you let your eyes find his, a question pausing in the air. You watch as Jihoon sighs and gives you a look - quite unreadable as always. When you simply cocks your head to the side, Jihoon is sighing again like a damsel in distress before he finally nudges his gaze towards your lap, specifically, your knee and oh –

You let your eyes zero on the way your knee bounces in sync with the song playing through the venue - a good hundred-something bpm to it and almost making it look like it's having a seizure of its' own. Wait, holy shit, were you shaking the fucking table?

"Calm down, you weren't" It's Minghao who comforts you from the other side of you, having moved to the empty seat next to you while you've been distracted. "You're fidgety"

Minghao is almost peering into you, doe eyes slightly wide as they run along your face with concern clearly written across his eyes. From your other side, Jihoon is pretending to not listen. He's long retracted his hand and sat back in his seat, but you knew he still had one year stuck in the conversation out of concern.

"Yn," Minghao almost whispers as if not to bother you. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm sure he's alright"

You try your best to nod, not trusting yourself to give him a verbal answer knowing you would just end up with a whole lot of nonsense pouring out of your mouth as a result of your nerves. But still, even as you silently reassure him, you can't seem to stop the shaking in your leg, the shudder in your breath and that god-awful feeling in your gut.

"I'll go check on Jun" Jihoon says from your right, giving away how he'd been listening and making you look up at him.

He's already getting up from his place, brushing his hands against his pants as he squeezes between your chairs and slips away from the seat. From the corner of your eye, you see Minghao trying to get up as well, only to be forced back into his chair by Jihoon with a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay with her. I'll go" You hear Jihoon say to the younger, stern and a rare display of worry dripping from the words rolling out of his tongue.

"Yn? Yn, look at me" There's a light feeling of pressure on your knee, and you turn your face to meet Minghao's eyes, ever so comforting. "Hey, it's okay, honey. Jihoon hyung will check on him, okay? And then they'll be back, and then he'll be right here next to you. No need to get worked up, yeah? Junnie wouldn't want you to get worked up at all"

Minghao is peering into your face again, nodding and confirming if you've processed what he's saying before smiling kindly at you. "So, just breathe. He's okay"

The way Minghao is so careful with his words, trying to calm you down with the gentlest touch and the softest words reminds you of just how great of a person he is.

Minghao has always been so fond of you, ever since you entered Jun's life as a constant figure. At first, he might have been a little hard to approach. Considering just how protective he was of his Jun gēgē, you understood when Minghao shied away from warming up to you when you'd been introduced to each other. Junhui had been the most eager when the two of you met, almost bouncing off his feet at the mere thought of his two favourite people (his words, of course) becoming close. It had taken some time for you two to get comfortable with each other as Jun's best friend and Jun's partner, yet by now, you're convinced that Minghao considered you a sister - maybe a mother figure even. Minghao is now one of your best friends as well - the two of you often hang out by yourselves, sharing similar likings in music and flavours of tea. So it was inevitable for him to get worried when you started spacing out ten minutes into Junhui's disappearance - eyes hazy and knee starting to bound under the table.

"He kept saying he didn't feel good. He actually didn't seem well at all today" You stagger, slumping your head. "I thought it was nothing, so I didn't bother asking. Gosh, Hao, I should've checked on him a little more"

"Hey, come on" Minghao shifts in his seat, bringing a hand to rest on top of yours in an attempt to console you. "He'll be okay, I'm sure. You have nothing to be scared of. Jihoon is with him, yeah? He'll be feeling better, and he'll be back to his usual self in no time, yn"

"But I should've asked. Hao, you know perfectly well how he doesn't say out loud when he's sick. He thinks he's being a burden, so he doesn't tell me even though he needs me. And god, it worries me so much" You try your best to stay calm, seeing a few others like Joshua and Jeonghan looking your way with lifted eyebrows and confused glances.

You seriously did not want to cause a scene in the middle of the function in front of everyone - but also, you had an extent to keep your composure while your boyfriend was probably passing in the restroom.

The Seventeen boys ( or mostly Seuncheol and his wallet ) had planned a dinner party, a quiet get-together with all their close friends following the end of their tour.

Junhui had been so excited when he passed you the invite, all giddy and smiles, bouncing on his feet as he suggested the two of you should wear matching outfits and be lovey-dovey all evening to purposefully piss Jeonghan off for his 'lack of bitches/respectfully' ( Again, his words ) His excitement passed on to you, more because of Junhui's boxy smile and lit up eyes as he romped around than the whole dinner ordeal. Sure, you were just as eager to celebrate the guys finally having a moment to wind down, but seeing Junhui so happy-go sunshine was better than anything in the whole world.

When the two of you woke up this morning, Junhui hadn't forgotten to cheerily mumble into your shoulder about how he picked a suit to match your outfit, and Jeonghan was going to be so sour all night about it.

You had expected him to be stuck to you all day, talking your ear off about everything and nothing all at once since today had been an off day for him. His habitual routine at home was being stubborn all day and refusing to let go of your arm to follow you around the house like a boy cat.

You hadn't first noticed any signs of sickness at all as Junhui spent the morning like usual, clinging to your back and playing on his phone for the most part. And when he asked if he could go and lay down for a while, you'd simply thought he wanted to rest out of the weariness that came with the newly ended tour.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before sending him off to bed to get a good rest, knowing he would have to stay active for the latter part of the night. Junhui almost slept the entire afternoon off, curled up on your bed with a newfound frown pinching his eyebrows together even in his state of unconsciousness. When you finally woke him up, Junhui had spent a fair share of minutes groaning and whining before getting out of bed, saying something about a headache, and quickly waving a hand to shoo you off when you instantly got worried.

Even as you kept asking him once the two of you left the house, he had simply smiled and pressed a soothing kiss to your temple over the console, telling you not to worry your pretty little head ( His words for the third time )

It was Seungkwan who pointed out how pale Junhui looked, joking about how he should go out into the sun a little bit more or he'd end up like Jihoon. Mingyu and Seokmin joined, saying something about how it would be another Macau situation if he didn't take care of himself enough - which made you throw a hurried gaze of worry towards Junhui, who avoided your eyes as his life depended on it.

Even Seungcheol, who mostly kept to himself turned towards you at some point during the night, quietly asking if Junhui had been eating well after returning home from the tour.

And since then, you hadn't been able to stop the waves of worry from washing over you.

Junhui had been doing a great job of trying to pretend like he was okay for the most part. The painful pinch that took over his features while he made conversation with one of the guests was gone as soon as it came. Junhui was back to his usual smile with rattled eyes darting around to see if he'd been caught. Later, when you saw him wavering on his feet, hand immediately flying to his temple, you had been by his side in an instant, asking if he was surely okay. Your boyfriend flashed his million-dollar smile at you once again, turning away to introduce you to one of his friends and successfully steering the attention away from the matter at hand.

It was when Junhui excused himself from the table to go to the restroom you started getting anxious. It was clear to anyone with a working pair of eyes that Junhui was not feeling well. Even if nobody voiced anything outright - the concerned looks the boys threw at you said enough.

And now, seeing Jihoon return with his face twisted into a scowl, you were on your feet immediately, anxiety doubling in amount and Minghao following right beside you.

"What's wrong?" Your voice came out breathless and frantic, hands reaching to hold Jihoon by the arms. "Is he okay?"

"He caught something serious by the looks of it" Jihoon sighs with an unsettling look in his eyes. "He threw up. Dinner and maybe lunch too, all of it. I tried to get him out, but he's asking for you. He doesn't look good"

From the corner of your eyes, you can see how the rest of the boys are trying to listen to your conversation, wanting to know how Jun's doing after abruptly getting up and leaving the table.

Not sparing a glance at anyone, you're pushing past Jihoon in the direction of the restrooms in an instant. If it was any other time, you would have lingered outside waiting for Junhui to come back to you instead of barging inside the men's room. But this wasn't any other time - Junhui wasn't well and he clearly needed you with him - even explicitly telling Jihoon outright.

"Junnie" You're whispering when you finally push the door to the overly luxurious restroom, gaze falling on your boyfriend sitting against the heavy door of one of the stalls.

Jihoon and Minghao, who had followed after you hot on their heels, were kind enough to wait outside without tracking your steps - possibly knowing Junhui would want some time alone with you. You knew the two would be outside with ears turned your way anyway, ready to be of help if you needed.

"My baby, what's wrong?" Without even minding the condition of the outfit you're wearing, you kneel right in front of him on the shining marble of the floor.

Junhui cracks his eyes open as you bring up a hand to his flushed face. "Yn" He croaks, the scratch in his voice making you wince as you shuffle closer, stroking the warm skin of his cheeks. "It hurts. My head, my throat, I- I don't- I don't know what happened"

"Oh sweetheart, you should've told me. I was so worried" Junhui leans his face into your hand as you trace your fingers against his skin, reminding you of his kitty antics. One of his own hands comes up to shakily wrap around your wrist, keeping you close to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you" He whispers, eyes still drooping out of exhaustion. "Jihoonie said you were upset. I'm sorry"

"I wasn't upset at you, Jun. I was just worried" With a smile, you reassure him, not wanting to show your uneasiness with him in such a vulnerable condition. "Tell me how you feel, baby. Did you throw up?"

Junhui nods, eyes drooping and lips forming into an adorable pout.

"My poor baby" You can't help but pull your lips into a pout as well, cooing and bringing your other hand to cup his face between your cold palms.

As much as you hated the idea of Junhui getting sick on your watch, you secretly loved the clinginess that came with it like a plague. A sick Junhui meant an extra sulky Junhui, all cute pouts and teary eyes looking up at you until he'd successfully lured (lowkey coerced) you into giving him all your attention (doting on him 24/7 and doing things you wouldn't have agreed to do for a healthy Junhui)

After the initial dilemma of processing the fact that he's been bedridden, Junhui usually had the habit of pulling a drama queen card out of his pocket whenever he got sick. He would flat-out refuse to eat, take his medicine or sometimes even go see a doctor at all. Throwing small fits whenever you tried to argue with him about it, he would always guilt trip you into cuddling with him at the end of the day, unable to keep his limbs to himself.

But still, you adored the devious being he turned to whenever he was sick, mumbling in his sleep and nibbling on his food like a little cat as you orbit around him, pampering him like no tomorrow.

"Do you wanna go home, Jun? You feel really warm. Jihoon said you have a fever" You mumbled with a frown, hands feeling around for the warmth that radiated off his skin.

"Mmh. Jihoon's lying, I'm perfectly fine" Junhui opens his eyes and looks at you with a cheeky smile pulling on his lips. Yet, the small wince in his eyes is too noticeable to slip past your attention.

You pat his cheeks with a smile to match his. "Oh really, is that so? Well, I'm still taking you home and grounding you for the next two weeks so, we can't do anything about that"

Junhui exaggerates a whine at that, head rolling back against the door, dramatizing his dislike towards the idea of being the victim of your worries for the next couple of days. But you both know how much he loves to be the centre of your attention - being cared for and so so loved on like he deserved to be.

Junhui then silently lets you fuss over him, wiping his face with damp towels trying to soothe the flaring of warmth that's spreading through him.

Typically, Junhui would have been smiling his boxy smile, trying to lighten the mood by cracking his list of bad jokes as you fussed over him. So when he just sits silently with his head thrown back and eyes closed, you assume his condition might be a little more severe than usual. You can see the way he is still flushed, a sheen of sweat left behind as a result of the fever spreading through him. His hands are clammy where he keeps them in his lap, a clear sign of just how flimsy he's feeling now.

"My head hurts" He mumbles once you settle down in front of him again, immediately making you run a hand through his hair softly. You try to massage his head, fingers pressing to his temples knowing it usually helps with his migraines.

"We'll go home, okay?" You say. "You need to rest, Jun. You're still exhausted- you're gonna say no but your body needs lots of rest, baby. I knew something was wrong when you went to bed earlier, I just didn't think you'd get sick so soon"

Though you try your best to not let your voice waver, you know Junhui's picked up on the way your demeanour shrinks from the way your voice quietens down. Junhui, ever so observant and managing to see through all the cracks, opens his eyes to look over at you with a pinched frown.

He blindly reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his lips. You watch as he turns your palm towards him and presses a kiss to the middle of your palm. He lets your hands rest against his face, cradling it close before he starts to speak.

"I should've told you" He sighs, nuzzling his nose against your palm. "I- I just didn't want to bother you, you know? You've been so busy with work and I just - I just didn't want to add on to it, yn. I've been away for so long and you've been nothing but looking after me all this time. I just wanted to stop being so...so dependent. I thought I could look after myself, not be a burden for once. I'm sorry"

You feel a part of your heartbreak as you listen to Junhui's words - spoken so solemnly as he explains how he simply wanted to stop being so reliant on you and take care of himself as a person. As if he could ever be a burden in your dictionary of love and as if he doesn't know that your world quite literally revolves around him at all times.

"Don't...don't say that" You start, making him pause on his words. "Don't ever- god, Jun. Don't ever say you're being a burden - to me, out of everyone"

Junhui's eyes are glazed over with a meek apologetic look as you try to form your words, too perplexed to even string your thoughts together. "You'll never be a burden to me, you know that? Never. If anything, I'm always fucking itching to know what's going on in this mind of yours. I always want to know when you're feeling bad or sick or just, anything. I always want to know how you're doing. I'm here to take care of you. Fever, no fever- I'm always going to look after you and coddle you, Jun"

"I love you so much, okay? I don't want you to think you're burdening me by telling me you have a fever darling. I always want to know. What if Jihoonie didn't come to check on you, hm? Would you have been able to go back out there by yourself and pretend everything's fine?" Junhui's face lowers as he lets your words wash over you.

Trying to keep your voice as comforting as possible, you lift his face to meet his eyes, a bit glazed over with a crumpled expression.

"Don't ever say sorry for wanting to be taken care of, Wen Junhui" Your words are soft, yet, sharp. "Not when you know you know I would run to the ends of the earth of you. Not when you know I know you would do the same for me if I was ever in your place"

"You deserve so much love and I won't ever sleep peacefully without knowing I've shown you how much I do"

Junhui stares at you, lips downturned and eyes suddenly glassy and shining under the harsh light of the room. You smile at him, tipping his head up a little, not wanting to let the tears fall past his waterline. He returns a watery smile with a small nod when you pass a pointed look, trying to convey just how serious your words were. He takes a shaky breath, blinking away the tears in his eyes before he looks back up at you.

"You're so good to me. Always"

"I love you" You lean forward before pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple and resting your lips against his warm skin - trying to ignore the fact that you're both still settled on the shiny floor of the bathroom.

"I love you too. Thank you"

The two of you are broken apart when a knock is heard through the door before it's pushed open and Minghao pokes his head through the gap. Jihoon shuffles in right behind Minghao, taking a moment to go a once over of their position on the floor before rolling his eyes/fondly.

"Gē, how are you?" Minghao kneels right next to you, a hand reaching up to rest against Junhui's forehead as the younger searches his face.

"I think I've caught a fever, Hao" Junhui, gazing at him with lax eyes, gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Puked my entire dinner down, my throat hurts now"

"Oh, Junnie" The younger lets his hand rest against the side of his face, thumb stroking the skin of Jun's ear comfortably. "You should've told yn, you idiot. What if it got worse, huh? You passed out or something and Jihoon hyung didn't come to check up on you? What then? Do you know how worried yn was? Stop being a dummy"

Junhui squints his eyes as Minghao scolds him, nodding his head along to the sharp words the younger throws at him with practised ease. Minghao jabs at his side for the effect yet the gentle and relieved look in his eyes under the faux rage isn't hard to notice.

"Yeah," Jihoon agrees from next to them. "You gave us quite the scare"

Junhui fixes his lips into another pout when Jihoon lightly smacks his head, looking down at him from where he's standing. The look on his face makes Jihoon sigh before he reaches to softly ruffle his hair with a carefully masked gleam of affection.

"We should get you home" Minghao's looking up at you when he says, still stroking Jun's skin, making you agree with a firm nod. Looking back at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to protest, he fixes him with one short and sharp look. "If you even try to come up with a fuck ass reason to why we should let you stay here when you look like utter shit and clearly needs to lie the fuck down, I'm gonna punch you in the eye"

"No hesitation, no remorse" Jihoon joins, fingers tightening in Junhui's hair as if to emphasize the seriousness of his threat. With an amusing helpless look in his eyes, Junhui looks over to you who's still kneeling in front of him, fiddling with his fingers on top of your lap.

"And I'll tell Seungcheol you're refusing to go to a doctor" You shrug and Junhui almost shudders. They all know how serious (and fucking terrifying) Seuncheol is when it comes to health.

Eventually - and by eventually, you mean after throwing a fit about that face that he's being taken home and only settling down once you'd promised to let him eat breakfast for dinner for the next two nights - Junhui agrees to return home with you.

You try not to worry too much when he wobbles on his feet once Minghao and Jihoon pull him up from the floor. Understanding how he's not stable on his own, Junhui clings to the two as they steer him out of the restroom and promise to take him straight to the car.

"People are going to think I drank too much and passed out or something, oh god" You smile at the way Junhui's whine carries down the hallway away from you.

When you're back at the main area, quietly grabbing your bag and excusing yourself from everyone, some of the boys are quick to pull you aside. Once you've reassured them that yes, Jun is okay and no, he doesn't have a severe case of Diarrhea, Chan, it's a fever, you say your goodbyes to them. Jeonghan, who's close to tears and fretting like a mother hen, offers to walk you to your car yet, you're saved by Seungcheol who pulls the other to his side with an understanding smile.

"Hannie, yn will update us, don't worry" He assured the boy before turning towards you. "Take care of him, okay? I'll clear his schedule and let you know. Just- make sure he's okay, yn"

"Of course, always"

When you finally approach your car, you notice how Junhui is already settled in the passenger seat, eyes closed and breathing a little easier than before. You smile at the way Jihoon is stroking through his hair, trying to act cool about it when he notices you looking.

"I'll take him home now" You announce. "Thank you guys. Really, thank you so much. I already did so much"

"Anything for Jun" Jihoon mumbles. "He's been working hard"

Minghao moves to give you a small hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "You're okay to drive? We can get a driver for you if not"

"Yeah, I'm okay" You confirm. "I didn't have anything to drink"

"I know. But you're sure?" You know Minghao is asking if you're in a clear state of mind to handle a vehicle this deep into the night, knowing you've been a bit ruffled earlier. With a sure nod, you assure him.

"Get home safe, yn. Send me a text and make sure he's well rested, please"

With the promise of nursing Jun to your best capability, you ultimately get in the car before pulling away from the parking lot. Finally, you let out a breath, feeling the heaviness in your heart substituting while the task of bringing Junhui home and making sure he's taken care of properly for the night is pushed to the limelight of your priorities. You feel the exhaustion, all the nerves and the worries you spent on the boy you love, finally catching up to you as you drive through the city streets. Sparing a glance at the same boy now peacefully resting on the passenger seat next to you, skin lit up by the dim street lights outside, you feel your heart filling with a new wave of affection towards the only one who held your heart in his hands.

God, how you loved him.

When Junhui's fingers blindly reach across the console to lace with your own in the dark, you know his hand was the one thing you'd never allow yourself to let go of.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui #moon junhui #junhui imagines #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui angst #wen junhui imagines #svt jun

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royaltozaki · 3 days

Text

tattoos and bad behaviour

synopsis: momo has been hiding her new tattoo from you and she’s finally back for you to see it.

warnings: strap-ons, vibrators, sexting, degradation, slight public sex, y/n is tied up and gagged, edging, they’re switches your honour! (but also dom!momo)

w/c: 5.7k

a/n: first this first that first smut :P been obsessed w lower stomach tattoos lately theyre so fucking hot its like my version of a happy trail on a woman 🤤

｡･:*˚:✧｡

your girlfriend momo was keeping her new tattoo a secret from you. she got it while she was overseas and everytime you asked her for a picture or for her to show you while you were video-calling, she refused and you were left imagining.

not today though. she was finally coming back from her month long work trip and you were determined to see the new piece of art etched onto your lover’s skin.

unfortunately you weren't able to greet her at the airport because she had a work meeting right upon arrival so you had to resort to waiting for nightfall, before all your mutual friends would head to the club for a reunion.

you slip on a short red dress that highlighted your ass and left little to imagination. you were midway through drawing your eyeliner when she texted,

m ♡ : baby what r u wearing tn?

y/n : why do u wanna know 😠

m ♡ : ur not still mad at me r u? :(

y/n : what do u think.

m ♡ : can u stop answering my questions with questions pls, i’ll show u tn baby 🥺

you scoff.

y/n : yeah along with everyone else. whys it so secret anyway? yk i love you no matter what if thats what ur afraid of

m ♡ : its not that baby ik u do and ily too 🩷 you’ll understand when u see it why i couldn’t show u

y/n : wtf is that supposed to mean 😠 wtv, u can see what im wearing when u see me later tn

you put your phone down in faux annoyance, letting her messages come through but not bothering to read them while you continue applying your makeup. you weren’t actually annoyed with her, maybe a little hurt that whatever she’s hiding her other friends had already seen on her business trip, and if it really was something she was ashamed of or regretted getting, which was totally understandable you’ve had your fair share of bad drunk decisions, you thought she knew you enough to trust you with these things.

ugh whatever. you weren’t trying to soil your night with something so small. you were also excited to see momo again after a whole month of being apart, so ready for her to pick you up and slam you against a wall with her lips against your neck whispering how much she missed you during her trip. god okay maybe you were a little horny too but who wouldn’t be after being completely untouched by their partner for a whole month. you rub your thighs together.

maybe you could put on an extra little something for momo. only to get back at her a little. show her you could play this game too. tease something she could only know, but not be able to do anything about.

you hum as you go towards your closet, searching for what you were looking for.

you smirked slightly as your fingers grasped the small bullet vibrator, grabbing its corresponding remote. you head back towards the bed, spreading your legs, finding yourself plenty wet already with thoughts about how hot momo would look desperate and thrusting fingers into you at an unbelievable pace.

you bite your lip at the thought, tracing the small vibrator along your outer lips, coating it in your essence, letting it catch at your clit and moving it back down towards your entrance before repeating.

you quickly grab your phone and snap a picture of the vibrator covered in your slick, sending it to your girlfriend.

y/n : sent a picture.

y/n : what im wearing tn

m ♡ : what the fuck y/n. im at work

y/n : you asked me what i was gonna wear 🤷‍♀️

you grin while waiting for her reply, knowing she was probably flustered with that adorable flush across her cheeks. you slip the vibrator inside yourself, clenching around it wishing so badly it was momo’s fingers or strap inside you instead.

m ♡ : you fucking knew what i meant y/n. you better not be touching urself rn. ur mine to ruin tonight.

you whimper slightly as you start tracing circles over your clit with the vibrator still off inside you.

y/n : so what if i am? u can’t do anything about it

m ♡ : you fucking brat u don’t wanna play this game with me rn.

y/n : oh but sweetie you started it. im just playing my move. maybe u shoulda given me what i wanted when i asked politely. now ur gonna have to spend the entire night knowing there’s a vibe going off inside of me while we’re with all of our friends.

you snap another picture, spreading your lips open with your fingers to show the vibrator inside you.

y/n : sent a picture.

you don’t bother waiting for her reply, hoisting yourself up and getting ready to go. you thought it’d be best not to get yourself off just yet, leave yourself nice and wet for her for when she’d eventually tear your clothes off.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

bass pounding, sweaty bodies grinding against each other, and flashing lights. all that was missing was momo. all your friends had arrived already, momo’s coworker saying she was kept behind a little late and would be here as soon as she could.

as much as you wanted to tease her you were also worried that she was taking so long. you were about to grab your phone and call her when she finally walks in.

and holy fuck.

hips swaying in low rise jeans that hugged her legs in the most delectable way. tits hidden in a hardly modest top that covered her belly button in a v shape and left her ab lines out in proud display. but most importantly… the fresh tattoo that adorned her lower stomach. if tramp stamps were hot this… this was a whole other level.

suddenly the vibrator in you that was at the lowest setting felt like nothing. you needed her pounding into you right fucking now.

she spots you and smirks, knowing exactly what you were thinking. god you missed her, your drenched state was proof of that enough.

she stalks towards you, your eyes never leaving those dangerous hips as they sway from side to side with each step.

you play it cool, leaning back against the bar, but feeling yourself clench at the sight.

“hey baby.” her voice is deep and raspy, fuck you’ve missed it. she closes in on you, placing her arms on both sides of you on the bar, trapping you in.

your fingers can’t help but grab her hips desperately, gripping hard. “so this is what you’ve been hiding from me.”

she leans in closer, speaking with that sexy husk of hers into your ear, “i knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me if i’d shown it to you earlier. you’d probably book a flight just to see me knowing how impulsive you are.” she tuts, “bet you wanna get down on your knees right now and get me off with your tongue. trace the tatt and make it yours. you don’t care that all our friends and the entire club would see. you’d like it actually, wouldn’t you? little slut, want the entire world to know how good you are with that mouth huh?”

you’re not given a second to respond as she pushes a thigh between your legs unceremoniously and you gasp at the sudden friction, whimpering into her ear.

“that good huh? how long have you been fucking yourself here for anyone to see? how many times have you cum?”

you can barely get out, “n-none, fuck momo i need you please- ” your eyes close, burying your head into her neck, humping against her thigh to give yourself any friction at all.

“so you’re a brat and a liar now huh? think you can get yourself off on my thigh right now?” she rips away from you suddenly leaving you gasping for breath, hands trailing after her hips, “gotta meet the rest of the gang baby.” she’s sporting a devilish look on her face as she grabs your hand and pulls you along, “this is a reunion after all.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

momo is positively evil. she’s spent the entire night showing off her new tattoo, her outfit alone highlighted exactly what she wanted, and anyone who looked at her would follow the lines of her clothes and body down to where only you were supposed to have access to.

she also makes a point of teasing you to no end. grabbing your ass, pulling you down into her lap when you’re all seated and grinding you down into her thigh. you almost came then and there but she pushes you off of her at the last moment.

you’ve had enough.

you’re seated on opposite ends of the the booth now since she was catching up with some of her friends that you only really knew by name.

you make sure to catch her eye when you turn the vibrator in you all the way up. your legs clench and you have to shuffle in your seat as discreetly as you can.

she raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing.

it doesn’t take much because you’ve been built up for so long and her gaze on you as you grab the table, knuckles turning white, combined with the risk of literally cumming in a public space next to all your friends gets to you.

pleasure washes over you, if only briefly as you cum, eyes closing and mouth opening slightly.

“hey y/n, you okay?”

your eyes snap back open as you turn to your friend, “y-yeah, just a little antsy i g-guess.”

momo’s jaw is clenched so hard you’re afraid she’ll break her teeth.

“oh! we should all get up and dance then! it’d be good to finally join in anyway.” another friend perks up and now everyone’s making their way to the dance floor, your post-orgasmic blissed self following them before your pulled back by a strong grip.

“what the fuck was that?”

you feel yourself dripping again.

you ignore her, pulling her along onto the dance floor, desperate to be closer to her.

“did you just fucking cum?” she’s relentless, pulling you into her hard, arm wrapped possessively around your waist.

you hum along to the music, grinding into her, “no.”

“fucking liar. i know what you look like when you cum. and now so does everyone else in this fucking club.” she’s snarling, hand moving down to grope your ass roughly, “that face is mine. this ass is mine. no one else should be able to see or touch what’s mine. and you’re gonna regret giving them that.”

you smirk, “make me.”

“one month away and you’ve forgotten your place. i’m gonna have to fix this new attitude of yours.” she’s slipping her hand into the hidden pouch of your dress, stealing the vibrator remote away from you.

“‘s your fault. you didn’t prepare me for this.” you run your fingers across her stomach, “if you had, maybe i wouldn’t be so needy. you should just take me home and fuck me right now.”

she growls, “oh no. you’re getting fucked like the slut you are. right here in front of everyone.” she flicks the vibrator up a notch, your hands grip her shoulders but she pulls away quickly.

hoisting herself up onto a small platform nearby, she grabs the pole in the center of it, and starts to dance.

her hooded eyes are on you the entire time as she drops to the floor, turning and bringing herself back up, full ass on display and you think you drool a little but you're not sure because she's somehow cranked the vibrator up again. whoops and cheers as she climbs the pole, spinning with sexy elegance showing off her core strength, abs flexing, breasts pushed together. she comes back in and grinds her front against the pole.

then, and you don’t even know how it happens because you’re so focused on not cumming, she’s suddenly upside down, legs clinging to the pole, cheeky smirk right in front of you as she yanks you in by the neck and kisses you for the first time that night.

you moan against her immediately, she's sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and bites, and you’re helpless against her as she ravages you. you can barely keep up, not even kissing her back just panting into her mouth with hot breaths as she licks into you, invading all of your senses, you're so close to cumming.

you're incoherent as you moan into her, she turns the vibrator all the way up, smirking against you as she feels your mouth go slack and you cum.

but just as sudden as it came, she switches off the vibrator, is off the pole immediately, tugging you through the crowd, yelling something at your friends that you can't make out, and hailing down a cab.

you're barely conscious and mourning the loss of an incredible orgasm. she let you come, but stripped it away from you just as quickly, it could barely classify as an orgasm.

her hand is on your thigh the entire ride back to your place, she's gripping you and inching her hand up your dress. the vibrator turns on again and you jolt, stifling a moan as the cab driver looks at you in the mirror in mild concern.

you grab her arm pausing her ministrations, whispering desperately, "f-fuck mo- c-can't, 's too much-"

she chuckles darkly, "you're the one who begged me to take you home and fuck you. you're gonna take what you get now."

the short drive feels excruciatingly long as her nails rake the inside of your thighs. finally you're home and you're pulling her out of the car and up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys as she moulds herself to your back, kissing your neck and nipping at your ear.

the door opens and you almost fall in but she catches you and slams you against the door again, closing it as she immediately latches on to your lips.

"fuck baby- god- do you know what you- fucking do to me?" she's mumbling between kisses as you wrap your legs around her waist, her hands immediately going to grip your ass as she pushes you into the door further, hips grinding against your core.

you're a mess, you need her inside of you now. "b-bedroom."

she doesn't take any convincing and lifts you up. your panties are absolutely soiled by now and she could probably feel it against her bare stomach as you grind along her abs.

she throws you onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lips attacking every exposed sliver of skin available to her. you moan as she hikes your dress up, knee pressing into your center.

hazily, you remember what got you this worked up in the first place. and with a glance down, you're overcome with a need.

surprising her with your strength, you're flipping her over and working at the zipper of her jeans, "need to eat you out now. please."

she moans, "fuck baby alright. you're gonna look so fucking hot between my legs, the new tatt crowning your head."

you’re kissing down her body after successfully undoing her jeans and sliding them down her legs. a free hand moves up to grope roughly at a breast and she arches into your touch. you stop once you reach her belly button, pulling yourself up a little to admire her new art.

she's staring at you with lust and rubbing her thighs together at the way you're devouring her with your eyes.

your fingers come down and lightly trace the sharp lines and shapes as she jolts up. you follow the lines on the left side of her lower stomach, tracing down to right above her pussy. you were obsessed. the twin patterns lead directly to her center, bringing your attention to the pathetic excuse for underwear still covering momo's pussy.

you lean down, licking along the tattoo, and her hands are in your hair immediately, tugging and pulling, trying to get you to where she needed you most. but you resisted, licking over every sliver of inked skin, biting down and marking her on the sensitive spot just above her hipbone.

"still can't believe you hid this from me for a whole fucking month."

she bucks up into you, "you woulda put everything down just to see me. and i couldn't have you doing what you're doing right now a month ago when it was still fresh. gotta protect the skin y'know."

you scoff, "coulda at least sent a picture or showed me on video call when i asked." you bite down again and suck, leaving a dark purple mark next to one particular stroke of ink.

"f-fuck baby. first of all- ah- tattoos aren't pretty when they're healing. they're all flaky and red and really gross. second, oh shit- i told you -mmf- i wasn't gonna tempt you to come to me, you have a life and a job but you don't care about any of that when it comes to me."

you get her panties between your teeth, and slowly pull them down her legs, admiring the way slick clings between the material and her exposed pussy. you fling them to the side once they're off. "yeah cos i love you idiot."

"and i love you too but you were not about to fly halfway across the world just to fuck me."

you hmph in annoyance, "guess i'll have to make up for it now then since you've kept this from me for so long." and before she gets a chance to reply you're diving in, licking long straight lines up from her entrance to her clit.

her hands fly to your hair again, keeping you there, gripping your head, thighs closing around your ears. you can still hear her moans as you suck her clit into your mouth and tongue it from side to side, releasing it with a pop and moving down to collect the gush that comes out of her.

oh how you've missed this taste. the heady scent of hers driving you insane as you take inhales through your nose while your mouth is at work.

you look up at her, back arched and head flung back onto the pillow, chest heaving as she crumbles around you. with the new tattoo crowning her pussy, you've never seen anything hotter in your life.

"please y/n. inside- fuck- need you- inside."

you hum against her pussy, the vibrations pulling another gush of wetness out of her as you tease a finger along her entrance.

she's grinding down desperately, "fuck- please- fuck y/n-"

you slowly insert your finger, moaning at how tight she is and how her pussy sucks you in, clenching around you. you don't give her a second to adjust as you start pounding away, sucking her clit into your mouth harshly, fingers pumping in and out of her with practiced speed.

she howls and her grip on your head tightens, you can feel her getting closer as it becomes harder to thrust in and out with how tight she's pulling you in.

"f-fuck! y/n! f-fuck. cumming!" she gushes as you keep thrusting into her, helping her through her high and licking back up to her tattoo, sucking another mark onto her pretty skin.

she relaxes as you pull your fingers out of her, bringing them to your mouth and sucking. you crawl back up kissing gently as she catches her breath, an arm thrown over her eyes. you’re kissing her neck when she abruptly flips you around, smirking down at you, hair cascading her face.

"you've had your fun now. i think it's time i teach you that lesson we were talking about earlier hm?"

her hands are lightning fast as she pulls down the zipper of your dress, slipping it off your body leaving you in your lace red bra and panties. a finger finds its way down to your crotch as she lightly presses down on your clit and you arch your back into her, moaning her name.

"so wet baby. now i'm gonna ask you again and i don't want you to lie to me this time. how many times did you cum tonight?"

"t-two!"

a hand comes down slapping your clothed pussy as you yelp, scrambling away before she yanks your hips back into place and holds you there.

"what did i just say about lying?"

"'m not lying- please!"

she breaks character for a moment, eyes softening as she looks at you with an adoring gaze, "y'know the safe word baby?"

you nod, "raccoon."

she smiles and leans down to peck you, "good girl, don't be scared to use it mmk?"

you nod desperately, "momo please- i'll be good please, please just fuck me."

her eyes narrow again, "it's too late to be good. let's count them hm? first you interrupt me at work, then you disobey me and touch yourself, even going as far as to make yourself cum in front of all of our friends. and let's not forget the bratty attitude you've been giving me all night. you're the furthest thing from good right now." her hands are back at your clit, circling and rubbing until you're squirming under her.

"didn't mean it! just wanted -ah- you to fuck me! not my fault you couldn't do that."

a hand comes down hard on your pussy.

"there's that attitude again. think i'm gonna need to gag you."

your eyes widen at the image, leaking onto her palm.

"you like that? such a slut, getting wet over the thought of being restrained. in fact, let's tie you up too so you don't get any funny ideas."

she's up and back in seconds, gag and silk ties in hand. she makes you strip completely and you feel yourself blush slightly as her gaze on you remains like a hawk.

as opposed to her harsher words, she's gentle while tying you up, making sure the ties are comfortable and not hurting you. your heart flutters at the care she takes and the constant checking in. once you’re all tied up and gagged, spread-eagled with limbs attached to all 4 bedposts, she makes you signal your safe action and as soon as she’s satisfied you’re comfortable with everything, she’s crawling over you again and spreading your legs.

“so so pretty for me. look at you, dripping onto the sheets.” she runs a finger through your now naked folds as you buck up, pleading for anything.

"so much prettier now that we've shut that foul mouth up too. shame i can't kiss you anymore though." she pouts as she spreads your folds with both hands, blowing gently.

the cold air hits your clit and you shiver slightly in pleasure.

"gonna take this out now," she's pulling the vibrator out of you and you suddenly feel so empty even though the vibrator wasn't too big to begin with.

you're fighting against the restraints, muscles all tense and in anticipation.

"oh don't worry," a dark look passes over momo's face, "i'll fill you up soon enough."

a finger enters you agonisingly slow, and pulls out even slower. she's kissing up your stomach, and takes an erect nipple into her mouth as she repeats this.

you're straining and pulling but she's relaxed, sucking at your tit and kitten licking your nipple. the hand that's not inside you comes up to the other breast, kneading gently and you want to cry. you need things rough and fast and hard and she's giving you the complete opposite. she switches breasts, but doesn't up her pace at all, taking her leisurely time as you writhe underneath her, completely at her control.

your muffled words against the gag make no sense and she comes up and kisses the side of your lip, "shhhhh, baby relax. relax and enjoy it would you?" she continues her kisses to your ears, licking the shell and biting down softly on your earlobe. the hand that's at your breast pinches a nipple and twists. her tongue trails to behind your ear, and then down to the sensitive skin of your neck where she begins to suck lightly. her hand moves to the other nipple and twists it as well, the painful pleasure is driving you insane and you're clenching your jaw around the gag so hard you might just bite into it.

all while her other hand has been pushing in and out of you at the same slow pace she's started in. sometimes she'd be generous and brush against your clit but none of this was going to be able to make you cum.

"if you think you're cumming again tonight you're dead wrong by the way." she hums against your collarbone, "you've come however many times already so the rest of the night you're gonna lie here and look pretty while i take my time making love to every inch of skin i've missed for a month."

you curse internally, eyes tearing up as you subject yourself to her play. she's relentless and unforgiving for the next half an hour. teasing nips, slow licks, and slower fingering.

finally, it seems like she's speeding up a little. thrusting into you with a little more power wt every in, and pulling out a little faster with every out. the hand that has abused your breasts for the last 30 minutes starts gripping harder, pulling at your nipples and pinching them with vigor, twisting, sucking, and flicking her tongue over them and you're building up so quickly after being left stimulated for so long.

she hums against you, "so fucking pretty like this."

you moan as her pace picks up, two fingers pushing in and out of you, hard enough that your breasts start to bounce with each thrust and she adores that, pulling back to watch as the saliva-slicked mounds bounce with each thrust. a third finger enters and your eyes widen, her gaze set on you making you clench around her as you come closer and closer to the edge.

she's leaning down again and blowing against your wet nipples and you're so close to coming and-

fuck! she's stopped completely, hovering over you with a teasing smile on her face that you would give anything to wipe off right now. she coos, "awwwwwwh you look so adorable frowning like that. is my baby mad? mad she didn't get to cum?"

you nod, your eyebrows creasing together.

"well what'd i say earlier hm? you've had your share today. you're going to learn how to stop being so selfish and greedy after you've already come so many times."

she's sliding down your stomach now, grinning up at you from between your legs, before swooping in, tongue hot against your folds as she sucks and licks and bites.

you're writhing again, so easily built up and you come so close, so fucking close, trying your hardest to close your thighs around her head to trap her there but the silk ties prevent you from doing so. and she pulls away again. you want to pull your hair out in frustration.

she's looking at you in amusement. moving off and going to grab something you can't see because you're still tied to this fucking bed.

when she returns she's sporting an 8-inch strap on that bobs along as happily as she is when she skips over towards you. it's almost absurd how adorable she looks with a fake pink dick attached to her and you'd laugh but you just need her inside you so fucking bad you're crying instead.

she's on you again, dragging the lubed up strap along your folds, letting it catch at your clit before moving back down towards your entrance and repeating.

she giggles as you frown, "i'm gonna fuck you until i cum now. if you cum i'm stopping and riding this myself while you watch tied up. understand?"

you nod quickly, needing her to just get inside you already.

she pecks your nose and starts to slide in. you're already moaning at the feeling, pussy clenching and pulling her in deeper until she bottoms out, hips meeting, skin touching.

she lets out a low breath, "fuuck y/n. you have no idea how fucking good you look right now."

she watches in awe as she pulls out, strap even wetter than it was before it went in, and she pushes back in roughly without warning.

"mmph!" you're caught off guard, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sudden combination of pain and pleasure that leaves you reeling.

she doesn't take her time this round. she's pulling out and pushing back in before you know it, setting a ruthless pace as she pants above you, eyes locked on the way she was splitting you open with every upward thrust.

your eyes drift down to her breasts, still trapped within her bra and you desperately wish you could free them, suck on her nipples or play with her mounds, or just watch them bounce up and down as she rutted into you.

she's huffing when she notices your gaze, "s-slut wanting- hah- my tits h-huh?" she stops for a second, hilted inside you as she quickly unclasps her bra and pulls it off, returning to her unforgiveable pace. "mm- there- fuck- you go. can't do anything about it because your tied up and gagged but you appreciate the view don't you?" she's smirking as she pushes herself upward, running a hand through her messy hair as she continues to plunge into you and you think you could die right now.

she brings a hand up to a breast and squeezes, nipple coming out between fingers as she pulls and twists it, moaning at the feeling, head falling back exposing her pretty neck. you're trying your hardest to focus on her and not how close you were to cumming and she's giving you the perfect distraction.

you falter though, as your eyes drift further down, reminded again of the tattoo that outlines her hips, clenching hard as the sight of her lower abs prominently drawing your attention to her strap.

"eugh- you're so fucking- uh- tight around me baby. fuck- are you gonna cum? it's getting harder to pull out with how hard you're -mmf- clenching."

you can't handle everything that's going on. the build up of the entire day creeping into a tight ball in your stomach.

and then she's pulling out again and you lurch forward with a cry. no! god you were so close again fuck!

but before you knew it you felt the ties around your limbs loosening and the gag being taken out of your mouth. you're flipped around onto your hands and knees and she's pushing back into you at an even rougher angle that scratched just the spot to make you see stars.

"fuck! fuck fuck fuck-" you can finally be vocal again as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, the bedhead thumping against the wall with how rough momo was pounding into you.

"yeah? you -ugh- like that?"

"fuck yes! oh fuck you're so deep inside me mo- please, please let me cum i need to cum around you, please,"

she moans pulling you up so you're only on your knees, "yeah? fuck- you think you -shit- deserve to cum after all this?"

you're crying as you feel a hand slip down your stomach and rub against your clit roughly, "yes please! i've been so good i- fuck- please! momo!"

another hand comes up and pinches your nipple, she's thrusting into you at an impossible speed, heavy breaths against your ear muttering curses, "fine. cum y/n. cum for me."

you let go with glee, falling down onto the mattress as her hands move back to your hips, pistoning into you trying to reach her own high. you feel her spasm and moan, falling onto your back, still lightly thrusting as the both of you ride out your highs together. you don't think you've had an orgasm this good since the first time she used the strap on you, the build up of your ruined orgasm at the club and the several times momo edged you tonight coming to climax.

heavy breaths fill the room as you both try and catch your winds again. she's the first to pull out slowly, and you groan at the feeling, pussy still sensitive from the fucking you got. she tosses the strap to the side, cuddling into your back, wrapping an arm around your midriff.

you turn in her arms, snuggling into her chest and breathing in her scent. her hands come up to brush through your hair relaxingly, and you're brought back to the world listening to her heartbeat slow down.

your hand comes up and lightly traces over her tattoo again, and she hums in pleasure at the feeling.

"good?" she asks.

you chuckle into her chest, "so fucking good i think i almost peed myself."

she snorts that loveable snort that you've missed and kisses your forehead. "speaking of peeing, c'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."

you whine, clutching her waist, "noooooo 10 minutes pleaseeeeee."

she rolls her eyes fondly, "you're going to fall asleep."

"'m not." but a yawn betrays you.

she laughs, "yes you will. c'mon."

you groan as she pulls you up, eyes flickering down again to her tattoo.

"i love it mo."

she smiles, "i knew you would you big idiot."

"don't keep stuff from me again."

"yeah yeah, you're a big girl and you can act mature, suuuure."

you stomp your foot like a child, blushing when she laughs at the action proving exactly what she just implied.

"fine you're right, but doesn't mean i like you for it."

"shut up dork, you love me."

you sigh, meeting her eyes, overwhelmed with the way you feel for her, "yeah... yeah i do."

she smiles dragging you towards the bathroom, "i love you too dummy. now let's get cleaned up before you catch a cold."

you sneeze and she laughs at you but you think you're probably the luckiest person alive to be able to be with your girlfriend.

#momo #twice momo #hirai momo #momo smut #twice smut #momo x reader #momo x fem!reader #momo x f!reader #momo imagines #twice imagines #twice x reader #royaltozaki

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 days

Text

One Love (6)

Hi guys :)

This is the new one for my Luna's serie. I hope you will enjoy it, please let me know what you thought about it :)

TW : Injury, blood, surgery.

It was a summer break. Everything is supposed to be fine; Lucy and Ona were supposed to be enjoying her holidays, but there is something bothering Lucy for days now. And it has nothing to do with the surgery she had some days ago for her knee and being able to play at least one more year. She was looking to be able to play at the next World Cup to be honest. Only Ona knew it because she didn’t say anything to someone else.

And Ona was taking so good care of her. She was even more gentle and caring than ever, even if her usual nature makes her be. Lucy has seriously started to ask herself if her girlfriend have the ability to read her mind. Because, sometimes, she just thinks about something and several seconds after, Ona is asking if she wants that precise thing. The first time she thought it was the hazard, but living with it constantly since days now, it’s a little bit scary.

Because of the surgery, she has an impressive amount of kiss, hugs and massages, which she really doesn’t mind. She doesn’t have the right to go swimming for now, but just sitting by the pool with her feet in it while looking at her girlfriend in the water is enough for her happiness.

That’s exactly what she was doing at this moment. Because of the surgery, they didn’t go to Menorca or another place, Lucy needs to rest and it was obvious that Ona wouldn’t let her do something stupid. When she comes to Lucy, Ona doesn’t take support on Lucy’s knees like she usually did. She put her arms on the edge of the swimming pool and let her cheek rest on one of her arms to look at her girlfriend.

“Are you alright?” Ona asks gently.

“I’m fine” Lucy responds, even if her mind was spiraling some seconds ago. “I’m a little hot maybe.”

“You’re always hot” Ona smirks.

Lucy snorts and look at the Spaniard getting out the pool. Coco and Narla are both laying somewhere in the garden in the shadow of a palm tree. It’s hot today, Lucy’s right.

“Where are you going?” Lucy asks while looking at Ona.

“Taking you something to drink. You have to stay hydrate, mi Vida.”

“Don’t go inside with your feet wet, you’re going to make marks on the floor.”

Ona mimics her while getting up, making Lucy laughs slightly. The English woman hit Ona’s thigh with her hand in a playful way in return. Ona could have let things like this, but just when Lucy turns back, the youngest leans over her to wring her long hair, dripping fresh water into Lucy’s back.

Lucy yelps, making jump the two dogs who should definitively be used to these kinds of fights.

“You’re so dead, Batlle.”

Ona giggles, running into the house. She loses time opening the door of the safety gate surrounding the pool, allowing Lucy time to get up. The dark-haired woman chases Ona inside and she’s sure that she almost heard Narla sighs before she lays down again.

“Your feet!” Lucy shout to Ona when the Spaniard reach the inside of the house and she sees footprints on the floor.

Of course, Ona slips. But, by a miracle-like reflex, Lucy managed to catch her before she bumped her head on the ground. The team would have been mad to learn that their player got a concussion while fooling around her house.

“Are you going to torture me with kisses?” Ona asks with a smirk, standing up again.

“No. More like I will torture you not kissing you.”

“What? Lucy you can’t do that!”

********

Several hours later, both of them are laying on one lounge chair. To apologize, Ona made Sangria and with some crisps it’s even better. Minding Lucy’s injured knee, Ona is still wrapped around Lucy. Who definitively kissed her several times despite her treats.

“We should make it one for when our parents met what do you think?”

Lucy immediately tenses up when Ona addresses the subject that has worried her terribly since several days. At first, she thought that’s it was great idea, her parents meeting Ona’s parents, her brothers getting along together with her nephew and her niece in the middle of all that. But now she’s scared as hell. What if something goes wrong? They don’t even speak the same language.

“No?”

Ona’s voice takes Lucy back in reality and she looks at her girlfriend with a fake smile.

“Yeah”

“What’s going on?”

Ona frowns slightly. Of course she realizes that something was on her girlfriend’s mind. She just doesn’t know what.

“Nothing, I’m just… What if our family don’t get along?”

Ona seems so surprised that Lucy almost regret having talked about her fears. At least they would have one to be optimistic about this diner.

“Why won’t they get along?” Ona asks.

“At first because they don’t talk the same language? I know that your brother can talk English and that you can translate if something’s needed to, but how the hell are they suppose to talk together?”

Lucy is agitated, Ona can tell. That means that her fears are real and Ona is talking with her most soothing voice when she answers.

“Like you said, our brothers get along well so it’s a pretty good start. I’m sure that your nephew and your niece will be a great entertainment if things are a little tense at first. But I don’t think it will be that way.”

Lucy hums, letting Ona’s stroke on her arm calm her a little bit.

“Plus, their sons get along well, but their daughters get along pretty well too”

Ona said smirking, kissing lovingly Lucy’s neck. It was another attempt to help Lucy to relax, but she feels the English woman’s body tense again.

“Oh my god. Are they like no sex before marriage or something?!”

Ona bursts of laughing this time, pushing a little on her arms to sit down and have a better look at Lucy. Hearing Ona’s high laugh makes Lucy smile and Ona is almost crying laughing when she talks again.

“Do you think they would have let me play football and will still talking to me if they were conservative or something? Have you seen me?” Ona giggles. “You are the first of my girlfriend they have met, but they knew I had others before you.”

Lucy grumbles this time, not really liking to hear about Ona’s past relationship, which she knows is totally hypocritical of her because Ona sees Keira almost every day. Without another word, she takes Ona against her again with authority.

Ona is still smiling about her girlfriend’s concern but put her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder again. She strokes softy Lucy’s bad knee and think a little before saying something else.

“Everything’s gonna be alright mi Vida. As long as your father don’t say that he supports Real Madrid, it’s going to be ok.”

“He better not” Lucy snorts.

********

Ona was right. Their family get along pretty well, their differences of language being erased by Lucy’s dad’s Portuguese and Ona’s mother’s basic English. She almost learn it only earing Lucy and Ona talking together but it was enough to have a great conversation with the Bronze.

“You are lucky to have two grandchildren already” Ona’s mom says at one time during the diner.

Alfred and Alzira were playing with Narla and Coco in the garden after the dessert. Ona and her brother Joan, sitting next to each other, exchange a glance. Lucy almost chock on her sangria, making Jorge smirks at her sister in front of him. Ona spat her girlfriend on her back. They already talked about having kids together, but that’s true that they never talk about it to their relatives.

“Yes, I am” answers Diane Bronze, smiling when the Batlle’s stay silence. “Maybe I’ll have more one day.”

“Oh, so you want a third?” Joan asks Jorge, ready to push her sister under the bus to save his ass.

“Nah, not at all” he laughs. “I love my children, but two is enough. Now that I can sleep at night again, no one will never take that away from me again.

“Two is good” Lucy mumbles, glancing at Ona from the corner of her eyes.

“Joan is older and with his girlfriend for longer” Ona points, not having missed her brother move. “It would make sense if he has kids first.”

Ona smirks when Joan try to crush her foot under the table and miss because she moves on her chair. The shift makes her closer to Lucy, who kind of mistake her girlfriend’s movement, thinking that Ona is looking for some physical touch. The Catalan woman really doesn’t mind when Lucy puts her hand on her lower back though.

They all are saved from this conversation by Narla barking when Coco tries to steel one of her rocks.

Later that night, when Ona’s family is back to Villassar de Mar and Lucy’s is in their room, Ona can’t stop to think about the conversation they had about children. She wants to have children with Lucy, but they both are professionals women footballers, being pregnant mean to have to stop for like nine months at best. Lucy said she wanted to carry a child first after she stops playing, but she wants to be able to play the next World Cup, in 2027. Won’t it be too far from now?

Lucy, who was checking that the doors were closed, fine her girlfriend standing up in front of the bay windows of their bedroom, lost in her thoughts. So lost that she doesn’t hear her coming. Ona jumps when Lucy takes her against her, her front glued against Ona’s back.

“What’s torturing your mind, Beautiful?” Lucy whispers.

“Nothing” Ona answers before turning in Lucy’s arms to cuddle against her. “Today was great.”

“It was” Lucy smiles softly.

Her concerns were useless and she’s very relieved to see that everyone had a great day. But she feels like her girlfriend is hiding something from her and she doesn’t really like it.

“I can hear your brain, Bonita.”

“Yeah? What are you hearing?” Ona smirks.

“That you are hiding heavy thoughts from me.”

“That’s an easy answer.”

Ona is smiling when she looks up at Lucy, who put a strand of Ona’s hair behind her ear. She doesn’t have to ask Ona to talk to her one more time, the Spaniard opening easily to her.

“I was thinking about the conversation from today, about children.”

“What about it?”

“You said that two children are good, were you saying that to stick with your brother or was it more for us?”

“Oh, for both of it” Lucy shrugs. “I think that two is a perfect number honestly. When you are three, I feel like there is always one who is away from the two others, look at my sister. I’m pretty sure that almost no one know that I have a sister.”

Ona nods, following Lucy in their bed when she takes her by the hand. She only has a brother herself and she’s not sure that she would have get along so well with him if she had another. Or a sister.

“Would you rather have boys or girls?” Ona asks with curiosity.

“I don’t really care. All I want is healthy children with the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“And here was I, thinking that you wanted to have children with me” Ona sighs dramatically.

Lucy pinches her ribs, making her squeak and trying to escape Lucy’s arms. But Lucy doesn’t let her, stopping her tickling only when she scared to wake the children up. When she stops, she was on top of Ona, her faces separated by only several centimeters.

“I love you, even if you are an idiot sometimes” Lucy whispers before kissing her.

“I love you too” Ona smiles softly. “But you can stop your kisses now, because there’s now way we are doing anything with your family around.”

“Oh, come on.”

********

Some days after that, the break is over, and the season is starting again. Lucy’s knee seems to be good enough for her to play without having a care to give for now, or at least more things to think about it. It’s a good news for both of them, Lucy being happy to be able to play like this and Ona seeing her girl being happy. With Mapi back from injury, they are almost always starting in the defense every match, unless some of them is being rested.

Their families went to the first game together, before the Bronze had to go back to England. It was noticed by the fans of course, but none of them is bothered by that by now. Ona and Lucy still chose to stay private but not secret, even if the video of them kissing in the crow of a football stadium went viral.

They are playing against Levante today and they went to Valence to play the game. After the training, when they are sitting on their cubby, Ona comes to Lucy before going in the tunnel.

“How’s your knee mi Vida?” Ona asks softly.

“I’m fine Princesa. Stop worrying, you’ll be older than me soon.”

Ona rolls her eyes but help her getting up anyway. They slowly follow the other in the tunnel, talking with Salma and Jana.

The game went great, Ona knows some of the players from the other team, but like always she putted her relationships on the back of her head for the game. It’s not the same after the game though, and the Catalan woman always enjoy catching up a little bit with her friends like this.

It’s ironically one of them who take Ona down, soon after the beginning of the second part. It was one fair challenge, until her opponent casually shoves her crampons into her ankle while walking on her foot.

Ona’s cry of pain is audible in all the stadium. Alexia is at her level when Ona grabs her foot in pain and the blonde saw Lucy coming straight for them. It was what Alexia thought, until Lucy passes right next to them and go right for the girl who hurt Ona.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she shouts, pushing her hard.

Ona gets distracted from her bleeding ankle by the scene.

“Stop her, please” Ona whispers to Mariona, crouched beside her.

The Majorcan sights softly before getting up to stop the scene before Lucy get carted with red. It would already be a miracle if she doesn’t have a yellow.

“Lucy come on, breath” Mariona says a little harsher than Aitana who were actually trying to stop Lucy.

The English woman glares at Mariona, but she doesn’t seem impressed by it.

“She could have broken her ankle!”

“I know but she doesn’t. Your girlfriend is currently getting treated, so maybe you want to check on her before the game starts again no?”

Lucy sighs, rolls her eyes to the referee when she shows her a yellow card but jog to find her girlfriend. Ona’s sock is red with blood and Lucy grimaces when she saw that the team needed to cut it with a scissor to take it off.

Alexia sends her a disapproval look when she crouched next to Ona. The Spaniard is laying on her back, one arm on her face while one of them team medic is currently stitching her wounds.

“Hey” Lucy says softy, removing Ona’s arm from her face. “You’re ok?”

“Yeah” Ona answers, without loosening her jaw. “Did you get a yellow or a red?”

“Yellow” Lucy answers absent-mindedly, looking at her girlfriend’s injury. “Will you be able to play after that?”

“She won’t” one nurse answers for her.

Ona pouts and Lucy squeeze her hand. Thanks god, even if she has several stitches, it doesn’t seem to be a bad injury. Lucy looks up when she hears her name being called. The game is about to start again. And, even if she doesn’t want to, Lucy has to be back.

Not being subbed until the end of the game, Lucy had to watch Ona getting out of her view to received other care and maybe painkiller. She doesn’t reappear until the 92nd minute, some seconds before the referee whistles the end of the game.

When Ona came back on the pitch with crutches, Lucy feels her heart tightens a little bit. She made her way to Ona, passing a protective arm around her shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I got six stitches though.”

“If Mariona didn’t stop me, she will have got six stitches too” Lucy grumbles.

“Even if it was hot, I’m glad she stops you. I was the one sending her, to be honest.”

Lucy pouts but doesn’t have time to answer anything, other people coming to check on Ona. Staying next to her like a bodyguard, Lucy glares so hard to the girl who hurts Ona that she didn’t come to excuse herself one more time. At some point, she passes her arm around Ona waist to help her staying up. And when it was time to go to the changing room, Lucy doesn’t hesitate one second to take her girlfriend in her arms to carry her inside, in a bride style.

Ona took good care of her during the summer, it’s her turn now.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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ninyard · 1 day

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“God, how blind can you be?”

That would be such a great line for a kevjean confession if Jean ever told Kevin abt his crush on him in the nest.

Ty, have a great day :))

You’re a genius!!! Here’s Kevin being Oblivious and Confused while Jean admits how he’s always felt about him :))

“Can I ask you something?” Kevin lay in Jeremy’s bed, on top of the covers, with arms outstretched and his feet dangling off the edge. “But you can’t get defensive, because I’m not the one who’s wondering.”

“Now I am obligated to be defensive.” Jean was sitting on his back up against the wall on his own bed, scribbling notes in a notebook for an assignment due far too soon. Kevin had texted him earlier that morning saying that he was in town, and with Jeremy at home because it was a weekday, alongside the schoolwork Jean had started to fall behind on, the best way for the two to catch up was to invite Kevin over. “Ask, then.”

“Are you…” Kevin sat himself up to look at Jean before he continued. “Are you and Renee a thing?”

“No.” Jean laughed. “She has not told you this?”

“We aren’t that close,” Kevin shook his head. “She likes you, you know.”

Jean could feel himself blushing, but hoped his newfound tan covered the colour that spread across his cheeks. “I know. We’ve spoken about it.”

“You’ve spoken about it,” Kevin repeated as if saying it again would make it make more sense. “I thought you liked her.”

“It would never work.” Jean said. “She saved my life. It would always be hanging over the two of us.”

“Okay, sure, but…” Kevin moved to get a better view of Jean while they spoke. “You do like her?”

Jean read his face with a gentle smile, shutting his notebook and putting it to one side. “What is this about?”

His friend squinted his eyes, perhaps hoping he could get his point across telepathically without having to say it out loud. He glanced towards the door and laughed. “So you like Renee.”

“I will always love her for what she has done,” Jean said with a shrug. “But no, not so much anymore. We’re good friends.”

“Point being,” Kevin nodded with an over exaggerated, enthusiastic bob of his head. “You’re into women.”

Jean felt his face fall, as if Kevin had forgotten his name, or forgotten which position he played in. He scoffed, half a laugh and half disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I right?”

“Kevin, you can’t be serious.” Jean echoed, and Kevin furrowed his eyebrows as if he had any right to be confused. “Where has this come from?”

“A friend of a friend wants to know,” Kevin brushed that off, and continued his staring stand-off with Jean. “Why would I not be serious?”

Jean gestured around himself, not even able to come up with a simple answer to his question. Jean was never bothered about the labelling of his sexuality, but had been bothered by its display. At least, publically, he thought, which just translated to not in front of Riko. Not Kevin, never Kevin. Kevin had known, or so he thought, about his infatuations and fleeting glances at the men he thought were handsome. Kevin had known about himself, and how it made Jean feel every time he heard the sweet sound of his native tongue falling from his lips.

“You…” Nothing felt good enough, and Jean laughed at the absurdity of it all. “You know it’s not just women, Kevin.”

Kevin blinked. “Do I?”

“Those foxes have rotted your brain,” Jean switched to French, ever so slightly startling Kevin out of his confused daze. “I knew you had moved on from the nest, but I did not think you would have forgotten so much about me.”

“Well, in my defense,” Kevin responded in his learned language, and Jean melted a little bit more inside. “Jeremy asked you if you were into men, and you never answered him, so he assumed he’d read you wrong.”

“Jeremy?” Jean spat in a failed whisper. “What does Jeremy have to do with this?”

Kevin became even more confused. “Who else would it have anything to do with?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jean shifted his position to sit closer to the edge of the bed. “You know it has everything to do with you.”

“Me?” He said in English, as if wary he’d gotten the translation wrong. He continued in French. “Okay, there must be a miscommunication here.” He switched back to English then, as he started to stumble over his French, suddenly self conscious that he was not speaking correctly. “I’m lost, Jean.”

“I have always been open with you,” Jean said. “I have never hidden from you my interests in men and women. Why would you pretend not to know that?”

Kevin open and closed his mouth a few times, his hands outstretched, waiting for the answer to fall into them. “I didn’t know that.”

Jean shut his eyes to process what Kevin was saying. Perhaps Jean had simply given his intelligence far too much credit, and he had not been as clear to Kevin as he’d imagined he’d been. He thought that impossible, with their shared glances on a lonely night, with their comfort of each other when Riko wasn’t looking. “Some of them you like,” Jean quoted something he’d said to him before. “You said this about the Trojans. If you were not talking about the striker, then who were you talking about?”

“Like, as in,” Kevin’s smile was more genuine than awkward, apparently finding some amusement out of the confusion. “A fan of. You like someone. They interest you. You’re as much of a Jeremy fan as I am. I didn’t think you were into him.”

“And you were not.” Jean didn’t pose it as a question, more of a statement, an answer for himself.

“He’s not bad to look at, don’t get me wrong,” Kevin laughed at the thought. “But not like that. He’s just a really good friend.”

Jean pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Kevin’s movement and felt the weight on the bed next to him as he sat down. When Jean opened his eyes, he had to look away, far too intoxicatingly reminded of his buried thoughts about Kevin.

“Jean,” Kevin pulled his attention back to him, and Jean forced himself to look into his eyes. “Why did you say it has everything to do with me?”

“God,” Jean clicked his tongue in pity, either for himself for being so stupid to think Kevin knew, or at Kevin for not noticing. “How blind can you be?”

“You had a crush on me.” Kevin’s voice was neutral. “You never told me.”

Jean sighed with a hesitant smile. “I thought I did.”

It felt like an age before Kevin decided to respond. It felt like the season had passed, like a year in Raven time had gone by, before he spoke. It was hard to ignore the blush that crept across his lightly freckled cheeks, as Jean found himself fixated on the chess piece on his cheekbone. They were too close, now, and he could feel himself burning up with the shame of it all.

“I didn’t know.” It was simple, not enough, but perhaps the best he could do. “For how long?”

Jean couldn’t help the twitch that spread up his face, “You are the one interested in history, not me.”

“Humor me.”

“For as long as I have known you, Kevin Day.” His eyebrows raised in surprise at that answer. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He couldn’t find a smile that would sit comfortably on his face, and Jean wasn’t sure whether his fidgeting was discomfort or not.

“I never expected anything to come from it,” he attempted to clear the air. “I assumed you knew and simply decided not to address it. Looking back, it’s best you didn’t know, then, I think.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Kevin’s voice was low as he racked his brain for evidence to support Jean’s truth. “I wish you’d told me.”

“To feed your ego?” Jean laughed. “To make a straight man feel better to know he is desirable from either side?”

“You don’t have to say that, either.” Kevin spoke in French like it were a secret. “I’m with Thea now, sure, but,” he struggled. “I’m not exactly, you know… strict about it. It’s just easier this way.”

The only thing Jean could do was look at him.

The only thing he could bear to think was all the times he’d whispered in Jean’s ear, and Jean had to hide the shiver that travelled down his spine at the heat of the words thats he spoke. He thought of Kevin’s hands around his waist as he forced him into position on the court, a quick touch, an order to be better, a demand to be where he needed him to be. Then there was the blood, and the spit running down his chin, black hair stuck to sweat and tears as he cried please, Jean. Take him away from here. He thought of exposed bone and blood trickling through the cracks on the locker room floor, or a cracked skull against a door frame when he found Riko afterwards. There was the note, a single sloppy word, poorly written by a hand that had never wrote before. Sorry. The paper had been marked with Kevin’s blood, and it would be the last thing he would hear from him for months.

Kevin had stopped Jean’s hands before he noticed them travelling up his own throat.

“For the record, there is only one reason why nothing would have come from it,” Kevin meant it as a comfort, and Jean felt his heart break a little bit more. “But it’s the same reason it never would have worked.”

Jean was not naive, either. He was smart enough to know there was no universe in which any sort of relationship with Kevin would have been realistic. He was a beautiful face during a time that was rarely beautiful, a face that patched him up when he was black and blue, a face that smiled and joked at him when all he wanted was an end to the suffering. “I know.” Jean said, acutely aware that Kevin had not let go of his hands, even as they rested between them on the bed. “You will always be my first love, but I am smart enough to know that is meaningless now.”

“Maybe so,” Kevin looked at their hands. “But it could have been fun.”

“Fun, he says,” Jean scoffed, and Kevin laughed one of his genuine laughs, the tension in the room dissipating with the sound of his joy. Jean pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, to cover his face. He could feel himself blushing at the thoughts of what fun could have meant. “And what would you have done, asked the king to leave your room for an hour?”

It was Kevin’s turn to blush then, as he laughed again. Jean tried to push down the resurfacing feelings as he wondered what he could’ve possibly been imagining. “We would have found a way.” His laugh died off with a wistful sigh. “Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Jean agreed.

Kevin let the silence hang for just a moment before he gently reached up to touch Jean’s tattoo, then letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Maybe in another life.”

Jean swallowed and let out a soft exhale. “Maybe.”

They spent far too long just looking at each other, imagining what could have happened in that other life, wondering how it could’ve been different. Kevin eventually got back to the point of his conversation, and after laughing about how Jean has a thing for strikers, and how Kevin had never actually had a crush on Jeremy, Jean ignored his study for the flowing conversations he’d missed so badly. It was true that Kevin had been his first love, and he would be lying to himself if he said it would ever go away, but they had been each other’s only friend for so long. It was a long overdue catch-up without the threat of violence for laughing too loud, or sitting too close together. He didn’t pretend not to notice the way Kevin’s eyes flicked to his lips every now and again, or how quickly he would look away when he caught himself doing so. It was difficult to ignore how his cheeks turned rosy then, and even more so difficult to ignore how much he’d forgotten how beautiful Kevin really was.

For just a single, simple moment Jean wondered what it would be like to kiss him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind for a very, very long time. Jean pictured a timeline in which they were both able to give it a shot without immeasurable guilt, or shame, or fear over the court of public opinion. He found himself being reminded over and over again that Kevin had finally said it himself that his sexuality was a fluid thing. There were more reasons that not to write it off as a wrong place, wrong time kind of issue, but even with the stomach churning, butterfly inducing thought of Jeremy Knox and his callused hands, it was certain that Kevin would always be his greatest what-if.

It was a pity that they would both continue on with their lives not knowing what could have been, but perhaps for the best; they were both at points in their lives where, for the first time ever, they were happy. They were not constantly glancing over their shoulders waiting for a threat.

Maybe in another life, Jean told himself. Maybe in some other world.

#pacing issues? idk her!#here’s some blind bisexual Kevin day #and too-open Jean Moreau wrongfully assuming Kevin can pick up on clues at ALL.#kevjean kevjean kevjean #my rotten little brain #kevjean #kevin day #Jean Moreau #tsc #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the sunshine court #love my little bisexuals

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0104-vikita · 2 days

Text

The Amazing Digital Circus 🔎Episode Speculations🔎

With friends we tried to make up different scenarios and speculations based on Episode 2's trailer. Most of them are about the episode, but some can apply to the show in general. I felt like sharing them.

NPC Awarenesses/Sentience

NPCS and Locations don't get erased. Instead they can be reused over and over. The Candy Cannon has been used for humans that to this day are already abstracted. The NPCS might remember.

All NPCs are aware of their role as simple additions for Caine's adventures. They are almost like actors that may not get out of their role.

Only SOME NPCS are aware of their role AND as sentient as a human, while others just get reset. Those who are aware feel depressed and trapped as a result. Has major impact in the Lore

The NPCS are not aware, but become so and find out the truth towards the end of the adventure, leading to an existential crisis. Has major impact in the lore

NPC Awarenesses and "we were just acting" is instead played as a Joke where they all hang out before the main cast returns to the circus.

Storylines, Plot and Escenes

The gators are bandits and present a major issue for the kingdom. Is the main cast's quest to stop them or interfere with them (@notnights)

The gators aren't necessarily bad guys, and the quest has nothing to do with them, but the main cast does something that bothers them (maybe the truck they ride is theirs and stole it) getting into conflict

There is a BIGGER threat lurking in the Candy Cannon, the gators and the main cast are forced to work together (@gen-toon)

I like to think the reason Gangle is shown driving is because of the fact she's the most likely to get carsick (said by Goose previously). Being the driver diminishes the chances of getting carsick (for some)

There will be a chase and shooting scene in the episode

The close up eye picture belongs to either one of the gators (what I thought at the beginning) OR some creature we have not met before (the eyes look different from the gators) The lightning suggests a different location and lore relevancy.

Overall there will be lore related scenes suggested by the different non-candy cannon scenes on which Pomni appears worried, scared and overall nervous.

There is a mannequin running behind Gangle in what appears to be their entrance to the Kingdom. This is most likely the reason her mask breaks.

One of my friends (@gen-toon) realized that there's a mosaic that looks oddly similar to Kinger. But it could also be Caine (@notnights). It makes more sense to be Caine's since he's like a God almost. Maybe they worship him

Jax (there's stuff I wanna say about this bitch specifically)

There's a scene in which Jax appears to be in danger of falling from the truck while being eaten by the monster. This scene made me think about the possibility of Jax getting in danger and the cast REFUSING to help him or at least hesitating to do so cuz bro is a bastard.

He notices this hesitation/refusal, this occurrence makes him think (leading to the "sad Jax" scene) but it does NOT lead him to be better, instead, it leads him to be worse because "they hate me anyways"

This scene could also be the result of other possible plot scenes suggested by my friends:

The gators have been defeated and tied up. They attempt to manipulate Jax into joining them by hitting on his weak spots. (@notnights )

The gators and the cast are bonding together. The gators' boisterous personality drifts him away. The only way he socializes with people is by being boisterous and annoying, so the fact that these gators might be boisterous AND nice will take him out of focus. It will show that he in fact does not know how to form a genuine connection with others. (@gen-toon)

Maybe he's considering shooting the captured gators to get over with the adventure. (@notnights )

Maybe bro's hungry and is just eating the chocolate on the floor idk (got that idea from @corpseacoast fanart)

I will just keep adding stuff as I remember, speculating is kinda fun.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax #ragatha #kinger #pomni #Gangle

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blackbirdi · 1 day

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One-Sided pt. II

If you haven't read the first part already, the link to part 1 is here

I'm so sorry this took so long, guys, I was struggling with ideas. Anyways, enjoy :)

Brief Description: Sirius begins to notice how suddenly you're around him a lot less than usual. What could he have done to make you want to avoid him at all costs? And why does your avoidance hurt him this much?

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 2181

Character: Sirius Black x Reader

House: Gryffindor

Year: Sixth Year

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Sirius has talked to Y/n last, and it's driving him up the wall. The only other time where he doesn't talk to her for that long is during the summer, but at least they owl back and forth non-stop, and now suddenly he hasn't heard her sweet voice in two damn weeks.

And it's not as though he hasn't tried to talk to her. Hell, he's been going out of his way to run into her just to ask what was up with her, but every time she sees him, she runs away. And now she's changed the time of her daily activities (going to the library to read/study, walk in the courtyard, visit Hagrid, etc.) – not that he knew the times she was going by heart before she changed them – so now he can't even run into her then.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks. And he's not going any longer without her.

It was Saturday and the Marauders were all hanging out in their dormitory, and Sirius was itching to find Y/n and beg ask her to forgive him for whatever he must have done to have her ignore him like this.

"Remus," Sirius calls, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Remus hums, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading, which only caused Sirius to grow more frustrated.

He closes his eyes before he snaps at Remus, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The only thing that does is cause his eyes to well up with tears.

Godric, what was up with him? Was Y/n really causing him to get this upset?

When he speaks next, his voice breaks, which causes all the other Marauders to lift their heads and look at Sirius with concern.

"Why won't Y/n talk to me?"

The other three Marauders share a few glances at one another before looking back at Sirius. The pity in their eyes as they look at him causes Sirius to grow frustrated once again.

His eyes, which were previously filled with tears, harden as he wipes them away. His lips pull back into a thin line as he glares down at his own hands.

"She keeps avoiding me! I haven't said anything to her in weeks!" he cries angrily. "And even when I do say something to her, she just ignores me and runs off! Did I do something to make her mad at me?"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Padfoot," James tries to comfort him. "Maybe Y/n just needs space for a while."

"Space from what?" Sirius snaps. "What did I do that would've wanted her to space herself from me? And only me! I haven't seen her ignoring you three, or anyone else for that matter! What did I do!?"

“Pads –” Remus starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” James asks. “It’s just Y/n.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all shoot James a glare, all three of them knowing that was not the right thing to ask.

“Yeah, Y/n, my friend,” Sirius sneers. “I care because Y/n is one of my closest friends and now suddenly she’s ignoring me! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Because it does, a lot.”

“We know, Padfoot,” Peter replies, trying to make his voice sound comforting, although to Sirius it sounded more like pity. “I think James was trying to ask why you’re so … no quiet over dramatic about it … but more upset than you normally would be about something like this.”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “That’s exactly what I was trying to ask, thank you, Pete.”

Sirius glares at the both of them, his teeth gritting together as he tries to hold back from snapping at the two of them.

Why was he upset? Really? One of his best friends just straight up ditched him! Of course he was fucking upset!

“How do you twats not understand that I am upset my friend has fucking abandoned me!” Sirius snarls, his voice wavering as he tries to control his anger.

The others share another, worried glance, which drives Sirius even more insane.

Of course, Remus, James, and Peter quickly caught on that Y/n was avoiding Sirius, and were even quicker to catch on why. It wasn’t that hard to see that Y/n had finally had enough of her silly little crush on Sirius and was trying to stomp it out by avoiding him. And of course, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail knew that avoiding Sirius at all costs wasn’t going to get rid of Y/n’s feelings for Sirius. And of course, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew knew that Sirius’s own feelings towards Y/n were developing beyond friendship.

“I can talk to her if you want me to,” Remus offers.

The usual stormy grey of Sirius’s eyes had darkened considerably in anger, his eyes narrowing at Remus in a glare.

“You’ve done quite a lot of talking to her,” he hisses. “A lot more than I have in Merlin knows how long. Do you know how frustrating that is, Remus? To see that Y/n, who suddenly hates me, is still all buddy-buddy with the three of you? Do you know how shitty it makes me feel when I see her talking to you and then she immediately runs away whenever she sees me? Do you?”

“No,” Remus replies, his voice squeaky at the anger in Sirius’s tone.

"That's what I thought," Sirius snarls, standing up from his bed abruptly.

With quick strides Sirius finds himself at the dormitory door, the door opened an inch before Peter asks curiously, "Where are you going?"

"To fucking find her!" Sirius snaps, turning around and facing his friends. "I can't keep going like this, without her. I - I need her, okay? I need her because ... because I love her. I love her. Holy shit, I love Y/n. I'll be back guys, but I need to find Y/n, even if that means searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken castle."

He's out the door in another split second, the door slamming closed behind him.

Silence settles over the other three as they share glances, confused evident on each of their faces.

"Well," Remus finally mutters, breaking the silence. "He handled that a lot better than Y/n did when she realized she was in love with Sirius."

–––––––––––

To Sirius's surprise it didn't take him that long to find her. She was sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the truck of a tree with a book on her lap.

Sirius was careful to approach her quietly, not wanting her to spot him and jump up and run away (like she had been doing for two weeks straight).

When Y/n finally looked up from her book, the first thing she saw was Sirius looming in front of her. Her eyes widened as they made eye contact, scrambling to pick up her book and getting to her feet.

"Y/n, wait," Sirius snaps, grabbing onto her wrist with a vice-like grip before she could run away. "Please, don't run again, please."

Y/n sighs, trying to tug her wrist out of Sirius’s grip before she turns and faces him for the first time since the Quidditch game. Her struggling ceases as she sees the pain behind Sirius’s eyes, the pain that she would’ve caused every single time she ignored him or ran away.

“Please, Y/n/n,” he begs in a whisper, pulling her closer to him. “Please, don’t leave me again. I miss you so much. And I am so, so sorry if I did something to hurt you, or did something that made you want to avoid me. I never meant to, I don’t think I have done anything, but if I did just say the word and I will hold myself responsible for it and I will do anything I can to get back in your good graces because I miss you. So, so much. I hate that I haven’t seen you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t talked to you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, and I hate that you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not blaming you because obviously it must have been something I did, but please Y/n, please, please, please stop avoiding me. I miss you.”

A wave of guilt washes over Y/n as she listens to Sirius, watching tears well in his eyes as it gets increasingly harder for him to talk without choking on his words. However, she can't help the little flutter her heart gives at his words.

Sirius takes a breath, trying to collect himself as he finally says everything he was feeling.

"And-and I hate how much it hurts that you've been doing this. I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't, but I do. I care so goddamn much, Y/n. It's been two weeks, two fucking weeks! I shouldn't be this effected, but I am. I've missed you more in two weeks more than I've missed anything else in my life, more than I miss the Marauders during the holidays, more than I miss Hogwarts during the summer, more than I miss the heat of the summer during the winter, more than I miss the sun in a rainstorm. I missed you, Y/n, and it's only been two weeks. So please, please, please, please, tell me what I did wrong so I can right it and we can go back to how we were before whatever I did."

A pause, a heartbeat before Sirius adds in a trembling voice, "Please."

Y/n takes a shaky breath, trying to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks and giving her away.

"Sirius," she says slowly.

"Please," he interrupts her, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/n. I don't know what I did, but whatever it must have been, I am so sorry. Please, please, please forgive me."

"Sirius," Y/n repeats, "you didn't do anything. I just... I realized something and I shut myself away from you. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Sirius stares at her, confusion bubbling up within him as he listens to her explain.

"I-I don't understand," he admits in a quiet voice. Her stares up at her helplessly. "Why would you avoid me like you have if I didn't do anything? You haven't avoided the others, just me."

Y/n sighs, her heart thudding in her chest as she looks away from Sirius and finally admits in a small voice, "I'm in love with you."

The world stops, for the both of them.

Y/n can't breathe, why would she admit that!? Everything, everything, has been ruined. She ruined their friendship! Why would she do that!?

Sirius can't breathe, did she mean it!? Everything, everything, is going to change, for the better. She felt the same! But why did she avoid him if she loved him?

After what felt like hours of silence, Sirius responds, "I love you, too."

Sirius's heart pounds against his ribcage. Even though she said it first, it's still so hard to admit it.

Y/n's heart pounds against her ribcage. There is no way in hell that he actually feels the same.

"I – w-what?” she stutters, mouth dry.

“I love you too,” Sirius repeats, dropping her wrist. His hands come up to cup her jaw, holding her face in his hands as he smiles down at her. “I-I was thinking about how much I missed you, everything about you – not just your presence – and I guess that led me to realize that I would never feel this way about someone I thought of as my friend. Y/n/n, I realized that I’m in love with you.”

Y/n mirrors Sirius’s smile, relief flooding through her body as her cheeks flush with pink.

“I-I’m glad,” she whispers. “I was scared that you didn’t feel the same; that’s why I started avoiding you. I thought that if I was around you less my feelings would go away, which obviously didn’t work. But I was scared to say something in case I made things awkward between us.”

Sirius chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers, asking in a soft voice, “How could I not be in love with you? You, Y/n L/n, are the most kind, thoughtful, caring, smart, funny, beautiful woman in the whole world; I don’t know how I didn’t realize my feelings for you sooner. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” Y/n murmurs back. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius being this close to her.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they soak in each other’s presence, two hearts beating as one.

Two minutes. It has been two minutes since Sirius has admitted his feelings for Y/n, and it’s making him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Taglist: @littleshadow17 (who asked for a part 2 a month ago. I hope it was up to your standards lol). And @rosieandthethorns (who didn't asked to be tagged but I figured I should let you know so you can stop foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor lmao)

#i'm sorry i took so long in getting this out guys #my writing brain wasn't writing #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #marauders era #padfoot #requited love

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cam3lliaw · 2 days

Text

Tell me

• Megumi Fushiguro x gn!reader

• wc ~1k words

• a bit of angst but mainly fluff

• warnings: mentions of wounds(not detailed), mentions of wincing, lying, slight trust issues mentioned, i think that's all

A/N : not really proofread, but i had fun writing this after my hiatus :))

An angry knock could’ve been heard from all across the dark hallway.

Megumi didn’t need to get up from the laying position he was in, on the bed, to know that the person on the other side of his door was no one other than you, his partner, and it was even easier for him to guess, from the way you were knocking, that you were not happy at all.

“Megumi, open the door.” your voice could be heard from the hallway.

Megumi. Not ‘Gumi, not darling, not babe, not love, not other pet name or silly nickname you could ever come up with, because if there is someone in this world that could invent the cheesiest appellatives to ever exist, it was you. Ever since you two started dating, there were very few instances in which you called the boy by his given name, two to be more exact, when you were teasing him and when you were upset at him and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that unfortunately for him, right now it’s not the first one.

He tried to get up as quietly as possible without wincing from the wound that he got, not even half a day ago, while he was on a mission with Yuji. The boy walked to the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower.

“In the shower.” he announced standing close to the door hoping that you’ll hear and leave him alone for a little while more.

“Yeah, yeah sure and I am the heir of the Gojo clan.” you said in a monotone tone before continuing: “I know you are not in fact in the shower, unfortunately for you, I wasn’t born yesterday Megumi, I heard you shuffling in the room a second ago, not to mention that if you were, in fact, showering you wouldn’t have heard me so clearly as you seem to have heard. Don’t lie to me and come open the door.”

He hesitated mentally face palming himself. Megumi doesn’t even know why he bothered lying, you paid an incredible amount of attention when you actually wanted to. And yet he didn’t move from his spot on the bathroom floor.

A minute passed, then two and if he didn’t know any better he’d say you got the hint and left. But he does know better, he knows you better-

“Please.” your voice was quiet but he heard it all too clearly. And hesitation or whatever held him back be damned, because Megumi knew. He was well aware that if you said please he’d do anything you asked him to without hesitating one bit.

He turned off the water and got out of the bathroom. A part of him was still hesitant as he walked to the door but he knew he can’t avoid you any longer at this point.

Megumi opened the door and you entered, arms crossed looking him up and down.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” you asked looking straight at your lover.

“I don’t.” he said a bit hesitant.

If there was something Megumi didn’t like to do, it was to lie to you. He knew you didn’t like being lied to either, but he believes that this time it’s for the greater good, which would include you not finding out about his recent wound. But he has this glooming feeling in the pit of his stomach that you somehow already found out.

You breathed a sigh.

“Okay. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that, so I am going to ask you again, okay? Megumi” you took a step forward towards your boyfriend. “do you have something you want to tell me?”

You knew. You definitely knew. There was no way you didn’t know at this point. But still, he had to try denying it once more.

“I don’t have anything that I want to tell you.” he said, avoiding your gaze, a thing that he kept doing unintentionally since you got into the room.

He was a bad liar. At least, that was the case when it came to you. That’s something the both of you could agree on.

“Why do I have to find out from Yuji that you got hurt?” you decided to say it already to his face since he clearly showed no signs of telling you himself.

“…listen [name]-“ he started but you interrupted him.

“No! I don’t want to listen, I gave you the change to talk, not once but twice mind you, and you said that you didn’t have anything that you wanted to tell me so I’ll do the talking.” you took a deep breath and continued “you know I don’t like to be lied to Megumi, you know it and yet you still go and do it. I don’t understand it, you always want to know when I get hurt on missions, why shouldn’t I know when you’re the one who gets hurt? I thought you said you trusted me. Did that not include telling me if you get hurt? Did I ever make you feel like you can’t be vulnerable around me?”

“[name] you know that’s not the case-”

“Then why? Why do you hide stuff like that from me? And if you start saying some shit like “you didn’t want to worry me” I’m leaving this room right now because we both know I will worry about you no matter what you say to me-”

Megumi took a step forward and closed the distance between the two of you by gently grabbing your face and kissing you. The kiss wasn’t long by any means, but it felt more sincere than any words Megumi could say at the moment.

There was a short silence afterwards as you two stared into each other’s eyes. You knew he was sorry. That’s one of the things you prided yourself with, reading Megumi better than anyone else ever did and yet, you couldn’t help but want more. You didn’t want to be able to read him as much as you wanted him to tell you all of those things himself, to talk to you.

“I am sorry.” he apologized looking into your eyes.

“I know that.”

“You’re right, I should tell you this stuff. I promise I’ll never hide this kind of things from you ever again.” he added as his hand went to caress your cheek.

“I’m glad you finally agree with me.” you smiled as you leaned into his hand.

Megumi took your hand and gently pulled you to his bed. You two cuddled and ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms.

A/N : i hope you liked it :))

#jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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lovelybrooke · 1 day

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Hey, I’m hoping I can request a one shot where the couple from good omens had to take the reader in for the night because the parents had a last minute thing they needed to do and they didn’t have anyone else who could help them. Maybe what they would do all night and what the couple would take about in private.

Thanks!

Proof I Don't Hate You (Platonic Yandere Good Omens)

---

Yeah sure, here you go. Also I literally can't remember if Aziraphale lived above his shop or not, so if I'm wrong let's just pretend.

I made this very Crowley focused so--sorry If that's not what you wanted.

Masterlist

---

"A-Are you sure you're okay with this? We really don't want to bother you with anything, my sister can--"

"Mrs! Please--it's no problem to me at all, I promise." You watch as Mr. Fell attempts to soothe your mothers worries. Your father has been sick for the past few days, and after waking up in the middle of the night with a fever of 105 degrees, you all knew it was best if he got to a hospital as soon as possible. Mr. Fell had given you his number in case of emergencies, so you were quick to message him about the whole ordeal. He responded almost immediately, assuring him that it was fine for you to stay in his home above the bookshop.

For a moment you thought it was weird how quickly he responded, but your mother wasted no time shoveling you all into the car and driving as fast as legally possible towards the bookshop. Even while concerned over her husband, your mother was worried about bothering your boss.

"You're positive?!" Your mother breathed a side of relief. "Thank you so much--hopefully we'll be back soon, early morning at the latest, I promise you." Mr. Fell looked barely disturbed, all smiles. Your mother sighed once more, giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Be good--please. I'll be back in the morning."

You nod, whipping your cheek a bit as you watch her speed back towards the car. Hopefully your father was okay.

"Sorry about all this Mr. Fell." You spoke lightly as he ushered you into the flat. It was very cozy, much like the shop below him. There were books everywhere, in the hallways even, littering the floors. He had many plants, most of which you knew had to be from Mr. Crowley, for a second it was sweet, before you remembered that it was Crowley.

"There is no apologies needed, I'm glad to have you over." He sounded so, his voice sweet and comforting, making you nearly forget about the less than ideal situation. If it was anyone else, it would be awkward staying over at your boss's home, but he is too understanding, making all your worries melt away.

You eventually make it to the living room of his flat, choosing to sit down on the couch as you watch his scurry around. He goes to where you assume the kitchen is, hearing the sound of dishes clanking and water pouring before he's back in the main room, handing you a drink and what you assume is left-over food. You thank him before taking a bite, savoring the meal.

"I know it's late but I have games if you'd like to play one." You nod your head as you watch Mr. Fell pick up many different board games and show them to you. Most of them looked old and unopened, making you wonder if they were from a collection. You didn't have time to ask however "I also finally found those books you were asking for if you'd like to read those. I also--" You wonder how long he’d continue talking if something didn't stop him.

"Angel I--what are they doing here?" You look over to see Crowley, glasses and all, a small plant tucked away in his side. You smiled slightly at the sigh, it was sweet, but apparently that just annoyed Crowley more as he sneered at the sight.

Mr. Fell eyes wide only for a small second before responding. "(Y/n)--Crowley--is staying over while their father is in hospital, so be nice." His voice was more strained on the last part, which almost made you laugh.

Crowley groaned as placed the plant down on the ground, near a few others. He messes with a few of their leaves, checking them over for a small moment before taking a seat of the chair across the couch, slouching as he stares you two down. "I'll try." His voice was just as strained as Mr. Fell's.

That seemed like enough to satisfy Mr. Fell, him smiling as he clasps his hands together, a very different sight to his partner across from him. Sometimes, you wonder if you did something to make Crowley hate you. It must've just been you, since from day one he's seemingly wanted nothing to do with you. You don't think about it too much, it makes you feel weird whenever you do. You don't hate Crowley, in fact you like him a lot, but sometimes you wonder if it's your fault for reciprocating his negative behavior.

You're broken out of your thoughts by the sound of Aziraphale gasping, standing up suddenly. "I almost forgot--you two wait here, I have another game somewhere..." his voice trails off and for the first time in the night, you're nervous. You like Crowley, but knowing he's observing you from behind those glasses of his filled you with dread.

"Mr. Crowley, why do you like plants so much?" You don't know why you asked him, but it just felt right. He looked genuinely surprised by the question, shifting in his seat a bit while he mulled over the question.

"...they're easy to take care of--for the most part if you know what you're doing." His snarky voice made you laugh, and for a moment you thought you saw Crowley smile--but it must've been your imagination.

"Could you teach me--how to care for plants I mean." You ask.

Crowley leans his shoulder on the arm of the seat, placing his chin on hand. He smirks at you, but there is less distaste in it, you can tell. "You sure you can handle it, plants are a lot of work, kid."

"I can manage."

"Mr. Fell over here seems to work you to death, you look tired, or is that how ya always look."

You frown lightly. "I-I mean with school and everything...you're no better, always covering your face as well!" You poke and Crowley moves his hand to cover his mouth slightly, but you could see the smile bits of a smile.

"I don't always cover my face--just when you're around." You scoff at the statement, crossing your arms.

"Oh, just say you hate me already." You playfully groan. Crowley however doesn't take it that way. the playfulness, something so rare in the man, was all gone, replaced with a familiar cold expression.

"Don't say that--I don't--I don't hate you." He says, his voice low. The smile on your face disappears and you're back to being nervous again.

"--It was a joke." You nearly whisper, obviously started by the shift.

"I know--It wasn't funny though." He almost sounded like he was whining, it was annoying.

"You act like it though." Maybe you were stirring the pot, poking the beast, but you couldn't help it. Not when he was acting like some sort of victim, all because of a joke. "You constantly tease me at work, and you make fun of me when I get upset or defensive--"

"That's different though."

You wanted Mr. Fell to come back.

"How is that different?'

He was taking so long.

"--because I don't hate you."

Hasn't he heard all this?

"Then why do you act like it?"

Crowley remained silent, and the air remained still, until Mr. Fell returned. "I found the game!" He said excitedly, oblivious to what transpired.

The night progressed like a blur, you played a few games, pretending as though nothing happened. You could tell something was wrong with Crowley. he was more stilted than normal, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Eventually, you succumbed to sleep and was moved to the spare bedroom by Mr. Fell. He carefully shut the door before quickly moving back into the living room, Crowley sulking on the chair, his back facing him. He moved to stand in front of the demon, annoyance clear on his face. "Would you like to explain what happened?"

Crowley shrugged. "You heard?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I'm not deaf--of course it heard Crowley! What were you thinking?" Even while clearly angry, the angel attempted to keep his voice down so as to not wake you up.

"Why would they think I hate them?" Crowley asked, almost in disbelief. "You know me angel--I hate a lot of things." Crowley stands up, almost distressed "but I don't hate them." He points towards the spare room.

"I know that Crowley." Aziraphale pointed towards themself, emphasizing the I. "But do they?" He points out, and for a second it seemed as though Crowley understood.

Emotions were confusing with Crowley. With Aziraphale he had a lot, lot more time to figure everything out, but that doesn't mean it wasn't confusing. He loves Aziraphale, that's clear as day, but he wasn't able to figure that out in a day, or a month, or a year, or a decade. It took centuries for him to say those words, but he doesn't get that grace for you.

Your life is finite, a small speak in the endless sea of other humans they've met. At first he'd thought you'd be like the others, a human who lives, breathes, and then dies, someone he'd forget in a few years. But it was never that easy for Crowley, something always had to change. You managed to worm your way into Aziraphale's heart, and now, he wonders if you did the same to him.

Crowley wonders for a while why you think he hates you, he looks back on his previous interactions with you in a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. His behavior was, less than favorable to say the least, and for once of his life, he wasn't proud of it. You are a kid, confused and complicated, and he surely wasn't helping. For the rest of that night, he was disappointed in himself.

You went home early the next morning, you didn't say a word to Crowley. You were waiting for him to do something, you weren't going to fold. Call it stubborn, but you were tired of his behavior.

So color you surprised when you showed up to work after school, seeing a small succulent on the table you place your stuff by often. For a moment, you thought it was for someone else, that this was just a coincidence, but a small note near the plant changed your mind.

"(Y/n), Proof I don't hate you. --Crowley." On the back of the note were a few little notes on how to take care of the plan, all neatly written and easy to understand.

You smile.

You'd have to thank Crowley later.

---

A/n: I don't know if this was what you wanted, but I hope you enjoyed.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere good omens #yandere good omens #good omens x reader #platonic good omens #good omens

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 day

Note

TW: PANIC ATTACK

hiya!! I've kind of been wondering, because Genesis can be all sorts of crazy sauce emotionally, what are some things that would cause him a panic attack, and how would he be during?

and Sephiroth/Angeal would absolutely tak care of him no matter what ♥️♥️

brought to you by my own sensory issues during a school assembly making me cry

lots and lots of love!

Genesis has a funny relationship with anxiety, because while he often feels anxious, he portrays himself as always composed and unbothered, as if nothing could break him, when that couldn't be further from the truth.

• Being perceived as anything other than strong is a source of anxiety for him. He has no problem feeling 100 eyes on him in a crowded room so long as they're admiring him. Turn those gazes analytical, laced with pity or hatred, and Genesis feels entirely naked. His heart races, he shifts in place, begins to look uncomfortable, which in turn attracts more eyes on him. The overthinking comes quickly, as do the reasons why they hate him. He has a readily available list in his mind he pulls out whenever he feels at his worst. It's the way he looks; if only he looked better. It's the medals around his neck, not enough next to Sephiroth. Sephiroth has more. Sephiroth always has more. It's his voice, he's been told it sounds annoying before. Maybe he should be speaking less. Or maybe they hate him because they see right through what he is—an insecure, lonely person who will never be enough no matter how much he tries.

• Genesis has a lot of anxiety surrounding the book(s) he always carried around. While part of the reason he has so many copies of Loveless stems from his love for the epic, he doesn't like losing things he loves. So he makes sure he always has two of the things he loves. Two of his favorite pen, two of his red coat, two of the same sunglasses....he was so glad the day Sephiroth became his friend. Now he had two best friends. That way, if one fell or flew away, he wouldn't be alone. The only thing he cannot have two of is his first and most annotated copy of Loveless he's had since he was a child. He treasures it greatly, but every time he loses it, Genesis thinks he's dying.

His fingers are numb and static beneath his leather gloves, the tears hot as they pour down his face, heart beating fast as he tries to collect his thoughts long enough to focus. His office door is shut and locked, so no one walks in on him like this, wiping his nose and hyperventilating as he pulls open drawers in hopes of seeing his book. When he sees it—nestled under a stack of documents, he collapses onto his chair, clutching the book close as he sobs. He feels ridiculous, in part because he didn't see it laying there sooner, but mostly because he lets it have control over him.

• Genesis is used to being sick, but that doesn't mean it doesn't bother him. His immune system has improved greatly, and was much worse when he was a child, but it's still significantly weaker than the others. A flu that would be a mild inconvenience to Sephiroth and Angeal leaves Genesis bedridden and severely ill. The first day of being sick is the worst for him, the moment he first realizes he'll be away from SOLDIER for days and will be talked about. He's riddled with anxiety over what they'll say.

He thinks—no, he knows that they'll compare him to Sephiroth. They'll question why Genesis is always sick, why his health is never perfect, and why it takes Genesis days to recover from an injury that would be nothing to the others. And then there's the illness itself. He never knows what's coming. Will it be serious? Will it evolve into something serious? Will he survive?

The first day of any illness is when Genesis finds himself curled into a ball on his bathroom floor, biting the color of his shirt to keep himself from hyperventilating, his vision blurred from tears, wondering why he couldn't be normal.

• There's one thing that's guaranteed to send Genesis spiralling into an immediate panic attack no matter who he's with or where he is. It's not something he can control (he's tried). Sephiroth and Angeal are talking. Genesis is in between them (he's placed himself there to guarantee that he'll have a place in their conversation). But they're not responding to him. Genesis levels with them at first. His words are bold, he likes the shock value.

His jokes aren't the kindest. He's not a negative person, but he loves to complain. They dismiss his words and roll their eyes, as if to say "There goes Genesis again." He wanted to know if they wanted to go see a screening of Loveless with him the next weekend, but they talked right over him. Genesis feels smaller and smaller as Sephiroth and Angeal, and not even shouting Loveless quotes at the top of his lungs will be enough to grab their attention. He's not sure they're doing it on purpose. So he sits there, listening to his friends laugh, acting as if he isn't there.

Genesis can't take it. The tears are spilling before he can wipe them away, so he covers his face with his hands and lets himself cry. Sephiroth and Angeal notice and stop talking immediately.

• They're quick to realize where they went wrong, and even quicker to pull Genesis in and apologize profusely, assuring him that they weren't doing it on purpose and never intend to hurt him on purpose. Angeal has Genesis wrapped in a hug that buries his head in his chest. Genesis is still crying, softer now but still clearly upset. Sephiroth joins, sandwiching Genesis as he hugs him from behind. They're both whispering apologies and soft words to him as they let him cry.

Now Genesis feels embarrassed that he's crying and being cared for, which makes him even more anxious. Still trembling, he tries to pull himself away, but they don't let him. Sephiroth holds him tighter, and Angeal starts blowing on his face to cool him off, gently brushing the hair from his eyes. Sephiroth tells him to take deep breaths and slowly count as high as he can.

Genesis gets to 69 when Angeal snorts involuntarily. This catches Genesis completely off guard. Soon all three of them are doubled over laughing.

Angeal's spontaneous humor of a fifth grader is just what Genesis needed to be distracted from what upset him in the first place.

When he's calm enough to speak, Sephiroth and Angeal make him sit down between them again. This time Angeal is rubbing soothing circles on his back, and Sephiroth is holding his hand, lightly squeezing. They want him to explain all that cause potential panic attacks so they can help him avoid them, and be there for him in the future so he won't have to suffer alone.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #headcanons

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