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#but my brain keeps screaming ‘‘you’re an awful person for watching this!!!!’’
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i hate that i’m consuming new media atm but i feel like i can’t say anything on here bc it has some problematic content and i’m worried i’m gonna be judged for it
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v4mpirezz · 3 months
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 ! ꒱ ˎˊ˗
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#𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Modern! Tennant | Fem! Reader | Fluff | Hcs
#𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Modern Tennant!? HERE WE COME HEHEHWHEH What a brain rot. Silently I hope people take inspiration from this
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Modern! Tennant, who still is old fashioned. Tennant without calling you “My lady”, courting you, being proper, a gentlewoman, IS NOT TENNANT!
Modern! Tennant, who somehow has many followers on her social media platforms, she isn’t very active online and posts rarely. However her posts gains thousands of likes on instagram or even millions on tiktok where she shows herself.. Yes, obviously she has many fangirls.
The AMOUNT of edits people have made of her is insane— She even reposts some that she really likes or finds bold which literally makes her fans scream and rant off about it. She also has so much fun reading thirsty comments about her.
Modern! Tennant, who sneakingly takes pictures of you when you’re not looking. Honestly, you fill her whole camera roll! Sometimes she will post some on her Instagram, but she keeps most of them to herself; she wants to be the only one who sees you looking so adorable and relaxed. She especially keeps silly pictures of you to herself!
Has a picture of you devouring the food, she finds it cute! Will never delete it.
Modern! Tennant, who takes you on many dates. This woman will think of a date idea in the middle of the night and text you asking if you like the idea… Yes she will text you at 2am, so what?
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Modern! Tennant, who always chooses breathtaking places for your dates— however they aren’t as breathtaking as you are; is what she says.
Modern! Tennant, who always starts the date with a cup of coffee from the café first. She will also buy you a drink or a dessert if you want! Better yet, both.
Modern! Tennant, who always dresses up so aesthetically. Even her casual outfits always have this.. alluring and charming aura. She could be wearing such simple clothes and you’ll be blushing from how beautiful she looks.
Modern! Tennant, who receives many stares from interested women while out in public. In her head she chuckles and holds your hand. In a way to let you know— and the others know— that she is only interested and has eyes on you.
Modern! Tennant, who loves seeing you in awe when looking around. It’s adorable and makes her fall head over heels with you all over again. How surprising isn’t it?
At first, Tennant first saw you as a lady to take to her bed for a night like she did with others; but you stayed. Something about you captured her heart. Perhaps the pureness your heart held? Your lovely expressions? Your angelic voice? Your gentle touch?
Or perhaps the way you were genuinely interested in getting to know her. Tennant is aware that many lust for her, yet she never saw that in your eyes but actual interest to getting to know her as a person. That night you two met at a party, she took you home and kissed the back of your hand with a goodnight.
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Modern! Tennant, who still reads the newspapers.
Modern! Tennant, who enjoys watching movie with you. Snuggling together and sharing a cozy blanket, it’s simple yet also romantic?
Modern! Tennant, who surprises you with rose petal baths and candles lit up. The same goes for your bedroom, but those are sorely for when she’s feeling like having an intimate night with you. She thinks setting the mood if very important.
Modern! Tennant, who randomly sends you pictures of her outfit of the day.
Modern! Tennant, who is a huge fan of The Weekend, and occasionally listens to Romeo Santos.
Modern! Tennnant, who helps you cook dinner for tonight while playing music, then suddenly grabs your waist and dances with you while laughing and giggling.
She is a master at dancing, twirling you and stealing a few kisses from you.
*Kisses the back of your hand* “Not a bad dancer, my lady~”
Modern! Tennant, who can literally get the job as a chef; her cooking skills are amazing as well as her taste. She cooks you 5 star meals no kidding.
Modern! Tennant, who always has a hand on your thigh when driving.
Modern! Tennant, who loves making Spotify playlists dedicated to you. She plays them when you two are alone doing activities, laying on bed, or in the car.
TV girl, Girl in red, and The Smiths fill that playlist <3
Modern! Tennant, who makes matching jewelry for you both using those cute charms that are being sold online.
Modern! Tennant, who likes mystery genres and is quick to figure out the culprits, she is like a detective! At the end of the final reveal she smiles in victory, “I told you! I knew it!”
Modern! Tennant, literally lives the aesthetic life. Her fridge is SO NEAT AND CLEAN? EVERYTHING in her house is, how!? She definitely makes aesthetic videos on tiktok and people love them, they find it satisfying.
She even makes cooking and baking videos! However, there was this one time she made a tiktok showing her face and like I mentioned, edits were made of her, and the original video got viral like WTF!?
People were calling her many things, mommy, leg opener, you name it.
People even asked if she could make an ASMR—
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wvbaandtheboys · 8 months
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ok the joke’s going way too far now but hey it’s fun and everyone’s enjoying it so… let’s enjoy it!! (expect drawings and more scenarios honestly HWJWJSH)
here’s some death scenes and death lines from the ro-boxers! (by the way, if y’all wanna give your two cents or even yeet robo ocs in the mix? completely fine by me, let’s all be silly together!!)
By the way, here’s my silly thought process for the robots: if they’re not having a cliche “tis a malfunction” moment, it’s prolly them being sentient and envying the real boxers and some openly expressing how they wanna off you through their more violent dialogue.
so obviously content warning for gore and stuff (guys it’s late and I’m tired so just b careful AJHSJS)
Little Mac:
Mac plays that distorted tune in the dark as he creeps into your office… and proceeds to kill you by pushing your head against the wall, slamming it and fracturing your skull.
“Ya weren’t paying attention, Birdie! Heheheheh!”
“HAH! Gotcha!”
“Bet you Mac couldn’t do that in a million years… heheh… Too bad, Petey…”
Glass Joe:
Well if ya don’t close the door on Joey, he comes right on in and lunges over your desk to get to you. He kills you by snapping your neck.
“Oh ho ho! La victoire est à moi!”
(“Oh ho ho! The victory is mine!”)
“I got you now! Ho ho hoh!”
“You were frozen in fear at the sight of me! Oh my, how sad!”
“Il a passé des années à se faire craquer... Mais c'est maintenant à mon tour de VOUS briser.” (Evil French laughter)
(“He spent years getting cracked… but it’s now my turn to break YOU”)
Von Kaiser:
If ya disturb the war grandpa, he’s gonna rush to you screaming “ATTACKEN!” and bust into ya office. He vaults over your desk and slams his fist right into your face.
(Just evil German laughter here)
“Du bist so dumm, wie du mit Blutrot befleckt bist…”
(“You are as stupid as you are stained with blood red”)
“Deine Zeit läuft ab, Junge. Wenn deine Stunde zuschlägt... werde ich da sein, um deine Flamme zu löschen.”
(“Your time is running out, boy. When your hour strikes… I will be there to snuff out your flame”)
Disco Kid:
Disco’s itching to dance but equally itching to kill. He’ll boogie his way on up close and personal before spinning you round and round and slamming you into a hard surface. Owch.
“Whoopsie!~ Guess ya couldn’t handle the disco fever…”
“Aw, c’mon Pete! I was just gettin’ started too…”
“…C’mon now Peter… do you really think I’m just gonna let you go?… Mm-mm… I’m not nearly as nice as your friend. Let’s get down together… better keep up… or else I’m gonna paint you black and blue~”
King Hippo:
Hippo stomps right in, flips your desk and reenacts the bite of 87 on you.
“My, how flavorful!”
(Hippo laughter here)
(A different hippo laugh here)
“…Hippo sees you… in the camera… watching him…….. you.. look.. delicious. ….I’m coming for you.”
Piston Hondo:
Piston full on drags you into the vent like the xenomorph from Alien: Isolation while laughing maniacally.
(Evil ANIME laugh here)
(Enter another evil ANIME laugh here)
“Your ears aren’t up to par… that much is obvious.”
(This is said in Japanese but it’s difficult to accurately translate for me so just pretend) “Hah… Allow me to snuff out that flame of hope you have… I am not merciful like him. Struggle if you wish… it is futile. This night… I will not let you escape alive.”
Bear Hugger:
Well if ya don’t hide, he’ll just mow down your desk and crush your spine with his huge metallic arms! And if you hide when he’s already seen you, he’ll yoink ya from beneath the desk and lift you up, then crush your spine.
“Yahaha! Got ya!”
“Eh, no use hidin’ from me, Pete! I got the eyes of a hawk, ears like a bat and the strength of a bear! You can’t do nothin’ against me! Heheh!”
“Found ya!”
“C’mon, Pete… come out, come out wherever ya aaareeeee…~ I know you’re heeeree…~ I ain’t got candy for brains like that hoser… I ain’t stupid.”
“C’mon now, Birdie… I don’t like losin’… Why don’t you come on out for a nice, big squeeze…?~ I promise it won’t hurt… not for long anyways… heheheheh.”
Great Tiger:
Well ya slacked off and now you face the music. Tiger comes eeriely slithering out of your vent with his gem a-glowing before pouncing at you like a proper tiger. His clones even join in on the jumpscare! :D
(Mean laughter) “Oh… what terrible eyes you have, Peter.”
(Smooth but evil chuckle)
“If only you looked a little harder… oh well, you’re already dead…”
(Somewhat raspy and low) “Like a tiger, I stalk my prey… savor your pungent fear on my tongue… between my teeth… waiting… waiting… for the moment… that I… can finally… POUNCE!”
Don Flamenco:
Well, guess ya couldn’t resist the rose man’s charms. Don pops up and shanks ya right in the heart with his rose.
“Oh, pobre...”
(“Oh, you poor thing”)
“La muerte nunca ha sido tan poética, ¿eh?”
(“Death has never been this poetic, eh?”)
(Somewhat malicious laughter)
“Mercy…? Oh…… you foolish boy. I share no passion with… him. …The reaper calls your name… and I shall send you to him… I have no heart that beats in my chest… and I will bleed yours into stillness.”
Aran Ryan:
Well, ya looked. Why did you look? Well whatever the reason, Aran whips out his flail and tightens it around your neck. Snap crackle pop!
“Ya looked!”
(Irish gremlin chuckle)
(Irish gremlin cackling)
“Ya look pretty blue, Pete… did I squeeze ya a little too hard?”
“….You should see the look on yer face right now… heheh… what’s that…? You don’t want me to hurt you?… Heh… heheheheh! Sorry Petey… but I don’t change my mind like the other one does… Now… how about ya hold still…”
Soda Popinski:
Well, since Soda doesn’t kill you, he just breaks your door. He feels bad about it though.
“Sorry! Soda didn’t mean to break it!”
Bald Bull:
Busts down your door and proceeds to give you the nastiest headbutt of your life. …And the last headbutt of your life. Owch. That certainly left some blood.. everywhere…
“You weren’t going to keep me out forever.”
“You provoked the bull. And got the horns.”
(Slight evil chuckle) “Useless bird. You never stood a chance fighting me.”
“You may try and struggle… you may try and fight.. but it’s all in vain. I will get in one way or another… and when I do… I’ll coat the walls with your blood.”
Damnbullchill-
Super Macho Man:
Well ya fucked around and ya found out. He sweeps your desk aside and caves your face in with his boot once you’re on the ground.
“You don’t ever keep a star waiting.”
“Ugh! You ruined my photoshoot! >:[“
“Work it!~”
“You were taking too long, dude… not my fault you got such a bogus fragile skull…”
“Don’t make me wait… don’t test me. I’m not an idiot like that guy.. so you’d better hurry it up… or else.”
Mr. Sandman:
You once again fucked around and found out. The power goes out, and Sandman creaks open one of your doors and makes sure you’ve seen him before he comes in. Creepy how the only thing you’d see is his eyes.
“Heheh.. night night, Peter…”
“It’s way past your bedtime, baby… why don’t you start countin’ sheep?”
“Heh… sound sleeper, huh?…” (he says while watching peter actively bleed out)
“…It’s time for bed, Peter baby… n’ don’t think I’ll hold any punches. He mighta done that cause he likes you… but I don’t do holding back. Brush your teeth, close your eyes… and go to sleep.”
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Oh my god this was a real show- I thought it was all some fever dream.
I first heard about the show back when I was a child and some boy (I think his name was Theo??? I don’t really remember man) in my class was talking about how he loved it and never missed an episode. And I was curious about what he was so excited about that I managed to actually tune in for the next episode.
It was awful. I think my brain managed to suppress most of it but I think the premise was about teddy bears? About how important childhood stuffies are to kids and how they can provide fun and entertainment. I remember that it was lead by the yellow one, and he even talked about how his brothers have their favourite toys.
Anyway, the only part I can remember in vivid detail was when the yellow guy turned towards the screen and said “oh boy! And this is where I keep all my little toys! Toys like you! Isn’t that right Teddy Bear- I know you’re watching. This is where I keep you!.” And he held up this yellow box looking thing
And then the screaming started. Anguished, terrifying wailing just emanated out of the screen. Like agonised pleading and begging. I sound crazy typing this but I swear I don’t think I will ever be able to forget how that screaming sounded. I swear jt felt like it went on for ages, couldn’t have been more then 30 seconds but it felt like 85 years. There was nothing else going on with the screen either (I don’t believe) just a still frame of the yellow guy holding up that box. At the end the screen went all distorted and the whole program went offline.
I remember not being able to turn away, almost like I was trapped, transfixed just hearing this howling coming from the screen. After it cut out I immediately scrambled bed afterwards (not like it did any help- I couldn’t sleep afterwards). And till this day I still get nightmares filled with that scream.
So yea, I only watched a singular episode of this fucked up show - The screaming episode i’v personally dubbed it. But who in their right mind would put that type of content into a kids show? Bloody nightmare fuel. I still wonder where the hell the audio of that man screaming came from because it sounded to reastic (the voice actor must of been getting a good pay check).
I’ll have to internet sluth for a few days to see if I can find a screenshot, or even a clip, of what the hell I’m talking about because I sound insane. Everybody i’v mentioned this to thinks I’m making it all up but this blog has given me some hope that I am indeed not crazy and this was very much a real thing.
Good Fuck ???? see if you can dig that up cause im hardly beleiing you right now.. but it sounds like a more fucked up ersion of Blinky Stares At The Viewer Episode. with the funny goat. i'm.. excited(??????) to see what thats like.
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toaarcan · 2 years
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Nothing more concerning than watching this site fall for the exact same “Look how useless the Dems are, they’re just the same as the GOP, why do you even vote, voting is pointless” routine they did in 2016.
Because y’know what? The people who are telling you that you shouldn’t vote... do vote. And they vote Republican.
The Republicans build their entire strategy on manipulating districts to group together more of their supporters, relying on the Electoral College, and disenfranchising the left, because they’re so backwards and archaic that if they didn’t do those things, they’d never hold office again.
I’m not gonna say Biden’s perfect, because he’s not. Dude is the very definition of an establishment Democrat and he’s probably almost certainly too old for the job. He’s made basically no impact in any visible way. That’s all true.
But he’s also got basically the entire Republican party and a handful of his own standing in the way and making it impossible to achieve anything.
I mean for fuck’s sake, in 2017-2018, this site was filled with people screaming “Tyrant!” and “Fascist!” every time the Cheeto Man used an executive order to force his awful ideas into law without due process, and now those same people are becoming angry with Biden for not doing that.
In 2020, this site was filled with people going “Hey, don’t go all doomsayer and apathetic when Biden doesn’t take over and immediately fix everything, because that’s probably not going to happen, and getting the country to swing left is going to take a lot of time and effort and it’ll be a slow, painful process as a result.”
And oh look, now they’re going all doomsayer and apathetic because Biden didn’t take over and immediately transform one of the most racist and corrupt institutions on the planet into a leftist utopia with a snap of his fingers.
And yeah, a lot of this shit shouldn’t take a long time. The people who have suffered under America’s regime for decades shouldn’t have to wait for the old rich farts in charge of the machine to painstakingly fix their bullshit, it shouldn’t be like that. But it is like that. And we can’t fix that quickly any more than the Democrats can fix the damage the Republicans have done.
Yeah, the current crop of Democrats are about as uninspiring as it gets. But you’re not going to get any movement leftwards if you keep letting the extreme right that is the current GOP back into power.
I see the same shit every week these days. A screenshot of a tweet will start circulating, with the usual “Oh look how useless the President is” “He’s not doing anything” “He’s given up after trying nothing” “Remember when you said we had a moral obligation to vote for this man” and it will be massively popular, and all the blogs that talk politics will reblog it and agree with it.
And then two days later, it’ll reappear with an addendum added pointing out that the person that made the Tweet is a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, and has voted Red in every election since they hit voting age, including 2020.
Do you think this shit kicking into high-gear as we go into Midterms Year is a coincidence, or have you all just forgotten that this was the exact same strategy the Republicans used in 2016?
I feel like this site needs one of those “Is-The-Animal-Video-Cute” blogs but for political Twitter screenshots. “Is-The-Tweet-Republican-Propaganda” or some shit like that, because the answer is nearly always yes.
And I see a lot of people trotting out the age-old “It’s not my job to educate you!”
Yeah, no, see, that doesn’t work. Sure, it might feel righteous in the moment, but letting people do their own investigation on politics is basically feeding another brain to the right.
It’s been happening as far back as GamerGate, and probably before that too.
People asked the Left questions, the left went “It’s not my job to educate you”, so they went looking for answers, and they found people like Carl Benjamin, like MundaneMatt, like InternetAristocrat/Mr. Metokur, who ended up telling them that GG is right, actually, and there goes another one into the Alt-Right Pipeline.
The left’s unwillingness to actually talk to people, the fixation on paywalling our news sites and telling people to do their own research has only ever sent more people to Fox, to Breitbart, to 4chan.
So here’s what’s going to happen.
When election day rolls around, you are going to go and vote. You are going to vote blue. And maybe it’ll stick in your craw, maybe you’ll do it with gritted teeth, maybe you’ll spit on the ground afterwards.
But you’ll do it. Because the alternative is this:
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petboymart · 3 years
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hi, so loved bull boy asahi, gave me something I did not know I needed 🙏
HOWEVER may I offer bull boy goshiki??? who's like just a baby, like not fully grown, but like looks up to bull ushijima???
do with this what you will, my brain just screamed at me so
😐
a/n: y’all can’t keep coming up with better content than me i swear to GOD -eden<3
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bull!goshiki x fem!bodied reader x bull!ushijima
tw/cw: gender neutral pronouns, fem!bodied reader, rough sex, threesom, double penetration, ushijima calls reader a heifer but not in a mean way, breeding, squirting
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you’ve been working as a farm hand at a rescue and relocation farm for about six months now, and you’ve gotten to know all the animals and other farmers really well! you get about 2-4 new bull!boys and heifer!girls in every few months, and the new cattle are coming in today.
once the new cows step off the trailer and into the field you immediately take notice of the one with black hair and still-growing horns, he can’t be older than 19 or 20. you can tell that he’s nervous but trying to act as if he’s not, so you go over to him slowly. once you reach him you offer him a bright smile and introduce yourself before asking his name.
“i-um,” his voice squeaks when he tries to speak, so he clears his throat before re starting, “goshiki!” he almost yells
“well hello goshiki,” you start, “would you like me to show you to your stall?” he nods very quickly in response
bull!goshiki settles in quickly, but he’s still pretty on edge. he takes everything very seriously, and follows every request to the t.
since he’s arrived he’s really clung onto two people, or one person and one half person. he’s been attached to you since day one, and he became attached to another bull who’s been here for a while. goshiki saw bull!ushijima lift a tractor that was on top of a rope someone needed without even breaking a sweat and he immediately decided that he needed to learn everything from him
he’s like ushijimas shadow, doing everything he does, standing the way he does, eating the way he does, everything goshiki does is done the same way ushijima does it.
that includes ushijimas aloofness and disinterest towards the heifers. ushijima has never been a fan of how desperate the heifers are, especially considering that there’s almost a bull for every heifer on the farm
ushijima was here before you started working here, and according to the other farm hands, you’re the only one he’s ever genuinely and voluntarily had a conversation with. he warmed up to you within a week of your new employment, and decided that you were the perfect mate for him. and boy did he have a lot of pent up energy from not mating with heifers for so long. goshiki has followed as suit, deciding that you’re the only one worthy of his time, attention, and seed.
before, whenever other bulls would get to close to you for bull!ishijimas liking he would ram into them with his horns, knocking them to the ground, and looming over their defeated figure to add insult to injury. but for some reason, he lets bull!goshiki touch all over you! rub his head on your chest, lick your neck and cheeks, kiss your forehead, anything honestly. and you didn’t really understand why until the night that bull!ushijima yanked you into his stall, something he does when he’s needy, and bull!goshiki was sitting all cute and sweet on the stall floor with a happy smile on his face.
“ushijima said i could watch, and join if i’m good!” he said proudly while puffing out his chest
you feel a big hand wrap around you neck with a slight squeeze, ushijimas weird way of asking for consent, you tilt your head back to make eye contact with him and nod your head. next thing you knew you were on your knees, back arched, with your forearms under your face so it wouldn’t scrape against the floor in time with ushijimas brutal thrusts into your cunt, cowbell jingling with each one.
goshiki sits and stares in awe with a blush on his cheeks, cock red and throbbing every time he hears one of your sweet noises. he’s so thankful that ushijima pulled him aside after dinner and said he would teach him how to breed you properly.
you let out a high pitched mewl when ushijima his your sweet spot and goshiki starts panting. you vaguely register the deep voice of you lover giving instructions to his pupil
“goshiki,” god his raspy voice is so sexy, “you can touch yourself, and if you wish i can teach you where to touch her”
goshiki jumps into action, basically running over to ushijima who’s thrusts have never stopped, and dropping onto his knees. his fingers wrap around his pretty pale cock and he starts furiously jerking himself off while waiting for his instructions, staring at where ushijima is moving in and out of you
the bigger bull removes one of his hands from your hip to grab the smaller bulls free one before guiding it to your clit and instructing him to press gently while rubbing quick circles onto it. thanks to the stimulation on your clit, your noises grow in volume by ten fold, and you trash your first high of the night, body going limp and ringing fills your ears. but don’t worry, ushijimas strong enough to hold you up and thrust inside of you.
goshiki moans at your sounds and whimpers as he can already feel himself getting close, big black ears on the side of his head twitching in time with the sway of his tail and pace of his fist. ushijima, every the observant one, grabs the hand fisting his cock and gives a warning squeeze along with a soft glare. goshiki whines in response, eyes filling out tears of frustration, but listens none the less.
ushijima removes his hand from goshikis cock and places it around your waist, housing you up onto his lap bouncing you on his cock. his legs are bent at the knee, your legs straddling his thighs that rest atop his calves. your head falls onto his shoulder as you produce little ah ah ahs and ohs.
ushijima whispers a little, “good heifer,” into your ear, you’re still not sure why he chose that nickname but who are you to complain. he then looks over at goshiki and points infront of your body, signaling for him to go there and goshiki scrambles to do so. using one hand ushijima pulls goshiki onto the space between his knees and your body, pressing him close to your cunt. ushijima lines goshikis cock up with your already stuffed entrance, and you’re to fucked out to notice, but goshikis not.
“can-can they t-take both,” he whispers in a whiny, breathy voice.
ushijima smiles before giving goshikis cock and your hip a firm squeeze and says, “they can. and they will.” he says it so matter of fact that you believe him.
after goshiki an inch into your sex, he shuffles as close as he can, still sitting on ushijimas thighs, desperate to feel more of your warm insides. ushijima chuckles before lifting your legs so the straddle his and goshikis and places his hand at the base of goshikis back, pointer and middle finger on either side of his tail. the friction on one of his most sensitive parts forcing a cute little whimper from goshikis throat.
using the hand he has on goshikis lower back as leverage, ushi yanks him forward, snug against your chest and almost to where their balls are touching. as soon as goshiki is in place ushijima moves bothe hands back to your waist to bounce you on their cocks, the stretch slightly painful but it feels so so good.
the stall fills with high whines, whimpers, and moans coming from you and goshiki, and deep grunts, groans, and growls coming from ushijima. goshikis noises become more breathy and frequent, you don’t pick up on it but the older bull does. ushijima brings a hand to alternate rubbing goshikis balls and tail to help him reach his high, the later releasing his cum along with a high keen
ushijima returns his hand onto your hip and begins bouncing you even faster, goshikis warm seed leaking out of your hole, down their cocks and onto everyone’s thighs. goshiki moves to pull out, the over sensitivity causing his teary eyes to return, but ushijima yanks on his tail, causing the younger bull to yelp.
“you don’t move until i say you can move,” he growls dangerously low and it makes you shiver, “they haven’t finished yet, it’s very inconsiderate of you to use them for your pleasure and not bring them any of their own”
“i’m sorry! i want to make them feel good i swear!” goshiki rushed out, desperate to get back into his mentors good graces.
“then do it,” ushijima snarls before retiring his attention to you and you your neglected and sensitive clit.
without thinking goshiki latches onto one of your nipples and gives little sucks and nibbles to it, causing your back to arch into his mouth, moans going raspy as you begin to lose your voice.
“good boy,” ushijima praises goshiki who moans with your nipple in his mouth. the friction on your clit, goshikis moans and sucks on your nipples, the two massive cocks in your cunt, the wet squelching due to the mix of your juices and goshikis cum, plus ushijimas whispers of, “you’re such a good heifer, so good for us, gonna give good heifer our babies for being so good,” shove you over the edge.
your sight does black with white spots as you cum, clear liquid squirting from your pussy while ushijima continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high. you can hear his cowbell jingle with every bounce of your body
goshikis crying from the overstimulation, but his mind isn’t as far gone as your yet so he notices ushijimas eyebrows furrow and his grunts increase. he wants to help his mentor reach his high like ushi helped him reach his, so he reaches up his hand to play with ushijimas hair and ears. ushis eyes snap to goshiki who is giving him a hazy smile while sucking on you neck, ushijima grunts before releasing his load into your cunt.
a few moments later, when you’re composed enough to pick up on your surroundings you notice ushijima stroking goshikis ears and hair while telling him how good he did, the later wearing a deep blush and proud smile.
usjijima tends to you and cleans all three of you up before laying you down on his chest with an arm around goshiki who is snuggled into his chest. you see the look of content and adoration on both of their faces and smile at the realization that your duo has become a trio.
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a/n: bull. goshiki. 🥺. so egar to please, wants to be praised so bad, wants you to tell him he’s your favorite bull, is so dedicated to you, loves you so much. he’s so CUTE I CANT SOBSOBSOB, and bull!ushijima is so protective and possessive over both his babies. if heifers ever flirt with you or goshiki, he won’t fight them like he does with bulls, but he will give them a death glare. -eden <3
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charleswaterloo · 3 years
Note
AGREED DO THE ULTIMATE FIC REC
Thank you so much for asking!! Okay, here we go!
DC fics that I got a few paragraphs into and already KNEW were going to be AMAZING:
1. The Jason Project by loosingletters
Warnings: Major Character Death
Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.
My thoughts: I don't often cry (which isn't healthy lmao) but this fic made me cry (happy tears!). It is absolutely wonderful and while angsty it has such a beautiful ending. I can't recommend it enough!
2. Little bird by Ididloveyou_once
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Tim knew he was fucked if only for the way that his brain was chanting Jason, like a litany. So he definitely didn’t need to hear the cold, mechanical chuckle or the chillingly delighted 'lucky me' to know that this was not good.
He took a second to look down at his coffee mournfully.
Then, he threw it at Hood’s helmet and bolted down the Tower corridor.
Or: Tim is supposed to be at Gotham Academy for a parent-teacher conference. Hood has other plans (Titans Tower AU).
My thoughts: One of the best Titans Tower AU fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The ending is to die for and so fluffy - it never fails to warm my heart <3
3. Straight to Voicemail by cabbagetop
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
“Red Hood. I need you to incapacitate Timothy Drake-Wayne.” “Aw, man,” Jason sighs, shouldering through the old wooden doors and out into the street with his books under his arm. “You and half the northern hemisphere. What’d he do this time?”
Jason's phone is blowing up about one Timothy Drake-Wayne (who is Jason's responsibility since when, exactly?). Jason comfort-eats. Jason suffers long. Jason reluctantly tries to keep this Raphus cucullatus of a human being alive, and maybe finds himself sidling back into the family while he's at it.
My thoughts: I was crying with laughter by the third sentence. If you want free serotonin, you will find it here folks, I guarantee it. Brilliantly written and hilarious and such a fantastic interpretation of Jason's character. Please read this lmao <3
4. miss me? by envysparkler
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Jason’s plan to observe his family’s reactions to his resurrection…does not go as intended.
My thoughts: I think I've recommended this one at least once before, but I will do so again because it is one of the best stories I have ever had the honour of reading on AO3. It has a happy ending, but was another fic which actually made me tear up. It is just beautiful and I'm sure some of you have read it before. Read it again even if you have - it's that good.
5. No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?”
Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”
My thoughts: I know of only about 3 or 4 fics featuring Tim absolutely high out of his mind on some drug or another and this has got to be one of the absolute best of them. Whenever I feel the Depression(TM) crawling in and I need to laugh INSTANTLY I read this. It has not failed me yet. I can't recommend it enough it's so funny and a great read <3 The line below from the fic makes me scream laugh EVERY TIME:
“He’s not in his right mind.” “So? Neither are you half the time but you’re still in charge of everything.”
6. The Ouija Boy by SunnyBlue
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Timothy Drake was a stillborn baby. He was born dead, stayed that way for a solid five minutes, and was then resuscitated in the delivery room. He was a child who grew up alone, but for his imaginary friends. He had so many imaginary friends, in fact, that his parents sent him to get evaluated several times over the course of his childhood, which was spent with Tim as the only heartbeat in that house.
But that didn’t mean he was alone.
---
Tim sees dead people. When a Batboys murder investigation is going nowhere, he realizes his only chance at solving the case is to speak to the ghost of one of the victims. He has to reveal his secret to his brothers -- or risk the killer getting away.
My thoughts: STAND BACK FOR POSSIBLY ONE OF MY TOP TEN FAVOURITE FICS OF ALL TIME. I'm pretty sure I've recommended this one before but I will do so again. The story is impeccable, the mystery is ELITE and everything about it is literally perfect. I re-read this at least once a month so I can bask in its greatness and become a better person for having read it.
7. there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
From a tumblr prompt.
AKA, "A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who's the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points."
My thoughts: I'm going to let the note I added to the bookmark I made of this fic speak for itself. Here's what I wrote: "This was so funny - shoutout Jason for undeniable lad vibes plus the fact he felt he needed to neatly organise and write down the big three's sexiest traits."
8. American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.
Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.
That's Jason's job, after all.
My thoughts: Please GOD just read the first few paragraphs. You'll know exactly what I mean when I say that this fic is it. Hilarious, badass and adorable. I mean, see the title of this fic rec. I just knew this fic was going to be amazing from the first line.
I have many, many more of course, but I'll leave this here for now as it's getting to be a pretty long post. Anyway, these are all fics - short and long! - that I knew were going to be absolutely perfect within the first few moments of reading. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!
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roscgcld · 3 years
Text
DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality
;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!
note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~
pronouns: she/her
daydreaming!reader masterlist
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“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”
Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”
The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.
However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.
Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”
“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”
“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”
“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”
The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.
That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”
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Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”
Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”
“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure. 
Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay. 
But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”
The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”
His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”
The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more. 
For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”
“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”
Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”
After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”
Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”
A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”
Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?” 
Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”
The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.
“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”
The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”
Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”
The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”
Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.
So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news. 
If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place. 
He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.
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Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”
Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-
A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”
Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”
With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”
Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”
A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.
“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school. 
“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips. 
Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.
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A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.
Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.
Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.
Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.
The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.
But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.
Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.
Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.
But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.
Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.
Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid. 
The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.
Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.
They have to try, for her sake.
It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.
“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”
Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.
Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.
“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”
Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.
Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”
“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance. 
“Why am I not surprised at all?”
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© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform
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missgeniality · 3 years
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Opaline Moon (m)
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“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan
➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕
➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader
➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU
➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff
➺ Rating: 18+
➺ Word Count: 11.2k
➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 
➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er
➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!
This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!
ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
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Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.
Kim Seokjin.
Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.
Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.
Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 
One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 
This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 
Best. Friends.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 
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The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 
You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.
“Y/N!” 
Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.
“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”
“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”
“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.
“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”
“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 
Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.
His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 
“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”
You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 
“What happened?”
“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 
She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.
“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”
You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 
Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 
The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 
He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.
But wow.
His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.
By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 
“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.
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You’re far too overdressed. 
You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 
The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 
You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 
“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”
Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.
“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.
“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”
“That’s the fact?”
“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”
“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”
“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 
“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”
“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”
“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.
Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 
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One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 
With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 
“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 
“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 
His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 
You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 
How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 
Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 
One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 
“Fuck me.” 
In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.
“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 
“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 
“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
No, no, no. 
Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 
“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”
“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”
Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 
Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.
But something doesn’t feel right.
The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.
Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.
Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.
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 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.
“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”
“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 
Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 
It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.
“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!
“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”
“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 
Cool.
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You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 
Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 
One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 
I don’t want to hurt you.
Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 
I don’t want to hurt you.
In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.
And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 
The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.
Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk
Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.
Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya
Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 
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The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 
He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 
“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”
Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.
You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 
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As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 
Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 
In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.
“Hey.”
If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 
“Hi. How are you doing?”
Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”
The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 
“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”
His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 
But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.
“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 
Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 
“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 
His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 
You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”
He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.
Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 
“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 
“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 
Best friends.
Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.
But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.
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“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”
Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 
Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 
Well, not quite. Not one bit.
After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).
“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”
You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 
Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 
“Hey!” 
The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 
One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 
“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.
“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”
Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 
Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.
A process that includes him getting naked.
Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-
Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 
And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 
The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 
Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-
“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”
And there goes that dream. 
You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.
It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.
But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.
Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 
“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”
“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 
He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 
It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.
The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.
Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 
Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.
Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.
Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 
The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.
“Y-Y/N?”
Fuck.
You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 
Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?
You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 
Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 
Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.
You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  
His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.
Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.
As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 
His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.
Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.
“I- I was jus-”
“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.
After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”
Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”
“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”
“Jin, I-”
“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”
You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 
“I love you, Y/N.”
No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 
“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”
“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”
“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”
You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.
And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.
You love him.
“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”
“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.
“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.
“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”
It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 
When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”
You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”
“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 
“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”
“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”
You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 
Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”
“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.
When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”
You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”
His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 
“So much more.”
Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.
“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”
Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 
“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 
He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”
You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 
“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”
“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”
“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”
“God, gladly.”
Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.
“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 
Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.
“Can I-”
“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”
All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”
“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”
“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”
You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 
Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 
Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.
You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 
The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.
His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 
When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 
Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.
“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.
“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.
With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 
“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 
“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”
His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 
Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 
“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 
Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 
Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”
“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 
“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”
How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 
“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.
Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”
“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”
“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.
“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 
“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”
“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”
“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.
“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”
He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”
“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”
You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 
“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.
“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.
“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”
“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.
“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.
Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 
“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 
You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.
“You can move now, babe.”
“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 
Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 
“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”
“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”
“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”
To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 
He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 
You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 
“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.
You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 
And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.
You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 
Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.
“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”
“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”
Now this is something you could get used to.
As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 
“I love you.”
The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 
“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”
If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 
You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.
“What is that?”
The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 
“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”
“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”
He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.
“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”
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Taglist 💛:  @little7bitchh​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead​
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Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)
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ballorawan740 · 3 years
Text
SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)
Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post
Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp
WARNING: Swearing (sorta)
Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child
It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing
SCP 073 (Cain)
Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do
Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry
Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you
Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it
Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this
Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad
And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word
Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware
SCP 076-2 (Abel)
Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them
It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words
One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative
You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers
Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing
This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child
And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people
SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)
Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob
Another SCP who doesn't cuss
This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time
He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket
999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it
He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world
The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words
SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)
YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear
682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows
Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you
She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682
You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear
Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement
This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child
Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no
She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell
You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them
682 had a headache after that
SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)
I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost
Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child
Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)
So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word
This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words
He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others
Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons
SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)
Another parent with such an amazing influence on children
035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression
So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way
Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)
The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression
Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident
This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)
Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)
035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free
SCP 105 (Iris)
Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice
So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"
The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways
They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?
Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12
The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates
As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother
Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up
SCP 106 (Old Man)
Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely
And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you
He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English
My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others
Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)
You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair
You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed
I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication
So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not
SCP 096 (Shy Guy)
Now with 096, all he does is scream
So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words
It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face
He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe
And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level
You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them
The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away
096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)
Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word
Dr Jack bright
This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm
Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers
Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you
And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words
Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work
He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing
For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"
And yes, you did laugh at his antics
Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)
Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass
Or maybe even on par with him
Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid
Dr Simon Glass
Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15
Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2
So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs
Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed
I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it
It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here
He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list
He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions
Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour
He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic
As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health
It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression
He would even crack a joke sometimes
So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything
Dr Alto Clef
Another top tier dad, but swearing addition
Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright
Then it's Kondraki and Glass
He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you
Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)
Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic
And poor Kondraki  is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully
One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio
And OML did it end so well
You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing
Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more
Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour
Dr Benjamin Kondraki
Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language
But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it
His style of parenting is similar to Simon's
And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle
You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that
Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though
So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea
And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said
He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...
Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)
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fruitcoops · 3 years
Note
I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings
Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!
TW for mentioned bad parenting
“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”
Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.
“Was it hard for you?”
He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”
“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”
There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”
“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”
Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“Before, or now?”
Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”
“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”
Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”
“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”
“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.
“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”
“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”
“No.” The answer was immediate.
“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”
“You should tell them.”
He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”
“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”
“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”
Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”
“I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”
Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”
“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”
“Did you ever get homesick?”
The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.
“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.
“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”
“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”
Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”
“You have a kind family.”
“Have you even met them?”
“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”
“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”
“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”
Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”
“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”
“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”
“Okay, rude.”
“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.
They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.
“What does it feel like?”
Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”
“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”
Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”
“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”
“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”
Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.
“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”
“The way things were before?”
“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”
“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”
“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”
“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”
“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”
“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”
“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”
“You’re lucky to have them.”
“I wish you did.”
The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”
Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”
“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”
“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”
The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”
“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”
Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”
Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”
“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”
“What happened?”
Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”
“Really?”
“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”
“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.
“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”
“Did it work?”
“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”
“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”
“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”
“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”
Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”
“For seven years?”
“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”
“How old were you when you knew?”
“13. You?”
Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”
“They worry a lot about you.”
“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”
“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”
“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”
“Of course.”
You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”
“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”
Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”
“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”
“I’m not a rookie.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.
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hansolmates · 3 years
Text
me time (m)
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summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖
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Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray. 
Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time. 
You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator. 
“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!” 
The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face. 
Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds. 
However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely. 
You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day. 
What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open. 
“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.” 
Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him. 
You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season. 
To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie. 
Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself. 
“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.” 
She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise. 
“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.” 
You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip  that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook. 
“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making. 
“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.” 
“No, that’s my mug.” 
“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!” 
“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”  
It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug. 
“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.” 
He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure? 
Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.” 
You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night. 
“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop. 
Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills. 
“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours. 
With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride. 
Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it. 
“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.” 
Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away. 
You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely. 
687 notes · View notes
itsapeterthing · 3 years
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Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.
a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!
word count: 2.7k
warnings: arguing, swearing, angst
Prologue, One, Two, Three
masterlist || request || taglist
Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.
“What the-”
Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.
Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.
Bucky.
The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.
Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him. 
All you could feel was fear.
“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.
Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.
“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”
Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.
“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”
You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.
“More than I’d like to.” You said.
Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.
“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”
Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.
“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.
“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”
“That’s what we all thought.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.
“How long have I been out?” You asked.
Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.
“Two days.”
Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.
“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.
Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.
He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.
“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.
Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.
“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”
Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.
He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.
The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.
“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.
“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”
He did.
He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.
It had been eating away at him for years.
He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.
“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”
Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.
“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.
Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.
Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”
Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.
“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”
Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.
“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said
“You could say that.”
“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”
“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.
Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.
“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”
This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.
Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.
“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”
Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.
You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.
You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.
But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.
Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.
Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.
“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.
“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”
Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.
He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super  soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.
He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.
He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.
He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.
All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.
“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.
“Okay.”
As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”
“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”
Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.
“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.
You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.
“I need to say something-”
Of course he did.
“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”
“Y/n-”
“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”
“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”
Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.
“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”
“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.
“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.
“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”
Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.
“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”
Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm. 
Shrugging him off, you shook your head.
“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”
He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.
Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.
Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.
Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.
Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.
Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Leaden Dreams
Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader
Word Count: 1,908
Warnings: Vague depictions of sleep paralysis
Premise: In which the reader experiences sleep paralysis
Author’s Note: First time writing Kazuha! I just finished his story quest today, so I hope that I have an okay grasp on him. Still working on his talking style a bit but I adore his personality.
Also though I experience the part of sleep paralysis where you’re awake but can’t move (can’t recommend the experience) it’s usually during the day so I don’t really experience dreams. As of such if this is inaccurate in any ways I’m very sorry.
Albedo
Albedo knew about sleep paralysis on a theoretically level, knew that it was a phenomenon that caused one’s brain to awaken when the body was still fast asleep. He’d never given the concept much thought, not any more than he might any other bit of science that remained shelved in his mind.
Now that was certainly not the case.
Albedo knew the telltale signs, the small spasms that revealed the battle between your mind and your body. Knowing that you were fighting to move your limbs, open your eyes, relax your jaw, he would always speak first, knowing that you might not immediately respond.
“It’s alright my dear, I’m here. I know it’s frightening, but I promise you’ll be able to move soon. Just focus on one thing, alright? Maybe your eyes this time, since last time you tried moving your tongue. That’s it, just one thing first. It’s always better to start small.”
He wouldn’t move from his sleeping position until you regained control of your body, afraid that a sudden touch might cause you even more distress. Keeping himself carefully pressed into the mattress he didn’t fare lift his head, for fear his face might melt into something frightening. Since he knew he was helpless, his goal became to stop things from getting worse.
The moment you began to move however the alchemist would jump into action. Turning lights on he would pick up the glass of water from his nightstand before gathering you up into his arms, positioning himself so you could listen to his heartbeat as you drank. The first time it had happened he had left the room to get the glass to soon, and the memory of you curled up desperately into the covers still tugged at him.
Albedo would then go through what you had half-dreamed with you, thoroughly debunking all the distortions of your normal life. That shadowed human outside the window was a combination of the balcony and the half opened curtains. The voices were partially his own, partially your brain trying to process your own breathing. The figure hiding behind the door of the hallway was because of the boxed piled along the other side of the wall. The people dancing on the ceiling could be fixed with a repaint. Over and over he would remind you of the fact that you were safe, that your amygdala was simply going into overdrive. Over and over he would thoroughly debunk your nightmares until once more things settled into place, piles of clothing becoming one more fabric, dressers no longer dancing as if possessed.
He would tell you to wake him up if he began falling back to sleep, determined that he should be watching over you to make sure an episode didn’t happen as you were falling back asleep.
In reality though you didn’t mind if he drifted off a little before you. His breathing was a soothing melody, his slow, steady heartbeat a rhythm with which you could anchor yourself. He was staid and sure, and that was something you grasped onto desperately, something you would never stop appreciating.
Soon enough his reasons would soothe your mind, and you’d fall once more asleep.
 Kazuha
The first thing Kazuha always did was pull the blankets over you. If the outside world was threatening you, then he’d simply block it out.
Making a cocoon around the two of you he would begin to tell stories. Fairy tales, things that had happened to him during his travels, anything that you brain might latch onto. The stories were always very short and self-contained, easy to understand, and through your panic addled brain you always seemed to find them.
Sometimes when things were particularly bad he’d softly cradled your hands, careful not to move to quickly or too suddenly in case the sensation caused you to panic even more.
“Our hands fit together so well, don’t you think? I could write a poem about them, or maybe about yours. Maybe you’ll help me with it after this is over? It will be soon dearest, I know it will.”
Sometimes he would sing little songs that he’d picked up. Usually sea shanties, their rhythm helped you, less complex than poetry, more lyrical than the jagged fear that screamed at you.
Kazuha wouldn’t ask you to share immediately. When you finally moved he would first squeeze your hands gently, kissing them before your forehead, asking if it was too hot beneath the blankets, then making sure a light was on if you needed a little fresh air.
He never acknowledged what had happened before you did, but he wouldn’t pretend like it didn’t happen either. Instead he would ask if you wanted to listen to a story or tell one. Whichever you chose he would keep holding your hands, making sure that even when he gave you space there was still something that grounded you.
Sometimes when you cried he would tell a very specific story.
“There once was a warrior, brave of heart. So brave were they that shadows tried to chase them. Someone this noble cannot exist! They cried out. The warrior must be false. We will find their weakness. However no matter how hard they tried this weakness was never found. For the warrior was truly brave in heart and soul.”
Normally you might consider such a story overdone, but in those liminal moments between fear and sleep the story format helped. This was simply a harrowing part of a story, but there would surely be a better end.
 Scaramouche
Scaramouche never thought that he’d ever sleep next to you.
Humans were loud and irritating, and that only became more true when the Harbinger was trying to get a few precious hours of sleep.
However after a particularly bad week he decided that the only solution to your terrible lack of attention was to deal with the matter himself.
He wasn’t necessarily nice about it, grumbling about your poor sleeping habits, saying that this was an awful waste of time. However the moment that panic consumed you, the moment that things started to twist around you, you felt a sudden hand on your arm.
“These idiotic phantoms are nothing. Come on, I know you’re strong enough. How could you ever let something so puny win against you.”
Though you certainly didn’t agree with him about that you had to admit it helped somewhat. Though your initial panic never disappeared, it became easier to climb out of your dreams, to see a light at the end of the endless tunnel of fear.
Every time you jerked once more awake Scaramouche let himself admit some sort of relieved satisfaction.
“You’ve done it again. As you always have. I don’t know why I bother sleeping here when you’re competent enough on your own.”
Nevertheless Scaramouche would always let you embrace him, not commenting on the tears that often accompanied you. Loosely resting his arms on your back he let out exaggerated breaths.
“Will you sleep now?”
It didn’t matter if you said no. Scaramouche would simply mutter something about bad sleep habits, but he would nevertheless stay awake.
He would always fall asleep last, even when his eyes burned slightly and his body called out for rest.
If he was going through all this trouble after all, he might as well see it through to the end.
 Xiao
Xiao saw dreams as extensions of human karma, of human wants and needs and wishes.
If a human dreamt a good wish, it was a revelation of their hearts desire. If they tossed and turned with nightmares it was their fears and shames manifesting. A dream was never just a dream, a shuffle of random events and names and faces. Dreams were alive; dreams had their own wills, all connected to the will of the human they were attached too.
Xiao loathed to see you haunted by your dreams. How could someone so wonderful as your be chased by something so awful? The little that you told your partner caused a distant sort of dread. He could never understand your fear of falling asleep, but he surely felt the dread of whether or not you might be allowed peace.
The threads that surrounded you, that surrounded all humans, always tensed when you were entering an episode. Careful not to leave your side too much Xiao would light a few candles, not too much to be jarring to your eyes, not too little to add to your nightmares. If you could only open your eyes then Xiao would pay even more attention, making sure that the dim lighting didn’t add to your distress, shifting the candles or blowing them out if need be.
Xiao didn’t talk much normally, but he would keep up a steady stream of questions in these moments, even if you couldn’t answer them. Whether you were aware of his presence, whether the window being open was a problem or not, whether you needed more light or less. He would keep these questions in the back of his mind for you to answer once you could again, not only so he could do better next time, but in case the nightmares we too close to be spoken about.
Usually Xiao would ask about them again in the morning, and sometimes you would discuss it then. Though the yaksha knew that nightmares were often the fears that humans accumulated, the curses that attached themselves to unsuspecting victims, he never talked about that aspect with you, indeed when he talked about it at all. Most of the time he would just listen, tracing soft circles along your back and down your arms.
Right after an episode Xiao would make his way over to you. Most of the time he would stay in one place while the episode was happening, near the candles or by the window, making sure he didn’t startle you anymore. Now though he might move every once in a while, or turn your head softly towards him if your eyes became fixated on one spot in the room. Always he’d go to open the window, and the familiarity of the routine became something that lulled you back into a sense of piece.
Not sleeping himself Xiao never told you that you need more rest, that you should go back to sleep. If you needed to stay up the rest of the night so be it, he would be there with you. If you were too tired and found yourself drifting off to sleep he would promise to protect you, to fight off any demons that might be lurking.
Sometimes Xiao feared that his burden of curses exacerbated your sleep paralysis. Those evenings he would wait for you to sleep before slipping away. Always he would leave his sleeve and his mask, making sure that if you woke up you would still have something of his presence to comfort or protect yourself with. Those nights he would stare out into Liyue and think about all the things that he carried with him, all the things that you did too.
Regardless of those nights he would be there in the morning.
“Did you sleep well afterwards?” He would always ask. Regardless of your answer, which he would surely pay attention to after his second question, he would stare into your eyes.
“Do you think things would be easier without my presence?”
Always you said no.
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conjurethecosmos · 3 years
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Honey we need to talk - Steve Rodgers x little!reader
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AN:///Hey this is my first fan fiction so please don’t be that hard on me lmao. also i just wanted to say that this isn’t a kink and I don’t write any kink related stuff. PSA age regression is a coping mechanism. If you like my work please like <3 also my asks are open so feel free to ask or suggest stories if you like :)
Word Count: 2k
(Y/N) POV
The surviving Avengers were finally coming back to the tower. Life had already changed just within the hours of the blip, but (Y/N) was alone and did not know about the blip. (Y/N) had been home at the tower safe, protected, from the terror that the avengers were fighting. She knew about Thanos and how he was trying to get all the stones, but the Avengers are the most powerful superheroes ever, they have to win, right? F.R.I.D.A.Y had been keeping watch of the currently sleeping (Y/N) making sure she was okay. The Avenger’s tower was known to be soundproof to keep the bustling sound of the city outside, which is why (Y/N) hadn’t been disturbed. The screams, screeches of cars, and general commotion of the people were not heard by the sleeping girl. F.R.I.D.A.Y did know what had happened when she lost contact with most of the avengers. She did not want to alarm (Y/N) since she had been extremely stressed out and with stress came her age regression. F.R.I.D.A.Y just did not want her to panic without anyone to physically console her since almost everyone she loved was gone. She would just wait till the remaining avengers arrived back to tell her what happened and so she could inevitably regress in the comfort of someone’s arms.
(Y/N) woke up with a yawn surrounded by scattered stuffed animals and ruffled bedsheets. The first thing that she wanted to do was to check her phone to see if Bucky, Steve, or Peter texted her to check up or send a picture of them together happy and coming home. Peter was a regressor like (Y/N) and they would always play together in the toy room conveniently located next to (Y/N)’s room. But, when she tapped on their phone it would not turn on. Even the dead battery screen that would pop up if she did forget to charge her phone the night before didn’t even pop up. So, she decided to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y what was wrong with the phone. “I am sorry (Y/N) I can not seem to turn on your phone, there doesn’t seem to be any issue with it” F.R.I.D.A.Y states. “What do you mean nothing wrong? It won’t even turn on. Ugh I guess I will have to go and get a new phone then.” (Y/N) says. That is when F.R.I.D.A.Y quickly responds “I am sorry to tell you this, but I have been advised to keep you inside for your safety.” She let out a huff and decide that she might as well get dressed. She doesn’t even know when everyone will be back, but the night before Steve called and said that they would all probably be back the following day. All she wanted to do is color and play with stuffies with Peter while Steve sat in the chair in the corner of the shared playroom reading a book.
Steve’s POV
Bucky disintegrated right before his eyes. His best friend, gone, all from a snap. Thanos had disappeared and left Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Bruce enraged, however, what could they do. The flight back was solemn and quiet. No one dared to cry in front of each other despite the trauma accumulated today, save for Nat who sat quietly crying. Steve only looked forward to seeing his favorite person, (Y/N), which he cared for most of the time due to her tendency to regress when he is with her. He did not mind at all, in fact his caring personality just made him gravitate more towards being (Y/N)’s caregiver. His brain was going a mile a minute just thinking of how to tell (Y/N) that half the population was gone, including some people she loved so much. The avengers were informed by F.R.I.D.A.Y which avenger had sadly been blipped. That only caused the already somber mood to become worse. Steve just sat there staring at the many buttons on planes’ cockpit thinking about how (Y/N) would react to the news of Peter being gone. He was her only little friend, he was always there for her when she was having a hard day and needed to regress. They were best friends, just like Bucky and I. ‘I think I will just tell her as an adult and then take care of her if she needs to regress’ Steve thought. They then eventually started descending onto the landing pad on top of the tower.
(Y/N)’s POV
It was now about 8 pm. You kept youself occupied by cleaning since oddly enough the usual cleaner never showed up.You thought that it was weird, but assumed that the cleaner may have had the day off or something. The T.V. was also broken, like your phone it wouldn’t turn on. You could not watch the news or a movie, so you were pretty bored the whole day.  You were pulled out of your boring thoughts when you heard keys enter the lock on the front door. Steve entered first looking panicked as he looked around to see if you were there, alive. You smiled at him and gave him a big hug, which caused him to hug you tighter almost as if you would disappear right before him. Immediately, you knew it was a hard mission. I mean they were gone for weeks so it had to be hard. However, He had a look on his face that you had never seen before. “Honey we need to talk” Steve sighed. They both walked into your bedroom to talk in private. You sat down on your bed hugging your stuffed purple fluffy bunny that was won by Bucky at a fair one year. Steve got the chair by your desk and moved it to be in front of you and then sat. “So, I am sure you are wondering what happened today?” Steve asked. “Yeah kinda. I haven’t heard anything since my phone is broken and the T.V. was off” you huffed. “Sweetie there really isn’t a good way of putting this...” he hesitated for a second but then started talking again looking at you straight in the eyes, “So Thanos got all the stones and snapped his finger which caused half the population to disappear.” You then started hugging your bunny as he continued to explain which avengers were gone. Tears were already starting to spill as you shut your eyes tightly. When he mentioned that peter was gone that is when you let out a loud pained cry. Steve had to hug you, to comfort his princess. He was not sure if he should have told you that a ton of people were gone, but you needed to know. If he didn’t and you would have asked about Peter, it would probably cause him to burst into tears. You started to regress, he could tell because you started sobbing and rocking. He knew that he needed to comfort you better than just hugging you so he decided that distracting you might be better. “Princess, I know you are sad about what I told you, but I just want you to know I am here for you.” Steve calmly says. “Bu-But I wan Pete n buck” (Y/N) blubbered. “I know baby, you can cry as much as you want,” He says while placing your head on his chest. Tears stain his shirt. He was tempted to cry with you, but he knew he needed to save his tears for when he was alone. Now was the time for his princess to grieve. After you crying for about twenty-five minutes Steve grabbed your paci so you could sleep. He could tell you had regressed. He placed you on your bed to lay down with your favorite bunny stuffie in your arms. Steve decided to sleep in the chair for the night just to watch over you in case you woke in the middle of the night in need of some comfort. He sat there staring at your sleeping form silently sobbing just because of all the stress of the day. It just hit him like a wave, but he eventually fell asleep. You woke up at 2 am to use the bathroom. You looked around the nightlight lit room to find Steve passed out in a chair located in the corner of the room. You slowly walked over, stuffie in hand, to wake the superhero up. You could not go to the bathroom by yourself since she was scared Thanos would be outside her door. Not even the bravest stuffie you owned could calm your fears. You poked Steve’s thigh to wake him up. Steve looked around in a panic only to see your puffy face. “Hey doll, what does my little princess need?” he asks. “I need to go potty, but I scared to go alone...” You shyly stated. “That’s okay, come on baby.” He escorts you to the bathroom and back. “Um Stevie, could you pwease cuddle me to sleep. I scared to sleep myself?” You sheepishly ask. ”Of course my baby.”
The next morning
You had woken up small. You could only speak like a three-year-old. That was okay with Steve though because he loved caring for you. He carried you into the living room and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and you a sippy cup with strawberry milk with a plate of mini pancakes. He turned on your favorite Disney movie while he cooked for you. Caring for you was a needed distraction. He needed to feel like he was making a difference and obviously, the events of the previous day made him feel like all his efforts of protecting America or the Earth were all for nothing. But, taking care of you was rewarding and therapeutic. “Stevie, thanks for the pancakes, dis milk is so good too!” (Y/N) exclaimed with a cute little smile. “Aw, you’re so welcome, sweetie.”
5 years later
Time had passed, (Y/N) regressed more often than ever. She was rarely ever her adult self. Thankfully Steve had set up a group talk therapy session with some survivors which (Y/N) joined every time they had a meeting. She would only talk about missing Peter while hugging a stuffie she would bring. The group members never judged her though since they all had their own coping mechanisms if they had any. She was usually really shy in front of the group since mentally she was three and really did not have that much to say in front of the strangers.
Eventually, Bruce hatched an idea to bring everyone back, which caused you to be alone again. You just stayed in the playroom alone playing with barbies or watching a movie. Steve would call you from time to time to check up on you, luckily F.R.I.D.A.Y was a great caretaker and gave you your basic needs. The Avengers were now successful in bringing everyone back. Sadly, Tony had passed away though. You attended his funeral with Steve at your side. You still hadn’t seen Peter yet but did not want to interrupt his grieving since Tony was his main caregiver and mentor. Tony was the only father figure he had and he was just gone. Steve decided it would be best to have you pick a stuffed animal at the store for Peter to keep during this hard time. You decided on a red bear with a gold ribbon on his neck. Steve had the red bear in his hands ready to gift to Peter, while you had a new Pink bear with a white bow around its neck that you named Poppy. Once the funeral was done Steve held your hand to walk up to Peter. He looked so small and in need of someone to care for him. Steve then spoke, “Peter, I am deeply sorry for your loss. I know how you feel and if you need (Y/N) or me, don’t hesitate. (Y/N) thought that she should get you this special bear for you to give you comfort.” He handed Peter the red bear and Peter just hugged it close. Steve knew that he was going to have to take care of Peter and (Y/N) from now on, but he was ready for it. He loved you both dearly. “I hope you like the bear Peter, I thought you would like him since he’s your favorite color. See I have a pink one like yours, we’re twins!” You said trying to distract Peter. Peter rarely ever spoke when he was little, and this wasn’t any different. He eventually accepted your gift with a tight hug as his tears fell on your shoulder. 
Time skip: a couple of months
Peter eventually moved into the tower and got a room next to yours. Steve now had two regressors to take care of now, but at least he had the aid of Bucky who would just baby sit. You were currently in your room putting on one of Steves old shirts with black leggings. His shirts made you feel even smaller since it was so baggy. Steve then quietly knocked on your door for permission to come in. “Yes?” you asked. Steve then opened the door and stepped in with his hand in Peters. Peter had a smile on his face for probably the first time in months. You smiled back and then turned to face Steve who obviously wanted to ask you something. “Are you little right now (Y/N) or are you big because Pete wants to play blocks with you?” Steve asks. You beam and excitedly say, “I wan play blocks! Pete can we make a town wif da blocks and cars and my dollys?” This just caused Peter to run and hug you. You two ran to the next room to play together. Storage containers were quickly opened and blocks were scattered to begin construction on the town. Steve watched you two play from the door with a smile on his face. 
I am sorry this story was everywhere 
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wizkiddx · 3 years
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hiii could you do one of tom asking your dad to marry you?? thankuuuuu
okay so I don't believe in boys having to ask the dads, because we are strong independent QUEENS and no man owns me ever, but I hope this is still okay <33
not proof read and written super quick so sorry!
summary: Tom's terrified to ask your dad a very particular question question
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“Mr Y/l/n” Tom called your dads attention from the dishwasher he was loading up. The holidays spent at your parents meant a lot of good things- but mainly food. So much so the dishwasher was almost continually on, just so you didn’t run out of crockery.
“Its Y/d/n Tom, we’ve been through this.” He was joking but with your Dad - Tom could never really tell. At heart your dad was an absolute softie, except no one really saw that except your mum and you. Always a daddies girl, Tom knew how much your dad had meant to you. He had guessed before he’d met you parents , that he would be protective.
And that he was, never frontally rude or cruel. It was more subtle - though to Tom it was very damn clear, he had his doubts. As a people pleaser, Tom didn’t like the fact he didn’t like him. Time and time again, he’d tried to prove just how much you meant to him and yet it seemed to fall on deaf ears. So three years down the line, it was safe to say he was bloody terrified. Heart-in-mouth sort of event. Tom did a lot of ‘terrifying things’: talking to massive studio heads; going on stage with thousands of people screaming; jumping out a plane even.
But no, a single conversation with your dad had his adrenaline going like nobodies business. Asking to marry you.
“You going to just stand their gawking? I hope the moviestar doesn’t make my Y/n do all the housework?”
“No sir I-of course I don’t” Stammering his way through with wide eyes, Tom practically leapt across the kitchen to the opposite side of the dishwasher to your dad. Secretly your Dad was chuckling away to himself, taking absolute delight in how terrified the ‘movie star’ was of him, but managed to keep a steely outershell. In silence, the two uunloaded the dishwasher, Tom desperately racking his brains for conversation starters.
This is what he did for a living, learnt the speech he’d spent hours preparing, then retell it. Why then, was Tom having such an issue with the script he’d arguable practiced the most? Deciding he needed a buffer, Tom went to the safe space of small talk.
“So how was the pub? Y/n said you were meeting some old friends?”
“Watched the match, bloody awful game and Wilks was crap, I don’t know why he even started.” Now this football talk was something Tom felt safe in. He had learnt as much as he could about your dads team - just so there was some mutual conversation.
“Yeh tell me about it, I caught the last half. Though the ref made so bad decisions too, that penalty never really was VAR or not.”
“Thats the most respectable thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
The next couple of minutes were spent with both men raving fanatically, letting all their anger out on the pretty subpar game this afternoon. In fact, Tom swore your dad actually laughed along with him at one point. Admittedly he’d caught himself almost immediately- but for two seconds, he had cracked it.
With the last mug placed in the cabinet, Tom was quite frankly shocked at what your dad said next. He had presumed that since it was late and everyone else was in bed, Y/d/n wouldn’t want quality time with his daughters boyfriend.
“You fancy a nightcap son?”
He’d never called Tom that either. Frankly, you dad preferred the nickname ‘moviestar’ because he knew it infuriated Tom. Made the tips of his ears flush bright red, that was Toms tell - one that your dad had noticed too early on.
Jerkily Tom nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he followed the elder man to the sitting room - where he kept the scotch glasses and bottle. No sooner had the drinks been poured, that Tom practically exploded with his thoughts.
“Mr Y/l/n-sorry I mean Y/d/n I-I um I needed to ask you something.” All he got was a long sigh and a nod, encouraging him to continue. “I-uhm….”Tom scoffed, clearing his throat because all of a sudden it felt like he hadnt had a drink in 10 hours, mouth completely dry.
“Well first off-and all respect. I know I don’t have to ask you. Y/n is the most independent and strong woman and we aren’t living in the 1950s. But, well but she loves you alot.” Tom stressed that last point especially, looking up to your dads poker face. It put him off for moment.
It was just how grumpy he looked, it was bloody terrifying. Taking a big gulp of the malty liquid, Tom steeled himself once again. “ And she respects you, your opinion always matters and I’d never come between that. And Y/n, she likes her traditions right? Like the stupid hat game you all play at Christmas dinner which makes no sense to me? Or the puzzle that you don’t start till everyone’s pretty drunk and tired at 3 o’clock in the morning on christmas? So that is… uhm thats why I’m asking you.”
Again all Tom was met with was a stern gaze, once again taking another generous sip of the scotch.
“Look I know you have your doubts about me- “ That got a response, a snort of agreement from your dad as if saying ‘you think’.
“But-but I really love your daughter. She’s my whole world and I can’t imagine being without her. And I know my lifestyle probably doesn’t fit with how you imagined your daughter to have. I mean-I’m not always at home and I’m away for months but- but…. look.” Tom sighed, shifting awkwardly on the sofa to directly face your dads armchair. “When I’m homesick and tired and grouchy from filming and I get back to the hotel I facetime Y/n. Everyday. And just seeing her smile, you-you know, the really soft small one that makes her dimples pop out? One look at that smile and everythings fine. Because all I’m thinking about is seeing that smile for the rest of my life. When she finds out she’s pregnant with our kid, when we’re taking them to college. I mean even when we’re 80 and probably sick of each other- she’ll still have that little smile that puts me into this sort of stupor. I just- I love her. And I’d do anything for her, I always will, I promise you that. So-so” With a shaky breath, Tom delivered his hitline.
“This is me just letting you know that I’m going to ask her to marry me and- I really hope she says yes.”
Tom was almost out of breath, and the breath he did have was shaky, looking up desperately at the older man across from him. He watched with wide eyes as your Dad placed his glass back on the drinks table with a clink, before leaning forward and standing up from the chair. He groaned slitghtly at the movement (his knees werent what they used to be) and took the two steps forward to be stood right infront of Tom’s seat. In that moment, Tom honestly thought he was getting a punch to the jaw at the very least. Afterall, he had just pretty much demanded that he were to propose to you.
As he braced for impact, tensing all his muscles, instead what he felt was a light pat to his right shoulder. Tom trailed his eyes up your dads figure to see what he thought was a gentle smile on his face too. Though he hadn’t ever seen your Dad smile at him before, so couldn’t say for certainty.
“You’re a good kid Tom, and you make Y/n very happy. Just pull yourself together when you ask her alright son? Didn’t think moviestars got stage fright.” And with that, your dad turned his back, heading toward the doorway that lead to the stairs to the bedrooms. Stunned, it took a moment or two before Tom processed - long enough that he had to leap up and call your dads name to get him to halt in the hallway.
“So is that a yes? You’re giving me permssion?”
“Oh Tom….” Your dad sighed in the lowlight of the hallway, in a more muted voice - now they were closer to the bedrooms where both you and your mum were sleeping peacefully. “ You already said, Y/n is strong and fiercely independent. I don’t control her, heck I don’t think she’s ever listened to me and never will. But…. for the record, I hope she says yes too and… I know she will.”
Scoffing in excitement, Tom combed a hand through his scalp, feeling such a wave of relief it was almost indescribable as your dad turned and trudged up the stairs. Once he heard the door of your parents bedroom close, he couldn’t help himself. He ran back into the kitchen, where he preceded to do an excited jumpy dance thing.
Because it meant a lot. To have your dads approval, to have your dads support. That meant the world. Not only for the sake of proposing but also, everything Tom said was true. He wanted to build a family with you - which meant that man was going to be the grandparents to your kids one day. That man had helped to craft you into the person you were today - his ‘person’. His perfect angelic, sweet woman.
Whenever he felt this excited, this happy, this elated - theres only one person he wants to be with. So, after turning all the lights off and checking the doors were locked (with a very obvious spring in his step) he then hopped up the stairs. Tiptoeing around, he got ready for bed in no time, before getting to the highlight of each evening.
Delicately he crawled into bed, sliding under the covers, so as to not disturb you. Naturally though, feeling the bed dip made you turnover- hooking your legs round his and resting your head on his chest. Tom chuckled quietly at your cuteness, stroking your cheek lightly with his thumb. It was enough to rouse you awake, enough to make you acutely aware of the thundering sound from his chest. With tired eyes, you propped your chin on his breastbone looking up at him with concern.
“You alright T? Hearts really racing.” He only replied with this loopy lovesick grin, his right hand coming to cup your cheek.
“Go back to sleep darling, I’m okay.” He did look okay, but he was almost too smiley and even with a foggy sleepy brain, you were still suspicious.
“Whats going on, you’re being weird?”
“Nothing…. your dad and me just had a chat… He called me son.” That shocked you too - clearly the conversation you’d had with him about being nicer to Tom had rubbed off.
“He did?”
“He did…. you are beautiful you know?” Now he was definitely being weird. You furrowed your eyebrows, as if trying to read his mind because something odd was going on in there.
“Now you’re just being creepy. What’s up?”
Tom just leant forward to kiss your forehead, then pulled you down onto his chest.
“I just love your family and I love you, you know that?”
“Are you trying to get into my pants? Because my parents are literally in the next room.”
“Oh shut up and kiss me.”
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