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themotherofhorses · 2 days

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simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries.

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission?

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in.

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life.

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it.

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?”

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness.

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing.

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom.

“Loved him so bloody much.”

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot.

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?”

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…”

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside.

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.”

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest.

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

#vic writes 🧸#call of duty #cod mw #cod ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x fem!reader

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 day

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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”

You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.

CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”

“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”

“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”

“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”

Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.

“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.

Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”

Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”

“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”

“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”

“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”

“--most of the time.”

You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.

It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.

You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.

The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.

“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”

The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.

As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.

“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”

“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”

Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”

You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”

“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”

“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”

Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”

There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.

You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.

“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”

“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”

He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”

“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”

You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”

“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.

“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”

You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”

Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”

He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”

You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.

He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.

However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.

“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.

“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”

“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.

“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.

“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”

“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.

“No,” you said firmly.

“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”

“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”

Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”

“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”

A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.

“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.

“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.

“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”

“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.”

All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.

“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”

“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”

You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.

“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.

Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”

“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”

This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”

And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”

“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”

“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”

“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”

Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.

“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”

He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”

Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…

This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.

By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.

Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”

“Die.”

Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”

“Please die.”

“That’s my girl.”

Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”

The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.

Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.

“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.

The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”

“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”

“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”

You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.

Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.

“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.

“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”

Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”

“But I��m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.

“I’m hurt. Truly.”

You snickered. “Sure.”

“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”

“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.

“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”

“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”

“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”

“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”

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intoanotherworld23 · 3 days

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Trying New Things

Summary: Harry wanted to try some new things in the bedroom, and you aren’t exactly complaining when he awakens the wild animal in you

Pairing: Reader X Harry Styles

Warnings: NSFW MATURE CONTENT, there is smut, sex, unprotected sex, use of toy, sex toy, mild choking, dirty talk, minor fingering

A/N: On my old account I used to write so much about Harry, and I would obsess over him non stop, so I figured I would write for him again as well! Let me know what you guys think and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO

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“Just how I wanted you princess.” Harry praised as he watched your body against his.

Laying on your side with Harry behind you as he was holding your leg in the air. Your arm gripping his thigh hard as you felt him going in and out of you. His arm underneath your head giving it something to rest on.

Feeling every thrust pushing in and pulling up driving up a rhythmic beat. Loving the thickness of his cock stretching out your inner walls. He was guiding you to the edge of pleasure. Feeling him pulsing inside of you both of you pushing each other into a frenzy.

"Oh fuck." You cried out as he slide his cock easily in and out of you.

"You are absolutely soaked." The sounds of your wetness echoing around the room.

He was breathing heavily into your neck as he continued to pump his cock inside of you. Inhaling your scent of need and desire like it was the worlds sweetest smell. You felt so incredibly full, and you didn't know how you were going to take anymore.

"That feel good princess?"

"Mhm." Nodding your head unable to find the words to speak.

"Aw did you forget how to speak?" His tone condescending.

The scruff of his stubble on his jaw was scratching against your neck as he whispered dirty things in your ear. Your head thrown back so he had easy access to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the skin. Your eyes closed in pure ecstasy you didn't want this feeling to end.

You could feel the juices from your pussy slopping against your thighs every time he drilled into you. Your ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis with each movement he made. Your pussy making a squishing sound that made you feel flustered.

"Hold on." He mumbled against your ear as he stopped thrusting inside of you to reach into his drawer digging something out.

You whispered for him to continue having been close to your orgasm you didn't want to lose it. Whining when he was taking a little longer than you would have liked.

Looking over quickly to see what he was doing then leaning your head back down. Feeling a cold object touch your wet folds, and then a high vibration buzzing against your clit making you squeal.

"Shit just like that Harry." You moaned out your walls clenching around him.

Harry has always talked about using a toy on you during sex. He just never expressed when he wanted to do that. Now here he was deep inside of you while rubbing a vibrator against you.

"I can feel you squeezing my cock darling."

Lifting his leg up even higher so he could get in a deeper angle. His cock slamming into your sweet spot making you see stars. Sweat was forming around your back and forehead. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours making your cheeks heat up.

Both your bodies rocking back and forth clashing into each other. The bed was shaking underneath you hearing then creak from the bed springs. If he kept going like this you were worried he was going to break the bed.

"God you drive me so fucking crazy." Growling in your ear as he nipped at it.

He moved the toy around your clit harder and harder. That fire was forming in the pit of your stomach and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Your legs were shaking feeling yourself getting closer to release.

"Stretching this tight cunt out."

"Harry." Whining pathetically.

"I know baby I know I'm gonna get you there."

Not even knowing what to do with your hands either having them on his body, or in your hair. At one point while his one hand was moving the toy against you, his arm that was underneath you moved slightly. His hand reaching up to grab you around your neck lightly choking you.

A smile appearing on your face making him rut into you even harder. He loved seeing you like this and what a desperate wild animal you were becoming. He's never wrapped a hand around your throat, but he was just living in the moment.

Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat so you could still breathe. It was overstimulating but absolute fucking bliss. Harry could see it written across your face, and he wanted to keep that image in his head.

"Fuck you look so good like this princess."

Both your bodies were rocking back and forth together in unison. The smell of sex and sweat was filling your nostrils. Moans and groans echoing across the room. Harry was straining himself waiting for you to reach that sweet release.

If there was one thing he loved the most about this it was the feeling of you cumming around him. To know he had that power against you made him feel like he was on top of the world.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum Harry." You whined pushing your head back.

"That's a good girl for me."

Harry groaning as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock. Your hips began to move in the rhythm of his cock. Still continuing to use the toy against you egging you on. Stopping for a quick minute, before his wrists would start snapping the toy against your clit and folds.

Your breathing was becoming heavier by the minute. His hand using the toy kept the tip of it against your clit pressing down harder so your back was arching against Harry. He was always one to tease you, and bring you to tears when it came to sex.

"Cum all over my cock sweetheart."

That was all it took before you felt your toes curling in the air, and you pussy squeezing him so tightly as you came around him. The pit of your stomach coiling as a wave of warmth rushed over your body.

"Oh fuck I'm there with you my sweet girl." He warned you through his teeth.

Feeling your body drop dead slumped against him as he pumped into you a couple more times. Groaning loudly as his cock twitched inside of you before squirting his warm load into you. The both of you out of breath after your kinky lovemaking.

Leaning his head forward so his forehead was pressed up against your shoulder. Giving you little tender kisses his hand running circles on your thighs in a soothing way. Feeling your eyes becoming heavier as you strained to keep them open.

There was no way your body was going to be able to move. Your legs felt like cooked noodles, and your hands were lightly trembling. It was an intense feeling almost like a rush of excitement or adrenaline.

"I hope I didn't hurt you." His soft hands touching your neck.

"No it was absolutely perfect Harry." Confessing as you looked away feeling slightly embarrassed for liking it so much.

"Good cause we are definitely doing that again."

“Like right now?” Eyes widening already feeling your thighs clenching together at the thought of taking him again.

His hand reaching down between your legs to your raw cunt. Gasping as he gently pushed a thick finger inside of you. Your inner walls spreading open around it as you selfishly lifted your hips it. Feeling like you didn't know if you'd be able to handle anymore, but Harry knew you could.

Harry grinning as he watched the expression on your face. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He wasn't exactly done with you yet, and had more in store for you.

"Get ready for a long night princess."

#Harry styles #Harry styles smut #Harry styles fanfic #Harry styles imagines #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic

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obaex · 10 hours

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the bet - jj maybank or rafe cameron

summary: two guys have their eye on you and when kiara baits you into a bet, it quickly becomes clear how your night will end.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this fic has two alternate endings for you to to choose from for either rafe or jj (or both! live your life! dream your dreams! lord knows i'm incapable of choosing, hence, this fic!) ♡

The sun danced between the fronds of the palm trees above you, warming your cheeks and the slow smile on your face as you swayed back and forth in the hammock in John B's backyard. You felt JJ's warm, calloused hands running up your bare leg and you were sure your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red when you felt his fingers toy with the frayed hem of your denim cutoffs, sending goosebumps across your body despite the stifling heat of the summer day.

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you replayed the way the two of you had been relentlessly flirting over the last few weeks. What had started innocently enough: his chin resting on your shoulder as you read, his hand at your lower back when you were out together, had quickly escalated to his smoldering gaze following you during parties, him grasping your hips firmly and pressing his body against yours as he snuck by you in the kitchen, leaning down just far enough to whisper "'scuse me" as he went by. The catch? It hadn't gone any further than that, than stolen looks and eager, wandering hands; something you were keenly aware of as you felt his fingers on your thigh and your eyes fluttered open to catch his baby blues drinking you in just as your friends began chatting nearby about the bonfire that night.

Within a few hours you were at Tanneyhill with Sarah getting ready, intent on making sure you looked absolutely perfect. Between the billowing steam of her shower and the heat of her blowdryer, curling iron and straightener, the humidity in her bathroom had become a threat to your hair and makeup, so you carried your makeup bag into Rafe's bathroom. You were deeply focused on your mascara when you heard a muffled voice and turned to see Rafe pushing the door open as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"RC?" you said with a laugh in your voice as you tried to get his attention.

"Geezus! What the hell are you doing in here?" he asked, looking you up and down.

You took in his shirtless form, from his incredibly large biceps to his toned abs as your mouth curved into a smile and you leaned against the counter, eyeing him unabashedly. "Sarah said it was okay for me to use your bathroom, she steamed up her mirror."

He smirked at you, basking in the way you were checking him out and subtly puffed his chest out, flexing his muscles as he returned the favor, taking in the way your short sundress accentuated every dip and curve of your body, the way your makeup highlighted your perfect features from your sparkling eyes to your glossed lips.

"You goin’ with her tonight?" he asked. "Please tell me you're not spending the night with those stupid pogues."

You rolled your eyes at that and turned around to continue with your makeup, like it wasn't his bathroom you were using in the first place. You leaned precariously over his counter to get closer to the mirror, your dress riding up considerably. "They're not bad people" you said simply.

Rafe's eyes quickly darted from the newly exposed skin of your tan legs to your face in the mirror. "Not bad people?" he said, exasperated. "Kiara is minutes away from being written out of her own trust fund, John B is essentially homeless and don't even get me started on Maybank, that kid is a walking liability."

You caught his eye in the mirror at the mention of JJ before pushing your mascara back in the tube and turning to face him. "Aww RC, you really care about me, huh?" you teased, using the nickname you'd had for him for as long as you could remember, one that he absolutely adored (a fact he would deny to anyone who asked him).

He watched you gather your things, sad to see you leave. "You're better than all that" he said. "And you know it."

"M'just having a little fun" you replied, winking as you brushed past him. "See you there?"

He pushed his tongue into his cheek, nodding with a hint of frustration at how you were shrugging him off, at the thought of you spending time anywhere near those lowlifes.

"Nice dress" he shouted after you as you left his room, and you threw a hand over your head to wave at him in acknowledgement.

The bonfire was as fun as you could remember; the fizz of your fruity seltzer, the salty air coming off the ocean, the smell of the firewood and the flickering light it cast made it feel like anything could happen. You were sitting with Kiara and Sarah, but had caught JJ's eye a few times across the crowd; in fact, you were just thinking about walking over to him when Kiara broke the silence.

"You're basically one of us now" she said through a hazy smile.

"Yeah?" you replied, smiling, your cheeks warming at the sentiment.

"Yeah, but you need to loosen up a bit, you're radiating kook right now" she said, offering you her joint, which you politely declined.

She shook her head at you as she took a hit. "You need to be more adventurous."

"I'm plenty adventurous!" you argued.

"Wanna bet?" she said, goading you on.

You continued to argue amiably back and forth, unaware that Rafe was lingering nearby, listening intently to your conversation. He hated that you were here with the pogues, he knew nights like this where everyone was together were prime for them to start some stupid shit that he didn't want you in the middle of. Even from here he could hear Carrera egging you on, offering you drugs and he was about to step in when the next sentence out of her mouth made him pause.

"I bet you $50 you won't kiss the next person who fills their beer at the keg" she said, nodding in that general direction. "And I don't mean a peck on the lips, I mean full on macking."

"Deal" you said, without a moment's hesitation, perhaps a bit more confidently than you felt.

Kiara's eyebrows raised in surprise and Rafe choked on his beer as he watched the three of you clink your drinks together.

It was only a matter of moments. The keg was the most popular place to be tonight. You scanned the crowd nervously, eyes flickering over geeky tourons with horrible sunburn and cringing until your gaze landed on John B and JJ walking purposefully through the crowd, right towards the keg and your heart leapt in your chest. They were talking animatedly about something, joking around with one another as John B reached absentmindedly for the tap.

"Oh shit" Kiara mumbled as Sarah visibly tensed beside you.

But at the last minute, JJ grabbed the spout from him and began to fill his cup.

: ̗̀ This fic has two possible endings: one with JJ, and one with Rafe. From here, you choose! Keep scrolling to see Rafe's ending ♡

JJ MAYBANK

You could feel your heartbeat in your palms as Kiara nudged you forward. After a moment you began walking towards the keg, edging purposefully in and out of the crowd until suddenly you were in front of JJ, and it was like time stood still.

He glanced up at you, a smirk lingering on his lips from his conversation with John B and he had only a moment to drink you in greedily from head to toe before you stepped forward and grasped the front of his cutoff tee, pulling his face down to your own.

Your lips found his and despite the frantic energy, they met softly as he let out a muffled mumble in surprise, weeks of dreaming about what you would taste like coming true. It didn't take him more than a second before he dropped his half-full cup of beer in the sand, completely forgotten as one of his arms wound around your waist and the other came to grasp the side of your face, pressing into you in earnest, sending your stomach into a summersault. You released his shirt only enough to wind your arms around his neck and he nearly lifted you off the ground with his urgency.

You tried to pull back, to catch your breath, to explain, but he wouldn't let you go. "Mmhm" he mumbled in refusal, doubling down his efforts, grasping you firmly as he nipped your bottom lip and then his tongue slid into your mouth.

"Oh, shit!" John B said, laughing and you could hear Kiara and Sarah cheering in the background, but it all faded out as your heart thundered in your chest. Your whole body was electric with the feeling of his kiss, like fireworks in your veins. You were nearly shaking with adrenaline, with the overwhelming sense of his proximity, your chest heaving against his, when he finally pulled away, his blue eyes twinkling at you, with a soul-crushing smile on his face, his eyes searching your lips hungrily before they flitted over your shoulder.

"Can I help you, Cameron?"

You spun around in JJ's arms to see Rafe standing next to the keg, staring straight at you with a fiery glare so fierce it made your cheeks heat.

You were utterly confused.

He wasn't moving to fill up his beer, and you could see that his cup was full from where you were standing. But if he wasn't here for the beer... Had he heard your bet with Kiara? He did have a habit of staying near you during parties. He was breathing heavily, like he'd run here... wait... Did he want to kiss you? Your eyes met his and you immediately had your answer as your heart dropped into your stomach. Your grip on JJ loosened just a bit, but his warm hands wouldn't let you go, if anything he held you tighter.

"Take a picture, buddy, it'll last longer" he snapped at Rafe.

Rafe took one more look at you and then brushed past you.

Well, shit you thought.

RAFE CAMERON

You were on your feet, pushing your way through the crowd, your mind clouded with anticipation and the fruity buzz of your seltzer when you felt a firm hand on your upper arm and you turned to see Rafe looking... angry? You were confused as he was never ever angry with you despite the way he treated other people. He was breathing heavily like he'd run to catch up with you and he hardly met your eyes before his hand moved gently down your arm, his large fingers wound through your own, and he began pulling you behind him, away from the party and bright lights towards the parked cars.

"Can I help you, RC?" you asked impatiently as you tugged at his hand. "M'a little busy--" you started to say before he stopped walking so abruptly you nearly crashed into him. He spun and pulled you into his grasp, never releasing your hand as the other cupped your cheek, the momentum pulling you within inches of each other.

His lips were close enough for you to feel them, but he didn't move to kiss you, instead you could feel his warm breath on your face, could smell his mint gum, smell him, clean like citrus with just a hint of sweat that was making your head spin on its axis. You ran your hand up his arm, vividly recalling every curve of his body from earlier, your breath catching at the feeling of his hard muscles beneath his fitted shirt.

He began walking you backwards, eyes never leaving yours, boring into you until you met the cool exterior of his truck with your back, which he pushed you against gently, caging you in. His pupils were blown wide and he bit his bottom lip as his eyes traced your face and lips.

"Still up for a little fun?" he murmured, his hand moving to roam your body as your breath hitched.

You struggled to find your words at the feeling of his touch, all you could do was nod and he smiled, leaning in and lingering there to tease you, the anticipation making you squirm ever so slightly as you tried to move closer to him, until he relented, pressing his lips to yours with perfect passion, like he was devouring you, as he pressed you into his truck hard enough for it to make a sound. You had no business reacting the way you did as you tried to muffle a moan against his lips and failed miserably, at once happy for the discretion of being so far away from prying eyes. You could feel him smile against you as his hands moved to your thighs, picking you up and letting your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue found yours. You wound your arms around his neck, desperately trying to pull him closer to you, your fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

"Rafe" you whispered in a brief reprieve, in an attempt to get air.

There it is, he thought. Not his nickname, but his full name coming from your perfectly plump lips that were swollen from him. He rested his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling, before he moved to set you down.

You had to physically bite your lip to keep from whining, not understanding why he would stop. Had this all gone way too far way too fast? you thought, all the while refusing to let go of him. He was reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet, flipping through a thick wad of bills before pulling out a $50, folding it in his fingers and handing it to you as he shoved the rest and his wallet back in his pocket.

"What?--" you started to ask.

"Go tell Carrera you aren't going to be kissing random strangers or pogues for the foreseeable future, yeah?"

You couldn't hold back the smile on your face as you looked up at him and reached for the bill.

"Yeah?" you said back - Are you saying what I think you're saying?

"Yes" he said resolutely, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek, your jawline, to the tender skin on your neck where he began sucking as he pushed you backwards again, ensuring there would be a bruise big enough and dark enough for everyone to see. You squirmed against him, eyelids fluttering shut until you heard a voice calling your name that had them flying open as you pulled yourself upright.

"JJ?" you said.

Rafe pulled back and turned around and you both saw JJ jogging towards you before he slowed to a stop. He took in your hand lingering on Rafe, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder, your mussed hair, smudged lip gloss and the dark bruise forming on your neck.

Rafe pulled you into his chest and you could feel him tense against you as he squeezed you firmly.

JJ looked at you, dumbfounded, before he swallowed. He was normally so quick with a snarky comment and right now you wished for anything that would break this awful silence. He looked at you and Rafe again, pulling his hat off and running his hand through his hair before muttering, "Sarah and Kie are looking for you.”

Well, shit you thought.

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @xxbimbobunnyxx, @belle101200, @ihe4rttwd

#rafe cameron #jj maybank #obx rafe cameron #obx jj maybank #outerbanks rafe #jj outer banks #rafe obx #jj obx #rafe outer banks #jj obx imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj

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becauseimanicequeen · 3 days

Text

RANDOM THOUGHTS: Unknown ep. 11

I’m just going into this episode wanting Qian and Yuan’s first kiss. That’s it. That’s all. Now, hit me with it!

Qian grabbed Yuan’s wrist. It was all the confirmation Yuan needed. I have a feeling that he will be even bolder now than what we’ve seen so far. And I love it.

Well, damn! That went from 0-100kph really fast. Yuan was starving, and I don’t blame him. He’s been starving for a loooong time. Even dreaming about it at night, it seems.

I love that Qian took the first step with the kiss. Yuan was straightforward and honest about his feelings and what he wanted (to be more than a brother, to be someone Qian could rely on, to be with Qian for the rest of his life, etc.). But Qian took the first step with the kiss. He’s finally “in his feelings” rather than trying to think it through or analyze it.

One thing I have to say I didn’t quite like about this scene, though, was the editing. I don’t mind the flashbacks (as in the flashbacks of some of their past moments) because it shows their story and adds emotional weight to the whole scene. I love that. But the buildup wasn’t there since the sequence of Yuan making his feelings clear and the kiss was chopped up and strewn here and there. For me, it would’ve been much more effective if it happened in chronological order (or if the confrontation from the previous scene had been in the same episode). The editing here fell a bit flat for me and it’s such a shame considering the potential it had of being an incredible climax of the whole series, that they were finally together. Ahhh, I don’t want to feel disappointed…

Look at them being cozy in bed! It’s Yuan’s neck kisses that do it for me…

Btw, this is probably the first time Qian has smiled when anyone has mentioned Lili and San Pang in the same sentence.

The way Yuan sneaked into his own room… lmfao!

The way I CACKLED because of Lili’s bonkers story.

A dating game? I’m getting Our Dating Sim flashbacks.

Here’s Qian, in the middle of a meeting at work, getting flashbacks of his night having sex with Yuan. 1. Absolutely understandable. 2. He’s completely whipped. So, again, understandable. 3. There’s no doubt he wants to have sex with Yuan again. And again. And again. So, once again, understandable.

The way he hit that figure and caught it before it hit the floor… Qian was clearly rattled by his daydream. And who can blame him? My legs would be shaking. (But this is not about me…)

So… The Doc and Le are fucking, right?

You know, Le is damn fine… when he doesn't look like a crazy person. Eh, who am I kidding? He’s sexy as hell when he looks like a crazy person. (I know, it’s a me-problem…)

OMG! Their date. The way I fucking laughed through the whole scene. Yuan accusing Qian of not being romantic, Qian proving the opposite, Qian’s reaction after the kiss, Long being funny as hell with the candle. Every moment was fucking golden! Excuse me as I rewind that a handful of times.

Of course, Qian’s trauma would come back up again at some point. It’s not like he’s dealt with it or been magically “healed”. I’m honestly wondering how the series will deal with his trauma (both the trauma around his childhood and his head trauma) considering there’s only half of this episode plus the next one left.

It doesn’t surprise me one bit that Qian went to the hospital by himself. I get that he doesn’t want to worry Yuan. But he isn’t even giving Yuan the chance to choose for himself.

Hitting yourself on the head won’t help…

It’s come to a point now that Qian has to tell Lili about his health. I mean, surgery seems to be the only option to get better, but the risks are too big to keep it secret.

Qian is talking as if he’s already set on dying. This is so unlike the fighter and survivor he used to be. And, of course, Yuan notices that something’s off.

Seriously, hasn’t Qian learned his lesson about not keeping something like this from Yuan?

I usually love miscommunicating (or non-communicating) characters because of the misunderstandings and drama it usually stirs up. And I love the misunderstandings and drama (in fiction, not real life, btw). BUT! This is riling me up. This is about Qian’s life. His health is in serious danger. Is it in line with his character? Yes, to a certain point. But how many times has he shown how important his family is to him? MANY! Practically the whole series so far. Why would he not want to prepare them for the possibility that he might not be around much longer? This isn’t the time to stay silent. This isn’t the time to avoid the topic. Come on, Qian. Don’t do this to Yuan. Or Lili.

Did you hear that, Qian? The Doc said to discuss it with your family.

The stress Qian is under has made him hide in an ally and start smoking again… If that blood clot in his head doesn’t kill him, the stress surely will.

Excuse me as I weep for a minute or two…

I only have one thing to say about that moment in the alley… Qian is so fucking lucky to have Yuan in his life. We’ve often talked about how lucky Yuan was that Qian found him (which is more than valid because he most likely wouldn’t have survived without Qian). But Qian is just as lucky to have Yuan in his life. Yuan single-handedly reignited the spark in Qian and brought the fighter in him back to life. And Qian needed that. He needed it to at least have a possibility to survive this.

I know I said I only wanted to mention one thing about that scene. But I have to mention Yuan biting Quan’s wrist as well, for the reason that I loved that detail. And because biting is my kind of kink. Not that this was kinky. But it does show that biting can prove a point at times.

Lili is so fucking sweet. And that hug at the end, between all three of them…

I really liked this episode, even though I felt disappointed with the editing at the beginning. But, they’re finally together and Qian has gotten his fighting spirit back.

Now there’s only one episode left and it feels bittersweet. I really don’t want this series to end…

#qots random thoughts #unknown #unknown the series #taiwanese ql #taiwanese bl #taiwanese series #my shit

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byler-invested · 2 days

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Hi! I absolutely agree with what you say in your reblog of that video! And since English is not my first language I wanted to ask, do you think that during the second recording when Will (presumably) says “to run”, “need to” is said in a deep voice that literally sounds like Vecna. Even on first listen, this kind of bass effect seemed strange to me and reminded too much of Vecna's voice. And now I could swear I hear the word “you” starting in Will’s voice, then “need to” in Vecna’s voice, and then again dramatically changing into Will’s voice saying “to run”. And I also think that where the author of the original post with that video has questions right before "do you hear me", I think that Will starts to say "do you" but his voice breaks off before he can say the whole sentence. Of course I'm just speculating and we may be wrong, but I was just interested to know what you think

Thank you for the ask! Don’t worry, it’s not my first language either. 🙆‍♀️

And yes you’re absolutely right, I did also hear that deep voice and I think it was Vecna. Even the rest of the voices (director, Will) sound kinda weird tbh, but I figured it was partially because of the method of sound recording in this footage. But to be frank I’m no expert in production, so it may very well be something entirely different.

Now, what I don’t really understand is why exactly would Vecna be repeating his exact words (“need to run” or whatever it is, I can’t remember it properly). I definitely found the entire sound recording exceedingly weird (but definitely interesting and powerful) and I bet it’s going to be an incredibly stressful, upsetting, frightening, etc etc and even disgusting scene— taking into account that by the end we seem to start hearing a disturbing and loud kind of buzzzzzz almost like a fly or other insect??? 🪰 (Did anyone else notice this???) And we know there were those fucking nasty and scary “demo-ants” 🐜 around, according to the written description of the leak, so maybe it does have something to do with that… 🤢 ewwwww….. that’s gonna fuck with me I just know it.

Yes I also thought about the possibility that Will’s voice seems to kinda be overlapping Vecna’s voice? Why and how on earth would that happen? 🫥 Some people were saying maybe he was getting possessed, fuck I just know I’m gonna be shitting my pants. 😂

I don’t know, everything is just so so weird about this leak. I haven’t yet thought this through properly, but I’m sure that more capable and methodical analysts will soon come up with more cohesive theories.

One of the biggest questions in my mind right now actually has to to with the described demo-ants. Apparently there’s a whole DnD creature that matches the leak’s description, I’ve seen pictures of it and it’s creepy as fuck. I’m very very curious to know what the hell that’s all about and why they would include it?? There has to be a reason/ meaning/ symbology within the story that justifies it.

Insects??? Why???

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #my post #st5 #st5 speculation #st5 spoilers #vecna #demoants #demo ants #demo-ants #st theory #st spoilers #st leaks #st5 theory #st5 production #st5 leaks #stranger things 5

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its-avalon-08 · 2 days

Note

Hey cutie!

I would love to read something about George! If its okay to you ofc…🫶🏼

Maybe you have some ideas..🙈

Thank you anyways!🫶🏼

hi lovely! george is my one my literal favs <3 i hope you enjoy this one, because i've always wanted to write one like this -

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

somewhere in the crowd there's you < 3

he wasn't your regular low effort boyfriend. george looked at y/n and saw what the rest of his life looked like. the angels sung from the heavens above and all felt right in the world. it was as if he had found his matching puzzle piece.

y/n wasn't your regular low effort girlfriend. she was in love with george the way that spiderman and mj were in love. she knew the pressure of the sport, the constant travel, the grueling training, but amidst it all, their connection remained a constant, a warm summer breeze in the hurricane of f1.

6:15 am, monaco

george stirred awake to the soft glow of dawn creeping through the curtains. as his eyes adjusted, he saw a thermos and a protein bar neatly placed on the nightstand beside a vase of the most beautiful daisies. a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. y/n. she knew mornings were a struggle before a race weekend, and having his favorite breakfast ready, without him even asking, was a small gesture with a giant impact.

1:30 pm, budapest

y/n sat nervously in the mercedes motorhome, fiddling with a worn silver necklace. the roar of engines from the qualifying session vibrated through the air. she closed her eyes, picturing george navigating the sharp turns of the hungering circuit. suddenly, the door creaked open and a sweaty, yet grinning george peeked in.

"just wanted to say that i promise i won't die and i'll come back home to you love," he whispered, leaning down for a quick kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her. "you better come back in one piece george otherwise it's not toto you'll be running from," she said with a teasing tone. she squeezed his hand three time conveying the magical words "i-love-you" as she always did before races because she knew he was anxious. he chuckled, squeezed her hand and disappeared into the crowd, anxious but aware that he had someone to go home to.

8:45 pm, singapore

the post-race celebrations were in full swing, the air thick with champagne and triumph. george, still buzzing from his podium finish, scanned the crowd. then, there she was, y/n, her smile the brightest beacon in the room. he excused himself, weaving through the throng of people, until he reached her.

"you were incredible," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride. she reached into her purse, pulling out a small, velvet pouch. inside, nestled on a bed of red velvet, was a custom-made silver charm – a miniature mercedes car. "to celebrate your win," she said, attaching it to his bracelet. it joined a collection of other charms – a tiny camera for her photography hobby, a guitar for his love of music – each a token of their shared journey.

later that night, tucked away in their hotel room, george noticed a travel-sized bottle of his favorite muscle relaxer placed on the bathroom counter. a hand-written note lay beside it: "for all your hard work, love. see you on the podium again soon." he smiled, a warmth spreading through him. it wasn't the grand gestures, the expensive gifts, but these small, thoughtful acts that spoke volumes about their love. a silent language spoken only by the two of them, a language that said, "somewhere in the crowd there's you, and that's all that matters."

2:00 am, london

being a biomedical engineer was a taxing job and y/n was an absolute perfectionist. george knew that, y/n knew that, blimey even their dog knew that! one night as george turned in their bed to pull y/n closer, he wasn't about to find her. sleepily dragging out in grey sweatpants and his classic shirtless look, he found her passed out over her laptop and a bunch of papers full of numbers and diagrams. he smiled gently at her calm figure and lifted her up effortlessly. holding her in bridal style, she cuddled closer to him wanting his body's warmth. he set her down into the bed, tying her hair loosely into a braid that y/n had taught him and set her glasses aside. pulling the covers over both of them, george kissed y/n's forehead, pulled her closer and let sleep take over.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment! (btw i couldn't find the original gif owner, so do let me know)

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home2venus · 2 days

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SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE

── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of freshly heartbroken jungkook genre/tags. pining, post-break up, (not so) unrequited love, incredibly whipped jungkook ─ this is jungkook's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐

Jeon Jungkook may have fucked up.

He’s not afraid to admit that, and neither is anyone else. Latto had cackled when he told her what happened, all broken up about being broken up with. She’s usually pretty cool about things, on his side, but she’s real with him too. The guys were kinder about it, but the general consensus was that Jungkook has maybe, definitely, fucked up.

So, it’s a messy situation, but it’s not impossible to fix. Jungkook’s a crafty guy, and he’s dedicated to everything he puts his mind to, so he’s sure that if he really tries, and really works hard he can fix this. He wants to fix it, desperately, because... well, because of everything. She’s everything.

She was everything.

He needs to fix it. He needs to fix them. He can fix it, he knows he—

“Should leave her alone, right?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, snapping out of his thoughts. He’s sitting at a barstool, head in his hands with his elbows resting on the counter. He looks over to Latto, supremely unimpressed.

“She doesn’t want you, baby,” Latto shrugs, leaning next to him, eyes scanning the dancefloor absently as though she’s not actively ruining Jungkook’s life, “Give her some space, at least, before you rocket back into shit.”

“I need her to know—”

“You need to not push her into filing a restraining order,” Latto insists, rolling her eyes fondly. Jungkook pouts slightly, and she pats him on the shoulder, already walking away from him. He watches her leave, a little miffed and a little resigned because Latto is probably, definitely right, but he doesn’t want her to be.

“Then what should I do?” He yells at an already halfway gone Latto.

“Go home?” Latto yells back, “Go to therapy?” She disappears into the crowd, but he can hear her laughing to herself.

So, Jungkook goes home. On the same train that he always does. At the same time as he always does. Jungkook, from the future, would like to claim that these factors make what happened next 100%, completely, absolutely, not his fault.

Jungkook steps on the train, emptier than usual but still bustling with people, and grabs the first empty seat he can find, sighing with relief as he just narrowly avoids standing in the shadow of a fairly gross looking businessman. He readjusts, stretching slightly as the train begins to move, and as he settles in his seat, he looks around the train and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Han So-hee is still as beautiful as the day they met, and still as devastating as the day she left.

“Um,” Jungkook says, and she rolls her eyes, beginning to stand.

“Excuse me,” So-hee starts to stand, looking to the people around her, “Do you want my s—”

The train shakes abrubtly, slamming her back into her seat, and she sighs, resigned and exhausted. She settles back into her seat, putting her earbuds back in with a pointed glare at him.

“Don’t say anything,” She bites out the words, like they’re painful, and they are painful, but more for Jungkook than her. Jungkook just nods, quiet and understanding. So-hee blinks, a little taken aback, but then she just rolls her eyes and returns back to her phone. Jungkook returns back to his too, but it’s absent, like he’s not fully there because he isn’t.

A different Jungkook wouldn’t have listened. He would’ve kept talking, pestered her into laughing and letting him back into her home, like he always did after arguments. But, current Jungkook knows he can’t do that anymore, that he did it one too many times, during an argument that was a little too serious, and now he can’t go back to her home, to what he always considered home, because he pushed her too far.

She gets off before him, because she always does. He can see the exact route she’ll take home in his head, memorized from nights where they stumbled back home together, drunk and giggly.

“I love you,” Jungkook says. He’s not sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to say it.

Through the departing train’s window, he watches her glance backward at him, before disappearing off the platform as a whole, into the streets of the city where she lives without him.

Jungkook goes back to his apartment, and he realizes that he can’t live without her. Jungkook also realizes that she can live without him, that she doesn’t need him in the same way, and he wants to let her have that. He wants to try again, but he doesn’t want her to hate him.

So, Jungkook resolves to let her leave.

Unfortunately, nothing is ever that easy. But, Jungkook would like to say that it’s not his fault.

Jungkook takes the same train he did when he was with her, because that’s the train he’s always taken, so he sees her constantly. Okay, whatever, that’s fine.

But, Jungkook goes to the same restaurants that he used to go to in university, back when him and So-hee would spend weekends and nights finding new, exciting places to eat, because he always goes to the restaurants. So-hee goes to them too, because she found them with him and has all the rights too, so he sees her at the restaurants and it’s hard to explain to every old woman behind the counter that no, they aren’t together anymore and haha, yeah, it’s all good, he just misses her more than he thinks he would miss his own lungs in his chest. So, he just... doesn’t tell them, and neither does she, and everyone still thinks they’re in love, so sometimes they sit across from each other in a restaurant booth to avoid any questions.

For practicality’s sake.

Um. Anyways.

He sees her at the laundromat, and at this point, he misses her like the Earth would miss the Sun if it imploded in the sky. She’s in an old blue denim jacket from years ago, with her hair loose around her shoulders and messy as she slams around a laundry basket, clearly sick of him. He can’t help himself from looking though, swinging his legs atop his own washing machine, watching her load her clothes into the machine. His eyes catch on a faded sweatshirt he used to have years ago, his university logo faded and worn on the front of it, and he immediately averts his eyes. If she knows that he knows, she’ll give it back, because she’ll be embarrassed. The sweatshirt is proof he’s still something to her, he’s still useful, so if she gives it back, it’s one less sign that she doesn’t actually loathe him. He wants her to keep it, so he doesn’t say anything, not until the room starts to flood and they’re pushing at the ceiling.

I love you, he almost says when they make it out, and she starts on her way home, still soaked and angry.

I love you, he almost says when he texts her about the police assuming her laundry was his, because his wallet had still been in her laundry basket.

I love you, he almost says when she opens the door and lets him, and the laundry but mostly him, into her apartment and offers him coffee on instinct.

Her cats brush at his hands and he coos at them like everything is normal, and she asks him about Jimin and work and if he could talk to the others about bringing her neice into the studio, and when he agrees, she says that she literally loves him, and Jungkook shatters.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, and So-hee doesn’t say it back, but she smiles a little bit, and lets him leave on his own, without slamming the door behind him.

Things aren’t perfect, she doesn’t run back to him with open arms and beg to be married, but when he enters the place they used to study late into the night, begging the shop owner for just one more ramen bowl and a few more minutes, she takes her bag off the opposite seat, and doesn’t glare at him when he accidentally mumbles to himself too loud while working.

It’s not perfect, but it’s close, and missing her when she’s close is better than missing her when she’s far. At least she’s still in reach, and at least she still lets him look at her.

“I love you,” He says, without even thinking about it, and she doesn’t even look up.

“Yeah, yeah,” She says, the first aknowledgement since she broke up with him months ago, “Have you considered putting that energy into a job?”

“You’re better than a job,” Jungkook says, teasing but light, like she’ll shutter away if it’s not just a graze of a joke. She gives him a look, and he thinks shit, because oh no, oh god, he’s fucked it all up again and he—

“I’m better than everything,” She says back, a small smile playing on her face, a clear indication of her joke, “Get a better excuse.”

Jungkook misses her more than anything. Her eyes, and her hair, and her hands, and her cats, and her food, and her brain, but more than anything, he misses the way she makes him laugh out of nowhere.

He laughs, because of course he does, loud and disruptive, and it turns into choking giggles when the old ladies nearby shush him loudly. His eyes are shut, blinking rapidly to get away his tears, even though it really wasn’t that funny. It’s a mix of shock, and delight, and nostalgia making him inconsolably laugh, but his distraction stops him from noticing the way she grins fondly.It’s not an I love you, but it’s close, and he missed it. He missed everything about her. All he wants to do is get it back, and actually see it, see her, again.

#jungkook #seven jungkook #jeon jungkook #han so hee #jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #han so-hee #seven #༄˖°🪐 writes

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