#every time a family member comes and fucking bothers me i want to hiss at them like a feral cat

[ralexsol]

need me a sanders sides episode about dealing with fucking stress

#sanders sides #whatsupray? #i am Going Through it atm #every time a family member comes and fucking bothers me i want to hiss at them like a feral cat #LEAVE ME ALONE I ONLY HAVE SO LITTLE PRECIOUS TIME TO MY FUCKING SELF #i watched lntao to destress but none of the other sanders sides episodes are as good as it is at destressing me #it's the one i go back to the most

[mackenzielovee]

Hi, I loved crazy love. Literally I become obsessed, so I was wondering if you could write something about them when they are moving to their new apartment near to college and both of their families are helping them to have everything in order, but Rafe only want them to leave to be all alone with you in their new home. Maybe a little bit of smut?

a/n: this idea had my heart bc i'd really been wanting to write something like this ;) i hope you enjoy! thanks so much for the request!

Warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of planned pregnancy, discussion of sex

crazy love masterlist

my writing

our home: crazy love blurb - rafe cameron

"No, no a little to the left. Ward, are you listening to me?"

You sigh as you set the very last box down on the kitchen counter, stealing a glance at Rafe, who is sitting on your new couch. His head is in his hands as he listens to his parents bicker back and forth, trying to hang up the painting they had bought the two of you. Rose had gushed over it when she bought it, telling you it would match the rest of your decor perfectly.

"Of course, darling. You're talking loud enough," Ward gripes, shifting the painting to the left as Rose demands.

"Oh, come on, now. Back over to the right-"

"It's straight!" Rafe raises his voice, standing up from the couch.

You inhale sharply and step into the living room of your new apartment, wrapping an arm around him to try and calm him down. Ever since his parents and Wheezie arrived with the moving truck to help you both, he's been on edge. When your parents showed up with Macy, you thought he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Actually, I think it might just be straight," Rose nods, "Good eye, Rafe."

"Thanks so much," he remarks sarcastically.

"Hey," you whisper to him, trying to tell him to quit being mean to his step-mom, "They're here to help, remember?"

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I could do this shit myself."

"Because you're such a handy man?" you snort.

Rafe clenches his jaw as he looks down at you, but can't help the smirk on his face. He pulls you closer to him, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Where did Macy and Wheezie go? They should start on those kitchen boxes," Rose tells Ward, stepping away from her husband to look for them.

"We can handle the kitchen boxes," Rafe tells her.

"Y/N?" Rose looks to you for a final answer.

You glance up at Rafe only for a second, noting the look on his face, then nod your head in agreement.

"I like the kitchen organized a certain way, anyway," you tell her with a smile.

She nods her head, "All right. Ward and I can start on your sheets-"

"Y/N's parents are taking care of that," Rafe informs her.

Wheezie and Macy come tumbling into the front door, running past all of you and into your bedroom with your parents.

"What the hell are those two up to?" Ward questions.

Wheezie and Macy have become as thick as thieves, the best of friends, over the summer. One day, you'd shown up at Rafe's only to find your sister in her kitchen with Wheezie, baking away. Ever since then, you and Rafe have had to be extra quiet upstairs.

Rose and Ward step toward your bedroom as well, which is down a small hallway just off the kitchen. Rafe grabs your hand and yanks you with him, following the crowd of people.

"Can everyone get out of our bedroom, please?" Rafe grumbles, standing behind his father and watching your parents finish up making your bed.

Your parents had not been crazy about you and Rafe living together right as you both make the transition to college. You had cried, begged, threatened to not go to school, and even dragged Rafe over for a family dinner so all of you could talk the situation out. You'd never seen Rafe's face so red as the night he had to sit at a dinner table and discuss with your father how the two of you would be sleeping in the same bed.

When your parents found out that the Camerons would be financing your rent bill, however, the living situation had changed. Your parents hadn't realized how expensive dorm living is, and the thought of not having to pay for housing on top of tuition sounded like a dream come true.

Which is how you land in your new, empty kitchen, trying to hold Rafe back from killing every family member the two of you currently have within arms reach.

"It's quarter to three," your dad tells your mother over your bed.

"Macy," your mom speaks, "Get your stuff, honey. We have to get going."

"Yeah," Rafe perks up, earning the attention of his parents, "You guys should get moving, too. Y'know, lots of traffic, and Wheezie's got that thing early in the morning."

Wheezie opens her mouth to speak, but stops suddenly when Rafe gives her the death stare. She looks to you, to which you just shrug, and then turns back to her parents.

"What thing?" Rose asks her. Ward's phone buzzes in his pocket, earning his attention.

"Uh," Wheezie hesitates, looking to Rafe once more.

"Girl scout meeting," Rafe blurts.

You cover your face with your free hand to try and prevent Rose from seeing your laughter. You truly have no idea where Rafe gets this idea that Wheezie is old enough to be in girl scouts. Wheezie narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head slightly.

"Girl scout?" Rose questions to herself, still trying to figure it out when Ward speaks up, eyes still glued to his phone.

"Wheezie, get your stuff. You won't want to be tired in the morning at your meeting."

Wheezie rolls her eyes but does as she's told, making her way out of your bedroom and down the hall to collect her things in the living room.

"Seriously, Rafe?" she hisses, "Girl scouts? I'm fourteen-"

"Shut up, Wheeze," Rafe says back to her through gritted teeth.

Wheezie turns to you, "He's your problem, now."

"Oh, boy, do I know it," you tease Rafe, smiling with Wheezie. She laughs, but it's short lived when Rafe shoves her away.

"Get your shit," he mutters.

"Stop it," you demand, stepping in front of him and holding onto his forearms as they are wrapped around your waist.

The one thing you love about Rafe more than anything is how he always shows affection to you, even if your parents or his parents are around. He just doesn't seem to care about anyone except you.

"I want them to go," he defends himself, keeping his voice quiet, "I just want to be alone with you. In our home. I didn't realize that was such a difficult request."

You smile up at your fussy boy, dragging one hand up to his face to stroke his cheek. You can faintly hear your families moving around the two of you, but you're too lost in your own little world to think too much about it.

"Be patient," you whisper to him.

He smirks, "Will you make it worth my while?"

You give him back the same look, loving the way he smirks at you and allows his eyes to rake over every inch of your face and torso. It takes everything in him not to just grab you by the throat and kiss the hell out of you, only controlling himself because your dad is ten feet away.

"Don't I always?"

Rafe groans, trying his best to keep his composure. He has to close his eyes as he continues to whine, knowing that if he keeps looking at you, he'll be hard in no time.

"All right," Rafe says loudly, tugging himself away from you, "Thanks for coming, everyone, but we have a lot to unpack here. Dad, Rose, Wheezie, I'll show you to the door."

You snicker as you watch him attempt to lead his confused family out the door. You turn to your own family, giving hugs and promising to call whenever you can. Rose refuses to leave without giving you a hug, which pisses Rafe off, as he's gotten Ward and Wheezie out successfully and only needs one more.

Rose promises to send flowers, one that match the color scheme of course, and tells you she'll call you to check on Rafe, since he doesn't bother to return her calls. You give Wheezie a hug and give Ward a polite smile and wave from the doorway.

The second they're all out the door, Rafe slams the door shut and locks it before any of them can decide they forgot something.

"Ah, free at last," you joke.

Rafe turns around, licking his lips as he thinks about how you two finally have an empty house and he has you all to himself. No distractions, no parents, no little sisters listening intently at the door for secrets and drama. He eyes you up and down once, and when he brings his blue orbs to meet yours again, you know what he's thinking.

"Come here," he demands, but he can't help himself.

That boy rushes over to you, pushing you up against the wall in the entryway of your new apartment, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You accept his kiss without a second thought, allowing your hands to wrap themselves around his neck.

"Up," he mutters against your lips, hands guiding themselves to your waist as you jump up and let him position himself in between your legs, wrapping them around his torso.

He moves his kisses to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck, while his hands relentlessly roam your ass.

"Rafe," you say, tilting your neck to give him more space.

"Hmm," he hums against your skin, not stopping or slowing down for anything.

"I really do have to unpack the kitchen if you want to eat dinner tonight," you tell him, although you're fully aware he would never set you down for anything right now.

"Not hungry."

"Rafe-"

"I think," he stops you, wet kisses trailing your collarbone, "We should fuck everywhere. Y'know, break the place in."

Even though you two have been together for a while, him saying things like that to you always seems to send tingles through your whole body. He always knew what to say, what to do, to get you riled up in all the right ways.

"That would take us all night," you whisper, smirking because you already know what he's going to say.

"Fine with me, baby."

You smile, then reach down and grab ahold of his cheek with your hand. You lead his lips back to yours, kissing him harder than you had been before. He moans into your mouth and you know you have him right where you want him now.

"Kitchen first?" he questions, breathless, "Or should we mess up that pretty little bed your parents just made up?"

The raspiness in his voice gets you going, enough for him to notice you squirming in his grip. He grins, knowing exactly what it is you need.

"Kitchen," you tell him, watching as he barely nods before he kisses you again, carrying you over and setting you on the counter.

With ease, he removes your shorts and underwear, dropping his own shorts to the floor beneath him. He kicks all of the clothes away, knowing the two of you won't be needing them for a very long time.

"I can't wait, baby," he mumbles, excusing his lack of foreplay.

You shake your head, and he already knows you don't mind based on the way you're dripping onto the granite, "Please, Rafe."

He smirks and then grunts as he enters you, breathing out a sigh of relief that you two are finally home.

By the time you and Rafe even make it to your bedroom, he has to carry you because your legs can't physically function anymore. Rafe's proud of his work, but pretended to pout when he finished you off on the couch and you told him you needed a break.

He lays you down on your new, freshly made bed, moving the pillows out of your way and tucking you underneath the duvet. He climbs in beside you and molds you into his body almost instantly, inhaling your shampoo scent and perfume, thinking about how perfect this moment truly is.

"I can't believe it," he whispers.

"I know."

"Our home."

"Yes, it is."

You two lay there for a while, staring out at the tens of boxes that have each of your names written on them, just begging to be unpacked. You're sure Rafe's boxes will still be sitting there in two weeks, as he had packed a separate duffle bag of his 'essential' belongings.

"You know," he starts after a while, a devious smirk finding it's way to his cheeks, "The next big step is having a mini you. Or a mini me. But, I'd rather have a mini you."

"We just moved into our college apartment and you're talking about impregnating me," you laugh, as if to ask him if he's serious.

"She'll be so cute," he goes on, "A little girl that looks just like you. And she'd have your smarts, thank God, because she'd be screwed with mine. But she'd have my humor, of course."

"Of course?" you tease him.

"And then we'll have a boy."

"Wow, Rafe Cameron, you really just have this all figured out," you move your head up to look at him, noting the small, cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"I do, baby. He'll be a hellion, though. Never listening, always running away, but a total momma's boy. Never wants you to leave his side-"

"So, just like his dad, then?" you grin, watching Rafe clench his jaw and shake his head.

"Break's over," he grunts, rolling you on your back and climbing on top of you, "We're trying, now."

"No, we're not," you say forcefully.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I'm joking. We'll wait until, like, junior year or something."

"Rafe."

"Fine. But the second you walk across that stage with your diploma, I'm putting a baby in you."

"Deal."

Tags:

@hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

#drew starkey #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #crazy love #rafe cameron #rafe fic #rafe angst #rafe x you #rafe #rafe imagine #obx rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

#bad boy good thing #bbgt #bts #bts fics #bts series #bad boy good thing drabbles #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x oc #bts fanfiction #jungkook scenario #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He Walks Out In A Fight [Request]

A/N: I tried to give them all different tropes/AU’s so that it could be different from my other works! I have a mixture of angsty endings and fluffy endings! Sorry guys no part 2 💞💕

SEOKJIN: (Non Idol Au)

Jin stared at you as you accused him of once again cheating on you, his phone was in your hand unlocked but he just stared at you. He knew for a fact that he had nothing to hide from you, that he would never cheat on you since you were the love of his life but no matter what you found a way to say he was cheating. Finding girls names in his contacts and not believing that they were people from work, messages from girls you'd never heard of before all messaging him and asking him questions about his day with flirty suggestive comments attached to them. 

"You have guys in your messages, do you see me kicking off like this?" He asked calmly as he stared at you, you shook your head at him. 

"I tell them I've got a boyfriend unlike you. You just thank them and then give them a compliment!" You yelled out, throwing his phone in his direction as he caught it, looking at the messages to a girl he was supposedly cheating on you with. "Ashley" a guy friend from work who he was going out for a drink with that weekend, 

"You're going out for a drink with her, so tell me. What's she like? Is she pretty?" Jin groaned as you continued to yell out questions about someone called Ashley who you were convinced was a girl when in actual reality he was the newest member of Jin's work. 

"She's a he and we're going to get drinks with work buddies. You're reading too much into this," He was starting to feel defeated as he stared at you but you shook your head. Adamant that he was cheating on you so you just stared at him. 

"It's fine if you want to sleep with other people Jin, I already slept with your best friend." Jin's mouth fell open as he stared at you dumbfounded that you would just openly admit to cheating on him when you had just been ranting and raving about him messaging someone else. 

"Un-fucking-believable," He grumbled as he began walking out of the house but you followed him over to his car, 

"Not nice when it's the other way around is it?!" You snapped as he got into the car and started up his engine, 

"The difference is Y/n, I never cheated." He drove out of the drive way and off into the night, going to stay at a friends place while he cleared his head from you.

YOONGI: (Reader is a Rich CEO)

There was no secret that your relationship with Yoongi wasn't always perfect, every small fight and debate between the two of you were splashed around the headlines since you were a famous CEO which meant cameras followed you everywhere you went. Including secret spending sprees when you told Yoongi that you had an important business meeting instead of a shopping spree. 

"I don't see the big deal with going shopping, it's my money." It was true that you could do whatever you wanted with your money but that wasn't what Yoongi was mad about. He was angry at the fact that you had once again lied to him about where you had been and it was starting to get on his nerves. 

"I've been at home waiting for you, the least you could have done was called." He snapped at you, making you roll your eyes as you shook your head at him.

"I'm too tired for this fight, can we just drop it?" You moaned as you sat down on the sofa waiting for this all to be over but Yoongi wasn't going to drop it this easily. 

"All you do is spend, spend, spend your money! Do you know the only thing you don't do? You never want to spend time with me. We could have had a nice day out but you never bother to!" You rolled your eyes standing up suddenly, 

"Do you have any idea how much of a bitch you sound right now?" The words flew out before you even had time to process what you were saying and Yoongi stared at you a little shocked, 

"You're just jealous because I earn more money than you'll ever make in four years. So yes! I went out and I spent money on myself because I fucking earned it! What's wrong? I didn't spend my money on you?" Yoongi grabbed his coat from the coat rack and you stormed after him, telling him not to walk out of the door or things would be over for good. 

"Great! Then I won't have to deal with you anymore," He yelled at you as you stared back at him just as shocked as he had been when you bought up the fact that you earned more money than him.  You knew it was his biggest insecurity while he was with you, all of the media portrayed him as a money-grabbing man and he was now sure that you felt the same way. 

"You're unbelievable," He told you before walking out of the door, shutting it behind him as he began his walk into the town not wanting to take the car that you'd bought for him.

The media was all over the breakup within days of it happening, everyone taking his side instead of yours as news broke out about what you had said to him in the midst of your fight. It was made clear that Yoongi wasn't going to go back to you even if you begged him to.

HOSEOK: (Non idol AU)

"We have to talk about this," Hoseok said as he stared at you, you were sitting across from him in your kitchen, a positive pregnancy test laid out in front of him as he glanced to and from it. 

"Talk about what?" You whispered as you looked back at Hoseok, you'd hoped when you told him you were pregnant you would be overcome with a wave of relief but you weren't, it only made you worry more and more about it. You'd gone through everything in your head, neither of you was ready to bring a child into the world. Neither of you earned enough to support three people and there was no way the tiny apartment you were living in would be big enough for you two and a growing child. 

"We're too young for this," You shook your head, sliding the test into the bin as you pulled out some papers on adoption, it was the one thing you'd had on your mind since finding out you were pregnant. 

"You want to give our baby away?" His question was laced with venom and you shook your head, 

"We could give a family a new start, someone that's been wanting kids for a while could finally have one." You tried to explain it but Hoseok wasn't listening to reason he began shaking his head, telling you that he wanted to keep the child with you and him. 

"We can be a family-"

"We aren't ready Hoseok! You still act like an immature child! We don't even own a place or car big enough to grow a family. Can't you see this is for the better," You had tears running down your cheeks but Hoseok was shaking his head, all he could hear was how you'd called him an immature child.

"I can provide for us all, I'll give us a good life-"

"I would love to keep them with you but With what? We don't earn enough, we're still too young for this Hobi." But he shook his head at you again, getting up and heading to the door. Further proving your point that he acted like a child whenever he could get his own way. 

"Just walk away like you always do," You mumbled as he slammed the door behind himself. 

A month later Hoseok showed up at your doorstep, flowers in hand with a box. 

"Is this your way of proposing?" You asked unimpressed as you stared at him, the two of you had only been in contact over text messages and neglected to bring up the pregnancy conversation with one another. This was the first time you'd seen him face to face since the fight. 

"Open the box." He sighed putting the flowers down on your counter and watching as you opened the box, frowning when you saw two sets of keys inside. 

"What's this?" You pulled them out and Hoseok smiled, 

"The first is the key to our new minivan and the second is the key to our new place...A house...Somewhere we can raise our little one together...If you want to." Your eyes lit up as you stared at Hoseok wondering how he'd gotten all of this in such a short amount of time.

"I've had the house for a while...I-I'd been doing it up and so I took some paid holidays and finished it. The car is on finance but with my promotion, we can do this." All you did was lean forward and kiss him deeply.

NAMJOON: (Mafia AU)

"Where have you been? I've been calling you all night long!" Namjoon called out as you walked through the door, all night? It wasn't even 5 pm yet. You dropped the bag you'd carried home from work and sighed as he rushed to your sighed, watching you closely. 

"I had a meeting, it ran late. I text you." You whined, hanging up your shoes and coat, not ready for the same long and boring speech that he always gave to you whenever you were late or not somewhere he could see you. 

"You could have gotten hurt, someone could have hurt you." He panicked, taking your face in his hands and turning it in different directions so he could see if you had been hurt or if you were even really you. Lately, he'd been more paranoid than usual and it was starting to bug you with the constant questioning about where you were every minute of every day. 

"I'm fine. I got a ride home with Jimin, Joonie I'm fine." You got out of his grasp and headed towards the kitchen, wanting to get a strong drink if you were going to have to go through the speech about you needing a guard around you. Namjoon was in business with the Mafia and he was dating you which meant you were a walking target, anybody could decide to grab you at any point in time but you didn't want a guard, you didn't want to be protected all of the time. 

"I don't need someone telling me when and where I can't do or go somewhere Namjoon!" You finally snapped as he brought up the idea of a guard once again. The glass was smashed onto the table as you slammed it down too hard and you let out a hiss as you saw some blood coming from a small cut. Namjoon instantly went into panic mode, grabbing onto you and trying to force you to go to the hospital but you backed away from him wanting to scream out. 

"You're so fucking overprotective! Leave me alone! I am fine!" You screamed as you finally reached your breaking point, Namjoon stared at you in silence as he waited to see if you were serious.

"I'm overprotective?"

"Yes! You never let me do anything, do you know how pathetic it is?!" That was all it took, he walked out of the house leaving you in complete silence and on your own as he went to clear his head. 

Namjoon came back to the house the next day to find you curled up in his bed wearing one of his shirts, tear stains down your face. 

"Babe?" He frowned as he walked over to you, dropping his keys onto the counter thinking something was wrong but as soon as you heard him you jumped up. Running over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, begging him not to leave you like that again.

"What happened?" He asked as he pulled away, holding your face as he looked into your eyes ready to kill whoever had hurt you but you shook your head. 

"I-I just realised why you're so protective...I-I should have been more considerate...Last night I couldn't eat or sleep because you weren't here," You began crying again but all he did was wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head whispering that he was never going to leave you again while you told him over and over again how sorry you were for what you had said to him.

JIMIN: (Vampire AU)

"I don't want you to spend time with him, why is that a problem?" Jimin questioned as he stared at you, you were staring back at him while shaking your head. 

"Because you're acting like a jealous teenager," You mumbled, folding your arms over your chest as you raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who was being a jealous, overprotective and possessive boyfriend. 

"I am a teenager," You sprinted over to him with your vampiric speed and tilted your head to the side, 

"We're both 248 years old...How do you work that out," The two of you had been together for almost 222 years, both of you had changed into vampires when you were 26-years old after almost dying in a terrible accident. A doctor decided to change you both at the same time and took you in as his own, now you were acting as young as you could get away with. Ageing in different towns. Currently, you were portraying 18-years-old in a college together as a couple. 

"It's just a study session with Justin, he needs my help in biology," You reassured Jimin that there was nothing going on between you and Justin but Jimin didn't see it the way you did. He saw Justin as a threat, he was younger than both of you and human...What if you decided you wanted to be with Justin instead and changed him into one of you or worse. What if Justin found out what you were and threatened to expose you to everyone? Jimin's grip tightened on you and you stared at him, 

"I'll be fine," A car honked from outside the library and you looked out of the window, Justin was there waiting for you. 

"Don't go. You don't know him! He could hurt you," You rolled your eyes at Jimin before shaking your head, 

"You're so possessive and jealous, it's boring Jimin!" In all your years of being together, you'd never once called him boring or possessive or jealous and it hurt to know that's how you felt about him. As if you could see the dials turning in his head you tried to tell him you didn't mean it but he'd already run out of the building in the blink of an eye leaving you alone there.

Jimin could sense there was something wrong the second you walked through the door and it wasn't because you had blood on your shirt which he knew for a fact wasn't yours since you didn't bleed. 

"What happened?" He rushed to your side holding your face as you stared at him, 

"He knew. He knew about what we were...I-I had to take care of it," You mumbled as you dropped a bag down onto the floor, Jimin already knew what was inside from the smell of blood coming to his nose as he looked at it before looking back at you.

"I should have listened to you...You're always right," You mumbled as you told Jimin you both needed to get out of the city and fast since you didn't know if Justin had already told people what he knew or not. Luckily for you and Jimin it was just the two of you on the run, if you were with the rest of your family it would have been a lot harder.

TAEHYUNG: ( Friends with benefits trope)

It hadn't meant to come out this way, you and Taehyung were just supposed to be sex buddies but on what planet did that ever actually work out? None was the answer. It was a dumb idea to have if you thought it was ever going to work, 

"I told you I didn't want a relationship when we started this, what's the big deal?" You questioned as Taehyung began rushing around to find his clothes you'd torn off him earlier that night. He let out a tut as he shook his head disapprovingly at you, 

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind, maybe you'd grown a heart and decided to let someone love you!" You rolled your eyes at him as if this was some sort of romantic movie or novel that would result in you loving one another. 

"We're friends! Nothing will change that," You tried to tell him but he just scoffed at you not wanting to listen to it all over again, 

"Last time I checked, friends don't fuck each other the way we do," You shook your head at him, 

"You're unbelievable! How could you think I would ever love you like that?!" The world seemed to stop moving and you were left staring at one another from across your bedroom floor. Taehyung's eyes were red as he started to cry but you didn't feel guilt. You told him from the start that you didn't want to deal with the emotions of being in a relationship, that what was going on between you was just sex. 

"Did you really just say that?" Tears rolled down his cheeks as he waited for you to answer him, 

"It's just sex. I don't like you like that," He nodded his head as he dressed himself, walking out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard your picture frame fell off the wall and smashed onto the floor leaving you to stare at it as he stormed off. 

Four months later you were walking around the mall with some friends when you bumped into Taehyung with a group of his friends, you locked eyes with one another and you didn't know if you should have waved or kept your head down but Taehyung answered it for you. Turning his face away from you and talking with the guys as though he hadn't even seen you standing there in front of him, you couldn't blame him after what you'd said to him though so you just kept walking, not looking over your shoulder.

JUNGKOOK: ( Idol x Reader)

You sighed as Jungkook continued to yell at you for going out when he specifically told you not to, it wasn't as though he was keeping you in the house all of the time or being overly protective of you. That weekend he had plans to spend the entire time with you, wanting to be alone for a while instead of with the boys or your friends but you'd snuck out the night before and didn't come back until the early hours. Still drunk as you stood across from Jungkook in the living room, 

"Can you stop yelling? I have a headache," You mumbled to him wanting nothing more than to head up to your bed and forget the night before even happened. 

"This was the first time we would have been alone together in a while, can you blame me for missing you?" Your back was turned to him so he didn't see you roll your eyes at the statement so you just walked up the stairs to the bedroom, falling down onto the mattress as you let out a huge sigh. 

"I just want to sleep," You moaned at him, rolling over so your head was buried between the pillows and the sunlight wasn't hurting your eyes anymore, 

"Didn't you miss me?" You stayed silent as Jungkook questioned you, walking back into the room with a sad expression written across his face. He figured you must have missed him as much as he missed you during the week, you hardly got to see one another thanks to his busy schedule at the studios. 

"It's just like when you go on tour. It's no big deal. I'm used to it," You drunkenly mumbled into the pillow, closing your eyes as you saw no problem with what you had said but to Jungkook it felt as though you'd taken his heart from his chest and stomped it into the ground. 

"You don't miss me? Do you even love me?" You let out a groan at his question, rolling over to face him. He had tears running down his cheeks as he stared at you, waiting for you to answer him he had fears running around his head at what you might say but nothing could have prepared him for it.

"Do you have any idea how fucking clingy you sound right now?" You grumbled before laying back down, staring at the ceiling while Jungkook stormed out of the room. Slamming the door behind him as he headed into the spare bedroom for the night, he'd heard enough from you. 

The next morning when you finally emerged from the bedroom you found Jungkook sitting in the living room eating lunch on his own, 

"Morning baby, what time did I come in?" You questioned tiredly as you sat down beside him, attempting to cuddle up beside him but he shifted away from your touch. 

"Babe?" You frowned looking at him as he continued to stare at the screen that had some old sit-com running instead of at you. You went to touch his arm but he got up, 

"I don't want to be too clingy for you." He snapped and that was when it hit you. Memories of the night before came flooding back to you as you groaned at him. 

"J-Jungkook, I didn't mean it, I was drunk-"

"Drunk words are sober thoughts," He snapped before heading into the kitchen to clean up but you weren't going to let him get away with that, you just rushed over to him. Wrapping your arms around him from behind and burying your face in his back, 

"I know you're going away s-soon...I was pushing you away so I wouldn't feel so hurt when you go on tour," You explained your backwards way of thinking and you felt Jungkook's body physically relax as he realised you weren't serious the night before. 

"It was dumb and I should have said something to you instead of just acting like a bitch," He nodded in agreement, letting you say everything you needed to say before the two of you spent the day with your hangover on the sofa together.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @innersooya @sweeneyblue1​ @sw33tnight​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts reaction #bts reactions #seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kim taehyung #taehyung #park jimin #jimin #kim namjoon #namjoon #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jin #kim seokjin

[writing-dead-clovers]

The Good Monster (Monster AU!Philza x child!GN!Reader)

Mentions of cannibalism, cults, and kidnapping. Mentions of blood and cutting (breifly). If this triggers or bothers you, please feel free to ignore this story.

Phil sighed as he watched his three sons arguing. "Would you three stop arguing for five minutes?" He barked at them. The trio immediately shut up, due to Phil never really snapping at them. "Go do your jobs for fuck's sake." The boys looked at each other before leaving quickly, Techno being the last to leave, practically shoving his brothers out. He couldn't really blame his oldest for the behavior, as he knew when his father had enough of the childishness. Phil glanced at the file that was labeled important. The blonde contemplated on just handing the file over to Puffy instead of keeping it. One of the Baby class monsters had made a report on what they thought was an endangered child. He really should be handing Puffy the file at that moment, the sheep monster had already put in for any endangered kids to rescue them. Most monsters didn't know the truth about the Fear Factory, though it gave jobs to thousands of monsters and fueled the Monster Realm, was actually built to rescue lost souls. It gave chances to monsters to have a normal life and to bring those they connect to, to where they belonged. Almost every monster here had a human rescue license, save for the teens and apprentices, who were far too young to have them.

Phil sighed before opening the file, his curiosity getting the best of him. Big innocent e/c eyes stared up at him and he knew immediately that he fucked up. Sighing, the male got up and made his way to the fear floor.

Puffy was quick to get to him, her eyes big and hopeful. Her boys had grown up and she wanted desperately to be a mother again. Phil sighed before shaking his head at her. Puffy gave him a knowing smile and put her hand on his shoulder. "Bring them home Phil. And I better be this one's godmother." The blonde chuckled at her. "I will Puffy. Thank you." Phil said softly. "Where are they at?" Puffy asked as she walked with him. "The same center I found Wilbur at, the one you ended up getting Foolish from." Puffy winced. "How old are they?" "Five." Puffy immediately started cooing. "Can I see the file?" Phil hesitated, but handed her the file as they stopped at his station. "Y/n, no known last name, age 5. Found abandoned on the steps of Silent Angels shelter at the age of 2 years old. What hell is wrong with these damn humans?" Puffy huffed. "And look at them, they're so freaking cute! I'm jealous, Phil." The blonde chuckled, his wings readjusting as he got ready. "So, do the boys know about this?" "Nope." Phil stated, setting his hat down. "You really should let them know before you just bring a new child into their lives." "The only one who still lives with me is Tommy. Wilbur has his own kid, and Techno, I have no idea what the fuck he's doing." Phil stated. Puffy smacked him with the folder. "Don't cuss! You don't want this baby repeating that. You have no idea how long it took me to teach Foolish that all the words Dream taught him were bad." "I remember that, you were so mad at him because he was saying fuck before he said mom." "It took almost three years to teach him that it was bad." The sheep sighed, earning a laugh from the winged male. "Good luck though, Phil." "Thank you Puffy." The woman nodded before turning to go to her station. Phil worked quick, putting the necessary information in. The second he was done, he made sure he had everything needed before entering the human realm.

He peeked in as he stepped through a door, a single room with a small bed in the corner. He rolled his eyes at the Christian cross on the wall, knowing damn well that this 'Christian orphanage' was actually a cannibalistic cult. Phil made quick, silent steps to the bed where the child rested. The winged male gently took the child's hand and carefully cut it to make a blood pact. He cut his own hand and finished the pact, taking the time to study his new child. H/c locks against s/c flesh, and wide, innocent e/c eyes.

Wait a minute.

Phil looked back at them and carefully bandaged their hand. "Hello little one." They waved at him. He smiled, bandaging his own hand. His head turned to the door, hearing footsteps down the hall. Phil was quick to take the child in his arms and rush to the closet. "Stop." The blonde flinched, stopping in his tracks. He turned and came face to face with one of the cult members. She gasped in horror at him. "You stay back." He warned her, pressing the child's face into his shoulder. "Leave the child, you foul beast." The woman hissed at him. He gave her a challenging look. "Are you going to take them from me? Because I would love to see you try." Phil challenged, glaring at her. "God will save this child from you, you foul monster." "Oh sweet, merciful Satan." The male sighed, rubbing his temple. "Your God was a crazed lunatic, who your cult claims that he ordered them to devour children. Almost all the children that were 'left here' were kidnapped from their families." Phil snapped at the woman. "I will not hesitate to show you to God." His wings spread out as he glared at her. "Leave." The woman was quick to leave the room, screaming about a 'false angel of sin' stealing a child. Phil closed his wings back up before opening the closet door. "Are you gonna hurt me?" The child asked meekly. "I would never, my dear little dove. I'm taking you to be apart of my family. You'll love your big brothers, just as much as they'll love you." Phil said, shifting the child so that they were on his hip. "Let's go home, dove." The male opened the door and went back to the monster realm.

He glances up, seeing Puffy with his three sons. "Boys, meet your new sibling Y/n." Techno rolled his eyes, acting like he didn't care. Phil knew better, he knew the glint in his son's eyes, Techno had already decided that this one was definitely going to be his favorite sibling. Wilbur was floating around, making faces at his new sibling to make the five year old laugh. Tommy glared at the youngest child, clearly already jealous. "Tommy, come hold Y/n." "No way!" Phil raised a brow before whispering into the child's ear. "Call him Tomtom, and reach for him." The child nodded and reached for the young blonde. "Tomtom." The teen almost immediately melted before taking the child. They grinned up at him and hugged him. "You're alright, I guess."

#philza x you #philza x y/n #philza x reader #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #fear family #fear family series #fear family story

[nctrsn20]

His Angel

CHARACTERS ― Lee Taeyong (NCT 127), Yelena Olivia Elinova, Alyona Alice Elinova, N-127/U (NCT 127 / NCT U)

GENRE ― nct 127 as mafia, nct as mafia, mafia au

AUTHOR’S NOTE/WARNINGS ― slight angst, curse words, random dudes calling the girls slut, eventually turns into fluff

SUMMARY ― Taeyong didn’t seem to care about the party since it brings no use to his entertainment since his girlfriend isn’t there until two well-known and famous ladies somehow caught the attention of men in the night club.

“..I don’t get a hug..?”

“What did Aurelia say?”

“..She will be here soon, but she told us to go in first since she is currently with Eunwoo.” Alyona answered the older one while texting their youngest about their whereabouts.

“..What party is this exactly? There’s a lot of people entering,” Yelena muttered while taking a few looks out of their car.

“...According to Aurelia, this is a party of celebration regarding the success of NCT,” Alyona looked up towards her sister who was leaning against the car before continuing, “Ready to go?... or you wanna stay here, because I’m down with anything.”

“Leo, are you sure you wanna go in? You might see—

“Yeah, yeah, I might see Ten. To be really honest, I don’t care. Besides, the other guys are there and we are no stranger to them,” Alyona shrugs cooly. Yelena stares at her sister, searching for any sign of sadness or any emotional expression but it seems she looks normal.

Alyona and Ten’s relationship, well, they aren't together - but they had a history together and they were beyond friends or best friends. Somehow along the line, Ten somehow fucked up.

It’s really a long story.

“If you say so,” Yelena muttered to herself before exiting the car, followed by Alyona as they held their hands together.

They had not stepped into the club yet, but people who were going the same way as them were already looking at their way, somehow snapping pictures of them - yet the two girls didn’t care, as they held their hands tightly.

They were well-known for their own reputation, Yelena being a director of their parents’ business called Elinovas Co, and at the same time a creator of the famous group called Elinovas Angels - where most of NCT members girlfriends’ are in.

Alyona on the other hand is the face of Elinovas Co, she would always show up in every magazine cover. She would often collaborate with big brands, as well other businesses that some of the members of Elinovas Angels had.

Both of them pass through the security, they do not need to pull out their identity card since they were regular people that went to Ten’s club. As soon as they went through the big red curtain, their eyes slowly widened upon what they were seeing right in front of them.

“Holy sh—

Alyona was about to curse, but Yelena was fast to cover the other girls’ mouth - pulling them to a corner.

“I knew there would be a lot of people here…. How are we supposed to find them?” Yelena went closer to speak to her sister, noticing that their appearance had caught most of the people there.

Yelena is good at figuring out her surroundings - as she looks around, they are on the first floor. They weren’t even on the top floor but they got most eyes looking down their way.

“Found them!” Alyona pointed at a direction - pulling her sister who was caught off-guard. Two of them just walked across the floor - again not minding the attention they were receiving, until two big, unknown guys approached them.

Alyona and Yelena had to abruptly stop their heels.

“Hello, sexy. Where are you two going?”

Alyona raised one of her eyebrows towards the unwelcome guest before turning towards Yelena who was staring at the guy with a deep frown, at the same time holding onto Alyona’s hand tightly.

“Another drink, sir?”

“Ye—

“No thanks! I think he is done for now!” Doyoung took the shot glass from Taeyong quickly, drinking it in one go - smiling at the waiter as he went off to serve other tables. Taeyong turns towards Doyoung with a deep glare.

“That was my glass! Why did you take it!?” Taeyong slightly hissed, making Doyoung roll his eyes. “Taeyong, you had like 10 shots. You’re gonna be drunk in like 3 more shots.”

“..So?.. Who cares?.. My angel isn’t here anyway..” Taeyong muttered to himself, grabbing another random shot glass as he looked at it with sentimentality.

Drinking somehow reminds him of her, she was always there when he had a party to attend - she was always there to look out for him, telling him softly that he has limits on drinking, and he listens, which surprises his friends.

It’s been a year that they didn’t have this kind of hang out, that’s because Yelena is currently in France, she is the director of a fashion show.

Taeyong was against it at first but knowing that her sisters and most of the girls’ of Elinovas Angels would be going too, he wasn’t worried.

He also had told Yelena that he would be visiting her every month, which he did.

But he still misses her, everyday, every night and every time - and she was supposed to return home two days ago but things had gone slightly wrong in her work, so she would be back in two days.

“Doyoung, has your girl come home?” Taeyong muttered, and Doyoung could only humm in response, kind of not wanting the leader to feel more emotional.

So far, all NCTs’ partners have returned back home from their overseas work - now it’s only the Elinovas Sisters who are still out there.

A few more guys showed up, sitting on the leather couch - them noticing the mood somehow gone down. “..What’s wrong with Taeyong?” Ten points.

Yuta nudged Ten’s arm, frowning slightly towards the other. “What?”

“I think he misses Yelena,” Johnny appeared, along with Jaehyun and Jungwoo. “You don’t miss Alyona?” Johnny asked Ten, who looked kind of unbothered.

“..Nah..” Ten shakes his head, before taking a beer bottle - gulping it one go. He really didn’t want to talk about his relationship with her. He still feels guilty about what had happened.

“Speaking of Yelena and Alyona, is Aurelia coming, Jaehyun?” Jungwoo asked, turning towards him - he somehow looked a little troubled at first, but he managed to let out a smile.

“Yeah.. She is coming with Eunwoo,” Jaehyun stated and everyone somehow nodded. Just as Taeyong was about to pour another drink on his glass, there came Taeil who looked like he was in a rush.

Yuta noticed him from afar, “Taeil! You looked like—

“Taeyong! Ten! You might need to come down, like right now!” Taeil pointed down, while slightly yelling at the group. Doyoung and Jaehyun saw where he was specifically pointing at.

Jaehyun, who was close to the railings where they could see the first floor, decided to check what was going on.

He could hear commotions but he didn’t know where it would come from. His eyes search for where the noise is, frowning to see two familiar girls.

His eyes widened slowly.

“Isn’t that…?” Jaehyun trailed off and right as he was about to inform Taeyong, Doyoung was already fast enough to see what was going on, running towards the table.

“We have to go down! Yelena and Alyona are downstairs!” Doyoung informed in a hurry. The first ones to leave the area were Taeyong, Ten and Jaehyun followed by the others with guns placed on their backs.

They kept on blocking their way which made Alyona's heart boil in frustration, Yelena on the other hand was trying to avoid the two men’s eye contact, looking down all the way while linking her arm with her sister.

“C’mon, ladies. Don’t play hard to get.” One of them spoke, still following them.

“Why so serious, sweetie? C’mon, look at me,” One of them somehow spoke directly towards Yelena, as she could only continue following Alyona’s way.

“Could you two please piss off already? We are here for a few guys,” Alyona glared towards them, and somehow they didn’t believe Alyona’s words.

“..And which certain guys would want the two of you?”

“What is that supposed to mean? You know what, if you’re not gonna go, we are going to.” Alyona was about to pull Yelena too, when one of them had their grip on Yelena’s arm, while the other guy had his hand gripped tightly towards Alyona’s wrist.

“The two of you are going to have fun with us!” One of them smirked, pulling Yelena roughly as she tried to let go of his grip.

“Let go!” Yelena yelled while glaring towards the man. It was obvious they were new to this club, specifically a club that belongs to Taeyong and Ten.

Alyona really couldn’t take it that she used her bag, swinging it towards the faces of the two men, which they had a shocking look on their faces as it turned into irritation.

Alyona had seen this coming, pushing Yelena behind her, to protect her sister.

“You sluts—

Both of the men looked like they were about to put their hands on the two girls, but somehow they felt something or specifically a gun barrel on the back of their head.

But their eyes somehow travelled towards the back of the girls, causing Yelena to turn around - seeing Johnny and Yuta somehow pointing their guns towards where the two men were.

Alyona had her head peeking out slightly to see who was behind them, seeing Ten and Taeyong with a few of the 127 guys at their back.

Jaehyun and Doyoung escort the two girls out of the way, somehow guiding them to the side - at the same time shielding them for whatever is gonna come. They knew this wouldn’t end nicely, since they messed with Taeyong’s girlfriend and his family.

Taeyong considered Yelena’s sisters as his own siblings.

“W-w-what..” The two men had their hands up, feeling the gun barrel being pushed deeply on the back of their heads.

“Well, well, well, you must be new for someone who kind of messed with the girls of Elinovas.” Ten sounded like he was joking, but his words were threatening. He even hits the back of the man’s head.

Taeyong on the other hand didn’t even bother. Maybe because it was alcohol, he started to slowly get furious. One of his arms was still on the back of the other man’s head while his free hand gripped onto the man's hair, yanking backwards.

“Heard that you called my girl a slut,” Taeyong grip tightens while yanking the man’s head towards his direction, and once he gets a look on Taeyong’s face, the man’s face goes completely pale.

He messed with the wrong girls and the wrong group of guys.

Taeyong stared at the two men before looking towards where Johnny and Yuta were. “Johnny, Yuta, go settle these two. Do whatever you want with them, kill them, dispose them, I don’t care.” Taeyong throws the man right towards where Johnny is, while Ten wordlessly throws the other towards Yuta.

“Roger that!” Johnny shrugs, somehow dragging one of them, while Yuta just wordlessly dragged the other one who was begging for mercy.

They specifically know what Johnny and Yuta does.

“That was a nice show! Sad that my girlfriend isn’t here to watch too!” Doyoung commented in sarcasm, before turning towards the two ladies who looked already too tired, causing Jaehyun to laugh.

After that whole fiasco, the group of men guided the two girls upstairs, where the 127’s table is always located.

As usual, the girl exchanged their greetings with the boys with a warm hug - before dispersing, going to the first floor to meet their other friends.

Jaehyun specifically is going to see the youngest sister of the two girls, Aurelia who is with Eunwoo somewhere on the first floor by now, Eunwoo is Jaehyun’s long time best friend.

Alyona somehow left with Ten - Yelena caught a glimpse of Alyona, seeing that she looked kind of pissed with Ten following her behind. She could only sigh while looking towards the other men.

Johnny came back without Yuta.

“Congratulation Johnny, you’re a Dad now,”

“I know right! I’m so excited! Wait, how did you know!?”

“..That’s a secret,” Yelena winked towards Johnny who was giving the girl a side eye. Taeyong on the other hand was sitting closely, beside her - watching how she was exchanging words with the others.

Whenever she is talking, Taeyong has his eyes on her - he adores how her face moves, showing every exact expression she feels.

Jungwoo's eyes somehow travel towards Taeyong who was beside her, seeing that he became quiet and he looks like he is about to burst his anger out. “O..kay, we can catch up other times,” Jungwoo somehow nudged onto Doyoung who was still talking to Yelena about a run-way that she had done with Doyoung’s girlfriend.

“Okay then. Tell me more later, Yelena. See you later,” Doyoung pats Yelena’s back, a sign that he would be leaving.

Now it was just her and Taeyong.

‘Nice, they are all gone,’

“..I don’t get a hug..?” Taeyong pouted, causing Yelena to turn fully towards him. “Aww, come here,” Yelena opens her arms wide, and Taeyong didn’t hesitate to give her a big, tight hug - at the same time inhaling her scent.

She is Taeyong’s home.

Once he let go of her, Taeyong sat incredibly close beside her, their arms and shoulders were squishing with each other, Taeyong didn’t mind that.

He had his other arm snaking on Yelena’s shoulders while his other hand landed on her thigh, gripping slightly. “You’re finally back here right? Please tell me you won’t leave abroad again,” Taeyong asked, his brows went downwards with his eyes showing that puppy look.

“No, my love. I’m staying for good…. for now,”

“Baby!” Taeyong whines, causing Yelena to laugh her heart out.

She didn’t hesitate to give a peck on his lips. Taeyong was still frowning and pouting.

“It depends on mother and father, I don’t make the decisions, remember?” Yelena leaned towards him, her nose rubbing with his in adoration.

And this is exactly why she would make his day more lively and better. They have known each other since they were babies.

Taeyong couldn’t describe her with just words, she was more than his girlfriend - she is his pillar, his soulmate, his pride and joy, his everything.

He noticed that his life was meaningless without her by his side, even when he has lots of money, gold, silver, diamonds, the luxuries - those are meaningless without her.

Taeyong hummed, at the same time he scooped her up easily on his lap, earning a slight shriek from Yelena.

She had her arms around her neck, ruffling his hair slightly, taking off the shades that were on his head.

Taeyong wrapped both of his arms around her tiny waist, leaning against her chest - hearing her heartbeat.

He started to feel slightly sleepy - maybe because he started to become sober.

“..I forgot to say this, but welcome back, Yelena. I love you,” Taeyong whispered, with his head fully leaning against her chest. Feeling the weight, Yelena peeked onto Taeyong’s face, seeing him looking peaceful as his eyes closed shut.

Smiling to what she sees, Yelena kissed the top of his head, before rubbing his back gently. “I love you too, Yongie. Thank you for waiting for me,”

With her words, Taeyong smiled and he finally could sleep in peace after almost a year - the genuine sleep he needs where he knows that the love of his life is physically there with him for the rest of the days and night.

[ MASTERLIST ]

#nct mafia #nct 127 mafia au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct taeyong scenarios #nct taeyong imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 taeyong scenarios

[generallynerdy]

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

*

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

*

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

*

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

*

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

*

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

*

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din. 

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

*

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right. 

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin oneshot #sw x reader #sw imagine #sw oneshot #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #star wars fanfic #sw fanfic #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian fanfic #that's the most tags ive used in a while #uncalled they come to me #rivika #river #generallynerdy #request #anon request #din djarin #star wars #sw

[xirenex]

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The Ex

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Group: Ateez

Member: Jung Wooyoung

Genre: Suggestive, kind of angst

jung wooyoung x fem! reader - bratty reader, marking

Your ex interrupts you on your birthday night to clear things out.

Word count: 1.427

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationship, swearing

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You felt the seat next to you fill with a familiar presence and furrowed your brows while taking a sip from your cocktail. Sitting by yourself on the bar stool, you were enjoying the pleasant air after the party. It was expected for you to cross paths with your ex since your best friend, the birthday girl, had his best friend as her boyfriend but you had been hoping that he would act ignorant to your presence. However being him, it had never been an option in the first place. You were foolish to think so.

“Jung Wooyoung.”

“Y/S/N Y/N”

You both acknowledged the other’s presence but refused to turn your head and see the other’s face. The party was taking place in a cafe that was used as a lounge bar during the night and it was rented out for the night by the birthday girl who was currently in her boyfriend’s embrace. Since the following day was your birthday, you decided as a group to stay in the hotel who consisted this floor as a lounge. As the hour approached to midnight, the party started dying down, none of you were young enough to go crazy for the night and get wasted but instead, most of the people preferred engaging in other physical activities. Your eyes went to where the couple was standing without even bothering to see your ex’s handsome face, Yeosang cuddling your best friend from behind.

“I wonder if we used to look like that...”

Wooyoung murmured, vocalizing your thoughts while he took a casual sip from his drink with his eyes focused forward.

“Because it looks gross.”

The last part, surely you didn’t agree with. Contrary to Wooyoung, Yeosang was the boyfriend that all girls would wish for. For the first time since he sat next to you, you turned to face him, your anger and mocking expression, as usual, obvious on your face.

“It was gross but it was because you were the one doing it. They look cute and you are a brute for denying that.”

A smirk appeared on his lips while he leaned forward as if he was challenging you.

“Oh... so I guess you were into the part where we used to do what Mingi and your bestie is doing downstairs, hidden in a room, right?”

You sighed. He was impossible, arrogant and was getting on your nerves. An unconscious scoff left you as you got your purse and stood up from the bar stool. As you were speaking, you pulled down your skirt as it had went upwards while you were seated.

“As if. You were the worst kisser I’ve ever had a relationship with.”

A big fat lie.

He was perfect in only sexual area and oh boy, wasn’t he aware of it. That was exactly why, you literally disappeared from his side like a magic trick before he could make an opposing remark. Being single was simply perfect during the days when you have just broken up. You loved being able to do what you wanted to without the necessity of asking, waiting or informing someone else. Jung Wooyoung was one of the most jealous and petty partners you’ve ever been with if not the hardest. He definitely was not good for your self esteem since he never resisted other girls coming onto him and never made you feel precious emotionally. He seemed like a good boyfriend from the outside but it was all an illusion created in your head by your attraction towards the men that your friends warned you about.

After all, it started as a fling.

You found yourself being tied to him each day he ran after you in campus. It was just like the Stockholm Syndrome. The line between consent and obligation blurred as you spent time together.

Sex was fine but on an emotional level, you were exhausted. However, the thing that made you snap wasn’t his lack of attention towards you but the fact that another woman answered his call when he was supposed to be abroad on a family trip.

On days like these where your best friends were all lovey-dovey with their significant others and your low alcohol tolerance pushed you to go for the first man you saw, as if your hormones were never stable enough, you wanted someone to stand by your side and accompany you.

Like your passionately clingy ex Jung Wooyoung never did.

To be honest, he tried his best, although his best was way below the average.

By the time you returned to the real world and got rid of the thoughts of the past on your mind created by the emotions, you realized you’ve arrived on your floor in hotel. The elevator came to a stop with a common sound of “ding” and you walked towards your room. In the elevator, just before you got out, you managed to send a text to the birthday girl to inform that you’ll be returning to your room tonight for some rest. Then, you stepped in to your room, hoping for a bath... or so you thought. Strong arms pushed you in before closing the door to trap you between his arms and looked at you straight in the eye.

“The problem is, honey, I was your only true relationship. Knowing you, you wouldn’t stand anyone who didn’t know how to please you.”

He said, giving you the reply you didn’t allow him to upstairs. You had no idea how he managed to follow you to your room without you realizing but you could feel yourself turning red from anger from the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Jung Wooyoung, get out.”

He made no attempt to draw away but instead, he lowered himself down. He was playing you just like a cat playing with its prey.

“You are not being fair to yourself, kitten.”

A slap landed on his face which left a mark. You knew that your hand would hurt after the effect of the adrenaline took off but it was only a small concern when you considered the predator before you. Just when you escaped from the cage formed by his arms and was turning around to get into the restroom so that he could see himself out, he pushed you back, this time making sure to pin your arms to to wall on top of you with a single hand easily.

“I hate you.”

You hissed, suiting to your pet name. Instead of bothering to reply, he grabbed your bottom lip with his and sucked on it hard enough to leave a mark. It was aggressive but hot, although you would never say it to his face. Therefore, you chose to bite his. If you could not make him leave, you would annoy him to death. That was one of the things you were good at. After all, your teacher was him.

“God, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He rubbed the point between his brows and breathed in with his eyes closed. In reality, he was actually quite sad thinking about the way you strongly rejected him. Everything in your relationship consisted misunderstandings but both of you were too lazy and he was kind of stupid for not pulling you down to sit in order to have a genuine conversation where you two confronted each other because you had no idea what he was going through behind the stage. That, frankly, boiled your blood even more: being left in the dark where you watched as your relationship grew colder was more suffocating than you initially thought.

“Let me go.”

You ordered.

“And leave my room while I’m still asking you nicely.”

He was strong but you were not weak either, you could throw him out since, somehow, you were sure he wouldn’t hurt you. Opening his eyes to look you in the eye once more, you realized that his irises turned darker.

“Oh no, kitten. No one’s leaving this place until you spill every single rubbish in your heart, mind or wherever it is.”

It was not something you were used to but he was fed up. Something was glinting dangerously in his eyes.

“Although I would never call most of the things that would come out of your body rubbish... Anyways, like this, we can have a celebration of our own for your birthday, too, right?”

You gulped. There was a long night waiting for you.

On contrary, the throbbing part of your lower body was looking forward to this confrontation.

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Hi again :) I’m back with a Wooyoung one shot. I hope you are doing well. As for me, the college entrance exam is just around the corner so it’s kind of stressing these days... ANYWAYS I would like to say that I get requests even if I may not be able to write it immediately so... yeah :) I hope you have a nice day/night wherever you are.

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#jung wooyoung #ateez #ateez wooyoung #atiny #wooyoung fic #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #ateez smut

[doyumacy]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 3

gif not mine

pairing: taeyong x doyoung x reader

warnings: 「dotae x reader, mentions of donghyuck and yuta, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex m. receiving) polyamorous relationship, swearing, angst, a slight of possessives  」

word count: 「 3,4K 」

ꜰᴏᴜʀ

“Someone sent you flowers,” Your assistant Donghyuck enters your office with a white rose flower bouquet in his hands.

You stop what you are doing and smile looking at them. Taeyong and his gifts. He even changed the flowers since he never sent white roses. Donghyuck places the bouquet on your desk and hands you the note card. You grab it.

𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔. 

𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 

𝑫.

You smile and bite your lip.

Doyoung.

You shake your head when you realise this might be wrong. Why would he send you flowers? He hates flowers and even more, sending them. You know things are getting out of control and as much as you don’t want things to change, you don’t mind the idea of just you and Doyoung.

But the image of Taeyong comes to your mind. What would he say if he knew you two were going back his back? If something Taeyong can’t stand is betrayal and much less of the people he loves.

You come back to reality when you hear Donghyuck sigh. “I wish I could find love.”

You huff. “Love ain’t everything in this world.”

“Easy for you to say it when you have two men just for you,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fair, but I mean, you already have love.”

“The love I receive from you and my family can give me orgasms,” Donghyuck cocked his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Try using Tinder?”

“I am desperate but not that desperate,” he places a hand on his chest, offended.

“Or you can wait for the party this weekend to mingle,” you beam. “But as your boss I’m telling you that's not the most professional thing to do.”

“We all know those parties are not for business or looking good; is to find a good ass to bang,” he shrugs.

“I’m gonna pretend to didn’t say that or I will uninvite you,” you warn.

“Is Johnny still married?” He asks.

“Pretty much so,” you smile, typing on your laptop keyboard.

He sighs, defeated. “I guess I can’t stop trying.”

“Aren’t you gonna text Taeyong to say ‘thank you’ for the flowers?”

You nod. “I’m just gonna finish something and I’ll call him.”

(...)

When you’re back home, you notice a sound in the kitchen and go there just to find Taeyong putting away the groceries. He has taken his suit jacket off and is hanging on the back of one of the kitchen benches. He turns and sees you. He smiles at you. “Hey you. When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”

“I just got here,” you say and get closer to him, placing the bouquet on the kitchen counter.

“Who sent those?” He points at the bouquet.

You press your lips together. “It was a gift from the Chinese editor. He’s excited to come.”

Taeyong nods and closes the fridge door. He rolls up his shirt sleeves and leans against the counter, resting his hands on it. He tilts his head, looking at you. “Why do you lie to me?”

You blink. “W-what do you mean?”

He sighs and walks to you a few steps. “I know Doyoung fucked you days ago.”

You gulp and open your mouth, but nothing comes out of it. “H-how did you know?”

“I heard you two,” he shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t mind at all. Doyoung and I have fucked plenty of times when you’re not around.”

You tilt your head in surprise. “What?”

“It doesn't feel good, does it?” Taeyong cocks an eyebrow.

You shake your head. He finally steps in front of you and grabs your chin with his thumb. “What really bothers me is that you lied to me.”

You look down your feet and gulp. “I’m sorry.”

Taeyong squeezes your chin a bit so you look at him. When your eyes meet his, one of the corners of his lips lifts. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Slowly, Taeyong leans into the space between you and him, lips puckering slightly and pressing themselves to yours. Mouths lulling against each other, the pliant skin of his lips aching upon you, making you want more, making you want to kiss every part of him.

Your chest, and cheeks, and heart burn, fingers curling around his jaw and pulling him into you. Mouths aching for more, noses nudging against cheeks, hands desperately reaching to grab for flesh. Taeyong moves backwards slightly. He stares at you before pushing you down slowly to the bed. He places himself on top of you, kissing you again. His body arching into you, chest plush against your breasts, his groin prodding you, the heat of his member obvious even through his pants. Your mouth parts with a groan, with Taeyong reaching up, clasping a hand around your throat. He latches down gently, fingers strong, curling the way they would when he places them inside you. Another moan rumbles out your mouth. Mark pulled back. You bite your lip.

He removes his hand from your throat, leaving you all too untouched and to make it worse, he takes a hold of your wrists and pin them atop your head. Leaving you helpless and unable to pull him closer. You watch from below as a grin parts from Taeyong's lips, still glowing with the remnants of your kiss.

"Taeyong, please."

"Please?" He partially asks, partially mocked.

"Please fuck me."

"Hey, hey,’ he releases your wrists. "Patience, baby. And you still have to show me how sorry you are."

Taeyong leans downward, pressing a single kiss upon your lips. The taste of him lingering against you but disappearing all too quickly, though the feeling reappeared upon your neck. Where Taeyong leaves small, chaste kisses, trailing lower as though he is mapping out every detail of your skin. The desire to reach up and grasp his shoulders burn in your stomach, and yet, the compulsion to follow his orders is stronger. Taeyong is rarely a dom, and today he is behaving like, and you don't mind at all.

You keep your hands upon the bed as Taeyong moves your shirt upward, rolling it as he did, supple skin of his fingers brushing against your torso. Small whimpers leave your mouth, eyes tightly shut, embarrassed at how easily his touches affected you.

But his touches stop when he stands up in front of you. You get on your knees still on the bed and help him to remove what is left of his suit, letting it drop on the floor. "So..." you start,  fingers undoing the button of his dress shirt. "Will this be enough to show you how sorry I am?" you ask and then suck his chest, making him groan sexily. You lick the spot and give it a kiss before admiring the red spot you created in contrast to his white skin.

"You tell me," Taeyong grabs your hair and pulls it a bit. "Oh God, (Y/N)," Taeyong calls when you bend down to give his stomach marks as well, licking the sensitive skin.

You remove his pants, putting down his boxers that it's a pool under him now. You fist his growing member. Taeyong closes his eyes shut when you kiss the side of his cock, biting his lip to prevent a series of groans to emerge.

You give the tip a lick, kissing it as it oozes precum. "Fuck." he hisses, looking down on you Damn, you look so hot kneeling in front of him like that. Your hand doesn't leave his cock the whole time then smiles before doing the deed.

Your mouth is really hot or maybe because his cock was really sensitive now but it feels so good that groans escape his lips. You suck his cock, playing with it inside her mouth and even fondling his balls. His hands reach for your hair again,  tugging it in a ponytail as he bobbs your head up and down on his cock. He groans and throws his head back.

"You're so fucking good, baby." he compliments as the holds on your hair got tighter. You swallow his cock, deepthroating him that makes him groan. "Oh God, (Y/N)." And that is it, his control going down the drain. He thrusts into your mouth with so much power. He keeps on groaning as he fuck your mouth and feel himself cumming in no time. His cum fills your throat and some dropped on your mouth, even licking the excess from his cock, swallowing it.

Taeyong gives you an adoring smile as he wipes some excess from your lips and you suck his finger that makes him look at you lustfully. "Such a good girl."

"My turn," he slightly pushes you into the bed again and with no effort, your pants are on the floor.

He begins to gently brush the pad of his middle finger against your folds, the pressure already making you squirm. Your panties are stuck to your skin, unable to realise how wet you are from just a kiss and sucking Taeyong off, but here's proof as the chiffon moulds to your sex, Taeyong’s finger delicately causing a delicious friction that wound your body up even more. You need something else. You need his skin on yours.

You shift uncomfortably when he slides against your clit and he freezes on the spot, basking in your reaction as a small whine falls from your lips. His fingers pulling at your panties as he places his hand inside, making room in the tight space.

He groans when he feels the softness of your flesh, drenched in your arousal and he presses his forehead against yours. The tight material strains against his hand and your thighs making you look down and you moan at the sight, the veins in his hand protruding against the skin as two of his fingers rub at your clit. Your head falls back against the bed while you concentrate on taking deep breaths to ease you away from your impending combustion it seemed.

You shift again when you feel his finger dip to your entrance, collecting your arousal and swirling it around. A small whine falls from your throat as he looks up at you, eyes dancing with mirth. Fuck, he is loving this.

“What, do you want more?” He asks, playing innocent, his breaths coming out in heavy bursts, telling you he is just as affected as you.

You nod and you feel him push one of his long fingers inside of you. Your walls spasm around the digit uncontrollably. The pleasure is imminent as he begins to curl his digit slowly against your sensitive walls and you moan again. Taeyong joins you, moaning loudly as he captures your mouth in another messy kiss, your tongues tangling together, his free hand gripping your hip as you thread your fingers entirely into his hair, anchoring him to you.

After a couple more snaps of his wrist you feel him bring another finger to your entrance and you hold your breath as he pushes inside, the stretch wonderfully pleasurable as you cry against his lips, to which he swallows each beautiful noise.

“Ah, Taeyong,” you moan. “Right there, please don’t stop.” You beg as his fingers brush against your g-spot and he pulls away from you, looking down at your bodies as he continues to finger you, taking sharp intakes of breath as he concentrates on pleasuring you good.

“I love it when you say my name,” he utters.

And you are saying it, the syllables falling from your lips like a mantra and as you close your eyes you feel him kiss just under your ear, his laboured breathing sending shivers up your spine as he begins to suck on your earlobe, nibbling on the soft flesh teasingly.

“You sound so beautiful,” he comments, his voice hush, a low growl. “You look so beautiful."

He pins you down using his crotch, pushing his thigh into yours and your belly flips in fresh pleasure, feeling how hard he is again.

You open your eyes and look between your bodies, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sight. You could tell Taeyong knows you are close. “That’s it, babe,” he husks. “Let go for me, I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”

You shut your eyes again, tight as they can go, letting Taeyong’s voice echo in your brain. It is so hot to hear these words coming from him, his usual calm and polite demeanour lightyears away from this, and you moan quietly, in between sighs of his name as he helps you see stars.

“Cum on my hand, baby… C’mon,” he urgs, his voice sugary sweet in the shell of your ear and that is all you need to hear before your orgasm tore through your body.

You are aware you are maybe being a little too loud, but you don't care. The sensation is strong and you gasp for breath as the pleasure ebbes slowly out of your body, aware that Taeyong is watching your every expression as you come around.

He gives you a moment so you can come back from high and he plants kisses on your chest.

Taeyong gives his cock a few jerks as he watches you turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

When his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Taeyong slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Oh fuck, yeah... just like that. Shit."

Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Taeyong holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

Taeyong lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. "Fuck fuck fuck. I'm so c-"

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Taeyong slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically.

He whispers, cumming inside of you. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.Breathless, you stare at him. "Taeyong..."

"Yeah?" He lays next you.

"That was so good," you run a hand through your hair. "So good."

He smirks. "I know."

(...)

You eye the roses placed within the glass vase situated in the center of the table. The Elie Saab gown that hugs your body has everyone's eyes on you.  

This gala is for the Magazine's Anniversary, people from different parts of the world are there and none of them can't stop congratulating you for the great work you are doing.

Taeyong and Doyoung are wearing matching red suit bows and they seem very pleased to be talking with Kim Lee, a beautiful fashion blogger. She is gorgeous and her dress is sexily revealing. You understand why your two boyfriends are too focused on her. Or her tits.

You feel a bit jealous but since they are too busy with Kim, you can also make yourself busy. You grab two glasses of champagne and walk to Yuta, the editor of the magazine in Japan.

Yuta is beautiful, you cannot deny it. His facial features are soft. Sharp cheekbones and his body is thinned out, but you can notice his defined muscles underneath his suit.

You place a hand on his shoulder to call his attention and he turns to you. He smiles. "Hey you. You disappeared."

"Sorry about that. I had to greet more people," you apologise. "Want a glass of champagne?"

"Of course," he says and you hand him a glass. He grabs it and has a sip. "The party is amazing. I love it."

You smirk. "Thank you so much. I'm happy you made it."

One of the corners of his lips lifts. "I would have never missed one of your parties, miss (Y/L/N)."

He's flirting. You know it. And you don't mind since Doyoung and Taeyong's eyes are still focused on Kim Lee, all smiley.

You give a gentle smile. "Just (Y/N), please."

He nods. "Okay, (Y/N)." Yuta winks at you. "By the way, you look incredible tonight. Respectfully, of course."

You beam. "Thank you, but please stop complimenting me. I'm blushing."

He chuckles. "There's no way I can't stop complimenting such a beautiful woman like you."

Across the room, Doyoung hears your laughter and he looks for you; you are standing in front of Yuta, who is watching you like his last meal. While laughing, you put a hand on his shoulder which makes Doyoung enraged. Something's snappening inside of him.

Why the hell are you flirting with another man? Taeyong seems to realize where Doyoung's gaze is focused and frowns. He then laughs. "I can't believe she's giving us a taste of your own medicine."

Doyoung runs a hand through his hair. "I hope she still has energy when we get home."

Taeyong cocks an eyebrow. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see," Doyoung looks at him.

(...)

You leave Yuta alone again so you can go to the restroom. As you're fixing your makeup in front of the mirror, someone enters and locks the door. You turn just to see a not very pleased Doyoung walking to you. You smile. "You're in the wrong restroom, sweetie."

He tilts his head to the side, watching you. "You know why I'm here, love."

You shake your head, playing dumb. "Is something wrong?"

Doyoung sighs, irritated. He walks close to you a few steps and when he's close enough to you, he grabs your chin lifting it up, so your eyes are at his level. "You're fucking mine, (Y/N). Do you get it? I hated seeing you flirting with that asshole."

You bite your lip, looking at him playfully. "I was just doing what you were doing, sweetie."

He groans and clenches your jaw a little, not so much as to hurt it. You whimper. Then Doyoung groans, releasing you. "Just wait until we get home."

"Why don't you show me here?" You put your arms around his neck. "I'm horny. Yuta got me horny." You tease.

Doyoung growls and by the next second, you are pinned to a wall with Doyoung's hands on your waist, his grip is strong. "Don't fucking push me or I'll fuck your soul out right here."

"Then do it," you lick your lips.

Doyoung keeps a hand firmly pressed on your waist. He pulls you flat against him and stares down at you

Your hands run up his chest, feeling each curve through his tuxedo. You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him down to let your lips meet.

Doyoung moves his lips against yours, roughly. He roughly sucks your bottom lip between his before pulling away. "You're lucky you're wearing that long dress."

You pout. "I can bend over."

He giggles and places kisses on your neck. "Save that energy for tonight because you're not getting any sleep. I promise," he whispers to your ear and you gulp because Doyoung always keeps his promises.

#taeyong imagine #taeyong smut #taeyong x reader #doyoung smut #doyoung imagine #doyoung x reader #dotae smut #dotae x reader #yuta smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #nct smut #nct 127 smut

[lookatyoustrawberrynerd]

Forgiven - Gajeel X Levy

WARNINGS: Light swearing

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

GENRE: fluff, slight angst

FANDOM: Fairy Tail

PAIRING: Gajeel x Levy

The guild hall was loud and rowdy as ever as Gajeel sat alone at the bar, drinking whatever the hell Mira had put in his mug. It didn't matter to him as long as it got him drunk.

"Getting a head start today are we?" Gajeel turned around and saw the small master of Fairy Tail climbing into the stool next to him.

Gajeel chuckled as he took another swig, "It's gonna take a lot more than this to get me drunk, old man."

"Oh I don't doubt it," Makarov replied. He signaled for Mira to pour him a drink, then promptly chugged it down as if it were nothing but water. "Your tolerance must be impeccable if this is what you're putting away this early in the morning."

Gajeel smirked, "years of practice."

The two men chuckled as they drank together, falling into a comfortable silence as the guild hall roared behind them.

A small pair of arms wrapped themselves around Gajeels shoulders as a kiss was planted on his cheek. Gajeel turned his head to face his bright eyed girlfriend Levy.

Gajeel couldn't help the smile that came to his face every time he saw her. "Hey short stack," He said as he gave her a quick peck on the lips.

Levy ignored the nickname, "Me and the guys are heading out on a job for a few days."

Gajeel grunted, "is anyone else going?"

Levy shook her head, "No, but the job isn't that dangerous. Just a simple escort mission for a Lord and his daughter."

"Still, I'd feel better if you took Lily with you," Levy puffed our her cheeks.

"I can h-"

"Trust me Lev, I know you're capable of kicking so serious ass, it's the other two I don't trust." Gajeel looked behind Levy at Jet and Droy stuffing their faces.

Levy sighed, "fine, you big baby."

"That's my girl." Gajeel leaned in to whisper in Levy's ear, "I'll make it up to you when you get back."

He couldn't help but laugh as his girlfriend turned bright red in front of him. "I-I gotta go now!" Levy gave Gajeel a chaste kiss on the lips. He watched her as she met the black exceed by the door.

"Hey," Gajeel called out to Jet and Droy before they could join them. They walked over to Gajeel who then grabbed them both by the wrist and pulled them in close. "If she comes back with a single scratch," he hissed, "I will put you two in a fucking coffin."

Jet and Droy both shivered as they nodded frantically. Gajeel let go of them and they practically ran out of the guild hall. Sighing, Gajeel turned back around to take a drink, already missing his girlfriend.

"I must say Gajeel," The master started, "when I first took you in, I never would have imagined you would have fallen for my little Levy."

A faint blush dusted over his cheeks, "Well," He didn't like thinking about his time before Fairy Tail, the person he was, but he couldn't help it as the memories came back, "I was a real piece of shit back then."

He didn't realize how hard he was gripping the handle of his mug until he let go of it, revealing dents in the shape of his fingers.

"Shit," he muttered as Mira came up to grab the mug from him, "I'll buy you a new one."

Mira just laughed it off, "No need Gajeel. If we had to replace every dented mug in this place, we'd go bankrupt!"

"Mira, could you give us a minute?" Makarov asked. Nodding, Mira walked into the back room, leaving the two men alone at the bar.

"I was wondering when you were gonna cut to the chase," Gajeel said.

"Yes, but I believe it is you with something to say, my boy." The two men sat there in silence for a few seconds before the master asked, "Can I see it?"

The box in Gajeels pocket suddenly felt like a weight dragging him down. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the box and slid it to the old man next to him, careful to not let anyone see it.

Makarov pulled back the lid to reveal a small iron ring. Intricate designs of swirls carved to look like vines and flowers decorated its sides, meeting in the middle to hold a heart shaped diamond.

"How did you know?" Gajeel asked.

"I know a lot of things, Gajeel. I just happened to catch you staring at it when you think no one is watching." Makarov said as he twisted the box around to look at the ring from all angles.

Gajeel nearly choked on his drink, "fuck," he muttered. The master chuckled and clapped Gajeel on the back.

"It's a beautiful ring Gajeel," he said, sliding the ring back to him. "You must love her a great deal."

Gajeel smiled softly, "Yeah," he looked at the ring and closed the lid with a sigh. "I don't deserve her."

"How so?"

"Are you serious?" Gajeel asked, but Makarov stayed silent. Softly, Gajeel said, "I hurt her."

Makaraov hummed in acknowledgement, "So that's it huh?" Memories flooded into Gajeels mind. Him attacking her that night, the way she screamed, her nearly lifeless body hanging from that god damned tree. Gajeel swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.

"I hurt her, Master. I hurt her and her friends and laughed about it, bragged about it. But the moment I joined the guild, she treated me like nothing had ever happened. I wasn't 'Black Steel Gajeel', I was just Gajeel Redfox. If I'm being honest, it kinda pissed me off."

The master hummed, "Really?"

"Yeah," he replied, "it pissed me off because I had no idea why she would even bother being nice to me. I wouldn't have been. But of course, she's just that wildly forgiving of other people. I didn't deserve her forgiveness, and that's why it pissed me off."

"You have long since been forgiven for your sins of the past, Gajeel" The master said. Gajeel whipped his head to face him.

"What?"

"Do you know why I chose to recruit you instead of the other members of Phantom Lord?" Makarov asked and Gajeel shook his head. There was no hint of sarcasm or condescension in his voice, just plain sincerity. "I picked you because not just because I wanted to help you find the right path, but because I knew that it was possible. I saw a light in you that had been clouded by Jose and his teachings. The things you did were deplorable, and you know that more than anyone, but answer me this. Would you have done the things you did that night if Jose hadn't ordered you to?"

No. He wouldn't have. He didn't even go as far as he was supposed to that night. Jose had ordered him to kill Levy, Jet, and Droy, but he refused.

Makarov continued on, "Ever since I took you in, you have done nothing but prove me right. You have shown that you are willing to fight for your family and that you're proud to be a fairy, and we're proud to have you."

Gajeel looked around the guild hall as he processed the masters words. He looked at the people he had met over the past several years, and he realized he was proud. He had made legitimate friends in a guild he once tried to destroy and fell in love with a girl he had almost killed.

All those nice thoughts however couldn't stop the doubt from creeping into his mind. "Even still, I can't provide for her. It took me months to work enough jobs to even buy the materials for that ring, and it's not like those jobs were easy."

"You and I both know she doesn't care about that."

"But I do master!" Gajeel slammed his fist on the bar a little louder than he wanted to. Some people looked their way for a moment but quickly resumed doing whatever it was they were doing. "She deserves the world, but I simply can't give it to her."

Makarov took another swig of his drink, "You're right. She does deserve the world. But she wants you," He stood up on the bar stool and made eye contact with the man across from him. "We all have our demons, Gajeel. We all have scars that will never fade, those voices in our heads that tell us to just give up and that we'll never be good enough. But you are lucky enough to have a family that will support you in every choice you make, and a woman who loves you with her entire heart.

"You will have to live with the things you have done for the rest of your life. You cannot go back and undo it no matter how much you wish you could. What you can do is live every day showing how much you've grown. You have atoned for your sins. Levy, Jet, and Droy have forgiven you. I have forgiven you. Now you must work to forgive yourself. And if you never do, that's okay. Just don't let it stop you from living your new life.

"Never forget Gajeel that you deserve happiness just as much as everyone else under this roof. If that means a future with Levy, then I will spend every remaining second I have left ensuring that future comes to pass, and every second after that protecting it. On my honor as the master of the Fairy Tail guild."

Gajeel didn't know at what point he had started crying. No one had ever told him that he deserved to be happy, but here was someone saying it as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.

"Master I-"

"Do you love her, Gajeel?" Makarov asked.

In that moment, Gajeel saw Levys face. Her bright smile, her eyes that always sparkled, her blue hair that reminded him of the sky, the way she puffed her cheeks whenever he teased her.

He remembered all their missions together, their time in the military, all the times they had nearly died; Tenrou Island, Tartaros, Alvarez, he had never felt fear the way he did when he was confessing to Levy as he was slowly dying, and the pure elation he felt when he finally saw her again.

He thought about what he wanted in the future, and in his mind he saw Levy in a white dress walking down the aisle. He saw with a hand on her rounded stomach. He saw her reading to their children and him singing to them. He saw them growing old and gray together. His heart swelled with emotions he had never felt before as he looked into the future.

Every day he wakes up to Levy lying next to him, and he always thinks that he'll never be able to fall for her more than he already has, and every day he is proven wrong.

Gajeel smiled as he wiped away a tear from his face, "more than anything."

Makarov returned his smile, "Then marry her Gajeel. You have my blessing. Make a family with her. Make a life that both of you can be proud of living. Make her as happy as she makes you." Makarov held out his hand and Gajeel took it in his.

"I promise I will," Another tear fell down his face, "Thank you master."

"You're welcome, my son."

#Gajeel #gajeel x levy #Fairy tail #Gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #fanfiction #writing #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fluff and romance #romance #marriage #oneshot #fairy tail one shot #gajevy one shot

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: coming clean Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: You try to push him away from you but he isn’t taking any of it, the much long-awaited confrontation is there but you’re still finding a way out.

notes:

have yall seen the new season?? mY FUCKING HEART MAN NSNDNND it got me so stoked i literally wrote something about kita after that trailer skdjjdm kita is so underrated. I love him.

also, a huge thank you for the 200+ followers. Ma’am i literally only had this tumbler a month ago and im already celebrating a lot of milestones, hence i present you a more angsty chapter! I hope you’ll love it <3

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“You’re on gossip sites.” 

“Tsum-tsum, why are you so close to L/N-san? I thought you hated her.”

“Riku-chan’s calling me-”

“Everyone shut up.” The setter throws the ball on the ground, “It’s not what it fucking looked like.”

“Can we talk, ‘tsumu?” Osamu’s voice resonates the most and Miya Atsumu knows where this is going already by the sound of it.  He was surprised to see his brother come by today but when he sees why, he takes it back.

No wonder.

He follows him to the quieter side of the gym, he notices the tense air between them and he knows what's about to follow. He hopes that Osamu does this quickly, he has to practice well since he needs to impress those brats when the game comes up and try to let them have their eyes on him and not on Tobio and Shoyo.

“What the hell are you thinking?” His brother growls, “You have a fucking girlfriend. Y/N has kids and is very much in love with the dead guy who isn’t yo-”

“Why the fuck are you all getting up my ass when its about Y/N?” he suddenly cuts his brother off, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, “It's been that way since you met her eight years ago. Just tell me that you didn’t like her from the start. You didn’t like her because she was different.”

“I didn’t like her because she wasn’t good for you.” the grey-haired twin barked back in reply, “In case ya don’t remember, You were a fucking mess after she left, Atsumu. You were almost not able to make it into the jackals because of what she did!”

Osamu wasn’t calling him by his nickname anymore, it seemed that the weight of the situation was too serious for him.

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I?”

“And you’re getting involved with her again. Can’t you give it a fucking rest already?” 

“No.”

“Miya Atsumu.” He glowered, grabbing his brother by the collar of his jersey, “Don’t throw a good woman and your career away for someone like her.”

“I’m not throwing shit, ‘samu.” He hissed, slapping his hand away but before he could walk out, the younger twin grabs him and yanks him back, swinging a fist right at his face. The team members of the black jackals are immediately thrown into panic and chaos with what’s happening. Hinata and Bokuto grabs onto Osamu restraining him from damaging the setter even more while Shion and Meian hold back the blonde setter from throwing a punch, “Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat, ‘tsumu.” The twin yelled while Atsumu flipped him off with a middle finger, clearly showing no signs of restraint. 

Sakusa remains far from them and snorts underneath his breath, completely indifferent,  “Fuckin’ idiots.”

The twins end up at the infirmary right after, Atsumu lets out a heavy sigh as he recalls the feeling of his brothers fist. They’ve never fought this bad since high school and Osamu was never one to be triggered easily.

This just showed how grave the situation was.

A curtain separates them both as they lay on their separate beds, “You’re stupid, ‘tsumu.” Osamu calls out his twin as he lays on the bed of the infirmary, a patch on his forehead and a bandaged hand. Atsumu, on the other hand, has a busted lip and swollen cheek.

“I’m not fucking five, ‘samu and whatever you saw in that picture wasn’t what it looked like.”

“But you still love her very much.” 

Silence ensued between the pair and Osamu breaks it off with a long sigh, “Ya gonna be some scrub that chases after her again or something? Break off with your girlfriend right now who looks and acts better than her-”

“Stop.” Atsumu cuts his brother off, sitting up to open the curtain to face him head on, “so, so what if I still like her? So what if I want to break off with Riku and be with her and try to take that bastards place?”

“Yer outta your mind.”

“It’s my fuckin’ life.”

“It is but I’m not watching you throw yourself away for that woman.” Osamu paused, “Just what the fuck do you see in her? She feels nothing for ya, even when you dated-”

“Now that’s a fucking lie.” Atsumu defended you, eyes glowering right at his twin, “You didn’t see how Y/N would take care of me whenever we were alone. You don’t see how selfless she was most of the time and how she doesn’t expect me to be some character that everyone expects, shit,  you don’t even see how she’d patiently sit down and just listen me babble off about how bad my day was when I didn’t even know she was from a fucking bad family with a bad life back then!”

Atsumu is panting from that long explanation and he’s shaking because why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they see how much you tried back then? How relationships were so out of your comfort zone but you force yourself to try it because he asked you too. He feels sick, he feels sick that they couldn’t see. That they could only see the tip of the iceberg.

“Yet she doesn’t feel the same for you.” Osamu points out,  “Not anymore. So stop clinging onto her with those past memories of yours and move on, ‘tsumu. Fuckin’ suck it up, life isn’t fair.”

“Nope, don’t wanna.”

“ ‘tsumu-”

“I-I’m breaking up with Riku. I want Y/N back in my life, I want her. I-I’ve never wanted anything so badly since volleyball, ‘samu. If I have to wait again, shit, I-I don’t fucking mind.”

Osamu sees the glint of conviction in his eyes and lets out another hefty sigh, god, he feels like he’s aging faster because of his twin, “I know you won’t listen to me.” he settled, he knew that if Atsumu wanted something, he wouldn’t stop until he got it, “Just know that I fucking told you so.”

You’re wary.

After that little stint your mother had pulled, she kept calling you and bothering you. It also didn’t help that you ended up on tabloids because someone had caught wind of that little moment you and Atsumu had. If it weren’t for your kids' over-excitement on Atsumu’s promise, you wouldn’t be here, “...Y/N-san? Are you alright?” Sugawara asks, tilting his head in curiosity as you enter the arena.

Some people seemed to have recognized you and the kids that you had to hold onto them tightly in case anyone did try to approach you.

“I’m good.” 

“Kaasan, kaasan, I saw a super big picture of Hinata-san!” Youta called out, pointing at a rather big banner of the orange-haired blocker.

“I think I saw Kageyama-san buying milk, can I follow him, kaasan?” Yuuto adds, blinking innocently as he looked at one of the stalls.

Sugawara is absolutely in awe by your calmness in this situation, he knows that you’re probably feeling far from alright after all those gossip articles came out. Atsumu, of course, tries to lessen your burden by letting out a public statement that you were his good friend back in college but it didn’t really help since someone tweeted a picture of the both of you back in college with the caption that you were exes.

“Could you do me a favor, Sugawara-san?” you turn to the man, “Do you mind switching seats with me? Stay with the boys in front while I just stay at your seat?”

“Sure but wouldn’t Atsumu be-”

“Please.” You frowned, giving your ticket to him, “I’ll take the kids right after the match.”

The boys looked at you in complete wonderment when you didn’t follow them to the front row. You maintained a good distance as the game started, the players being introduced on the big screen. Your eyes narrow when Atsumu gets out of the dugout and gazes at your kids in confusion then around the crowd as if he was looking for someone.

“Don’t be silly.What feelings would there be but hatred?”

“It’s anything but that, L/N-san.” 

You felt your fists clench as soon as the game started, you wanted to direct your focus to the game but Inunaki’s words kept bothering you and pestering you throughout the whole thing. Why did Atsumu like doing this to himself? Was this some sort of premonition? Were you going to have to tell him?

What if it ended up like your parents?

Would your kids end up like you?

Cold, untrusting, and anxious?

Would you end up like your mother?

A borderline alcoholic, desperate for a man’s love?

Would Atsumu wake up and realize one day that this was all a mistake and call you one too? Blaming you for every single bad thing in his life?

You held your doll tightly on your hands as you held your breath behind the pillar, you had just come home from Daiki’s house as you heard the loud voices of your parents arguing again. For the past years, it seemed to have worsened and you spent more time around your friend’s house rather than this cold and big empty place you called home.

“...are you doing? It's the middle of the day! Stop drinking!” you hear your father bellow.

“What’s it to you? Shouldn’t you be around with that young woman? That whore you proudly call your business associate?” 

You flinch as you hear those harsh words and the sound of a bottle breaking, it seemed like the argument was particularly bad today. You shakily make your way up to your room, wanting to avoid this ordeal and skip dinner but fate wasn’t on your side today. 

Despite your light footsteps, they seem to have noticed your presence.

Your father’s eyes soften just a bit while your mother’s remain cold. As much as possible, you grew up wanting to avoid those scary and expressionless eyes. At the young age of five, you feared your mother and loathed your father at the same time but that didn’t stop the fleeting feeling of wanting them to change. Wanting to feel the warmth and youth that every child craved for.

You suck in a deep breath, “I-I’m home, okaasan, otosan.”

“You’re always out these days, Y/N.” her voice is cold, far from the warmth that a mother should have.

“I-I was out with Daiki.”

“With that boy again?” a frown immediately paints her features, a small tsk under her breath to signal how disappointed she was of you yet again, “Aren’t you supposed to be studying? You said you wanted to skip a grade this year.”

“I-I am.” you replied, “B-but Daiki-”

“All you need to do is study and get good grades, Y/N.” she cuts you off, walking close to you, the smell of alcohol growing stronger, “Is that something too hard to do? Are you being ungrateful now?”

You turn to your father for help but he remains unmoved, was he really going to watch your mother do this to you? You hold onto your doll tightly, trying to control yourself. You shouldn’t cry, especially not in front of them. 

“N-No, okaasan…”

“Then why are you crying, Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you feel the wet substance flowing down. No, no-

“Answer me.” she repeats, you feel the tears flowing down faster, “Why are you crying, Y/N? Are you feeling ungrateful? Is that how it is-”

“(M/N) That’s enough!” Your father finally says but your mother continues to ignore your father.

“Don’t you think we should tell her that she shouldn’t feel sad?” she expressed, telling your father as if you weren’t standing there, “After all, we didn’t have her aborted, she should be grateful we let her live well with three meals a day and expensive clothes and belongings. Even if she was a mistake.”

You're shaking so hard at the moment, you didn’t like where this was going at all. Your father can’t respond to your mother’s blank tone, did he agree too? Were you, were you really just a mistake? Countless questions flooded your head as she walked close to you, her cold presence looming over you even more so today. With the same blank and expressionless tone, she says, "if you probably hadn't been born, we would've been happier. We'd have better lives, Y/N. So don't go around and cry and think you got it bad, you hear me? Your sadness is nothing compared to ours. It's nothing, Y/N. So stop being ungrateful."

You watch as the game comes to an end. You had zone out for the most part, the fleeting memory of your past and your anxiety bubbling up couldn’t keep you still. You texted Sugawara that you’d meet him and the boys at the front.

You were about to leave your seat when you saw the blonde approach the kids after the game, ruffling their hairs and pinching their cheeks with a huge smile. Why couldn’t you be as open as Atsumu? Why couldn’t you express yourself well? 

You shut your eyes tight and turn to the exit, right, you were a coward. You didn’t face things like this head-on, you ran from them because in all your life, the only thing you knew was fear from people you expected love from.

“Y/N…” 

You turn to find Atsumu standing there, still in his jersey and a towel hung on his shoulder like he had just ran out to chase you. Where was Sugawara and the kids? Why weren’t they here yet? What is he even doing here? You grab his wrist and immediately pull him towards a private area.

“Are you out of your mind? What are you doing? You have a girlfrie-”

“We broke up.” he cuts you off.

“W-what?” 

“We broke up.” He repeats, “I couldn’t stay with her anymore, Y/N.”

You clenched your fists, what was he even thinking? Wouldn’t the rumors worsen if he broke up with her now?

“I-I can’t let you go again.” Atsumu confessed, throwing all his pride out the window again for you because damn it all, you are worth it,  “I can’t keep pretending that I’ve moved on when I’m clearly hung up on you.”

“What are you doing?” You spat, anger slowly creeping in, all the pent up emotion towards him being released, “Why would you do that?”

Atsumu notices the change of emotion, you’re getting angry. It’s a complete contrast to what he was expecting, he’d expect the calm and cool exterior, even expected you to cooly reject him like the past but this, this was new, “Why can’t I?”

“Are you out of your mind?” You exclaimed, “I left you! I have kids from another man-”

“So?” He asks, walking closer to you. The familiar smell of perfume and sweat invaded your senses, something you were accustomed to when you were dating him back then. He traps you between the wall and him. You can see the busted lip, what happened to him? Did he got into a fight? You feel like your mind was turning blank by the sudden events. You want to say something, anything but he’s rendering you speechless again, “What if I tell you I don’t care? What if I tell you that I still feel the same even after all this time?”

“Y-You're insane...I-I’m in love with someone else-” you tried to lie but you remember this is Miya Atsumu, he doesn’t give two shits and was willing to work as hard as he could to get what he wanted.

“Y/N, your kids told me that the bastard left. Why didn’t you tell me?” he cuts you off, this time, his voice seemed disappointed and angry yet you didn't know if it was towards you.

“W-what would you have done then?”

“If you’d come back to me then,” he paused, voice turning soft, “I would’ve helped you. I would’ve been there to stand in as a father if you even needed one.”

You’re trembling at his confession, were those words really from the heart? 

“Y/N, I don’t know what happened between you and that guy.” he laughs, he didn’t expect it to be like this, that even after six years he’d still be pinning over the same woman who repeatedly broke his heart, “I don’t know what happened between you and your fucked-up family. All I do know is that I’m still in love with you and I’m willing to wait here until you’re ready. I won’t ever leave, Y/N. I-I don’t think I ever will.”

“You’re crazy.” You shakily point out, you’re in a fit of rage. You’re angry at him, you’re angry that he still lowers himself to you when he could do so much better, you’re angry that he still feels the same after all the shit you put him through, most of all, you’re angry at yourself because you couldn’t own up and tell him about everything.

Atsumu slowly holds up his hands, wanting to cup your cheeks but it is immediately swatted away. He notices that you’re trembling now, your facade, slowly crumbling.

“What made you think that I’d come back to you?” Your voice was trying to maintain it’s cold and emptiness tone yet your eyes showed the complete opposite, “Please be selfish for once, Miya-san. Just because you give your all to me, does not mean I’ll return it. I hope I really don’t see you again.”

taglist [taglists are sadly closed now, thanks guys <3]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ;  @svtbitch  ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff  ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046  ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward​ ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft​ ; @tspice283​ ; @ohshirabu​

@misosamu  @Etherynaw  @ryaaaax @differentballooncollection @keniloveshaikyuu @allysasteaparty   @syzygymai [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #coward series #haikyuu atsumu #miya twins

[opheliasbrokenmind]

heartbreaker - tommy shelby

hiiii, i’m back on my obsession with this man... i was going to write something short but then i couldn’t control myself and this happened. let me know your thoughts, feedback is always welcomed <3 

and idk what kind of writing is this, since i find it hard & scary to write a full one shot but i know this isn’t a hc or drabble as well, i only hope you enjoy it :)) and i’m free for three weeks and i’m waiting for your tommy requests as always

gif is not mine, credits to the owner

being the most reckless teenage girl in small heath, it wasn’t a surprise you hung out with the blue-eyed princess, ada shelby

it all started when you were barely ten, going to the same school

soon you were sharing a desk and tons of laughs

even the teachers failed to make you silent. if they tried to separate you two, you’d cause a huge mess in the classroom

spending time at shelbys after a long school day, chatting all afternoon in her room, ada complaining about her brothers and you giggling at her words

one day you laid your hands on a book and it was it, you were telling stories to ada all day long

you started talking about how small the small heath really was, a tiny world which you decided to leave the first chance you got

then you were fifteen, a young soul with wildness, searching for every kind of trouble possible 

ada on your arm, going on dates with boys you knew from school, sneaking out all the time

but ada wasn’t the same, thanks to her overprotective brothers. they believed you were a bad influence for her but your souls were bonded

and that never stopped john from taking you out a night, getting you a drink and kissing your lips 

you weren’t looking for a strong relationship and neither did he so it was just a few days and a few more kisses, none of the family members knowing it - or you both thought that

you were hanging out with a boy for a few months, then you were over it in a day. next week, you were going to pictures with another guy, laughing and enjoying your life

ada insisted you spent many nights with her, you girls talking about everything and by the time you were seventeen, you thought her older brother tommy looked quite good

one night you woke up, walking downstairs to have a glass of water and there he was, sipping tea in the middle of the night

‘what are you doing, tom?’ you asked, your eyes still trying to adjust to the light as you frowned, wondering if something was wrong

‘i’m thinking. care to join me for a cup of tea?’ he suggested and well, who were you to say no?

you took the chair next to him and watched him bringing you a cup and pouring you hot tea. the view seemed and felt too regular to you, you’ve seen him doing the same for his siblings for thousand times

just before you reached for the sugar, he leaned forward and put the exact amount of sugar you used. you didn’t say anything as he looked at you, you watched his fingers holding the hot cup, knuckles almost white

‘what are you thinking?’ you asked shyly, you weren’t so close with him unlike other shelbys. john was a friend, arthur was like a brother but tommy? you didn’t know what was he to you

he was the brother who tried to keep ada on the line and you were the distracter. the young, reckless friend filled with passion for everything. you were excited about books, boys and anything life had to offer you

‘the war, the soldiers’ he said like he was talking about the weather

‘what? you’re not thinking about going there, are you?’ you frowned immediately, leaning in to look directly into his eyes

‘i don’t know, feels like i should be there like the other boys’ he said the truth and you grabbed his wrist, an annoyed look plastered on your face ‘are you serious? don’t act like a fool, tom’

his name sounded harsh on your lips, like the times he spotted you and ada at the pub, taking you back home as you resisted. even though he was seven years older than you, you were never afraid to say his name as you wished

‘do you think it’s a joke, y/n?’ he asked, his blue orbs focused on you, ignoring your glued fingers on his arm

‘your family needs you here, not in a shithole in france. you’ll go there and what? that’ll prove something to the people? or you’ll end up as a man with no grave? leaving these people here just with pain?’ you hissed, glaring at him as you let go of his arm

‘you speak like i don’t care about them. i want to protect this country so they’ll be safe’ he explained calmly

‘you can’t leave them’ you said but it came out as a whisper, you almost said ‘us’ instead of ‘them’. tommy watched you staring at the tea and he tried to guess what was going on inside your head

‘as if you like me, y/n’ he faked a smile in an attempt to cheer you a bit but it only made you angrier, ‘fuck you, tom’ you hoped he didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks and turned your head away from him

‘that’s not what you’ve said to john, huh?’ he couldn’t control the words so when you heard him, your lips parted with surprise. ‘i don’t have to defend myself to you, that was two years ago’

‘i saw you two, then you broke his heart’ he let it out and you didn’t know what to say, ‘it wasn’t something serious and that was before martha, he looks very happy now’

‘that’s just what you do, right? breaking hearts and moving on’ his words caught you off guard and you thought he was trying to change the war subject. if he wanted to argue, you were up for it

‘it’s not my problem if boys are that fragile. maybe they should, you know, grow up’ you said simply, waiting for another smart answer

‘grow up and what, break your heart?’ he asked back and you found yourself smiling, ‘oh, no. i’m the heartbreaker here. they should look for a girl who’ll marry them and stand them’

‘wise words for a little girl’ he said as he smiled, a real one this time. ‘little girl? i’m almost eighteen and i remember, your girlfriend isn’t too older than me’ with the mention of greta, his smile fell off and you could tell something was wrong

‘what’s wrong, is she okay?’ you asked and waited impatiently for an answer. ‘she’s sick, i-’ he stopped and shook his head slowly, ‘i don’t know what to do, she’s not getting better, just worse and.. her parents don’t let me see her’

‘i’m so sorry’ you managed to say and when he looked at you, he knew you meant it. ‘why didn’t you tell....’ you were going to ask if the other shelbys knew but it sounded ridiculous in your head

‘i don’t know how to. whatever, i shouldn’t have told you, too’

‘you know, i’m not your enemy. yet it looks like you’re searching for more, huh?’ he was thinking of an answer but you weren’t waiting for one, you got up and walked to the stairs, leaving him with his thoughts

that was the last time tommy saw you, you disappeared for the next days and soon he found out from ada, your aunt passed away and you moved to london with your mom

unlike her shy, sweet sister greta, kitty jurossi was outgoing and she happened to be a friend of a friend of yours. before you left for london, you managed to persuade your mother to go and speak to her family

with that, tommy shelby was allowed to stand by his first love and hold her hand for three months until she closed her eyes and never opened them again

days after her funeral, he’d learn the reason why her parents let him stay with her. then he signed up for war, leaving without looking back. in the end, there was nothing for him to stay

meanwhile, you were discovering the london, meeting with new people and trying not to think of small heath. of course, you were missing your best friend but ada and you both knew you’d escape the small town with the first chance you got

ada’s response to your letter arrived months later, letting you know greta was dead and the shelby men were in france, fighting for the king

it made you sick for days, unfamiliar nausea bothering you all day, making your whole body ache. you were worried for the shelby men you grew up with and for the women waiting for their family

the war continued mercilessly and at some point you even thought about writing the boys a letter but you didn’t know what to say after leaving them without a word

then it was all over. ada wrote to you, telling you they all returned yet everything was different now. the way tommy turned and the lack of sincerity in john’s smiles. he used to laugh, you thought

you were living on your own in london when you got another letter from ada, it was bad news. apparently freddie was dead, which made you cry on the carpet on your hallway, remembering the boy ada used to talk about years ago. ‘now it’s just me and karl, y/n. i’m leaving this hell, probably coming to london’

but she forgot to give you a new address and you never dared to write to shelbys, asking about ada. you guessed they didn’t hear from her as well, since she left with a broken heart and rage

one day you couldn’t find a book at the bookshop so you made your way to the library, looking for a worker to help you. there she was, the best friend you ever had

‘ada?’ you asked and it was it, you were reunited. spending days talking about everything that happened after you left with lots of hugs, glasses of wine and cups of tea

you started to spend most of the week at her house and of course, karl loved you. it was as if you never parted away, you were happy again

she learned you were continuing your career as a heartbreaker with londoners. ‘heartbreaker, huh? is there anyone nowadays, y/n sweetheart?’

‘oh no, i used to hang around with a writer. he was saying i was his muse all the time and you know, it’s nice to hear things like that. then he left the fucking country, saying he wasn’t productive with all the noise in the city’

‘someone sounds angry’ she teased and you laughed, ‘i was but i don’t care much. i mean, i couldn’t leave here and move to the countryside, raising chickens. i need the wildness in this crazy city’

soon you were going to the parties together, good looking men and booze surrounding you all the time

it was your birthday when you went to have dinner at a nice restaurant, then met with your other friends in a nightclub

you would say both of you could handle your drinks but when it was almost midnight, you thought ‘fuck it, we can mess for once’ then the rest of it was a little bit blurry

you could remember the girls dropping you to ada’s flat and ada going to her room. you lit a cigarette and once it was finished, you thought how soft was the carpet at the living room. even it was an uncomfortable surface, you slept like a baby

that’s why you didn’t hear the knock on the door. then with a little force, it opened. thomas shelby walked in, cursing underneath his breath 

he stepped in and saw a body laying on the ground, a woman, wearing a short silk dress and tommy walked to her with fear, his heartbeat quickening

then he realised it was you, after all those years. you were breathing, thank god. so he gently shook you, ‘y/n’ your name sounded like a pray on his lips

you sighed and opened your eyes slowly, only to see a man kneeling beside you and that man happened to have a face of a ghost from your past, tommy shelby himself

‘tom?’ you asked and you thought it didn’t feel real. ‘i’m still that drunk, huh?’ you chuckled softly but when you looked again, he was still there

‘it’s not a dream, y/n. i’m here and i see, you haven’t changed, not even a bit’ he sounded kinda angry, frustrated because the state he found you in

you frowned and watched him, ‘and here i was, thinking i got prettier’ he rolled his eyes but soon enough you were both smiling

‘you are’ he let it out and you stared at him, ‘that means i wasn’t pretty back then?’ this time his smile was wider, ‘i didn’t say that’ it was surprising you both, you were talking like you weren’t strangers now

it was weird yet comforting, familiar just like the last time you spoke, years ago. you could see he was a man now, a beautiful one with hands covered with blood you couldn’t see

and there you were, he thought. still a heartbreaker with an angel’s face

#i have no idea what i'm doing #just some tommy fluff (?) to entertain myself #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[illneverrecover]

Take Me to Church (M) | JJK

➛pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

➛genre: gang!AU, tattooed!Jungkook, smut, fluff.

➛word count: 5,114

➛rating: M 

➛warnings: sub/switch Jungkook, power play, praise, body worship, face sitting, oral sex (both giving and receiving), dirty talk, profanity, mentions of weeb JK, unprotected sex, riding, slight cock warming mentions, JK is a soft sweet boy.

➛summary: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk. 

➛notes: MY FIRST EVER COMMISSION! As soon as I mentioned opening commissions, my cherub friends jumped at the chance and sent in several requests, @quinnkoo​ being the first. She asked for sweet soft switchy tattooed Jungkook smut with some power play, and I immediately thought back to the Gang!AU drabble I wrote her last year, and decided to play off of that. It’s not necessary to read that one first, but it’ll give some more back story if you’re curious. Thank you so much, Quinny. I hope you enjoy 🖤

➛song: Church - Fall Out Boy & My Time - BTS  

“Ugh! I’m sick of all this rambling. When’s Kakashi going to come back?” you sigh, head plopping onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You waited a few breaths for his teasing reply - he couldn’t help but to drag you after you revealed your favorite character and your totally normal crush on him - but when it didn’t come, your brow furrowed. 

He had insisted on the marathon of his favorite anime, eyes lighting with childlike glee as he explained the premise, but he had been noticeably quiet the last few episodes.

Something was up.

A wayward glance at Jungkook told you that your suspicions were right; his wide rich amber eyes were facing the screen, but the light behind them was absent. He was chewing his bottom lip, large front teeth poking out every few seconds, the hand not wrapped around you rubbing at one of the tattoos on his forearm. All the telltale signs that something was Bothering Jeon Jungkook™.

It didn’t take long for you to know what was on his mind. Reading him had been something you excelled at since day one, his body an open book that you have delved so deep inside you knew him better than you knew yourself. 

On the outside, Jungkook was the embodiment of the word ‘tough’, which would be fitting of a member of his stature. He was part of the well renowned gang Bangtan, something you had known since the first meeting, and he looked the part - typically dressed in all black, clothes baggy and yet somehow still flattering his lean muscles, ink decorating his arms and neck. A single hoop hung from his nose, messy dark hair hanging low in his eyes - and with one look, it had been over for you. 

But that was only one facet to Jungkook.

On the inside, he was marshmallow, soft and gooey and tooth rotting sweet. The type of man who believes in soulmates, who coos at kittens in store windows, who teared up while watching Frozen II (with an adamant cry of, “babe, Olaf is GONE” when you asked if he was alright). He is so thoughtful, always worrying about everyone else - his brothers, his family, you - before himself. A pure heart of gold wrapped in a deliciously decorated package.

Which is why you knew he was still thinking about what happened the day prior.

It had been such a silly thing, something that you had mentioned once but that he couldn’t get out of his mind, and he had wanted to surprise you. He could barely contain his own excitement when he picked you up, admiring your sundress while his legs bounced with untapped energy, insisting you closed your eyes until you had reached your destination.

The Tea Parlor had been perfect, everything you had imagined when you had casually dropped the idea of high tea to your boyfriend. The room was giant and open, windows taking up all of the walls, light spilling in to make the finery of the tea cups and serving trays glisten. You had squealed with excitement, rushing up to the hostess with a spring in your step, Jungkook giggling as he stepped up behind you.

She was friendly at first, polite smiles and kind eyes, until she heard the name the reservation was under. The minute Jungkook’s name spilled from his lips, the hostess went cold, stiff. Her disgust was blatant as she openly glared at him, gaze dragging up and down his form before doing the same to you. Before you could ask what was wrong, she snatched up the menus, giving a curt “Right this way, Mr. Jeon” before turning on her heel, leading you both to the back of the parlor. 

A warm palm at the small of your back had you turning to look at Jungkook, seeking comfort in his gaze, but instead he was focused on the woman in front of you, eyes arctic and emotionless. He guided you to follow the hostess weaving between tables, and it was only once you were both seated that she addressed him again, voice pitched low. “You may have other people’s respect around here, but not mine. I know who you are and what you do. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Placing a menu down, she turned to face you, vitriol lacing her voice. “You should be, too. Out with a man like this, flaunting yourselves? It’s offensive.” 

You weren’t sure how long you had sat in shocked silence when she made her exit, the menus laying unopened on the table. She had put you in the very back of the room, in a darkened corner, something you would normally disapprove of - but once seeing the look on Jungkook’s face, you were glad not to have an audience. 

“What in the fuck was her problem?” you scoff, reaching a hand to lay on top of his own. “Jungkook, don’t listen to that shit. She has no idea what she’s talking about.” 

He was still silent, his free arm clenching and unclenching slowly on top of the delicate lace tablecloth. He hadn’t looked up at you since the hostess had left, but you could see the unchecked rage sparking his eyes, the calculated way he was chewing his lip. His mind was racing, and you weren’t sure where it would land - but you wanted him to know you were here. 

“We don’t have to stay, babe. We can go somewhere else for high tea,” you murmured, smoothing a thumb over the inked words on his knuckles. “Or, we can go shopping, have our own high tea with unlimited tiny sandwiches and desserts,  where no judgmental bitches are allowed.” 

He snorted then, the corner of his lip turning. “So what, then you won’t come to your own high tea?”

You had flicked his hand then with a laugh, moving to interlace his fingers with your own, and after a few whispered declarations of love, he had lifted you from your seat, stopping to twirl you once before guiding you to the front of the parlor to exit. 

He only turned back once he was sure you were safe outside the door, mumbling a “gimme a minute” before he was darting inside, tall form stalking towards the hostess yet again. You weren’t sure what he had said to the woman, but you could see her face - the fear that pooled in her eyes - and you knew it was enough. 

It had been two days since the incident, and Jungkook had been off since. Instead of any usual errands, he had holed you both up in the apartment, nesting and appeasing you with copious cheese snacks and shirtless cuddles on the couch. You had tried to gently ask if he wanted to talk more about it, prompt him in quiet moments and in the protection of your arms, but he always skirted around it, insisting everything was fine, instead pulling you in for a kiss and a reminder that he loves you. 

It made your heart ache, to see the man that you love so much, the twin flame to your soul feel like he couldn’t open up, couldn’t untangle the threads in his mind. He was always worrying about you, taking extra precautions in his work and personal life to ensure your safety, and you found yourself wishing desperately that he would let you take care of him for once.

He had never been good at keeping his emotions hidden. 

You turn your eyes to the screen once more, catching the end of the episode, the screen cutting to black just as Naruto yells “I’ll never let my comrades die!”, which was a pretty good sign that you had been spacing out in thought for longer than you meant to. As the ending credits played, you nudged Jungkook with your shoulder, turning to face him.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, it’s just - I gave you the perfect opener to roast me about my love for Kakashi and you didn’t take the bait,” swinging your legs into his lap, you move your arms to drape loosely around his neck. “Didn’t even blink. Doesn’t sound like the Jungkook I know.” 

He hums then, palming your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why?”

Internally, you sighed. You knew this wasn’t the case, but it also seemed that every attempt to discuss things had been thwarted by the beautiful man one way or another. You needed him to feel ready to open up, to feel vulnerable - and as you stared at the strong, toned arm now touching you, an idea clicked into place.

He grunts an affirmation, turning to face you, inked hands smoothing a path up your legs. There’s a smirk on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right, I was distracted. I was thinking-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, you shush him. “First of all, I’m always right. Haven’t you learned that by now?” 

Jutting his chin, he nips at the digit, trapping it between the edges of his teeth. “Sounds fake.”

“Second of all..” you continue, voice husky with a new bead of lust pooling low in your gut. You drag your finger over the plush flesh of his lip before sliding lower, tapping his chin once before you grip his jaw tightly. The responding hiss he gives makes you smirk deviously. “No more thinking. I think it’s time for more distractions.” 

Jungkook whines lowly as you move to straddle his lap, your palm still clutching his mouth to pull him closer to you. Your free hand smooths the hair out of his face, nails raking lightly against his scalp.

“Is that okay?” your lips ghost against his own, close enough that he could capture them into a kiss if he wanted, but instead he nods his head, eyes heavy with longing.

Threading your fingers around his midnight locks, you give one sharp tug, exposing his intricately tattooed throat as he keens once more. Releasing his jaw, you drop your head, mouth puckered and planting a kiss on his pulse point. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving,  pulse galloping wildly beneath your palm. He hitches a breath, swallowing thickly. “Fuck, baby. Yes, yes that’s okay,” he rasps, words needy and rushed.

Large palms cup your ass, pulling you closer until you are flush against him, and you moan against his neck as he kneads the flesh, his hips raising off the couch. His tongue finds the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and your eyes roll back as he nibbles and licks at the tender skin. 

Giving in for a moment, you enjoy the feeling of Jungkook’s mouth on your heated body, the warmth of his lips and tongue igniting a fever in your bones, his hands still pulling at the globes of your ass until you were dragging your core over his clothed cock.

It was a deep growl from his chest that brought you back, lifting your head away from his dangerous mouth. This was supposed to be about him relaxing, but if you continued down this path, you knew you’d be lost under his spell.

With great effort, you step off of his lap, knees wobbly as you untangle yourself from Jungkook’s form, though the sight before you makes you want to collapse. Jungkook looks beyond fucked out, eyes dark and shining with desire, his lips ruddy and shining with overuse. He’s panting, his black t-shirt seemingly straining against heaving muscles, the imprint of his cock evident and thick even through his sweatpants.

God, you wanted to ruin him. 

“Lay down for me,” you husk, throat painfully dry. You watch as he does what he’s told, laying until his whole body is now on the couch, his umber gaze never leaving yours. 

“Good boy.” 

He rolls his eyes then, but his cheeks flush, the praise affecting him despite his embarrassment. “Don’t make fun of me, babe. I’m a very powerful man.” 

Chuckling, you move to slide off your sweatpants, stepping out of them and your panties once they hit the floor. A quick flick of your wrist has your top discarded across the room - and leaves you bare before Jungkook. 

“I know you are. But I also know you like it when I take care of you, hmm?” you move closer, hovering just by the edge of where he’s laying, planning your next step.

Jungkook can’t take his gaze off of you, doe eyes obsidian and devouring you whole, darting between your face and splendidly naked form. His hand grips his bulge , palming himself as he hisses in response. 

Climbing over his lap once more, you pause before settling, instead gripping the edges of his shirt to pull over his head, tossing it errantly. Drinking him in, you trace the lengths of his abdomen, grazing over his nipples before following the inked lines down his arms, hands intertwining. Dropping your hips, you roll them once against his hardened cock, moaning at the friction before you move his arms to rest above his head. 

“Leave these here,” you order, but there’s no bite, only softness as you trace back the lines of his palms, the underside of his biceps. He was peering down, wanting to watch your every move, regarding you with admiration as you leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his collarbone. 

You take your time, dragging your lips back and forth along the planes of his toned chest, nipping and suckling reddened blemishes on his skin, relishing in the sounds he was making for you - just for you. A quick glance told you that he’s behaving, arms still perched above his head and draped onto the side of the couch, though twitching when you would reach a sensitive spot with your mouth. His eyes are closed, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth, and when you lap at the hollow of his throat, his brow furrows in strain, as if it took every effort to not reach down and pull you closer to him.

Seeing him blissed out beneath you, relinquishing his control despite his body screaming at him not to has heat flooding your veins, your cunt clenching in desire. If there was one thing that turned you on more than Jungkook existing, it was pleasing him until he forgot his own name. 

With a groan, you lift your lips to press against his own, gasping when his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. Jungkook always kisses with such passion, hunger edging in every suckle and nibble of your pout, lips moving in tandem. For a moment, you allow yourself to drown in it, relishing the taste of him, kissing him until you’re forced to pull away for air. 

Pressing your forehead to his, you pause, allowing you both time to breathe, your hand rising to cup the silk line of his jaw. His eyes look pained, brows pulled taunt as he looks up at you, and you can feel the sinew muscle beneath your palm twitch. 

Nuzzling against his nose once, twice, you press a chaste kiss against his lips once more. “Jungkook,” you breathe, searching his gaze. “It’s okay. I’m with you, I got you,” 

He swallows thickly, nodding. “I know, babe, I know you do.” He leans forward, chasing your mouth, tugging your bottom lip lightly between his teeth before dropping. “I just, I hate that she said that to you, that you get treated differently because of me, because of who I am-” 

Hushing him with a kiss  is much more effective than with your words, and you continue to lick into his mouth until he's groaning beneath you once more, your name a whispered mantra on his lips. 

“I don’t care what she thinks, what anyone thinks. I know you, Jungkook, and I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby. So much.” 

It was only once the yearning and eagerness came back to light his eyes that you continue, sitting up on all fours so you could crawl upwards. Hips dangling precariously above his face, you could see a quirk of his eyebrow before he looked up at you once more, gaze dripping in wonder. 

“You gonna sit on my face, hmm? Let me taste you?” he rasps, hands moving from their invisible restraints to slide up the outside of your thighs. You let him explore for a brief moment, savoring the sensation of calluses dragging against your soft skin, before you grab his wrists, pinning them back above him.

“Only if you’re a good boy for me.”

 A giggle escapes you at his expression, but before he could protest you lower yourself to his mouth, letting out a sigh when puckered lips immediately latch onto your throbbing clit. He drags his tongue against it before tugging it between plush lips, suckling harshly, your eyes rolling back as you grip the couch to steady yourself. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” 

Grinning against your core, he alternates his attack, lapping your wetness, licking the length of your vulva before focusing again at the hardened bud at your apex. Just when your thighs start to tense, your high within reach, he moves back to tonguing your slickened core slowly, moaning as he tastes you like a man starved.

Reaching down, you grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him closer to your aching center, briefly regretting your decision to not let him touch you - but too stubborn to lift the request. “You’re so good, baby.” you mewl, hips rutting against him. “So good to me, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” 

Jungkook’s tongue lashes against your cunt with a renewed fervor, your praise spurring him on with the only goal being to satisfy you. As the band in your stomach tightens, your thighs start trembling, making him groan against you before focusing  on your clit, the vibrations of his mouth proving to be too much alongside the onslaught of his suckled kisses. 

With a cry of his name you tumble over the edge, releasing the pent up orgasm with a flood of liquid arousal, Jungkook lapping up every drop as you give it to him. He’s whispering praise all the while, telling you how good you did for him, how delicious you taste - taking care of you even as he guides you through the crest. Feeling weak as you come down, you shudder a breath, hand reaching to stabilize you on the couch edge long enough to move away from that dangerous mouth of his. 

“God, that was so hot, Y/N, you’re so good to me,” his voice is rough, gravelly with misuse. Unable to stop himself, his arms come to cradle your shivering form to his chest, laying you completely on top of him. 

You give in, allowing  yourself time to catch your breath and regain stability in your wobbling bones. His hand smooths against your hair, cooing softly at you. When you feel firmly returned to earth, Jungkook shifts, moving as if he wanted to pin you beneath him.

 “Are you going to be good for me now?” he smirks, eyebrow raised in cocky defiance, the kind only earned from having the skills to back it up.

Returning the smile, you shake your head, pushing his chest back down to the couch. “Absolutely not, who said I was done with you?”

A retort dies on his lips at the sight of you slinking down his legs, hands pulling his sweatpants on your descent, his cock red and dripping in precum as it slaps taunt against his abdomen. Sucking a digit into your mouth, you pull it out with a lewd pop to trace lightly up and down his length, stopping to swirl it around the leaking head. 

The thick cords of muscle in his tattooed clad thighs tense at the light touch, and his hips rise to chase the contact. “Baby, you’re going to kill me, please,” he whines, and it’s sweet  music to your ears.

“Hmm, want me to touch you? To taste you?” you murmur, dropping your head to kiss lightly up his shaft - just enough pressure to let him know you were there, but not enough for any sort of relief.

“God, I want you so fucking bad,” he mumbles frantically,  words tying around his tongue thickened with lust. “Please, baby. I’d do anything. You want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees,” 

He cuts off with a moan when you slip the tip into the molten heat of your mouth, worshiping the sensitive flesh with your tongue, sucking gently. He’s bucking now, desperate to feel more, but you pull back enough to not allow his cock to sink further into your mouth, content to lap at the reddened head until he was dripping. 

Savoring the hardened lines of his body and the lecherous way he was looking at you for a moment longer, you finally acquiesce, dragging your mouth down his shaft until you could nuzzle the hairs at his pelvis. The growl that rumbled through his chest was your reward, his hands now sliding through your hair to tug at your scalp. 

“Fuck, so good,” he babbles, gulping for air. “Feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

Pacing yourself, you glide up and down, tongue swirling around velvet steel as you take him fully, one hand cupping around his base. While his length was impressive, it was the girth that took you time to adjust to, and once you were used to the heaviness on your tongue you increase your speed, taking him as far back into your throat as possible before swallowing around him.

Jungkook cries out, your name tumbling from his lips as his hands tighten in your hair. He thrusts shallowly up into your mouth once, twice, before he hisses, pulling you off of him with a grunt. 

“I-I can’t, you can’t keep doing that,” he stutters, licking the salt off his lips. “If you do, I’m going to come.”

Grinning, you slide your fist that had been holding him steady up his shaft, squeezing lightly. “What if that’s what I want? What if I want you to make a mess for me?”

The cock in your hand pulses at your words, and pride swells in your chest, a wicked light brimming in your eyes. “Jungkook?” your free hand moves to cradle the weight of his balls, massaging gently. “Would you let me?”

He whines, head slamming back into the pillows as he gives in to your tease. “Did I mention that you’re going to be the death of me? Because if not, I would like to make sure that statement is on record.”

“Well, that’s not an answer.”

Bucking his hips, his hands slide from your hair to rest on top of your own. “Yes,Y/N. I’d let you do whatever you want to me. I’d let you wreck me thoroughly and I’d thank you for it when it was over,” he pants, before pulling your grip off his throbbing arousal. 

Pouting, you watch with narrowed eyes as he sits up, his inked palm coming to caress your cheek. “But right now,” he timbers, voice low, “I want nothing more than to feel you, bury myself inside you. To have your tight pussy squeezing around me as I come. ” 

Tracing the lines of your lips, he leans to ghost his mouth against yours, breath intertwining. “Will you let me?” he whispers, imitating your words, nosing down to your pulse point, your throat. A surge of desire had your thighs pressing together, your nipples pebbling as he scorches your neck with the fire of his tongue. 

Shoving him down, you straddle him once more, wasting no time to reach behind you to firmly grasp his cock and sheath it into your awaiting heat. You both moan at the plunge, his thickness stretching you deliciously until the pressure ebbed into pleasure.

Once you are fully seated, you lean over him, watching his face intently as you roll your hips gracefully, slowly. Jungkook angles up far enough to pull a nipple into his mouth, encircling it with tongue until you were groaning for him. Inked arms snaked down to grasp at the meat of your ass, dragging you back and forth, your engorged bundle of nerves grinding deliciously against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but to keen loudly, gasps for air becoming more desperate as your unhurried pace tortures you both into delirium. 

It’s then he speaks, tone husky as he admires you. “You are so perfect, so beautiful, baby,” he presses swollen lips into your neck, your collarbone, your breast. “Perfect for me.” 

His hands slide up to grasp your hips, fingers pressing so deep you were sure they’d leave small bruises in his wake. Moving to plant his feet firmly against the couch, he starts to thrust up into you, his assault relentless as his tight grip pins you in place. Crying out, you throw your head back, eyes closing against the euphoria of him stroking every sensitive spot inside of you on each plunge. 

“So good, taking me so good,” he croaks, voice thick with lust. “God, look at you. Falling apart for me.”

You clench then, tightening around his cock and making him choke on a moan. “I can make you fall apart for me t-too,” you breathe, placing your hands on his broad chest to help you meet each snap of his pelvis.

“I know you can, baby. You can make me do anything,” his eyes meet yours then, intense and overflowing with admiration. “I worship you, f-fuck. Love you, I love you so much.” 

You try to hold eye contact, but his pace is relentless, his cock filling you to the brim, ravaging you with stamina only he could possess. “I love you too, Jungkook,” moaning, you start to meet each thrust, chasing your high. 

He can tell you’re close, tell by the way your eyes are squeezed tight, your cheeks blooming pink, mouth agape in a silent scream. He sits up, settling you onto his lap so he could be face to face with you. “Open your eyes, I want to see you,” he hisses, hands still guiding you to bounce on his length. “I wanna watch you come for me, wanna come with you.”

Prying open your heavy lids, you meet the matchbook fire in his gaze, feeling yourself tighten around him at the carnal lust he assaults you with. You were close, so close, and when he whines out another melody of your name, you feel the thinned  band finally snap, throwing you into your second orgasm.

Jungkook fucks you through it, composure lost when you clench around him like a vice, and he reaches his peak as you’re coming down, groaning as he spills himself inside of you. It takes his hips a moment to catch up, stuttering a few final snaps before resting, and then he’s tugging you down to him, pressing your form tightly to his own.

Heavy panting filled the room, and you let the rhythmic beating of his heart bring you back to earth, lull you until your eyes were heavy with fatigue. Jungkook was still inside you, and you could feel him softening though he made no indication of moving. An inked hand rose to sink into your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly. 

“You’re the best at distractions,”

“I know.”

Licking his dry lips, he whistles lowly. “Spend the night with me?”

You chuckle, sliding your palm to rest on his chest. “I live here, you dummy.” Humming, you trace the patterns of the designs etched into his skin serenely . “We should still talk about it, though. What’s bothering you.” 

He stiffens beneath you, letting loose a shaky breath. Silence envelopes you both, so you continue. “You know I have no regrets about the choices I made, about choosing you. I can protect myself. And I’ll always defend you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he starts, tone shifting. “I always knew my lifestyle would bring some challenges, and I was ready to face them. But when it affects the people I love - when it affects you - I just,” he pauses, chewing on his lip as he searches for the words. “I just hate it.  I know you don’t need me to, but it makes me want to shield you from the world. Lock you away with me, safe from everything. Just the two of us.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. You don’t like that he’s worried over you, but you also understand that this is just him, his heart. He will always want to shelter those he loves from pain, and it’s one of the million reasons you trusted him with your life - loved him so deeply.

“We’ve done a pretty good job at that the last few days, I think,” you smirk, resting your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “We can get through anything as long as we’re together, you know?”

Jungkook grins then, one of his wide ones that crinkles his nose and shows off his teeth, and the rush of love that hits your veins makes you dizzy. 

“I know, baby.” 

You continue to talk for a few more moments, content to be wrapped up in his embrace, despite the fact that you were both nude and in great need of a shower. When you finally move to stand, stretching your limbs over your head, another thought crosses your mind.

“Wait, I need to know - what did you tell the hostess that day? At the tea parlor?” 

Jungkook rises to full height next to you, hair sweaty and flopping into his eyes. He tilts his head, expression sliding into one more serious. “I told her that I was glad she knew who I was, because then she knew what would happen if she ever so much as looked at you the wrong way again…” he trailed off, stepping closer to give you a glimpse of his cold glare, a small taste of the power he possessed.  

“And that is I would leave her a terrible review on Yelp. I’m talking abysmal, zero stars, and a detailed essay on just how unprofessional she was. Tell all my friends to do the same. She’d be lucky to have a job by the end of the week when I was through.”

You stare at him wide eyed for a beat before laughter overtakes you, arms rising to slide around his neck, pulling him closer. He was trying - and failing - to keep the serious look on his face, eyes glittered with mischief, chuckles rumbling low in his chest. Pecking the side of his upturned pout, you sigh dreamily. 

“My hero.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #btsbookclub #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #gang!AU jk #gang!AU #tattooed jungkook #bts scenario #bts x reader #my writing #fic: take me to church #fic: tmtc #jeon jungkook #big buff bun

[tomhardygf]

an equine mistake 2.7k tommy/alfie

“Peaky Blinders AU where giving someone a horse counts as a courtship tradition amongst the Romanies and not knowing about it, Alfie presents Tommy with a rather beautiful stallion. The next day he has both Arthur AND Polly at his throat. Tommy enjoys the chaos.”

this is silly and dumb and i didn’t wanna bother posting on ao3! has a lot less tommy enjoying chaos and more him being absolutely bewildered. set in a world where homophobia doesn’t exist, maybe. ft: john shelby being a little asshole, alfie being a belligerent asshole, and me dunking on ollie even when there is absolutely no need for it 💖

original prompt: (x) (ty @ohmykaspbrak ✨ ur brain is powerful and huge) ohmykaspbrak’s fill: (x) read it she’s beautiful

Tommy stood on the Garrison doorstop, blinking down at the man before him. “What’s this?” He asks, fingers itching for a cigarette, but too surprised to actually reach for one. 

“What’s it fucking look like, mate?” Answers Alfie, rope twined around his hand at least 5 times, as if afraid his charge were to bolt at any moment. “Recently acquired the bloody beast in a deal, and thought to myself, ‘right, who do I know who’ll take this thing off my hands’?”

“And you thought of me?”

Alfie waves his free hand in the air. “Yeah. It was either that, or put a bullet between its eyes.”

Tommy is still skeptical, but he takes a step forward. The horse that Alfie’s brought him is beautiful— fur black as night, with strong, powerful muscles shifting underneath. He moves closer, carefully considering the state of it’s health, but the eyes are bright and clear, the nose and mouth free of any signs of sick, its hooves well maintained, when he picks one up for inspection. It’s young, and it’s clearly been very well taken care of. Whoever Alfie had taken this horse off of had likely poured a great deal of money into its acquisition and it’s upkeep. 

“A thoroughbred,” Alfie adds, when Tommy doesn’t respond any further. “Least, think that’s what he said. He wasn’t exactly speaking straight, had something blocking his mouth.”

Tommy makes a considering noise in reply. Alfie turning up in Birmingham tugging a horse along, no car or any of his men in sight was certainly the strangest thing to happen to him that week. He’s half expecting an ambush, for the sounds of gunfire to start hailing down on them, but nothing happens. It’s just Alfie, standing in front of him, looking as out of place on the street in front of the Garrison as Tommy ever could have imagined. The man looks more and more uncomfortable the longer Tommy doesn’t respond, so he eventually takes pity on him. “Do you want to give him a name?”

“Nah,” Alfie snorts, “I trust you can come up with something suitable for the creature.” At that, he begins to unwind the rope from his wrist, holding it out vaguely in Tommy’s direction. Tommy resists the urge to crack a smile at the discomfort still evident in the man’s posture. He’s still a bit bewildered by Alfie thinking to give him what was undeniably a gift— a stallion, of all things— but he’s sure that the man hadn’t meant anything by it. 

Tommy lifts his hand to take the rope. Just as it is passing between them, the door to the Garrison swings open, John bustling his way through. He’d been in the back of the bar when Tommy’d been informed about Solomons marching down the road, and Tommy had quietly slipped out before he would be any the wiser. He stumbles to an abrupt stop at the view before him. “What’s this?” He slurs, not drunk, just confused. His eyes dart between the two men and the horse standing behind them, the look on John’s face becoming rapidly accusatory as he takes in the scene before him.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak, to give an explanation that wouldn’t make things worse for himself, but Alfie beats him to it. “Was passing through your pisshole of a city, and thought I’d stop by and drop your brother off a gift I’ve been meaning to give him.” 

John’s mouth falls open, face twisting up in a mixture of confusion and outrage. He tears his eyes away from Solomons, staring directly now at Tommy. “He brought you a fucking horse?”

Tommy moves forward, the horse following along after him, docile. Tommy switches to Romani, aware of Alfie’s presence behind him. “Relax, brother. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“He’d better fucking not,” John spits, partially soothed, but shoots a glare over Tommy’s shoulder at Alfie.

“How would he know?” Tommy asks, resting a hand on John’s shoulder, face purposefully clear, despite how much he’s holding in the strange urge to laugh at the situation. “He’s Jewish. Different traditions.”

“Oi,” Alfie interrupts, stepping forward now as well. When Tommy looks over to him, he’s got his chest puffed out, looking harsh and burly. “Don’t know whatever the fuck you two are saying, but I know who you’re talkjng about, alright? Enough whispering.”

John scowls at him, unimpressed with the man. But after a moment, a new expression crosses his face, something significantly more mischievous— his anger having faded, he’s fallen back into just being his little brother. “I’m going to tell Polly about this.”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

John grins, slaps Tommy on the back. He slips back into English. “Yeah, I’m going to tell her.

“John!” Tommy hisses, but John’s already ducked out and away from him, practically skipping down the street in his excitement to cause problems. Tommy sighs as he stares after him. That’ll be something to deal with.

Alfie follows his gaze, deflating a bit now that John’s gone. “What was all that about, then?”

Tommy snorts, and he lifts a hand to pat against the horse’s flank. “It’s… one of the traditions of my people,” he murmurs, his cheeks suddenly feeling a bit warm. “The gift of a stallion represents certain… expectations.”

“Expectations?”

Tommy looks up at Alfie, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice, especially at the look of bewilderment on the man. “You’ve asked me to marry you.”

*

Alfie follows him home. Or, more accurately, Alfie follows him back to Charlie’s Yard, to board the horse, and then he follows him home. He tells Alfie, as they walk, that there’s no need for him to follow— that it wasn’t as if he needed to explain to his family his intentions (or his lack of them), that him showing up will likely only make things worse. But Alfie is apparently determined to make a vaguely uncomfortable conversation into something much more excruciating. So Alfie’s there, at his back as he opens the front door, a dull feeling of dread filling Tommy as he hears John’s gleeful snickering from somewhere deeper in the house.

It was too much to hope that John wouldn’t find Polly before him. Far too much to hope that when John found her, that she wouldn’t already be accompanied by every single member of his immediate family. He turns the corner to the kitchen, five sets of eyes locking in on the two men as they enter. 

“See?” John laughs, absolutely delighted, gesturing wildly towards Tommy and Alfie standing in the doorway.

“No,” Arthur grunts, going a bit pale.

Ada and Finn snicker behind their hands, eyes wide. 

Polly just purses her lips, eyeing the two of them, considering. 

“Alright, look.” Tommy steps forward into the room, shooting his younger brother a quick glare. John, unrepentant, grins back at him. “I’m sure John’s told you—.”

“That congratulations are in order?” Polly interrupts, arching a brow.

“It’s been good weather,” Ada jumps in, still giggling a bit. “Good for an outdoor ceremony.”

“Alright,” Tommy holds both his hands up, trying to quiet them down, to stifle the laughter. “No one’s proposing to anyone, you hear me?”

Arthur lets out a sigh of relief. The rest of them keep looking amused. Polly turns her gaze on Alfie, still standing behind Tommy. “So I suppose I don’t need to ask you for your intentions with my nephew, then?”

Alfie makes one of those noises he does, that deep rumbling in the back of his throat. “Well, you could ask me, right, and maybe I’d tell you, out of respect for our dear Thomas standing over there, but I’d not be sure you’d like my answer.”

Tommy looks up, frowning. He’s always overly cautious around the man, always looking for double meaning behind his words. Is what he’s said… a threat? “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Alfie moves in closer, tilting his head to the side. He lifts a hand, gesturing towards Tommy standing there. “I mean, if given the opportunity, mate, I’d love to take a run at it, but if that would mean volunteering to join in on this family of yours, I’ll have to decline, right.”

The room is silent for a moment. Just for a minute, though.

“What?” Arthur growls. Ada releases a nervous bark of laughter, eyes still wide and shining with her glee. John and Finn, sitting on either side of her, have matching expressions. Tommy just… stands there.

“Jesus Christ,” Polly murmurs, and with that, she rises to her feet. There’s a sly look to her. “Tommy, perhaps you should have a chat in private with your suitor. Best of luck to you, Mr. Solomons. Heaven knows, you’ll need it.”

The Shelby’s slowly leave the room, Arthur and John seeming particularly reluctant to leave them, for very different reasons. Arthur, on his way out, gets directly into Alfie’s face, glaring, but Alfie is as unphased by threat of direct violence as he always is. 

Soon (much too soon), it’s just Tommy and Alfie stood in the room.

“What?” Tommy asks, weakly, because he still thinks there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, that he’d not interpreted what the man had said correctly, because there’s no way that Alfie actually meant it, right? Not in that way.

All Shelby’s gone, save Tommy, Alfie has the sense to look a bit more bashful than his previous bravado in the face of Arthur and Polly. “Well, wasn’t gonna just fucking… say it, alright?” He runs a large hand down his face, stroking through his beard. “Was going to be proper nice, was going to be romantic.” 

Tommy coughs out a laugh, something far more nervous than he’s normally capable of. “Romantic?”

Alfie nods, twitchy and unpredictable. “Yeah. First was the horse, right? Had to give you a gift, a signal of my esteemed interest. You’re very pretty, is the thing. Makes me want to give you gifts, daft as it is. Couldn’t decide what you’d want, was between that and a razor to sew into those silly little caps of yours. Thought that might come across the wrong way, that you’d think I was threatening to cut ya.” He sighs, eyes darting up towards the ceiling. “Should’ve just gotten you the razor. How was I to know that the horse would be as good as dropping to bended knee?”

Tommy almost blushes at the turn of phrase. Alfie, with his eagle eyes, still notices. His lips quirk up into a smirk.

“That a nice thought, Tom? I’m not as young as I used to be, sweetie, knees don’t cooperate as much as I’d like them to. For someone with a mouth like yours, though, I might be persuaded to try.”

“Alright,” Tommy holds up a hand, putting a stop to that train of thought before it can go any further. He weighs his own words over in his mind, still trying to puzzle through this unprecedented situation. “So… what exactly are you saying? You…” he clears his throat, hating it before he even says it. “You want me?”

Alfie just nods, as if he sees absolutely nothing strange about the concept, as if Tommy’s just asked him if he’d like to stay for a cup of tea. “Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Oh.” Tommy nods back at him. He bites at the inside of his lip. “Okay. You. Alright.”

Alfie studies him, something shifting in his expression that Tommy instantly picks up on. Disappointment, maybe. “You don’t need to reciprocate, lad. Just say, ‘thanks, but no thanks’, and I’ll be right on my way back to Camdentown, won’t I? Daresay I won’t even do something dastardly, like charge you an extra percentage on your goods. No charge for rejection, alright?”

Tommy snorts. “No cost for hurt feelings?”

Alfie, curiously, laughs. “Different sort of cost, perhaps. Nothing I’d hold you to, though.”

It gives him pause. He’d been well on his way to formulating his rejection, on how to say it without causing any damage to their professional relationship. It’s not that he dislikes Alfie, per say. On the contrary, Tommy finds himself thinking frequently of the man, drawn to him like he’s never been drawn to anyone else, be they friend of foe. He’s strong, and broad, and interesting, and exactly the sort of man that Tommy thinks that people would be attracted to. In fact, if Tommy thinks about it for too long, he’d say that he likes Alfie very much. It’s just his first instinct is to draw away in the face of violence and uncertainty, two things of which Alfie had to offer him in spades. Especially if Alfie weren’t all that serious about this, if he’d just like to “take a run” at him, like he’d said, that was too much mystery for too little payoff. Though it’d probably be spectacular.

But… Despite his words, Alfie doesn’t seem all that interested in something quick, a one-off. The way he’s looking at him now, as if Tommy held the fate of the world in his hands certainly seems invested. 

“Can I… Can I think about it?” Tommy finally decides on. There’s a tension between them, tension that is not unpleasant. 

Alfie nods, expression brightening significantly. He steps forward. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you do that.” He looks so large up close, despite not being all that much bigger than Tommy, in reality. “Suppose I’ll go now, then. Give you your time to think on it. On us.”

“Alright.” Tommy manages, the words threatening to get caught in his throat as Alfie continues to approach him. It doesn’t feel menacing. It feels playful, somehow. “Best get back to Camden.”

“Oh, you’ve no idea, treacle. Left the bakery in Ollie’s incompetent hands, you see. I’d be surprised if half of London hasn’t erupted in flames left under his supervision.”

“Ollie’s not that bad,” Tommy offers, lips twisted up a small smile. Alfie takes yet another step closer. He can feel the heat radiating off of his body, the scent of rum and smoke billowing off of him.

“He has his moments.” Alfie nods, face serious, but Tommy can see the amusement in his expression. “Think he just likes to show off, whenever you’re around. Pretty eyes like that will make a man do stranger things.”

Tommy’s smile grows. “The door is behind you, Mr. Solomons.”

“Yeah, yeah it is, isn’t it?” Alfie’s eyes flicker over Tommy’s face, as if trying to memorize what he sees. “I said I’d leave you to think about it, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Tommy nods, “was very courteous of you.”

Alfie’s beard twitches with his concealed grin. “It was very courteous of me, wasn’t it? And I’ve got to check on Ollie now. So I’m leaving.”

“You’re doing a poor job of it.”

“Alright! Alright, I’m going.” Alfie rubs a hand through his whiskers. “Just want to leave you with one more thing to think about, if that’s alright with you.”

“If what’s alright with me—”

Tommy is quickly cut off by Alfie leaning in the final few inches between them, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Alfie’s lips are warm against his, firm and insistent. There’s a hand holding onto his chin, tilting Tommy’s face in exactly the right position to be kissed properly. Tommy’s surprised by it, and surprised by how he melts, how he allows himself to be held onto, his eyes fluttering closed against his volition. 

All too quickly, Alfie darts away, ending the kiss far too soon for Tommy’s liking. He opens his eyes again just in time to see Alfie licking his own lips, as if tasting for anything Tommy might have left behind. The man’s fingers, still holding onto his chin, run soothingly up the length of his jaw before he drops the hand once again to his side.

“Alright.” Alfie grins. “I’ll be off then. You give that a bit of thought, Tom.” 

“Oh,” Tommy chokes out, body flustered and reeling from the kiss, and from Alfie’s quick withdrawal. By the time he’s managed to pull himself together a bit, Alfie’s already at the door.

The man glances back over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, looking insufferably pleased with himself. “See you soon, sweetie.” With that, he’s out the door.

Tommy stands there, listening to the door swing shut behind Alfie. He lifts a hand up to his own face, traces over the place where Alfie’s hand had touched him, then over where his lips are still tingling with the memory of the kiss. His blood pumps hot through his veins, heart racing.

He stumbles over his own feet in his haste to get to the door.

#tommy/alfie #:~) #my tommy is always OOC and i will not rest until hes happy #my fic

[thatsamericano]

To Be a Gardener in Love with a Prince

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano, Prussia cameo. Human AU.

Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for cursing. No warnings.

Word Count: 2440

Summary: Savino makes a flower delivery in the middle of the night as he usually does, but this time Alfred wakes up.

A/N: For @aphrarepairweek2021 Day 2, “Royalty.” Inspired by this popular text post, which screams Romerica to me.

Savino checked to make sure that the small bouquet of thornless roses he’d prepared earlier were securely strapped to his chest as he approached the castle entrance. Gilbert, the palace guard, raised a single pale eyebrow him.

“Again, Savi? What is this, the third time this week?”

Savino scowled at him. “Shut up.”

Gilbert laughed and got in position to lift him up towards the first foothold on the stone wall. “You know, it might be easier to just tell Prince Alfred how you feel. That way you wouldn’t have to climb into his bedroom every night just to leave him flowers.”

Savino grunted and stretched up to place his hand over a balcony ledge. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked.”

Gilbert turned back to watch the area outside the castle. “Whatever you say, Romeo.”

Savino frowned to himself as he leveraged himself up onto the balcony. Gilbert’s comparison was strangely apt. They weren’t from feuding families, but he had about as much chance with Prince Alfred as Romeo and Juliet had of ending up together. Alfred was the eldest prince, born with more wealth and power than most people could even contemplate. Savino was just the guy who’d been hired to tend to the plants in the castle’s garden.

Alfred was pretty strange, as far as royalty went. Savino had been kicked around a lot in his life, and most people from the upper class wouldn’t bother to speak to him, because they thought a title and inherited wealth made them better than a mere commoner like Savino, especially one who got soil under their fingernails each day from toiling in a garden. But Alfred wasn’t like that. They’d met one day while Alfred was guiding his horse back to the stables, and Savino had bowed and called him “Your Royal Highness,” as he had been trained to his entire life. Alfred had chuckled, told Savino he could stand, and that he was more comfortable being called “Alfred,” and that he didn’t think he was better than anyone else just because he was a prince. The entire encounter was bizarre as hell, especially when Alfred shook his hand and asked who Savino was like they were equals.

The next day, he came back, just to chat and get to know the new gardener better. Alfred asked him questions about the seaside town he’d been born in, his life, and his family, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything Savino had to say. Alfred kept visiting, and he talked about himself too, but not in a pompous or arrogant way. Usually it was funny anecdotes about his younger brother, his parents, or the boring meetings he had to attend. Occasionally, he’d complain about how he kept getting offers of marriages on behalf of princesses from other countries. Alfred didn’t want to marry some girl he’d met only once or twice simply because it would create an advantageous political alliance.

“Who would you wanna marry?” Savino had asked him once.

Alfred frowned thoughtfully. “I dunno. Someone who likes me, and I like her. Someone I can talk to for hours on end without getting bored, the way I can talk to you. Someone who makes me feel excited when I wake up, because I know I’ll get to see them that day.”

“You want to marry for love, then,” Savino concluded.

“Doesn’t everybody?”

It was at that point Savino realized that, against all his preconceived notions, Alfred had become one of his closest friends at the castle. A few months after that, he came to the painful realization that he’d fallen in love with a goddamn prince. It didn’t have anything to do with some silly fantasy about rising above his current station. He just loved Alfred, for his carefree smile, windswept blond hair, the way he’d take an extra pastry from the kitchen to make sure Savino got to eat lunch in the afternoons, and all those times he got down on his hands and knees to pull weeds out of a flowerbed with Savino just because he “looked like he could use a little help.” He loved Alfred’s tight hugs, his hilariously accurate impression of the king, the glee in Alfred’s voice when he called out for “Vinny,” the nickname he’d given Savino only a couple weeks after they’d first met, and the fact that Alfred had been so happy he’d bounced on his feet after Savino started calling him Fredo.

If Alfred had been a knight or a stable boy, Savino would have tried to figure out if he could be interested in men romantically. And then, if it seemed like a real possibility, he would have done something about his feelings. As it was, Alfred was so far out of his league that all Savino could do was pick a few flowers and leave him anonymous bouquets while he was sleeping. A confession of any kind was completely out of the realm of possibility.

After reaching that first balcony, Savino had to do a bit more careful climbing to reach the highest window, which led into the prince’s bedroom. Every time he delivered flowers to Alfred, Savino wished he could get into the castle like a normal person instead of risking life and limb. Unfortunately, Gilbert was the only guard Savino trusted not to run to the king and alert him about an intruder “harassing” his oldest son. If he was accused of trying to harm a member of the royal family, Savino could be sentenced to death, and Alfred’s protestations might not be enough to save him.

Savino wiggled through the open window, grateful that Alfred habitually left his window up in the warm summer evenings as he slept. Savino couldn’t have delivered his flowers if Alfred hadn’t been quite so trusting.

The room was dark, and he only had a bit of moonlight to guide him. But after so many clandestine visits, Savino was familiar with the layout of Alfred’s bedroom, and he was confident that he could tiptoe across the plush, carpeted floor, locate the empty vase on the third shelf of Alfred’s bookcase, leave his roses, and then retreat without Alfred having any clue he was ever here.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t counting on a footstool to be placed directly in the shadow cast by Alfred’s enormous four-poster bed. Savino stubbed his toe on the damn footstool, and hissed instead of screeching out a curse like he normally would have at the unexpected, sharp pain.

The bedcovers rustled as Alfred slowly began to wake up. “What’s going on? Who’s there?”

Savino clenched his jaw and silently prayed Alfred wouldn’t see him. If he just stayed perfectly still and didn’t breathe too loudly, maybe Fredo would assume he’d been dreaming and go back to sleep. Then Savino could get the fuck out of here with some shred of dignity left.

Too late. Alfred shifted up into a sitting position and reached over to the side table for his glasses. He put them on and squinted through the darkness. “Vinny?” he asked. “Is that you?”

Savino coughed and tried to deepen his voice. “It doesn’t matter who I am. Just go back to sleep.”

“It is you!” Alfred grinned, shoved the covers back, and bounded towards him with a remarkable amount of energy for someone who’d just woken up only a few seconds ago.  “What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Did you need to talk to me about something?”

“I… uh…” Savino couldn’t figure out what to say, and he couldn’t figure out where to look. His best friend, who he was hopelessly in love with, was wondering why Savino had snuck into his room long past midnight. If he looked up, he would see Alfredo’s goofy, oblivious smile and his hair that was mussed adorably from being rubbed across his pillow while he slept. If he cast his gaze eye level or lower, he would be looking at the prince’s goddamn silk pajamas. Anything he saw would be too intimate or too much.

Alfred stepped even closer and tilted his head down. “Dude, are those… roses? Why would you have roses strapped to your chest?”

Savino squeezed his eyes shut and hoped Alfred couldn’t see how close he was to bursting into tears. “I can explain, Fredo, I swear.”

Alfred gasped. “Oh my God! You’re the one who’s been leaving flowers in my room! I can’t believe this!”

“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my place, and I had no right to—"

Savino couldn’t even stutter out a full apology, because the next thing he knew, Alfred was hugging him and giggling in his ear. Not only hugging him and giggling, but picking Savino up and spinning him around in the air.

After several rotations, he finally set a baffled, dizzy Savino back down on his feet. Alfred shifted back a little to beam down at him, but kept his hands lightly resting on Savino’s waist for reasons Savino couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was trying to apologize,” Savino said slowly, to emphasize the words. “For breaking into your private bedroom. For giving you gifts that are a little strange for friends to give each other, no matter how close they are.” Maybe Alfred had missed the romantic subtext of everything he’d done? It was the only explanation Savino could think of for why he was reacting like this.

Alfred shook his head, still smiling. “Vinny, dude, you don’t have to apologize for that. The next time you want to come into my room, you can just ask. I don’t want you breaking your neck trying to climb a wall or something.”

“But what about the, um…”

“The flowers? I had no idea it was you. I mean, you are the gardener here, so it makes sense, but when Mattie brought it up to me, I was like nah, no way. Vinny’s way too cute and charming to go for someone like me. He could have anyone he wanted.”

Savino’s head was spinning, and his heart was pounding, but not from anxiety this time. “You’ve told your brother about me?”

“Heck, I’ve told everyone about you. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you so much. But the only people I’ve told everything to are Mattie and my manservant, Tolys. The rest of them would try to tell me I shouldn’t be in love with you, either because you’re a gardener or because you’re not a girl. I’d rather not have to hear their stupid opinions about you, because they don’t know shit.”

“You… you love me?” It sounded fake when Savino said it out loud, but he was only repeating what Fredo had just told him.

Alfred frowned, suddenly looking worried and insecure. “Was I not supposed to say that? I didn’t misread everything, did I? Were those just friendship flowers?”

Savino shook his head, crying and laughing at the same time. “Tesoro, there’s no such thing.”

“Oh, good. Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

Savino answered him by planting his hands on Alfred’s shoulders and leaning up to kiss him. Alfred smiled into the kiss and tightened his grip on Alfred’s shoulders. The roses were crushed in between them, but for the moment he had more important things to focus on.

By the time Savino broke the kiss, they were both grinning stupidly at each other. “Wow, we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Alfred said.

Savino laughed. “It would’ve been easier than climbing into your room to leave flowers all those times.”

Alfred reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not sure how, but I’m gonna figure out a way to be with you. Before we met, I��d resigned to marrying some random princess for political reasons. The best I could’ve hoped was learning how to like her eventually. But now I know what it’s like to be happy, to be with you, and I’m too selfish to give that up. I won’t.”

Savino swallowed a lump in his throat. “Even if it meant you’d have to give up everything else in your life?”

“Even then.” He brushed a featherlight kiss over Savino’s temple. “You’re worth it, sweetheart.”

Savino’s logical side told him he shouldn’t believe Alfred, because he was making ridiculous promises no one in his position would actually keep. But the way he was treating him so softly and the way he’d called him sweetheart made Savino believe him. He smiled as he pulled back and walked over to Alfred’s bookcase. He unwrapped the roses from their makeshift wrapping and arranged them in Alfred’s empty vase.

“The flowers I got you are horribly squished, by the way.”

“Well, that’s okay. I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else.”

That sentiment was so adorably, earnestly Alfred that Savino couldn’t help himself. As soon as he walked back to Alfred, he kissed him again, and Alfred eagerly reciprocated.

“I guess this is goodbye, for now. I need to sneak back out before another guard comes on duty.”

Alfred tipped his forehead against his, and they swayed back and forth in a slow mimicry of a dance. “I’ll help you sneak in tomorrow. If you come by earlier, you’ll get to stay for longer.”

He’d love that. He loved Alfredo, and it was complicated, but no longer hopeless. He backed up towards the open window, and Alfred walked with him. “I love you, Fredo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too. Will you be safe getting down?”

“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”

Alfred peered out the window as Savino climbed out the window and very carefully descended down the castle wall. He was still standing by the window by the time Savino had made it to the ground, and he only left after Savino waved to indicate that he had made it down safely.

Gilbert smirked at Savino as he was walking past him. “Another successful flower delivery?”

Savino shrugged. “The flowers were a little squished, but I don’t think Alfredo will mind.” I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else. Savino grinned at the memory of what Alfred had said. He probably wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for at least a week.

Gilbert’s chortling followed Savino as he walked down the well-worn path between his own small house and the castle where Alfred and his family slept. His smile stayed with him even longer, until he was drifting off to sleep in his own bed.

#hetalia #romerica #aphrarepairweek #aphrarepairweek2021 #hws america #hws romano #hws south italy #hws prussia #aph america #aph romano #aph south italy #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #hws fanfic #hws fanfiction #aph fanfic #aph fanfiction #my writing #original post

[purefrostbyte]

Heavenly Bride

BNHA Japanese God AU

Agyo!Bakugo

 Rating: Smut

Heavenly Bride

 The ash blonde was sat at his desk, looking through shitty paperwork and answering prayers. He had been stressed all day, and the fact everyone in the Heavenly Realm added onto it didn’t help his nerves. He was about to throw a tantrum at a poor palace guard when your voice filled his ears, the honey laced sound that instantly made him sit back down and listen to what you had to say. He remembers the first time he heard you, you had done nothing but ask him questions, sitting by his statue in the temple while you cleaned and polished it. At first he found you annoying, especially when you seemed to take a liking to talking to him every day. But as time went on and he heard more of your stories and questions, the ash blonde god found himself infatuated with you. The first time he saw you he had to physically stop himself from scooping you up and taking you with him back to the Heavenly Realm.

You were the most beautiful girl in your village, the villages pride and joy. You were kind and polite, though you definitely had a bit of an attitude. It only made Agyo fall harder for you. You often left offerings of red peppers, or on occasion when you could, a whole bowl of curry that the god would greedily scoff down before physically taking your plate back to you and leaving it in your room. The first time it happened you were shocked to see the bowl, thinking someone broke into your room to place it. But as time went on you started to realize the appearance of the bowl was a lot more heavenly then you could ever have thought. It was then he decided to plague your dreams, often finding ways to work you up and tease you to leave you hot and bothered in the morning.

He never directly told you who he was, but one look at him and you knew exactly who he was. He listen to your voice, guard long forgotten and fleeing in hope to not endure the wrath of the God of Overt Violence. Bakugo frowned when he heard you sniffle, and his fist clenched with the words you spoke. “Dear God Agyo. Help me please! My parents…they have betrothed me. I don’t wish to marry this man, word is he’s had 3 past wives who all vanished and…” you bit your lip as tears streamed down your face, sliding to your knees in front of his statue. Bakugo’s eyebrows furrowed, No! You couldn’t marry someone else, you were is goddamn it.

After your visit to the temple that night Bakugo didn’t hear from you. He had watched from above as you sat in you room, tears staining your beautiful kimono. It pained him to watch as something…someone, he had become attached to be filled with such sorrow and hatred. That was until one day, your fiancé had dared to raise a hand to you in public. Bakugo’s blood flowed hot with anger, and no amount of Heavenly Realm policy bullshit was gonna get in his way. The people of your village watched as a golden light flooded the street, gasping as a man appeared in the street. Unruly ash blonde spikes, a body of a god (Literally) with only a hakama hanging off his hips and those vermillion eyes that held nothing but anger for the man who had dared to strike you.

Your family gasped as Bakugo used his magic to send the man flying backwards, crashing through a brick wall that was surely going to leave a lot of damage to his body if not treated properly. The whole street bowed in respect to the God who had paid their village a visit, but Bakugo paid no mind to them as his rage continued to flare. He stepped forward, fully intending to beat the man to his last dying breath, but the feeling of your soft hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him. You family gaped from the sidelines, hissing for you to let go of the God and bow. Instead your eyes filled with tears and you hugged the Ash blonde god as you cried silently into his chest.

Bakugo held you close, glaring daggers at your family and in the direction of your now ex fiancé. “Listen here!” he yelled, voice booming with authority and power, “This is MY bride, and if any one of you ever lay a finger on her, you will find yourself in the deepest corners of hell. I’ll make bloody sure of it!” The village cowered in fear, shocked that their pride and joy was claimed by the god. He looked down at you, watching how your e/c eyes stared back at him in shock and happiness. He stroked your head before bending to whisper in your ear, “Let’s go home beautiful.” Your cheeks flushed as you nodded, taking his hand as he whisked you away from your village and your family.

You now stood in his study, gasping at the detail in the décor and how beautiful the whole place was. Bakugo wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him, breath tickling your neck in a way he knew drove you crazy. Your old kimono was now replaced, a beautiful white silk and satin kimono adorning your figure. You felt like a princess in it. Two large hands incased your hips and you were spun around to see your God. His vermillion eyes burnt holes into the bruise forming on your cheek and he wanted nothing more than to kill the man who had caused it.

Feeling his anger, you lifted one of his hands to cup your bruised cheek, nuzzling his palm affectionately as a sign that you were ok. “I should have killed him,” Bakugo voiced and you shook your head, voice coming out softly. “Death would be a mercy.” Bakugo let out a sigh of agreement and he watched as you nervously bit your lip, something you did when you had something to say but were afraid to say it. An action you only ever did with him.

“Talk to me beautiful, what’s on that mind of yours?” he rasped and you couldn’t help but crumble to his every want and need. “Did you mean it?” you whispered softly and Bakugo raised an eyebrow, “Did you mean it…when you said…that I’m-“ Bakugo let out a soft chuckle, “What? Did I mean it when I said that you’re my bride?” You let out a soft moan when he nipped at your ear and then dragged his tongue up your neck. “Every. Fucking. Word.” he growled and he enjoyed your content sigh when he pressed an open mouth kiss to your jugular.

You could feel your core dampen, he always had this affect on you. When he visited you in your dreams, he always left you wanting more and now was no different. Bakugo smirked against your neck, well aware of what he was doing. He wanted you needy, wanted you begging for him. He gently pushed you back against his desk, using magic to make all the unwanted things fly off so he could seat you on it. Your breathing hitched as Bakugo slotted in between your legs, hiking the skirt over your knees so he could grind against you. He smirked at you, that smirk that had your head spinning and knees buckling. He then moved his hips against yours and you threw your head back in pleasure. Bakugo’s grin turned feral and you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss.

He was surprised at first but quickly took charge and you happily opened up to allowed him to do what he wanted. He smirked into your mouth and snaked a hand down between your legs to rub circles against your clit. You pulled away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan loudly. Bakugo smirked, about to kneel down between your legs when you throw him off balance. He was now backed against the desk with you hurriedly undoing his hakama. You had sucked him off before, to be fair it had been a dream but technically you still had. Once he was rid of the article, you looked up at him with innocent eyes before sinking down to your knees. Bakugo couldn’t help but grin, finally having you here, like this, all for him. You wrapped your hands around his base and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan and thread his fingers through you c/h hair. You curled your tongue around his tip before taking it fully into your mouth and sucking. Bakugo growled and tuggged at your hair and you choked down the moan that blossomed in your throat, you didn’t want him to know you enjoyed that.

Bakugo noticed and he gripped the hair at the base of your skull and tugged harshly. The moan you produced was absolutely sinful. It sent delicious vibrations up his shaft and just as you decided to push him further down your throat, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. “Bakugo!” a voice called and Bakugo growled “Why now,” he groaned and he looks down at you. You were just about to pop off him when he grabbed you head and moved the both of you around the desk so that you were sat under it and in-between his legs. You look up at him and he simply smirked at you and put a finger to his lip. You nod and bit your lip as you heard the doors being thrown open.

“Dude! When were you gonna tell me you had a bride?!” You heard a cheery voice call as he entered the room. You took in a deep breath, nervous of being caught like this. “It wasn’t any of your damn business Shitty Hair! Now what do you want?” Bakugo snapped, fuck maybe he shouldn’t have placed you under the desk. Every breath you let out was directly on his member and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside you. You saw his member twitch, and you bit you lip as an idea popped into your head. It was risky and Bakugo could punish you because of it, but that thought only made you want to do it more.

You carefully shifted forward, mindful to not make any noise to alert the other God to of presence. You could just see Bakugo’s face from under the desk and you deliberately let out a breath on his tip. You watched Bakugo take a deep breath, eyes shifting down to look at you before looking back at the other god. “Dude,” the other God whined, “I wanna meet her! Come on, I wanna see what beautiful human captured your attention.” Bakugo hissed, not due to anger but due to you sinking fully down on him. ‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself, ‘Shitty Hair just fuck off!’

“You can…. You can fucking meet her at the wedding,” he snapped but the stutter alerted the other god. “Dude you good? You stuttered.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, fingers snaking down into your hair. “I’m fine Shitty Hair, but I got shit to do and you’re keeping me from it.” Kirishima smirked at Bakugo, “Oh? Is it planning the wedding, or claiming her as yours?” Bakugo growled and you couldn’t help but freeze. Did he know you were there? Bakugo gave your hair a small squeeze of reassurance. “Shitty Hair what happens in my bedroom is none of your fucking business. Can’t you go find your ‘little lion’ and leave me alone!?” Kirishima chuckled, “Alright dude! I’ll go, but I wanna meet her. And before the wedding!” Bakugo growled, “Fine.”

You waited for Kirishima’s steps to dissipate completely before popping your head out from under the desk. “Fuck,” he groaned and he looked down at you, “You sure are a little Kitsune aren’t you? Sucking me off with someone who could easily have caught you.” He moved his chair back and patted his lap and you happily obligated to sit down. “Ah,” he said, a smirk pulling at his face, “Kimono off.” Your face flushed but you obeyed, slowly undoing the ribbons that held it all together before letting it gracefully slip down your shoulders. Bakugo growled, licking his lips before beckoning for you to come and sit down on him.

You bit your lip as you began to straddle his legs, breath hitching when you feel his tip kiss the rim of your core. Bakugo placed a hand on your hip, “Relax Princess, let me take care of you.” He whispered and you relaxed and let him take the lead. He guided you down and you couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped you. When you were fully seated you lay your head on his shoulder, breathing deeply as you adjusted. Bakugo held you close, sucking the tender skin of your neck to distract you. His ears drunk in your quiet whines and soft moans, enjoying the way he sunk his teeth into you and sucked your skin in a possessive nature.

You bucked your hips experimentally and you moaned at the feeling of Bakugo’s tip just kissing you sweet spot. You took a deep breath, before lifting your hips up and dropping back down. Bakugo groaned at the way you squeezed him and you moaned at the feeling of being full. Bakugo slid his hand onto your ass and squeezed, starting to help you bounce up and down on him. “Baku,” you moaned, burying your head into the crook of his neck. Hearing you call him like that made everything in him spark. He picked you up and slammed you into the desk, thrusting hard and deep into you making you see stars. “Katsuki,” he rasped against the shell of your ear. “Huh?” you asked, words not forming due to the amount of pleasure you were in. “My name is Katsuki, and I want you to moan it so loud the whole Heavenly Realm can hear.”

He rammed into you, biting and sucking at your neck causing you to scream and wither in pleasure under him. “Katsu-….oh god Katsuki!” you moaned and Bakugo growled into your ear. “You gonna cum baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer due to how you squeezed him. “Cum for me,” he ordered and you obeyed like the obedient girl you were. You came around him, screaming his name and clamping down around him. Bakugo groaned and came after you, due to the way you squeezed around him.  “Fuck baby,” he groaned as he stopped moving. You were still panting, hair sticking to you due to sweat. “Come on baby,” he whispered picking you up, “I think you deserve a nap.”

#aygo!bakugo #bnha japanese god au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha #bnha smut