#hard to see something like this happen in a place that matters sm to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nouvxllev · 1 month

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

316 notes · View notes

zuyoo · 2 months

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linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애

CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D

SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend

ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA

p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!

it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)

you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?

he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.

nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.

their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!

it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still treat each other the same way, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.

he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.

or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.

he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.

but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.

your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.

“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”

and how you wished you were right.

“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear as day.

it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.

nagi’s completely clueless!

you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?

at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.

even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.

still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.

or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!

“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.

you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.

did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?

does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.

he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.

there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.

you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.

after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.

you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.

it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.

ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.

you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.

“y/n! come join us.”

you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!

it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.

“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”

nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.

“i was busy.”

you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.

why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?

unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?

you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.

the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.

when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.

it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.

you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.

this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.

what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.

“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”

nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.

“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”

“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”

maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.

“sorry.”

“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”

he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.

“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”

“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”

“oh. sorry.”

that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?

“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”

“hey-!”

okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!

a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.

maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.

“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”

“what?”

his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless

“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”

you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.

“i-”

“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”

“okay but-”

he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.

“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”

bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.

he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:

“ah-… i liked you…too?”

329 notes · View notes

lovelaetter · 9 months

Text

I'LL MAKE YOU CRY — a 2k celebration work.

here are two things about you: one, you always had a weakness for pretty girls, and two, you've never been good at dealing with not getting the things you want.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: sub!idol!ningning x dom!idol!reader.

warnings: abuse of power, age difference (reader is a 2nd gen idol, in her 30s), noncon turned dubcon, semi-public sex, reader is a manipulative mean bitch with mommy dom vibes and is proud of it, ningning is just a confused, stupid baby and her brain goes fuzzy around older women, excess of en-dashes and italics because that’s how your fav author here is.

a/n: i need to stop mentioning a fic and then writing something completely different... anyways, this idea came to me after @wintersera sent me an ask (which i hope you don’t mind me writing this instead of answering, love), let’s say something clicked inside my head instantly. also, this was supposed to be way more noncon-ish but i wasn’t satisfied to how it was going. go to end of the work for more notes!

Bo-Ah caught you looking at Seulgi for too long one day and made sure to pinpoint how your weakness for pretty girls would get you in trouble, not exactly in those words but it was what she meant and neither as a scold but in a friend-ly, you will get in trouble and i won’t help you with it because i warned you enough way. It didn’t mean anything to you at the time as you met someone else and Seulgi no longer occupied space in your mind but now you see how that didn’t make her less right.

As hard as it is to believe, you didn’t drag Ningning to your dressing room with sex in mind. Sure, as the new object of your affection you had thought of it with her before, but your intentions today were genuine and nice, truly.

A break during the end of the year performance rehearsals and recordings, leading her through the SM’s building corridors, sitting down together in your room. An offer— you see, I’m working on my next album and there’s this song that I really want to include but it feels like it’s missing something, realization dawning in her face, and I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks now, i’ve talked to the producers, they think it’s a good idea, that our voices fit… I could’ve asked someone else to talk to you obviously but I thought a more personal approach would be nicer. So, what do you think? Would you like to collaborate with— and a lovely reception, an eagerness to accept like you’ve never seen before, cutting you off— yes!, looking down in embarrassment right away but not holding back the biggest smile, I mean, of course, it would be an honor.

So no, you didn’t had sex in mind and yet, being alone with her, you allowed your mind to wander.

“You are a really pretty girl,” you say after a few minutes in silence just staring at her.

“Thank you,” she says, so low you barely hear it and flinches when you suddenly slide closer to her from your spot, elbow on the back of the couch, trapping her in place.

It happens too fast and in the end, Bo-Ah surely wasn’t wrong. Your hand rests on her knee for a moment, sliding up, up slowly, taking hold of her thigh — you’re looking for putting yourself in trouble at this point. Ningning follows your touch up her leg with her gaze, watches your hand for a moment before looking back at you, promptly parting her lips to speak.

Maybe it was the wide eyes, shining for you with a glimpse of fear and confusion or the so pretty, plump lips that she insisted on running her pink tongue over or the blush painting her cheeks or— maybe it was everything and the months of watching her from afar, fantasizing about her, it’s not the point, all it matters is that before she can say anything you lurch forward, lips crashing onto hers. Takes a moment for her to react, frozen, and when she does it’s what the part of you with a good sense of morality expects, using all in her to push you away.

Closes her legs so hard your wrist hurts, fists against your chest while squirming and whines and stops and what are you doings are falling from her mouth. Impatience creeps up your spine and you snap yanking your hand from between her thighs, taking one of her wrists in hand roughly, snorting, so close to her face your breaths mix. She tries to break free for a moment more, chest up and down fast while staring at your not-so-happy face.

Tilting your head to the side and arching an eyebrow like who asks you’re done?, says, “I’ve never been good at dealing with not getting what I want,” you lean over to whisper in her ear, “Also, I heard Minjeong would love to collaborate with me. Once in a lifetime opportunity, you know?

It’s cruel the way you say it and she’s not stupid, knows how to put two and two together, the tears sliding free down her cheeks. Whimpers as your lips move from her earlobe to her jaw and down her neck, easing your grip on her wrist and the hand on your chest pushing you away drops to her lap. You grin against her skin and mutter a good girl, hand crawling under her shirt to grab her waist, pulling her more into your body. Part of your brain tells you to snap, to tear her clothes from her, take her like you always imagined, but the other part knows better than scaring her more and that time isn’t in your favor; you’ve been away with her for a few minutes, you still have a performance to record and soon the break will be over and someone will come looking for both of you.

Looking at her you can’t help but coo when she gasps as your fingers slide under the hem of her bra and grope one of her tits, a smirk taking place in your lips. “No, honey, not like that, come on, let me see you,” as she tries to turn her head, your other hand taking hold of her jaw and forcing her to keep looking at you.

You’ve fucked many girls in your life and yet, the euphoria that fills you upon hearing her moan and seeing her expression as you touch her is something completely new.

Her skin is feverish and your hands too cold making her shiver, not so gently taking one of her nipples between thumb and point finger, rolling and pulling it, eyebrows twitching and a whimper escaping past her lips. It’s accidental, her hands flying instantly to cover her mouth, and barely audible but enough to go straight to your core, to have you squeezing your legs looking for relief.

“You are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” You say in a low tone, never breaking eye contact with her, “What about this?”

Your free hand follows the same path as the other underneath her shirt and her back arches in a wordless answer. There’s a sick satisfaction in making her fall apart while she insists it doesn’t feel good, in seeing her body betray her pleas for you to stop.

“Take this off,” you rush, pulling her shirt up. Ningning refuses to put her arms up and tries to pry your hands away from her body, claw-like nails digging into your arms as she keeps begging for you to stop but you don’t hesitate on slapping her hands away, forcing her arms up as well as her shirt in a swift movement. She stills, stares at you dumbfounded and you scoff, “What? It’s okay to play with your little tits but you draw the line at me seeing them?”

It’s not okay and you know it. She tries again to push you away when you lean closer to reach behind her back and open her bra, failing to realize her position between the couch and yourself and that all her squirming only gets her body more and more into yours. She stops then as the straps slide down her arms and the piece falls to her lap, chest to chest with you, her face twisting and there’s that noise again, the whimper that makes your insides burn. She looks too pretty, teary wide eyes and blushed cheeks, lips parted and tempting you for a kiss. The idea of sitting on her face crosses your mind and the mere thought of her looking up at you from between your legs with the same wide eyes makes your hole clench around nothing, you can feel yourself growing slick.

But now your tongue craves to taste her much more than your own cunt craves her mouth.

Even her skin tastes nice on your tongue, going gooseflesh as you suck on a certain point of her neck and the effect it has on her is some kind of sorcery. She seems to forget everything; the struggling, the begging, where you two are. Fails to keep quiet when your mouth reaches her breasts, taking one nipple gently between teeth and sucking it greedily. You feel her bucking her hips, searching for friction, and glance up at her, seeing the way she covers her mouth with a hand trying to muffle her noises, tears rolling down her cheeks while she stares into your eyes with a certain look that makes you grin against her chest — no more fear or disgust but shame for liking it something so vile being done against her.

After a few minutes you pull back to admire your work, her chest heaving, puffy nipples shining with spit and even though you know better than to leave marks, the bruise looks cute on the soft underside of her breast. Your hand slides down her belly in no time, toying with the hem of her sweatpants for a moment before sliding further down between her legs and she begins squirming again, gripping on your shoulder and trying to push you away in vain, making you chuckle, watching her face carefully.

It’s a sight to see, the way her fighting merges with acceptance, clenched fists against your chest at the same time she lifts one leg so her foot can rest on the couch, unconsciously — or not — spreading herself and making it much easier for you to feel her soaked entrance through her underwear. Suddenly so quiet as you pull it to the side, no stops or crying or begging, only a shaky you’re sick cut off by a moan as a finger slides inside her.

It takes one, two, three slow ins and outs and the press of your thumb on her clit to have her melting, hands that once pushed you away now grabbing onto your shirt just for the sake of it, pliant under you like you wanted her to be from the beginning. Still, it’s not enough.

Your movements slow down almost to the point of stopping, no other choice for her but move on her own trying to feel something and you let her.

“Ningning?” She hums absently in answer, more cunt-thinking than anything else. You kiss her cheek lovingly and drag your lips to her ear to whisper, “Why aren’t you screaming?”

Ningning stills and frowns, blinking at you. “What?”

“Why aren’t you screaming? I never tried to stop you from doing so.”

She just stares at you in confusion, mouth open-close-open-close like a fish out of water, “I don’t—”

“None of that! Just admit it, silly girl, it’s nice, isn’t it?” She moans loudly as your thumb is suddenly too fast and slippery over her clit and your hand is fast over her mouth, hissing quiet! through teeth. “I’ll ask you again, why aren’t you screaming?”

You uncover her mouth and she takes a few deep breaths. She looks down between your bodies, at where your hand disappears and moves inside her pants and the squelching noises get louder as her hole gets wetter around your finger. When she looks back at you, her lips tremble and the tears are back in her eyes, ready to spill. It’s really quiet, between sniffs and if you weren’t so close to her you certainly wouldn’t have heard it, “Because… Because I like it?”

There she is.

“You do?” Your smile is so big your cheeks hurt, voice sugar coated and you know you look crazy or sick like she called you. “That’s my girl!”

You take her lips and there’s a brief moment of resisting before she’s yours completely, the tension leaving her body; parting her lips to let your tongue in. You pull away and she moves forward, following you with a pout, needing more, whining as you push her to lay back again. As you slide down to your knees, Ningning lifts her hips without you saying a thing, squirming impatiently when you take time to unlace and take off her sneakers, like the minutes aren’t passing — like you aren’t salivating.

Ningning is not the biggest example of patience, shoves her own pants and underwear down and spreads her legs wide, sitting more at the edge of the couch, closer to your face. Pretty just like you thought she would be, soaked and glistening under the lights, wetness sliding out of her cunt and down to her ass.

“Look at you,” you say, kissing a path on the inside of her thighs but never looking away and she squirms a bit uncomfortably under the weight of your stare.

Hands in your hair urge your mouth closer and you’re too desperate to tell her to not touch, so instead, you give in.

She’s salty and sweet and so much better than you could’ve imagined, mouth wide open and not holding back, doing your best to savor every single drop she gives you and more. Too wet, too much, tries to close her legs when your nose bumps repeatedly against her clit, which has you using both hands to force her legs spread and barking for her to stop moving. She struggles to keep quiet and it’s totally your fault, you should be careful, but there has never been anything careful about the way you eat pussy and it shouldn’t be different with her, especially with her. Head side to side, tongue flat and up, up, down, down, deeper into her hole—

You sit back on your heels, panting, fingers replacing your mouth on her slit and smearing arousal all over her puffy lips, her breath hitching when your middle and index finger slide inside her with ease while you watch slightly in awe, straight and deep, scissoring movements to stretch her open, her eyes rolling back when you crook them up.

Ningning curses under her breath, toys with her own tits in a failed way to try and mimic how you played with them earlier, the constant rubbing of your fingers against the spongy spot inside her being too much for her to think straight and not enough for her to cum and you know that, it’s on purpose and all on your face, a shark-like grin, your eyes flickering between her pretty face, eyes closed shut and biting her lip so hard you worry she might hurt herself, and her pussy, how your fingers come out more wet at each pump and her clit is begging for your attention.

She can barely open her eyes, a small line that is more tears than anything else looking down at you. Reaches for your wrist and pulls it more into her, fingers deeper, holding it so tightly it hurts, gasps, “Just a little—”

Kissing her mound, you nod, “Shh, I know, honey, I know.”

And you do know, not thinking much before using your free hand to expose her clit and spitting on it, action that has her almost sliding from the couch with how hard her hips buck. Slippery and red and aching, you wrap your lips around it and moan against her, sucking mercilessly.

If you were in the mood to be meaner, you would hold her down; if you had more time, you would be meaner; if you weren’t in a dressing room fucking her during a break and risking being caught, you would have more time, so you let her have her fun rocking against your face in a desperate search for relieve, almost like fucking your mouth.

Ningning tosses her head back and you can’t see more than her mouth falling in a soundless scream, your hand crawling up her torso to touch the breasts she had now let go and it’s impossible to drag you deeper and yet it’s what it feels like with her walls clenching around your fingers.

There’s a soft touch on your forehead, a push, harder and harder when your mouth doesn’t back away from her core, a cry from above you, “S-top, I can’t—”

You barely move to speak, annoyed, “Don’t you dare push me away again.”

She doesn’t.

It’s not for her pleasure anymore but yours and you couldn’t care less, slurping noises filling the room, the thought of if someone outside can hear it crossing your mind. The way her body curls up, small hands grabbing at your hair to the point it hurts, her pretty face twisted in such a scowl that if you didn’t know you would think she is in pain with the moments that pass and your tongue doesn’t stop swirling around the sensitive bud between her legs driving her into overstimulation, all of it makes your desire to keep going until she’s wasted increase and it’s a shame that you can’t. To her relief you let go of her clit with a wet, loud sound, tongue flat in a last taste, and her body falls slack back on the couch, breathless, subtle twitches of her legs as you kiss the inside of her thighs, pumping your fingers a few more times before pulling out just to hear her whine again.

You stare at your glistening fingers, ready to lick them clean before an idea pops into your mind, rising from the floor to sit by her side. Ningning opens her eyes as you get closer to her, teary orbs widening as you grab her by the neck, not saying a thing before shoving your fingers past her already parted lips and filling her mouth with her own taste. You don’t apologize when you reach too deep and she gags, instead presses down on her tongue and smiles proudly when she starts to suck.

“Good girl,” you mutter, transfixed by the way her lips wrap around your fingers and her head bobs slightly, one hand holding your hand in place, eyes looking into yours, “I told you it was going to be nice, didn’t I?”

“It was,” she says, letting go of your wrist and your digits fall from her lips, your hand sliding to her waist, leaving a trail of spit behind. She smiles, “I had fun.”

Ningning looks cute, at ease, like a switch had been flipped inside her head considering how she was struggling against you minutes before, now not caring that she’s still completely naked in front of you nor about the way you hungrily stare down at her.

“You should get dressed, soon someone will come looking for you.”

Her face falls, something close to disappointment washing over it and not going unnoticed by you, caressing her cheek and making her look at you while arching an eyebrow as if who says what?

Ningning huffs and blows a strand of hair a bit childishly, then gestures to your body, “You don’t want me to… repay the favor?”

“Are you that desperate to touch me?” You say nonchalantly, smirking at the way her face reddens twice more and she stutters to explain herself. “I’m messing with you. Next time, yeah? Now get dressed.”

It’s adorable the way her eyes shine at the mention of next time, nodding happily. You get up and walk to your vanity desk, looking through your makeup artist’s things in search of something to clean her face. Shooting a glance to the mirror, you watch her.

It feeds your ego to see a girl shaking and looking a bit lost because of what you did to her and it’s no different with Ningning, flushed face and pouting, too numb to properly stand and almost tripping on her pants. She struggles with her bra and you step closer, motioning for her to turn around and she promptly obeys, murmuring a quiet thank you when you clasp the piece.

She doesn’t object when you hold her chin, wiping her tears and mascara stained cheeks with cleansing tissues. “Unnie?”

“Hm?”

She chews on her lip nervously. “Are we… Can I… I mean, were you serious about the song?”

You tilt your head, frowning at her. She has her reasons to doubt you, you know that, but you can’t help but get offended.

“What, you think I lied to you? That I said that just to fuck you? You really think so low of me?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head frantically, has a hard time speaking because of how harshly you’re grabbing her face, “No, no, but you said Minjeong—”

“And? I say a lot of things when I’m mad. I do want you on the song, Ningning,” you say, more bitterly than you really meant, “but she’s a good second choice if you keep acting up.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Yeah, you better not.” You let go of her and walk to the other side of the room, throwing the wipes on the small trash can. There’s silence, only the annoying repetitive noise of the ceiling fan as you scribble your number down on a piece of paper, even adding a small heart and handing it to her. She takes it, unfolds to take a look and gasps, corner of her lips curving upward. “Don’t lose it, call me or text me tonight. I will also ask my manager to contact your team.”

“Oka—”

You cut her off with a kiss, hands flying to her waist and pulling her closer. Ningning moans against your lips and you wish you could torture her for a little more, savor her for just a few more minutes, but there’s a knock on the door, the familiar voice of her manager making her head snap around. She pouts, not wanting to let go either, turning back to you with a questioning look.

“What happened here, it stays between us,” she nods, giggling girlishly as you boop her nose and give her a last peck on the lips. “Now go.”

She leaves with a look over her shoulder and a small wave, to which you wink in return and mouth a call me, blush creeping up her face instantly. Afterwards, sitting down with your makeup artist doing her work on your face, you think about how much easier it is to play with her than you thought it would be — and how it might last.

a/n: so...that was it. i'm sorry if it feels rushed in certain parts and if it lacks on others, it’s not my best work and i wish i could’ve done something better but at certain point this was really stressing me out 😭 we hit 2k followers a few days ago and i'm really thankful for all of you guys and the support, it feels good knowing that there people out there that think like me! i'm sorry for not being as active as in the beginning, i'll try my best to fix that!

i think a few changes are going to happen, i don't know, i still have a lot of asks to answer and i don't know when i'll finish that, in a few days my anon inbox will be closed again 😭 i hope you guys understand that, i'm not ignoring anyone, it just overwhelms me! maybe i'll post more long fics, i have some ideas, or maybe just make more of my own posts like i said once... let's see!

i love all of you, thanks for being here with me for this whole year — yep, we also hit one year!

with love, simi 🤍

#writing.txt #aespa smut #ningning smut #ningning x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #girlgroup smut #gxg smut #aespa imagines #ningning imagines #cw: dubcon #cw: age difference #cw: power imbalance

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woozvc · 7 months

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all my love

based on this request (by @cienlvrs )

synopsis — vernon is a quiet person but he doesn't realise you see all his love.

pairing — vernon x gn!reader

word count — 746

warnings — hint of insecurities but it's not elaborated on, reader gets fired from work, tiredness

genre/s — non idol au, quiet x hyper, fluff

a/n — this is for @caratsland 's October event! a little sappy but wtf I love vernon sm 🥲

...My love only amounts to this

vernon is not a verbal person. he's always been the quiet one in his friend groups. during the beginning of your relationship it would usually be you who would initiate conversations. don't get it wrong, staying in silence with vernon is amazing but you liked his voice. there were moments where you wondered if vernon liked u the way u liked him. and he knew that. he felt immense love for you but he could never express it. did his love only amount to this?

....Me, who doesn’t know what to do.

What can I possibly do?

I’m sincerely sorry.

My love only amounts to this

But thank you for staying by my side

My baby

as you guys went on, you realised he loved you more than words could express. his love was quiet not silent. you guys got more comfortable with eachother, comfortable in your dynamic of you blabbering your heart out and vernon listing intently with short answers. it might seem rude to an outsider, but to you it was love. you loved vernons love. he was worried he wasn't doing enough, so he always did more. your rough days were rough for him too. he never knew how to respond to your hour long rants about how hard life is. he never knew what to say or what to do to make you feel better. so he listened, hoping itll be enough for you.

...I can do everything for you.

I only have a big heart that wants to give you everything

a year and half into your relationship and vernon was sure he could take a bullet for you. he was sure he could do anything for you. but, what? nothing felt right to do. he wanted to take you out on fancy dates but you always preferred his dates at home and so did he. he wanted to do something special but he never understood what the special was to you. he wants to give everything in the world to you and he wants you to receive. so do you. vernon doesn't realize you see him clean the kitchen after you say you're tired. vernon doesn't realise you see him work endless nights so that both of you could have the future you aspire to. vernon doesn't realise you see him look at you like you're his whole world. vernon doesn't realise you see his big heart.

..My love only amounts to this.

But my heart won’t change

three years into your relationship and vernon talks a lot more now. he tried his best to give more than a word answers, he tried his best for you to notice that he's listing. he's loved you since the day he saw you at his local music shop in the same asile as him and he loves you now. he knows his love for you is immeasurable, he knows it'll never fade. he knows no matter what happens you'll always be his beginning, middle and end but he still feels like it's less. he measures his love in an amount and for him it's not much. but he knows, no matter what happens, his heart won't change.

...I’ll be your umbrella when it rains.

I’ll protect you throughout all your days

now as u stand in your home, you're content. it's hard to remember how many years you have been with vernon. time flew and you heart stayed the same. your house is quiet mostly, vernon still basking in his silence like he always has. he has moments where he makes it obvious that he feels not good enough, but you're here to remind him u see it. you saw it when u ranted to vernon for the first time about getting a bad grade in math and the next day he got you new pens and suggested to sit with you and help you solve workbooks. you saw it when you got fired from your first job and he spend the next 3weeks driving to place to place. you saw it when he was there for you when no one else was. you've both realised you're going to be each other's forever. vernon says he'd like to be your umbrella on the bad days. little does he know, he's the reason the bad days dont seem so stormy anymore. you give him all your love, and he gives you all of his.

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deanscutiepiesam · 9 days

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⛤ Lots of yapping under the cut,, you've been warned lmao ⛤

Okay, so being a closeted Wincestie in a Destiel world is so hard, it's not even funny. Like, I'll find a Supernatural fan, and I'll get so excited to info dump with them and just talk about the show in general - no shipping involved - and then they'll go, "Soo,,, Dean and Cas, huh?? ;))"

So then I'm put in the position where I have to try to be respectful and not give myself away by saying something like, "I see the appeal, but it's not really my thing," and they'll look at me like I'm an alien and we'll just like never talk again?? And then I'm like, "I wonder how they would've reacted if I said I shipped the brothers?? 💀💀"

And like this isn't even a diss at Destiel enjoyers. I follow some artists for that pairing on Instagram because they're talented, I love good art, (and I'm desperate for spn content bc it's a wasteland over there 😭😭). And I'm totally chill with them long as they're not super aggressive about it. It's just something I've noticed about most of them.

Like they're just so sure that everyone ships them, and I'm like, "Damn, that must be so nice." Like I'm sure my family, friends, and other IRLs would burn me at the stake if I causally talked about Wincest like they do their ship (except maybe my mom, I think she might like Wincest,, idk), but they just get to assume everyone feels the same about Destiel and it's so wild.

And I know part of it is my fault. Like I could talk about Sam and Dean like they do Dean and Cas. I don't have to hide it. No one's making me. But I do like having friends and family sooo... yeah. Not happening. It's so interesting that they don't even have to worry about losing people. Like they're both silly little ships about silly little fictional guys,,, why does it matter?? Can't we all just get along?? 😭😭

Also, noooo,,, I totally didn't make this post partially because I'm salty that I can't share my Wincest edit on tiktok even though I spent so long on it because IRLs would see. And that I can't post Wincest fanart because someone could recognize my art style ☹️☹️

Anyway, yeah... I had this bottled up for a while, and this was like the only place I could share it, so if you read all that, thank you, sm <3 I'm so happy I came to this hellsite and found you guys!! <333 ♡♡♡

#rant post I guess??#it's hard out here #samdean #wincest #weirdcest #gencest

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uchihaxitachi · 10 months

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|| Coincidences | He comes to you after battle, struck with a Yandere Ninjutsu ||

-> A/N: I am a whore for yandere and I wanted to incorporate a whole ass big writing plot for this one. I softened up :( but I had sm fun!

Itachi had decided not to bring up the topic of you and him kissing each other, after noticing that you had already forgotten about it the next day. You were so high and drunk, it was to be expected. Right now? He had only one thing in his mind, getting over this mission to capture a group of Shinobis who were supposedly plotting against the Akatsuki. It’s not their plotting that was the problem, the Akatsuki also had matters with currency which solely depended on the members and their strength. Any contract whatsoever would cause issues if the image of the 12 dangerous S-Ranked criminals was to be hampered. Something which this thug gang, as Pein called them; was triffling around with.

Itachi out of all people? Why? Itachi’s senses played back the conversation that happened in the recent gathering.

Kisame: I really don’t know where Itachi has been these days, almost disappeared.

Itachi: I do not think I must keep you informed of my whereabouts, or the Akatsuki.

Hidan: Right? I totally agree, imagine me fucking a woman and then writing and updating about it to the leader.

Sasori: Can you shut up?

Pein: Silence! I am not here to interfere with anything. We can might as well leave them be. I just don’t want any nuisance that’s all. If anyone wants to willingly take care of this, they can. Else I will.

Itachi: I will.

Why? Because it was simple, taking care of them would prove that he gave a fuck about the organization, granting him more freedom to operate freely and less annoyance on his whereabouts and what he does otherwise.

Itachi just wanted to protect you, a civilian who’s life revolved around the most normalcy he has seen in his life years so far as a Shinobi.

The fight? Pretty easy. Struck them with his genjutsu and tortured them in the Tsukuyomi for what felt like an eternity. It was the very last member, someone who remained hidden while Itachi’s jutsu took focus, and attacked him with a poisoned potion laced knife. Itachi— had been taking various types of poisons everyday, little by little amounts. The evasion from the attack was easy, what was not easy was the scorching pain it landed him in.

After teaching them a lesson, making them traumatized for life as if it meant nothing, Itachi dragged himself out. All he had was some pain, he knew he couldn’t die from this. This was just— a scratch.

What would you have been doing right now?

A scratch that might- make him see hallucinations?

What if you needed him?

Still, just a scratch.

What if you missed Itachi so much?

Nothing too big, he will take care of it.

What if you remembered the kiss?

Pouring rain came onto Itachi, drenched in two things— love and sickness for you. A longing for you he couldn’t seem to satiate no matter how hard he could try. An uncanny and bizzare appeal to protect you burning.

Itachi had never acted out of place once, in the times you’ve interacted with him. Hell he was your safe space for the sake of it. Today? Itachi had knocked your door at 2 am. You weren’t asleep because you sleep late, but a pang of anxiety curled in your stomach as you mumbled, “Who’s there?”

“It’s me.” The quiet, sublime voice of the Uchiha greeted you.

“Itachi? You—” you rushed outside, immediately pulling the door open and glancing at him, drenched in the thunderstorm and eyes glinting happiness when he saw you. This time, Itachi initiated a hug. For the first time ever, the Uchiha’s hands snaked around your waist, catching you off-guard as he tugged you close, letting you collide against his chest. A soft gasp escaped you, unknown to his behavior, you looked up, smiling and bursting into a giggle. “Great, now we’re both fuckin’ drenched.”

Itachi smiled back, kissing your forehead as you widened your eyes, trying to register what in the actual fuck was happening before he let himself inside, taking his cloak off. You had seen Itachi naked, you had nursed him back to health— but still, the clothing stuck against his skin made you feel, weird in the best day.

“I’m going to take a shower, Y/N.” Itachi humbly spoke, paving his way to your bathroom. “Y-yeah.” You blinked, still getting used to what was happening. “Yeah- sure.”

You went into your bedroom to change as well, coming back to cook some soup and some ramen, filled with veggies. You were unsure if Itachi had properly eaten after all. “I can smell the aroma.” Itachi walked out, using the towel to dry his long hair, eyes darting towards your form in a carnal way. Itachi liked making eye contact but never— ever, this intense.

“Yes, wasn’t sure if you had eaten, Uchiha.” You smiled, tapping the wooden surface of the table to usher him closer. Itachi took the hint and sat beside you, breaking the chopsticks and digging into the first bite. “No wonder your business runs so well, my dear.”

My dear.

Itachi— was warm, dangerously warm with his tone. You had never heard him talk like this. “Thank you.” A flush ran through the apples of your cheek.

“How has it been for you? It’s been quite a while.” Itachi asked the next question.

“Uh, you know? The usual. Nothing much, no trouble as such.”

You were vague, as always. This time, Itachi pressed harder. “So nothing significant, huh?”

“Nope, oh yeah- there was this friend I met after a long time. The one crushin’ over me since High School.”

Nope- nope- nope- should not have shared this.

“A friend? Do I happen to have heard his name?” Itachi raised a brow, sounding ever so natural. “Ah nope, you don’t know him actually. It was good though, we spent some time. Reminiscing over old memories.”

What did you mean memories? What was so memorable about someone liking you? Does the man have a death wish?

“I see, happy that the person you met. Unknown to me, and you still haven’t told me the name of— made you feel better.”

You looked at Itachi and blinked, “Well his name is Kyosuke.” You rolled your eyes, “Don’t have to be so petty, Itachi.”

Itachi wasn’t being petty. Itachi was being careful. He didn’t want you to feel scared of him. Didn’t want to burden or scar you. Part of him, the hyper self aware part of him knew that something is wrong with him right now. “Good night.” Itachi got up, leaving half of the food and walking away.

“Itachi it’s still pouring outside, stay in.” Of course he will. He just wanted you to want him to do so.

“I know, I will sleep outside. Please feel free to go inside Y/N.” He smiled, flicking your forehead and making sure you don’t suspect a thing.

How could you really? He was not the master of deception for nothing. Worse bit of it all? When the next day you heard the terrible news of Kyosuke dying via suicide. How naive— if only you understood the depth of Itachi’s abilities to understand the carefully orchestrated murder he did. Why else would a normal guy commit suicide by gauging his eyes out, the same eyes through which he saw you as a potential partner?

Itachi is happy to hug you. Let you sob and cry in his arms while he tells you it’s going to be alright. Maybe even feel guilt enough when the jutsu fades… but then again, Itachi was never someone to shy away from murdering people. Maybe the jutsu brought the real, carnal, dangerous self on the surface, something that had been long dormant.

#itachi uchiha #naruto #itachi #naruto shippuden #itachi imagines #itachi x reader #uchiha x reader #itachi fluff #uchiha fluff #yandere itachi #yandere uchiha #yandere itachi x reader #yandere uchiha x reader #yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden

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headkiss · 2 years

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Hey!! how are u? Could i request a steve x shy! reader fic where she’s just having an anxiety filled day but doesn’t say anything cause she doesn’t want to burden steve and it ends up leading to an anxiety attack and steve comforts her through it?

hiiii thank u sm for requesting!!! i wrote this with what i know personally, but i know anxiety isn’t the same for everyone so feel free to request other scenarios, too <33 | 0.8k, hurt/comfort, tw anxiety and panic attack

It’s been a horrible, horrible day.

Every noise has been getting to you, every thought much louder than usual. It’s as if every little thing is slipping through your barriers, worming their way into your mind. You hate it.

The worst part is that it’s Steve’s day off and it’s meant to be a great day. Of course, you can’t control that it isn’t, but you feel guilty either way.

It started in the morning, waking up far too early, before the sun had even risen and unable to fall back asleep. You stayed in bed only to keep Steve’s arms wrapped around you. Then, an email from your boss talking about some changes being made. Far too many at once for your liking.

Everything kept piling up until, eventually, it boiled over.

You’re on the couch with Steve when it happens. You’re not even sure what’s playing anymore because it’s been muted, overtaken by the volume of your mind. Still, you don’t say a word about it to Steve.

He can tell something is wrong, but he knows that you sometimes take time with these things. That you have to process before bringing anything up. He still worries. You’re far quieter than usual and even now, as he has an arm curled around your shoulders to pull you close, you’re tense.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks.

Had he known that’s what would’ve been the tipping point, he would’ve kept his mouth shut.

Your hands shake and your head spins because where do you even start? What isn’t wrong? You feel awful for thinking this way, especially when you have the world’s best boyfriend right next to you but that’s the thing about anxiety. You can’t control it no matter how hard you try.

Breathing gets harder, and you make your escape as fast as possible. “Um. I'm going to the bathroom.”

You spring up from the couch and go to the bathroom. The door slamming behind you makes you wince. Your hands bury themselves in your hair, pulling at the roof only to feel something, anything other than the panic coursing through you.

Steve’s not far behind, though. Because he knows you and he knows exactly what’s happening even though you haven’t told him anything. He tries to calm himself down to be able to help you properly, he just hates seeing you this way.

Seeing anyone he loves in pain is awful, but it’s much worse when it comes to you. Because he doesn’t just love you, he’s in love with you, and it’s different—the way he feels about you.

You barely hear him knock on the door over the roaring in your ears, his worried “baby? I’m coming in,” muffled.

It’s getting harder to breathe, your chest tight. He opens the door even though you don’t reply, eager to get to you and help talk you down. He’s learned what helps, what makes you feel better, and he learned fast.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his hands reach for yours, easing them from your hair, some strands come away with them. He holds them tight in his grasp, grounding you. “You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

He takes a deep breath in, then out. You try your best to follow but it proves to be more difficult than it seems. He takes your hands and places them against his chest so you can feel it expand with each breath, feel his heartbeat.

“Good, you’re doing so good,” he keeps his hands resting atop yours, then runs them up and down your arms comfortingly. “That’s it. Again. In, out.”

After what feels like hours but might have only been minutes, it gets easier; following his rhythm. The sound of your heart racing in your ears fades away, slowing down. You lean forward and rest your head against Steve’s chest, he kisses the top of your hair.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing you say.

“None of that,” he tilts your chin up with his finger so you look at him, gentle as ever. “Never apologize, you hear me?”

“It’s just, today was supposed to be nice and- and relaxing, and I ruined it.”

“No, you didn’t. Still got lots of time in the day, okay? Are you tired?”

He knows the answer is yes. You usually are after what just happened, but he lets you say it for yourself. He’ll do whatever you want to make you feel better, anything at all.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Wanna nap?”

Another nod.

He holds you extra close when you’re in bed, one arm being used as your pillow—he doesn’t care if it goes numb, as long as you’re comfortable—and the other wrapped around your waist.

“Thank you for helping me, Steve.”

“I’m always here, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

And really, you do. He never lets you forget it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve harrington story #steve x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #stevie blurbs

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wordbunch · 11 months

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hopeless (Pippin x f!reader) pt. 1

PART TWO HERE

a/n: for all of you who asked for the Pippin fic... BEHOLD. and please don't hate me for making you cry. and please give love to this fic cause i put a lot of it into the story. I am open to negotiations about a part 2. ♥️ I love him sm and I WILL put him into the most terrible situation 😩 I recommend this song to keep you company!

“You were being so brave” she breathed out in a hoarse whisper. Every word seemed to hurt and the harsh reality started to sink in - perhaps the battle-stricken fields were going to be the last place she would ever see.

The air was thick with the smell of loss, cold weapons and shed blood. With what little strength she had left she struggled to move her arm and lift a bruised hand to trail across Pippin's dusty cheek. Time seemed to be frozen, and somehow simultaneously running relentlessly. By Valar, why wasn’t there more of it? Suddenly the whole strenuous quest seemed to be painfully too short.

“I am so…proud of you,” she let out with a broken little smile, trying to stop her lower lip from quivering; whether from blinding physical pain or heartbreak, it was impossible to tell. The pain from the stab wound in her side was slowly extinguishing her will to move, speak, even to breathe.

The ringing in Pippin's ears was an unsettling mixture of echoes of battle noises, his own heartbeat, and her usually resonant, joyful voice now being a strained whisper. This couldn’t be happening.

If he blinked really hard a couple of times and really focused on the faraway memories of his home, he would wake up back in the Shire, and by some divine magic [y/n] would be there, radiant and happy. And alive. Right? Right.

Perhaps not.

Even after he blinked, she was still lying sprawled half on the rough terrain, half in his panicked arms. Was it going to be the last time he’d see the glint in her captivating eyes?

Although he wasn’t sure whether she considered him just a good friend, a comforting presence and a guaranteed good laugh, or she might have loved him in a different way, for all he knew it wasn’t going to matter anymore.

Of all the times Pippin had been impulsive in unimportant situations, he could never bring himself to be like that in the moments when it might have changed something. Borderline stupid bravery seemed to be reserved for anything but telling [y/n] that he loved her so ardently that it shook him to the core of his being. Apparently the perfect moment to do it was thrust upon him in the most gruesome way.

Love was the quiet exchange of an inside joke, a giggle muffled by a hand over the mouth, just as much as it was the twist of a knife and a tunic drenched in blood.

“Please,” he finally stuttered out, blinking away the tears with little success, “y-you can’t-” he breathed in sharply, breath hitching in his throat. One of his hands found a way to her tangled hair to move it out of her face, and found her cheeks to be damp with tears too. It was more than enough for the remainder of his courage and usually unwavering optimism to dissipate.

A flurry of memories came flooding back when her chapped lips offered him a sad smile.

She secretly passing him a small share of her food, as a substitute for the second breakfast Aragorn had dismissed.

The way that she confided in him when she was struggling on the journey and how he was ready to make an absolute fool of himself in order to make her crack a smile.

Every time Merry had made fun of him for how shamelessly he wanted to be near her and talk to her.

How she laughed with just a pinch of disbelief when the two of them told her exaggerated stories of their mischievous undertakings (and how he was convinced she was looking at him just a bit more often out of the two).

Her voice in tune with his when she joined him if he was quietly singing to himself as a distraction from the creeping darkness mingled with despair.

Sleeping on the rough forest floor was all the more bearable if she was peacefully breathing just an arm’s reach away from him.

Her kindness and complete lack of judgment whenever he messed something up unintentionally, and how he criticized himself for being a disappointment in front of the most enchanting person in all of Middle-earth.

Every time he joined her during her shift of the night watch; even when he was really sleepy, spending time with her was better than the coziest sleep.

The struggle of coming up with compliments worthy of her beauty.

Marveling together at the magical trees in Lórien, too excited to sleep.

Her willingness to stay up and ramble on about anything until he could fall asleep again after looking into the palantír.

And how she promised she will stay in Gondor as long as he was there, making him feel a little less small and a little less alone surrounded by a bunch of human strangers.

“i can’t lose y’ now,” he confessed hastily, hit by the realization that every second was, though short, of incredible importance. “Not before telling you that I love you, even if I think it’s hopeless, even if there are so many better people for you to love… but I do, and I would have been happy just being your friend, j-just being near y’ for the rest of time.”

Pippin paused for a moment to catch his breath, and [y/n] found his hand that was on her cheek, putting her own over it weakly.

“And I’m sorry and I-I know it doesn’t make sense,” he gestured vaguely at their surroundings with his free hand, “none of this does. But I can't let you go without telling you that somebody really loves you through it, even if it is just me.” At that point he was fully crying - why hold it back anymore - and she felt so, so overwhelmingly tired.

“I wanted to show you the Shire and the bluest lake I’ve ever seen,” he sobbed in a feeble attempt to comfort both himself and the fatigued girl in his arms, “a–and there’s this tree with really big butterflies - you would’ve loved them - and I wanted to keep making you laugh until you forgot how to be sad at all.”

For a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he felt incredibly guilty for throwing all those confessions at her at once; but before he was able to apologize profusely, with her last bit of strength [y/n] tangled her fingers in his tousled curls and pulled him down to shakily brush a kiss against his forehead; so weak that it was barely a kiss, but at least it was anything at all, before the world she’d loved and fought for faded to black under her heavy eyelids.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings

@thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @sillyvampireboi @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth

#lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr x reader #lotr imagine #pippin x reader #pippin took x reader #lord of the rings #lotr #pippin took #from my pocketses #Spotify

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se1f · 5 months

Note

I'm so sorry if it's a manifesting based question and you don't have to answer it if you don't want to

So I feel like I've been living in a loop for 3 yrs now I've tried everything loa,void everything...deep down I know I deserve so much better and I also believe I can get it I just don't know exactly how...new year's coming I really don't wanna live like this I honestly just wanna end it but what then? I've to live again, another life then another then another.... I just want myself in a better place and I'm sorry if it feels like a trauma dump but I'm so tired of everything... I see everyone here living their best lives and people around me too and I just feel unlucky ugly and what not... I wanna realize self and also live a good life..how can I go about that?

Also English isn't my first language but I tried my best ♥️ and I love you and your work I resonate with you sm

please dont feel sorry at all for sending this in! it is completely alright <33

speaking from the perspective of another seeming human being- you do deserve it all. life can be complicated, and the act of comparing yourself to others can definitely cause some troubled feelings to arise. this step isnt necessary, but i would recommend you to love yourself! see your worth! you seem to be very dedicated in achieving the life you deserve, and i believe thats something to be very proud of. not only does your perseverance reflect your strength, but of your beauty. im not speaking of the deranged societal beauty standards that exist. i am referring to the beauty of your humanity. the refusal to give up. to keep walking the path of existence in a world that can be so frightening. many times, one does not truly wish to perish into dust, but for their suffering to be remedied. i do hope you are being supported at this time, and receiving any type of aid that may ease your troubles.

know that there is nothing to realize, as you are already THAT. while you do seemingly appear to be just a human being- you are more than that. words cannot even being to describe you, as you are beyond them. you are everything, and no-thing. what is appearing to happen before you, isnt actually occurring. it is just an illusion. there is nothing actually happening. that is why there is nothing to even change. the life you are trying to attain, and the life you seemingly experience now, are the same. both are an illusion. for THAT, there is no difference between forms. THAT doesn't really have a preference. neither life is better nor worse. it just is.

if nothing is truly happening, then does that not mean time is also an illusion? why wait for the new year? for THAT, everything is instantly THAT. THAT already has everything the illusionary you could wish for. realize there is no-body here to "get" anything. why would you wait for the validation of XYZ's existence through something that doesn't even exist? doesn't that seem silly? THAT pervades all illusionary senses, meaning sight, hearing, touch, smell- etc. once THAT knows XYZ is, then so it is. the illusionary human body is limited, it can never compare to THAT. so why allow it to dictate what is "real" or not? there is no waiting, you only wait because you seemingly think you are this body.

it does not matter what you seemingly think/believe to be true- or even sense. it can never affect THAT (unless "you" want it to). what you seemingly desire, already is. i hope this helped, even in the slightest!! i recommend checking out my masterlist, as the reblogs/posts are organized. you got this anon!! i know it's been hard, but know that it will be sweet from here on out!! i know it will be :)

#asks

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gingerjunhan · 5 months

Note

hellooo can i request being in a situationship with the heroes? can you make it a little 🤏 angsty please coz i wanna hurt mah self SHAHHAHA

thank you!! love your works sm!

☆彡 oooo angst you say? 🤭 I will try my best! Hopefully this came out to be what you wanted. Thank you sm for the love! 🩷🩷

word count: 2180 | pronouns used: none | genre: (slight) angst, situationship | cws: making out, suggestive (if you squint) w/ Gunil and Seungmin, implied drinking, swearing, non-idol!au kinda?, reader gets hit on, lmk if I missed anything!!

goo gunil

Typically, when Gunil liked someone, he was all in. But now that his job had strict dating guidelines, you found yourself sneaking around a lot. This was your third meetup of the week that you found yourself sneaking Gunil into your place.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just come in the front door,” you complained.

“Because,” he rolled his eyes as he was shuffled in through the back door of your house. “If someone sees me come in here my job is good as gone. And, I don’t know if you know this, but you can’t have a band without a drummer.”

You and Gunil had been seeing each other on and off for about two months now. You weren’t dating- you haven’t even talked about dating. You had known Gunil from school, and once you rekindled your past relationship with him, it had turned into whatever was happening between the two of you now. You or Gunil would get lonely during the day, which lead to one of you sneaking the other into your house. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have feelings for him, but you would also be lying if you said you weren’t annoyed by the secret keeping. The whole situation was very confusing, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all.

“So,” Gunil made his way over to you, putting his hands on your waist. “How was your day?” His lips found yours before you even had a chance to answer, and the next thing you knew you had made your way to the couch. You had both pulled away to catch your breath when Gunil spoke up again. “God, you’re so hot.”

You felt your cheeks burn and your heart rate speed up. You weren’t sure if it was out of attraction or confusion. Once again, before you could reply, Gunil began to kiss you again. As much as you wanted to question him on what was happening between the two of you, you would have to find a way to pry yourself away from his lips first.

kim jungsu

It wasn’t uncommon for Jungsu to spoil you and show you off. He often took you on nice dates, letting you dress up in your cutest clothes and have him parade you around on his arm. If you needed something, Jungsu would always give it to you no matter what. He was very sweet to you- always polite and rather affectionate. However, you were never allowed to meet his friends. For all they knew, Jungsu was single. And in all honesty, you were none the wiser.

“Jungsu?” You looked at him from across the table. He was holding your hand as you spoke. You swallowed hard, deciding to bite the bullet now. You couldn’t take this anymore. “What are we?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

You blinked at him once, twice, three times. “I-“ you looked over the table, taking in the food and the expensive wine he had bought for the both of you to share. “What is this?”

“What? This dinner?”

“Yeah,” you were so confused it was starting to make your head hurt. “Is this a date?”

Jungsu scowled at you. “No?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe you had just asked him that. He absentmindedly squeezed your hand. “Can I not just do something nice for you?”

You looked at him, baffled. He did this all the time. There was no way these weren’t dates. Maybe you were just thinking too hard about it.

“Oh,” you replied, feeling oddly sad. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he lifted your joint hands to his lips to give your knuckles a soft kiss. “Don’t worry about it.”

kwak jiseok

You and Jiseok had been on a few dates over the past couple of weeks, and you were really starting to like him. He was very smart and funny, and things between the two of you were going well. That was, until, you ended up in his bedroom one night, finding yourself in the middle of a deep late-night conversation.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked. You were currently laying on his chest with one of his hands in your hair. You could tell he was deep in thought.

“Oh, nothing much,” he replied simply.

“Are you sure? You can talk about it if you want. I’m all ears.”

Jiseok was quiet for a second before he let out a sigh. “I just…” he took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to date right now.”

You felt your heart shatter, but his hand still kept moving through your hair. A simple ”Oh.” was all you could give him in response.

“I just don’t think I’ve met the right person, y’know?” You opened your mouth to speak, but words seemed to be failing you. “I really like you, but I don’t know if I could date you.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t get me wrong, (Y/N),” he began. “I really do like you a lot. I mean, c’mon, you’re the whole package,” he chuckled. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to commit to a partner yet.”

“Oh,” your hurt feelings were clearly very evident in your voice. You began to sit up. “That’s okay. I can go if you’d like me to.”

“No! I want you to stay,” Jiseok pulled you back down to him. “I just… need more time to think. I want to keep seeing you, but I don’t know if I’m ready to say that we’re dating yet. Does that make sense?”

You thought about it for a second. You felt like your world was just turned sideways. “Uh, yeah,” you lied. “Sure. We can do that.”

Jiseok kissed the crown of your head and held you tighter. “Awesome. Thanks for understanding, baby.”

oh seungmin

ding! You were about to fall asleep when a text message so rudely pulled you from your soon-to-be slumber. Picking up your phone, you winced at the light. It was Seungmin.

hey. you awake?

No way in hell he just hit you with the infamous, ”You up?” You started typing out a reply.

now I am

what do you need?

What he sent you next absolutely baffled you. The next text you received from Seungmin was a selfie. He was shirtless, and his pajama pants were hanging low on his hips. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at the picture.

missed you today baby

He does this all the time. You and Seungmin weren’t dating, and if you had to guess he felt no attraction towards you in the slightest. However, he flirted with you constantly. The two of you were friends, but recently your relationship had become… different.

He was much more touchy now, and you were happy to reciprocate. Seungmin had always been one of your closest friends, so hugging or platonic cuddling was no problem for you. However, that had now turned to longer embraces, movie nights spent wrapped up in his sheets, pet names, and soft kisses given to the crowns of each other's heads. Something was clearly going on between the two of you- but neither of you had bothered to ask what it was.

oh yeah?

You were honestly so focused on his toned torso that you couldn’t think of a better reply. You watched as he typed a reply.

yes baby

missed you so much

are you free tomorrow? I wanna see you

You thought about your day and let out a sigh.

Min, you know I have work tomorrow :(

His response came quickly.

take a day off. I’ll come pick you up

please?

You sighed again. You don’t know what came over you, but you blamed it on the selfie he sent.

fine. I’ll call in early tomorrow morning

you better be here early. I think I deserve some breakfast after you kept me up so late

You really didn’t expect him to agree, but then his reply appeared on your phone.

you got it baby ;) see you in the morning

han hyeongjun

You’ve only known Hyeongjun for a short time now, so when he proposed going out to dinner you were a little surprised.

“It doesn’t have to be like, a date or anything,” he specified, clearly flustered. “I would just like to get to know you more!”

So here you were, finding yourself and Hyeongjun in a new restaurant that had just recently opened up, and you had to admit that you took note of the fact that he was dressed a little nicer than normal almost immediately. Not that you were complaining! He looked great, and you’ve secretly been stealing glances at him all evening. However, you did find it odd that this “wasn’t a date,” but he looked ready for it to be one.

“So,” he spoke once you were both done with your meals. “Are you having a good time?” He seemed really nervous.

“Oh yeah!” You tried to sound as polite as possible to ease his nerves. What’s gotten over him? “Thank you so much for bringing me out tonight.”

“Of course,” he smiled brightly now. “Oh, and don’t worry about paying. I’ve got it all covered.”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! Really, I can pay for my meal.”

“No, no- I insist. It was my idea to bring you here, so the least I can do is pay for us.”

The alarm bells were sounding in your head. If he pays for your meal, that makes this a date, right? What’s going on?

Eventually, after a little more push and shove, Hyeongjun paid the bill and you both left. It was still pretty early in the evening, so you had both decided to go out for ice cream.

“Anywhere special that you want to go?” Hyeongjun looked down at you with a soft smile. You gave it some thought.

“There’s a good ice cream place down the street that I like a lot. You alright with going there?”

Mustering up all the courage he seemed to have left in him for the evening, Hyeongjun slipped his hand into yours. You felt a blush rise in your cheeks at the feeling, clearly surprised by his actions. However, you weren’t sure you wanted to pull away. He gave you a soft smile, blush taking over his own cheeks as well.

“Lead the way.”

lee jooyeon

You and Jooyeon had been “talking” on and off for months. Your schedules didn’t align often, but when they did you typically found your way back to one another. A simple text asking how the other one was doing would then slowly evolve into a cycle of catching up, flirting, and going on dates that blurred the line between being romantic and platonic. Then, he would get busy with work, and your own life would get in the way as well, and you would fizzle out of each other’s lives again. Currently, you were on a swing where he was slowly starting to make his way back out of your life again. With tour picking back up, Jooyeon had less and less free time. You tried not to be too bummed out about it, so you decided to go out with some of your friends.

You were out at a bar on a Friday night, and you couldn’t stop yourself from checking your phone every couple of minutes. Jooyeon hadn’t texted you in days, but you just had to be sure. Out of the corner of your eye, someone started to approach you.

“Hey, hot stuff.” The man who approached you was much taller than you, and it honestly intimidated you a bit. “Are you here alone tonight?”

You looked the man up and down. “No. I’m here with my friends. They’re all in the bathroom.”

“Oh, so do you want me to keep you some company until they come back?”

“No thank you.”

“Aw, why not?” He was trying to get close to you but you remained persistent while also trying to be as nice as possible.

“I’m not interested.”

“Oh yeah? You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Yup,” you lied. “And he’d be pretty angry if he saw you with me, so I advise that you leave.”

Not that your half-assed threat actually scared him, but the man walked away. As he disappeared into the bar, you felt your phone vibrate. It was Jooyeon.

hey! sorry I haven’t texted you in a while. my schedule has been crazy. how are you doing?

You typed up a quick reply.

I’m good! I’m out with some friends right now

some dude just hit on me lol

You could feel your heartbeat as you waited for Jooyeon to reply.

oh? did you give him your number?

no I didn’t

why not?

You froze as you read his text. Why not?

because he was weird and I didn’t want to?

Was he seriously that blind to what was happening between the two of you?

damn that sucks

maybe the next guy will be nicer lol

You genuinely couldn’t believe it.

yeah

hopefully lol

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh scenarios #ot6 #xdinary heroes angst

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epiclamer · 1 year

Note

HI. MIGHT I REQUEST SOMETHING I AM TOO LAZY TO WRITE MYSELF

Villain who is abused by their superiors and hero who finds out and brings them back to their place to are for them? 👀 i have seen the one you wrote with this trope (but switched) and i love it sm <33

Ahem- Thank you for your time, Have a great timezone!

I’m literally combusting.

Treaty

“You didn’t tell me…”

The villain huffed, pushing their hood back over their head as they leaned back. “What? Was I supposed to go singing it in the streets?”

Hero licked their lips nervously. This was a sensitive topic and Villains use of sarcasm only helped prove their insecurity.

“I asked you what happened last week and—”

“So. What.”

Villain snapped, eyes meeting their enemy’s as they spoke. “We’re villains, Hero. We aren’t kind. We aren’t caring and we’re far from anything even remotely close to a tight-knit family.”

They took a breath, calming their nerves to keep a level head. “I’m sorry, that you’re hurt because we don’t hug and kiss and laugh and mess around like you heroes do. But we have stricter rules here and you either live by them, or you die by them. That is it.”

The hero flinched, it was unexpected, but they couldn’t help themselves; Villains words cut deep like a blade.

It was, ultimately, true what they said. It was the way the system worked. Hero knew that, everyone knew that. But that didn’t mean that it was right.

“I don’t want you back out there.”

Villain stuttered to a stop, mouth opening with a witty remark or another painful truth, before they shut it again, waiting for clarification on the hero’s part. Not even the hero could believe what they were saying.

“I don’t want you going back to them. I don’t want you getting hurt again and I don’t…”

I don’t want to lose you.

It didn’t need to be said.

The criminal scoffed, it was meant to come off aloof, but they only sounded hurt. The pain in their voice was evident no matter how hard they tried to shake it off.

They turned to fiddling with the hem of their jacket to distract themselves, almost as if they were contemplating Hero’s offer of never heading home. “That’s rich coming from someone that likes to beat my ass on the weekly.”

Villain smirked, “Are my other ass kickings meddling with your schedule?” They blinked their puppy eyes at the hero. “I’ll make sure to change that right away, don’t you worry—”

“Why won’t you let me help you?”

All of the villain’s words seemed to catch in their throat, prompting what looked like a painful cough. “Excuse you—”

“You do this a lot. You avoid help. From me or anybody else, no matter the situation. Why?”

Once they had seemed to recollect themselves at the targeting question, they spoke. “Because I don’t need help. From you or anyone else, no matter the situation. That’s why.”

At first glance, the hero felt mocked, mocked for ever even trying to help. Mocked for having been so stupid. Of course, a villain wouldn’t want help. Why were they even trying?

Upon second thought, Hero realized that was exactly what Villain wanted them to think.

The crime-stopper took a step forwards, earning themselves a wary glare and a slight wince from the other. Villain didn’t actually expect them to hit them, right? “You do need help. Why won’t you accept it?”

The answer was on the tip of Villains tongue, Hero could practically see the tears brimming their eyes and the sobbing rant that was yet to escape them. Yet, the villain still held strong, barely showing any emotion as they confessed.

“Because I’m happy here, in my sick. Because I’m comfortable here, in my sick. Because I grew up in the sick and it’s the only thing I’ve ever known.”

Hero’s gut twisted, they could see the pain etched in their enemy’s every feature. They could see the will and the want to escape, but they wouldn’t.

Not because they couldn’t, but they simply wouldn’t.

“I don’t want it to get better.”

The hero broke before the villain did. A single tear sliding down their cheek as they imagined living a life where the best option was staying in a bad situation. Where the good was scarier than the bad.

“They abuse you.”

“I know.”

“They hurt you. They’re hurting you.”

“I know.”

Hero gasped, feeling an insurmountable weight on their chest now that they were getting desperate. They couldn’t send the villain back to their teammates.

They wouldn’t.

“You don’t care?”

Villain sighed deeply, rubbing the creases in their forehead caused from their constant stress. Their shoulders sagged in defeat as their demeanour turned somber.

“Tell me, Hero. When you grow up your whole life in a house that’s painted black and white, how do you know that there’s supposed to be colour in it?”

The one in question dropped their gaze, they knew where this was going. “You don’t.”

Villain nodded, humming in approval. “Correct. And when one day someone comes knocking on your door and you open it for the first time to reveal the colourful world outside, you would be scared, no?”

“I would feel betrayed.”

The criminal eyed them. “Correct. But where you falter, dearest Hero, is with whom you feel betrayal.” They smiled sadly, taking up a more casual stance. “You do not feel betrayed by the people in the house, but by the people outside who never saved you.”

Hero fidgeted withe their hands by their side, itching to just snatch the villain and free them from all harm. “That’s why you’re a villain.”

Villain shook their head, watching as the other took another step closer.

“That’s why no matter how much they put me through, I will always stick by them. They will always be closer than the people outside.”

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kenjakusbrainstem · 7 months

Text

Natural (Geto Suguru x Reader)

Contains: Armpit kink, scent kink, straight up making out with armpit, light somnophillia.

Hello <3 Day 14 of Kinktober: Armpits. I did consider doing orgasm denial but like, I write that on the regular and want to branch out so here's this. A friend (known armpit expert) explained to me that its kinda like a foot fetish, which made it very easy for me to understand. Thank you for that and also go fuck yourself for the plague of pit appreciation you've thrust upon me. Crossposted to Ao3 as the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comment or reblog if you enjoy or think Geto smells good. <3

You weren’t sure what roused you from sleep, but it must have been something outside. When you opened your eyes, it was still dark in your room, the light from the streetlights outside barely illuminating anything. Palming around behind you, your hand met hard flesh quickly. Relief filled you, as you thought for a moment Suguru had left while you slept.

Your boyfriend didn’t leave in the night often, only when he was needed at work. Unfortunately that could happen around the clock, as there were several times he’d either woke you by accident while leaving or left you to wake up to a cold bed and a note somewhere in the house. You were glad tonight wasn’t one of those nights. No reason in particular, you just would rather him be here with you.

Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you read the time. 3:36 am. Neither of you had alarms set today, so you could get all the sleep you needed, assuming he wasn’t summoned. You wanted to go back to sleep, still unsure why you woke up in the first place.

Rolling over to face Suguru, you watched him as he slept. He was on his back, the arm closest to you lifted up and bent to cover his eyes. You noticed the steady rise and fall of his chest, he was definitely still sleeping.

You pulled the blanket down, exposing his chest and side to you. The way his skin stretched over his rippling muscles made you want to reach out and touch him. His physique had always been attractive to you, but being able to see him up close without his knowing smirk looking down at you was a gift you didn’t often get. Suguru didn’t mind you making eyes at his body, he was your boyfriend after all, he was yours to ogle.

That didn’t mean it was something he didn’t tease you about. Suguru knew how attractive he was, he knew exactly what he did to you. So being able to lay here in the comfort of your shared bed and take in the view of his sleeping form was a gift you weren’t going to waste.

Reaching out you lightly traced your fingers down his chest, between his pecs and down to his bellybutton. He unsurprisingly didn’t react, being a heavy sleeper. You rested your hand against his abdomen for a moment, content with feeling the rise and fall of each breath he took. Slowly you drug your hand back up, the muscles beneath your hand hard while his skin was soft, a dichotomy you loved about him.

Your hand settled on the pec closest to you, squeezing it lightly. You’d joked to him before about him almost being an A cup with how built his chest was. The resulting lingerie he tried on had been enough to fry your brain and make you too aroused to articulate how you felt. No matter what you suggested, even if it was a joke he always found some way to turn it into a way to tease you.

It seemed your attention to his body hadn’t gone unnoticed, even if he was still asleep. The arm that had covered his face moved to pull you closer, pressing you up against his side before returning to its position on his face.

You didn’t mind the new closeness, your body pressing up against his was something you always enjoyed. However the way he blindly moved you had placed your face almost directly into his armpit. His natural scent surrounded you, comforting you and making you want to just bury your nose into his skin. You loved the way he smelled, from his cologne to his soaps, but your favorite was the way he smelled in bed. A pleasant mix of those and his natural scent.

You could feel your mouth water, as if you’d just entered a five star restaurant. You wanted to taste him, to feel every inch of him.

Taking his heavy sleeping into account, you pressed your face into his side, pressing soft kisses into the skin right below his armpit. It was soft against your lips, warm and welcoming. Suguru barely stirred at the sensation, you knew he was sensitive here.

Now that you were closer it was easier for you to wrap your arm around him. Settling your hand on his other side, you splayed out your fingers, feeling as much of his soft skin that you could. You resisted the urge to just run your hand up and down his body, knowing that would be more likely to wake him up.

Your kisses continued up, your nose brushing against his upper arm as your lips pressed into his armpit. His scent and soft skin now the only thing you could focus on, as if it had short circuited your train of thought. Perhaps it was your sleepy mind that allowed you to get so lost in his warm flesh.

After a few soft pecks to his armpit, your kisses became sloppy. Tongue reaching out to taste and lick his skin, what started as simple affection had turned into something much more lustful. He was beginning to stir, you could hear his breathing increase and become more shallow. You didn’t care though, you were too lost in how his soft skin felt against your tongue.

Biting lightly into the side of his armpit, you began to suck a mark into the flesh, one he’d notice in the morning and likely be confused about.

The arm above your head moved again, reaching down to wrap around your back, Suguru’s thumb digging into your shoulder. You whimpered against his flesh in discomfort but refused to detach your lips. Squeezing his body tighter, you lavished your tongue over the indents your teeth had left in his skin.

You could feel Suguru shiver at the wet kisses you were still giving his armpit. His other arm reached over and between the two of you, grabbing your chin and pulling you away from his arm.

Your lips weren’t lonely for long as he moved himself to face you, kissing you slowly. Suguru’s tongue twinning with yours, not shying away from the taste of himself on your tongue. The kiss wasn’t rushed, just one of comfort and love.

Suguru wrapped his arms around you as he pulled his lips away and placed a kiss on your forehead. He rested his chin on top of your head and hugged you tighter, pressing your face into his broad chest.

“More sleep,” Suguru’s deep voice grumbled sleepily from above your head. You didn’t mind, especially now since he was holding onto you so tightly. Burying your face as close to his muscular chest as you could, you closed your eyes and let the sound of his even breathing lul you back to sleep.

#jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #geto x reader #jjk #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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the-nysh · 5 months

Note

I love what amai did this chapter it kind of shows Amai Mask abandoning his idea of a pillar of justice and instead kind of adopting Saitama's view of heroes, where everyone who tries to be a hero is valid and trying to inspire new ones. It's such a great development of his character.

Something quite moving/miraculous/extraordinary happened here, for sure. :') Cause here's the same character, now doing a very humble, Saitama-like heroic gesture for a kid in his own unique, heartfelt, pay-it-forward kind of way:

The last time we saw him, Sweet Mask believed himself to be 'too late' (monsterized) past the point of no return before, that he requested Saitama to kill him right there in front of the crowd as the perfect opportunity to take up that 'ideal hero' mantle in his place...only for Saitama to save him (from getting stoned), appeal to his humanity (by telling him he's a 'really cool guy' for the lengths he went thru to genuinely save everyone), and assure him things are only getting started for him instead, cause despite everything, nothing's 'over.' Saitama helps him escape and encourages him that he can still go on to become that ideal hero he seeks, himself.

That was Saitama's last line to him before Sweet Mask's whereabouts were mysteriously left on a cliffhanger. But now?

It seems Sweet Mask really took Saitama's words to heart. :') Cause instead of embracing his fate (to die as a monster), permanently going into hiding, or ceasing his hero activities (what he wants to be! and always has been at his core) altogether, the very first thing we see of him is going out of his way to save a kid and his grandma by embodying that kid's personal ideal image of a hero (becoming his toy come to life) and inspiring him in turn to become the real deal someday too. Like. :')) From then to now!!!!!

The group of neos watching the scene claimed he was only mimicking to trick the kid, but no, SM's actions - choosing to anonymously help people during a literal crisis with no other personal gain to fame, read entirely genuine to me.

The same way he made the fateful decision to sacrifice his entire established identity to save the ungrateful crowd (who could only stone him back in return), because...if he personally sees himself a hero, as human at all (the way Saitama encouraged), then leaving everyone to die just to save his own skin/reputation back then would've been completely unacceptable. Despite everything, despite his monstrous true form and the disastrous personal risks to reveal it, he still chose the selfless path of a hero. Cause at his core, that was something he could not abandon. :'))

And now, after Saitama's help, it's hard to say (without further ch followup) how much his core - his ongoing struggle with monsterization/bloodlust, has safely stabilized, but it's clear in the interim he's found an ingenious way he can still use his powers to continue and actively become more of that 'ideal hero' of his dreams... As someone who chooses to help empower the weak (kids/elderly) with validation and encouragement, inspiring them with hope and reassurance, etc? Cause before, Sweet Mask was motivated by a sense of terminal urgency in his need to find/produce someone else to become that heroic pillar in his place, as his fastest solution to the problem, but without that looming threat (to his own mind and waning humanity alleviated) perhaps this - the services we see of him in the current ch, is more of what he's honestly always wanted to be all along...? (Again, it's hard to say for sure how much comes from his own reformed ideas or a mix inspired/adopted from Saitama's influence without more followup. Cause we never saw how they parted or what else Saitama may have said to help him get back on his feet, which even Genos notes.) But we've seen from ONE how it doesn't matter what's on the outside, or how others perceive/label/judge you, because if you genuinely want to be something (at the core, with your heart in the right place), and choose to take those necessary steps to become it, then you simply are that - a hero. (which Garou's story showed in a similar way.) And in this case, we see how Sweet Mask, a monsterized human struggling thru his own personal demons, can still fully be a hero at heart too. :')

Anyway tl;dr: Sweet Mask, aka Beauto, is one of the wc's best characters.

#opm #sweet mask #webcomic spoilers #anonymous #replies #i realized later this msg was a copy/paste from the reddit ch thread...but i still had many thoughts!#it's still unknown how much he's stabilized but the fact he's found a new way to continue as a hero is very heartwarming

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laiwalane · 5 days

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Hi love youe word sm, have you seen the movie Barbaran 2022? maybe you could write fic with Keith x reader? Something like he survives but events of the film still follows him in the nightmares and reader comforts him? please🙏

hiii anon👋 got ya

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ship: Keith Toshko x reader

warnings: slight mentions of death

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, canon divergence, post-canon

summary: do you need a summary?🙂

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Probably two months have passed since the events that happened in that damn house. Too few. Too little to forget. But it's too long to keep it in head. Keith tried to distract himself: first to concentrate on work, then to drown these memories in alcohol. He was far from drug addiction, but the pockets of his jeans were filled with half-empty packets of sedatives.

Of course, you were there, trying to help, but... how can some outsider feel something that he did not see? Even if you turn the level of imagination to the maximum, you will not be able to see, hear, feel on your skin what he felt. The way you see how eyeballs leak out and a hand is ripped out alive. Although it was dark, this picture where a hole had formed in place of the hand with blood flowing out and flowing out, bones and veins were visible, a real bloody broth. On the one hand, it was just a hand; he didn’t see the death scene, but that was enough.

Therapy is not enough, every time Keith was left alone with himself, every trip to the shower or banal thoughts before bed, before the sleeping pills stored on the bedside table made themselves felt, every such moment carried him back to that ill-fated day. He would like to erase his memory, even if completely, even if he loses himself as a person, it doesn’t matter. Just to forget. But even if this is possible, there is too much at stake.

Unfortunately, this is how the world works. And there is something in this world that should not be in it. Well, it doesn’t happen that some flabby old woman, mutated from living in the dark, lives in the basement, and from time to time drags people in with her. However, it happened and happened to him. Keith turned out to be the very person looking at whom you can say “thank God this didn’t happen to me.”

No matter how it sounds, now those terrible events are behind us.

You've been lying and looking at the ceiling for an hour now. Maybe just a couple of minutes. There is an endless stream of thoughts in your head. Sometimes they return to Keith.

You feel sorry for him. Of course you do. But you don't even know how to help. He often says that everything is fine, that he has almost forgotten, but this is not forgotten and you know it. Lately, he hardly left your side while you were at home or anywhere else. He tried not to be silent even for a minute, you tried to maintain any conversation. But it is difficult. You both understood. Someday he will forget, time heals. After all, you are both adults.

A pitiful groan brought you out of your thoughts. "Nightmares again." You thought. And gasped.

A second later he was already rushing around the bed, shouting something incoherent.

As softly as possible, you called his name. It didn't work. Of course not. You had to put in more effort. In fact, you have never had such an experience.

After a couple more unsuccessful attempts, his eyes finally opened and his body automatically rose. He was used to such dreams. Although it’s hard to imagine that you can get used to this. His consciousness slowly returned to reality. Hands were shaking and legs were tangled in the sheets. It seems his whole body was shaking now, covered in this unpleasant cold sweat.

And you were sitting next to him, you didn’t understand what to do, what kind of reaction should you expect? It felt like his fear went directly to you, filling the entire room. It might even seem that the glass on the windows was fogged up.

–How are you?–you asked stupidly, mentally hitting yourself in the face. Perhaps you expected him to say that everything is fine, to drink a glass of water as a last resort. But he just sat there. He sat and breathed heavily with his head down. Slowly he raised his hands and covered his face with them. And there was so much doom and despair in this gesture that your heart almost fell into your stomach.

You hugged him from behind, very carefully, but still tightly. This sad and silent scene lasted for an unknown amount of time, obviously very little. But in the silence a sob was heard.

“I’m tired,” he whispered quietly, but enough for you to hear.

Car horns were heard somewhere.

- I would be tired too. – You answered philosophically, without getting up from his back.

- No, you don’t understand. Nothing helps me, no matter how much I try. God, of course you won't understand. I just...I don't know what to do. – Who even knows.

You were silent. He, too, was silent for a minute, and then continued.

– I was just a normal person, but all this turned me into a fucking piece of useless shit. Do you think I don't see? I don’t see how you and other people who know look at me? Constant pity, even some kind of emptiness in their gaze. Some people even avoid me and sometimes it seems to me that you...–he fell silent abruptly.

And you, it seems, have finally seen everything. Moving to his side, you removed his hands from his face and turned his head towards you. You were greeted by a pair of swollen, slightly red eyes.

–Listen to me, Keith,– you said, cupping his face with your hands. – No matter how difficult it is, I will help. I'm not leaving for anything, do you hear me? That's the last thing you should worry about right now.

It is not clear what kind of reaction a person should have to this. Maybe in a different situation he would have smiled and said something in a “well then everything is fine” face, maybe. And now it led to another lump in the throat and a fit of sobbing. Now in your hands already. The T-shirt became wet, and his position seemed extremely uncomfortable. Between loud sobs, he tried to say something else, you couldn’t make out what it was.

-I love you, you know. – You gently ran your hand through his tousled hair, along his back, still not letting go. Or rather, Keith didn’t let you go.

After some time, he finally calmed down. Maintaining the same position, you lay down.

You were laying there and listened to his nervous breathing. Quiet sobs were heard from time to time. You were sorry. You only hoped that Keith would see that you cared, that you really loved him.

–Thank you.–He said quietly and briefly. You were silent.

–No, really, I don’t know where I would be now...

– Don’t think about it, it’s not a favor. – It seems he was smiling.

- Fine fine... –It seems he realized that it was pointless to continue.

In any case, what else can be done? All that remains is to count on the mercy of the power of time, which will erase the sharpness of memories, and they will cease to be the brightest thing in a person’s life. In any case, life is still ahead and as long as Keith has someone nearby, all this may worry him a little less.

You felt his hand on your waist, its grip gradually weakening. He fell asleep again, that's good. Anyway...should it get better?

Nevermind, you will help anyway.

#writers block #barbarian 2022 #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard x reader #keith toshko #x reader

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