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#i can't believe how long i spent writing this but HERE IT IS
maybankiara · 2 years
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i was gonna write a proper essay but why when i can just say this: the main difference between original fiction and fanfiction is that, in most cases, fanfiction is written as what would be considered a filler chapter/episode. readers are familiar with the characters and they want to go out of their way to read more about them, to find different perspectives, to build on the character interpretation they have in their heads. 
this means that when approaching to fanfiction, you’re not limited by what is necessary and instead, your role tends to be to build upon what is wanted. if you keep writing tender moments with little plot, it’s adored, because that’s what people want to see. they want their characters to have a little break from everything going on in the plot, and just live and feel. not every scene needs to progress something. it could be just a snapshot, or a sweet moment of peaceful quiet, and people would love it just the same. 
in original fiction, scenes get cut because they’re not moving the plot/character development forward, whereas these scenes tend to be the essence of fanfiction. they’re usually more emotional and less eventful, focusing on characters rather than the plot, on feelings rather than action. it allows the reader to breathe and enjoy the character dynamics without having to necessarily consume the same amount or intensity of the canon plot. 
essentially, the readership is different. fanfiction writers are working with an already established fanbase who know the characters, therefore the connection between reader and the character doesn’t need to be established as much as simply reaffirmed, or adjusted. you know these characters, and here’s how they fit in this scenario/universe. the reader fills in the gaps, they care about the characters more than the plot, because they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the characters. 
obviously, there is fanfiction written in the style of novels, but unlike original fiction, that is not a must. it’s a can. but fanfiction allows for the soft and the emotional and the “filler”, especially with the modern media approach of keeping the plot going with little to no filler episodes. it’s the freedom of approach that makes fanfiction a broader form in terms of creativity, narrative style, and general approach to plot. some forms work for fanfiction only and that is why it tends to be easy to spot a published author who used to write fanfiction. 
fanfiction, essentially, lets you do whatever you want -- as long as you’re good with the characters. you can bend the genre, subvert the expectations, try narrative styles that would have the publishing companies rolling their eyes at you, and with all that, there will be people thinking they’ve never read something better. 
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solaireverie · 7 days
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op81 | best he'll ever write
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summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later
faceclaim: gracie abrams
author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!
[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others
geotag: melbourne, australia
yourusername short break down under 🐨
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user great race at the australian gp y/n!
↪ user first points of the season let's goooo
↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌
logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺
↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤
↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂
user the puppy is so adorable 🥺
↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets
oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...
↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉
↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭
↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺
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oscarpiastri has added to their story
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seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others
you replied to oscarpiastri's story
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!
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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺
↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it
oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍
↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤
user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀
↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜
↪ user hello what 😳😳😳
↪ user oh my sweet summer child...
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liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others
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oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.
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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐
↪ yourusername 🤭
↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this
yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍
↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭
↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle
williamsracing signed copy when 😏
↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡
user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀
↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind
↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝
↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂
↪ logansargeant what???
↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality
↪ yourusername lando... 😒
user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?
↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3
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evasive-anon · 3 months
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
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Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
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Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
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Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
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Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
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Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want
off guard
hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3
after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.
"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.
the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.
it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.
lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.
"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.
he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.
the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.
"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."
you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.
it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.
his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.
you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.
endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.
"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"
"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"
his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"
"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."
"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.
"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."
aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.
"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.
"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."
"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."
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regulusrules · 9 months
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A very long meta explaining why the confession scene in Good Omens is the best that has ever been written and performed on screen
First of, the scene begins with two different realisations that makes each of them believe that their dynamic will significantly change (Crowley wanting to confess his love and Aziraphale wanting to break out the news about heaven). This, you can see, creates an unprecedented shift in their energy, makes them super excited (Azi) and super nervous (Crowley) to break the news to one another. And despite the two matters being drastically different, when Aziraphale begins his revelation we don't get the Miscommunication trope where Crowley listens to the offer and passively retreats back his emotions. No. He is steadfast in his resolution, in his love for Aziraphale.
And that right here is king attitude no.1, because even if Aziraphale just threw something so godforsaken on him, he won't allow himself to be cowardly or let go of the one person he loves more than eternity. Crowley still bares his heart, still lets it all out, because he will not lose Aziraphale in his naivete of still believing that Heaven is good and Hell is evil. (I write this with supreme detachment of my own beliefs lol) He tries to make Aziraphale understand that sides didn't do them any good the past 6000 years, that the only solid foundation they ever had was them, and that Crowley would rather have them than have everything.
The way you hear Tennant's voice breaking when he said “And we spent our whole existence pretending that we aren’t”, is the perfect reflection of how Crowley genuinely despairs the time they lost and wouldn't have any more of it. And even with how bare and raw he's feeling with revealing all this, he still goes on. He still tries to tell him and I would like to spend our whole existence together, but struggles and struggles because he's strung wide open. But he keeps trying.
Now you see here a moment of disbelief on Aziraphale's behalf, because he doesn't understand why Crowley would refuse going back to heaven with him when all Aziraphale remembers of Angel!Crowley was how utterly bright his eyes shone when he lit up the stars and surely Crowley must miss that too? He wants the same thing Crowley is saying, just in a different dimension. The “I can make a difference” immediately changes to “We can make a difference” because that's all what’s ever been for Aziraphale; them changing the small engines of the world according to their partnered will. He is genuinely benign and not ill-intentioned when he says “Nothing lasts forever”, because he truly wants a better life for them, a better existence. And that's when it gets better: Crowley has his walls back up, he's walking away, because he can't bear that he was never enough as he is for Aziraphale. That he was never worth reciprocation.
But Aziraphale doesn't let him leave.
And that is king attitude no.2, because he doesn't want Crowley to leave when things are strewn all over the place that they don't know where they stand. All Aziraphale ever wanted was for them to stand on the same ground. He asks him to come back to him but hides it by finishing it with “to heaven!” because the whole conversation is going too fast for him, and he's undergoing a religious crisis of sorts that does not end in 6000 years, yet even so he still doesn't want to lose Crowley because he's everything he has and he can't do it without him and “I — I need you!”
And that's when it gets reaaally interesting. Aziraphale's expression then turns from sorrowful desperation to rageful desperation, because he's baring his heart and Crowley is walking away from him. Their solid ground is completely shaken when he says “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” because he's trying to be subtle about his love for Crowley and still direct as much as he can, but Crowley responds with a condescending “I think I understand a whole lot better than you do” and if this isn't peak human beings in their arguments, I don't know what is. Because we all think we are so misunderstood every time we get into an argument with someone we love, and we absolutely despise it when we feel patronized, so it's no wonder Aziraphale bitterly says “Then there's nothing more to say”, because if Crowley understands, truly does, then he'd see right past his fear to how much he loves the ground Crowley walks over.
And on the other hand I don't believe Crowley truly meant to be patronizing, but in a desperate last attempt he wanted to make Aziraphale understand what he is trying to say, what he spent his entire eternity feeling for Aziraphale, what Aziraphale would be giving up if he goes to heaven. What their life sounds like with no nightingales.
“You idiot, we could've been.. us” is the very culmination of love confessions. It took every single emotion and equated it. Tennant's delivery of it was unsurpassed in the way that it truly covers everything. And the way he grabbed Aziraphale, not entirely lovingly but desperately and angrily and, honest to God, awfully, is the reason why their kiss is so perfect. No queerbaiting, no beating around bushes. It is raw and sad and giving and agonising. Crowley wants to say see what you're giving up? See what we can have? And all Aziraphale thinks is how could you lay this on me now after everything, after every chance we could've been something, after me loving you from the first time I've met you. He's angry towards himself too, because nothing he can offer Crowley will be good enough that he chooses him instead of his choices. Sheen's choice in making his character grab Crowley's shoulder and let it go and then grab it once more in desperation is so unexplainably perfect of how much Aziraphale wants to hold onto Crowley.
But in the back of his mind, Crowley isn't choosing the same. Instead, Crowley's choosing to run from something that no doubt will rebound in their faces. They are angels and demons of heaven and hell, how could Crowley expect they could run and hide without being a repercussion later on? At least what Aziraphale is suggesting ensures that they will have a high position of power, enough to make them together, enough to make them happy, but instead, Crowley is walking away.
And when Crowley lets go of him, not the other way around because of course it is Crowley who must let go and detach from the utter pain that pierced his heart, you can see his expression being one of defeated longing. He sees all expressions passing across Aziraphale, sees how torn apart the other man is, too, and awaits just a semblance of anything they could work with. But instead, Aziraphale's face closes, and he tells Crowley “I forgive you”, and Crowley thinks this must be his second falling, because he's never felt more pain. “Don’t bother”, he says, yet still waits for Aziraphale outside and doesn't leave until Aziraphale has left him. Because in the end, Crowley would always be there for Aziraphale, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it.
And that, my beloveds, is why eternity will remember this scene.
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emphistic · 8 days
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Can't Relate to Desperation
A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write
— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna
“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”
“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.
“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.
“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”
Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.
“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.
“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”
“Can you help me or not?”
“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.
“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.
All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.
And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).
The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.
It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.
You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?
You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.
“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.
Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.
You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.
When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.
Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.
Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.
What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.
Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.
Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”
“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.
Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.
“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.
This continued all day. And I mean all day.
Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.
Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.
He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.
Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.
It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?
Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.
But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].
When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.
“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.
“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.
“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.
Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.
“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.
“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.
And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.
The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.
But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
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wri0thesley · 1 year
Note
SO glad someone else is in the "Just the tip" hole, so here I am like a little kid, cupping my hands for any spare thoughts (preferrably anyone besides Sampo), if you have any to share? 🤲🖤
loni i was going to write a post anyway but being able to reply to asks with my thoughts - proof that there is Demand (tm!) makes me feel SO much better about the brainrot!!! i have many thoughts abt sampo too so i am eagerly awaiting ur drabble, just the tip is really a concept of all time!
ft: gepard, welt, himeko, serval, jing yuan, luocha cw: reader is afab with no pronouns used. public sex (luocha), straps, sex toys (himeko and serval), a little size kink (jing yuan), a little soft dom (welt). not sfw, minors dni.
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Gepard doesn't quite realise how big he is. He's not got all that much experience; he's never really thought about it, far too busy with all of the responsibilities that come hand in hand with being Captain of the Silvermane Guards. So when your eyes widen and your fingers can't quite meet when you wrap them around his length, he lets out a ragged breath and a moan and pushes his cock between your thighs. You have to breathlessly curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and whisper out his name. He's already on the edge just by being close to you. The silky softness of your thighs, the inviting shine of your lips and the way that arousal makes your eyes blow dark and wide - when you whisper softly into his ear; "I don't know if I can take it, Gepard . . . J-just the tip, alright? Go slow--", he worries that he's about to embarrass himself right there and then and come before he's even gotten inside of you.
You whine and whimper as he slowly pushes you open, your wetness smearing all over the ruddy head of his cock. Your fingers tighten in his hair even as a soft strangled noise falls from Gepard's own mouth and he struggles to not ram himself inside of you - you have no idea how good you feel. How hot and tight and wet and perfect the embrace of your walls clinging to him is, even on just the head of his cock.
But he did not get where he is by not having self-control. His muscular arms, corded with scars from practise battles and real battles alike, cage you in on the bed beneath him. He looks at you like someone who cannot believe how lucky he is.
"I'll wait here," he promises you, his voice lust-soaked and cracking with the effort. "As long as you need me to."
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Welt sees how your lip trembles, how you take in a slow, steadying breath, and he cannot help his desire to take care of you a little. To coddle you and fuss over you, to make the most of the age and experience that he has and you do not. So he smiles at you, crow's feet crinkling the edges of his eyes behind his glasses, and traces the pout of your bottom lip with his thumb. His voice is patient and soft when he speaks to you.
"I'll go slowly," he tells you, as he gently slaps his cock against your wet folds where you sit on his desk before him, animation sketches and research papers pushed to one side in favour of the tempting treat that is your body. He has spent so much of his time working - nobody could blame him for taking a break and finding himself again in the silky tightness of someone younger and prettier than he himself is. "Just the tip first."
"Alright, Mr Yang," you breathe to him, your hands locking about his neck, urging him forward. You sigh as the head nudges your clit, as his precome mingles with your own slick arousal. You're a sensitive mess already - Welt is certainly not the kind of man who'd leave a partner unsatisfied, and his fingers and his tongue have already learnt every petal-soft fold of you, every spot that makes you shiver and whimper until you'd had to bite into his shoulder to stop your cries waking up every other crew member of the Express.
Slowly, slowly, carefully, he eases into you. Watches with rapt attention every movement of your body; the stretch of your cunt as it accepts him, until your hips are wriggling and squirming and you're tugging on his shoulders.
"Mr Yang," you're saying to him, your lip trembling, your shoulders racked with gasps. A whine leaks into your tone as he rests the head of his cock inside of you, enjoying the feel of it. Your sex pulses around the modicum of his length inside of you, fluttering, waiting to be fully claimed. "It's -- it's not enough!"
Welt laughs softly and presses a kiss on the top of your head that is almost paternal in its comfort - a reminder that he's old enough to be your father, your grandfather--
His voice is soft with just a hint of admonishment in it.
"You're really going to have to learn some patience."
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Himeko has you wrapped around her little finger, but that doesn't mean that you don't eye the toy that she shows you with a little trepidation. She laughs at you when you do, pulling you into her, kissing you with the taste of coffee on her tongue as she talks you into her bed.
"If you're frightened of it," she's saying, even as your mouth is going dry as you watch her disrobe, "We'll go as slow as you need, darling. We'll start with just the tip."
You lose the ability to speak at the sight of her, auburn curls tumbling down her back and over the milky pale spill of her breasts and shoulders. Bathed in the starlight from her cabin window, she's unearthly, and your entire body sings out with desire for her. She smiles when she sees you looking.
"Always such a flatterer," she teases affectionately, as she wraps the toy carefully around the curve of her hips. It looks just as striking on her as everything else does. "Now, you just lie back. I've done this before. Let Himeko handle it, hmm?"
You're helpless to a command from the beautiful navigator, and you let yourself fall back on the pillows as she walks towards you with all of the elegance of somebody who knows exactly how lovely she is. She gives you a soft smile, her golden eyes gentle in the light, even as she gathers herself onto her knees and her fingers lightly dance over your bare skin. Electric pinpricks of desire radiate from every touch.
"Aren't you beautiful?" She muses to herself, as she wraps her hand around the toy and pumps it a few times - when it comes away, you see there's something thick and clear and viscous dripping from it. She laughs softly again when she sees you looking.
"You're already wet," she whispers to you, in a low, musical voice. "But if you're still nervous . . . well, there's nothing wrong with a little help, is there?"
Her fingers dance over your skin. She knows every part of you intimately by now; the spot on your stomach, the way you whimper when she pinches your nipples, the place on your hips that makes you breathe in a deep sigh and your own lashes flutter. Through her touches, she keeps murmuring soft platitudes to you - how pretty you look like this, for her. What a precious treasure you are. How she can't wait for you to come apart--
And by the time she is sliding the tip of the toy inside of you and you are fair dizzy with want, you can do nothing but whisper out her name. She leaves the tip of the toy inside of you, smiling down, as patient and beautiful and dazzling as ever.
"I told you," she murmurs, as her long fingers return to pluck and play with your nipples, and you get used to the new stretch of having something thicker than Himeko's fingers inside of you. "We'll go as slow as you need. Any new territory worth exploring is worth doing . . ." She leans down, her mouth full and soft and wet as it meets yours and you whine into it. "Thoroughly."
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Serval is a tease. You'd known she was up to something the moment you'd stepped into the workshop and she'd flipped the sign to 'closed' with a feline grin on her face as she'd beckoned you over to her and told you she could really use your help with some new gadget she was tinkering with.
So now, as she has you bent over her workbench with something vibrating pressed in the valley between the folds of your sex, the tip pressed just so - buzzing and tingling - against the swollen pearl of your clit, it's all you can do to keep your fingers tight around the edge of the workbench and your knees locked so you don't collapse.
"Kitten," Serval is purring, her hips slowly rocking back and forth, the phallic toy strapped to her hips rubbing through the wet mess of your cunt. "Don't you like it? I made it thinking of you!"
Your words come out garbled, a mess of moans and sighs. Your own hips thrust back when she pulls away, trying to get her to keep the toy pressed against your clit for long enough for you to get off. Instead, she just laughs, nipping at your bare shoulder.
"You're getting desperate," she teases you, her voice deep and throaty and satisfied. "Beg me, kitten, and we'll see what I can do for you."
"Serval--" Your voice comes out a whine. "Please . . ."
Her clever fingers, calloused palms, slide down your bare skin, leaving electric zaps wherever they touch you. You shudder under her practised touch - you are an instrument, and Serval has already proved she is a master musician.
"Seeing as you asked so nicely," she says to you, and you sense the wicked cat-like grin on her mouth. "How about I give you just the tip?"
"Not enough--"
"You're getting greedy!" The buzzing toy slides a scant inch inside of you without the smallest hint of resistance; you're wet enough from the teasing already. You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, and Serval sighs happily as she dips one of her fingers between your thighs to toy with your clit as the tip of the toy rests inside of you.
"You're lucky you're so cute," she whispers to you. Her finger slides back and forth over your clit, drawing delicate circles - she always knows how to use them. "Come for me on the tip, and I'll fuck you with the rest of it too."
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Jing Yuan's patience has long been mistaken for occasional laziness; but you know better than most that there is nothing of the kind, when it comes to him. And there is certainly nothing of the kind when it comes to trysts like this.
Oh, you and he have gotten used to rushing moments when you can, in between him being needed for meetings and work - but now? In the evening, loose ends tied up, with nothing but one another to spend the night on?
This is a tryst that will last.
Jing Yuan is not lazy - he merely likes to take his time. For a man whose being is tied up in his past warfare, he knows how to handle delicate things like you - but that doesn't mean he's going to rush it. Not when you look so pretty laid out like this for him, clothes rumpled and discarded beneath you, looking up at him with your eyes all soft and wanting and your mouth aching to be kissed.
He hums beneath his breath as he lets his mouth learn the shape of yours; pushes you gently back when you try and kiss deeply into him, to make him hurry up. His cock nudges against your inner thigh and he sighs a slow, indolent sigh of pleasure that makes your heart beat double time in your chest.
"We have all of the time in the world, little bird," he tells you, with an insouciant smile on his face. Your face scrunches, an adorable expression of impatience taking over your features, and he smiles down at you like someone looking at the finest treasure in the world.
"Impatient," he chides you, but there's nothing but warmth in his tone when it comes to you. His hands find your thighs, digging into the soft skin as he parts them. Warm eyes like pools of molten gold find your core, and he sighs as he looks at you. You squirm under his gaze, and as he softly leans down and lets some of his own saliva drip onto your cunt, you whimper at the feel. "This is impatient, too," He says to you, and laughs. "Drooling all over the place. Mm. Is that how much it wants me?"
"I want you," you respond to him, mouth petulant. Jing Yuan shakes his head fondly at you but readjusts himself, hand around his cock to guide it to your sex. He taps the thick head softly against your clit until you squirm, pouting. "Jing Yuan--"
"Ah, I know, I know," he looks down at where the two of you are not yet joined. "I'm always reminded how . . . small you are, when I look down at you like this."
"It will fit," you insist to him, and he raises one eyebrow.
"Oh, I know it will," he tells you, still smiling at you. "But it's a tight one, isn't it?"
"Jing Yuan, you're stalling--!"
He laughs again.
"Ha. My apologies, little bird." Slowly, he guides his cock to your opening - resting it against there, just for a moment. Exactly as he said, he seems so much bigger than you - his tip thick and blunt and rounded, your entrance small even as your hole pulses and oozes slick in preparation for him. "I simply like looking at you."
"There's something you'd like more than just looking," you encourage him, and he shakes his head so that his mane of hair falls over his shoulders.
"You're incorrigible," he tells you - and then he is pushing forth into you, and your mind goes white of anything but the feel of Jing Yuan inside of you, his cock, your cunt, where they meld together and you become one--
Wait.
Why has he stopped?
"Jing Yuan--!"
He swallows your cry of his name with a kiss that is anything but lazy, tongue exploring your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip until you're dizzy with it all. He tastes, just a little, like sweets.
He pulls back just enough to look at you half-lidded, the tip of his cock just stretching you out.
"I'm merely taking my time," he tells you. "Whilst I have it."
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Luocha is mean, you think, even as his words remain unfailingly genteel. Even as his face remains a polite mask, he leaves his cock not-quite inside of you as you tremble against the wall he has you bodily pressed up against.
"Please," you breathe out to him, teary-eyed, lip trembling. "Y-you can't just leave it there--"
He cocks one eyebrow, his face unfairly pretty - unfairly unruffled, even with the tip of his cock buried in you. He's unfailingly still - almost as if the hot tightness of your cunt pulsing around him has no effect on him whatsoever. One long, elegant hand curves around your cheek as a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.
He's big. You can't help but squirm against the concrete, your cunt wrapped around only the head of his cock but feeling like you've taken far, far more.
"We're in public," he says to you, voice just a little condescending. "If I were to go about this more . . . vigorously, surely you wouldn't want the attention of every person in the vicinity on you?"
Your own need feels like a thrum inside of you. It's hard to think, as Luocha moves his hips the barest fraction and you find yourself whining aloud. Firmly, he moves the hand on your cheek so that it's pressed over your mouth, muffling your noises.
"You can't take more than this," he tells you, voice calm and patient. "Not here. Not now."
You whimper into his gloved palm, tears beading in your eyes like little diamonds. Even that doesn't seem to move him, though he tips his head to one side, vaguely considering. He moves his hand just enough for you to take a breath, and whisper beseechingly;
"I-if not here . . . will you do it somewhere else?"
He laughs only one soft, musical little noise. He leans in close, his breath cool against your neck.
"Mm . . . but when you ask like that--"
You cry out as he pushes another inch of himself into you, eyes widening as the noise breaks the calm, cool air. Luocha pauses.
"Oh dear," he says. "I suppose we'll have to both come quickly then, hmm?"
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cyberm4n · 2 months
Note
May I request a bit of Lucifer with a plus sized reader who has a breeding kink? 💕
thank you so much for this request anon it has plagued my brain /pos as someone who's midsized and VERY gay i think the plus sized ladies need more love in fanfic. i hope you like it, im not 100% happy with the writing but lmk and ill change it up :)
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cw: smut, breeding kink (duh), mentions of daddy kink but it's not rly used, reader is described as plus sized could be midsized ig, cum eating?? it's not like DIRECTLY mentioned but it kinda happens??, reader is overstimulated cause lucifer wants to make her a mommy, not proofread well
other: im on vacation and working through some requests so please know your request has been noted! ill probably come out with some more alastor/reader/lucifer sometime in the next couple of days.
■ for starters, i firmly believe that he's the kind of guy to LOVE chubby girls
■ like he loves how soft you are
■ if you're laying in bed with him you better expect for him to be all over you
■ no matter what you wanna wear he thinks it hot. seeing you confident is his biggest turn on and he loves it when you are feeling your best.
■ put on some low rise jeans and that man is on his knees for you
■ safe to say this man is 100% your number 1 supporter and will hype you up no matter what
■ if you're taller than him, literally no issue. like have you seen the height difference between him and lilith?
■ look he's a guy who knows how to handle anyone of any shape/size/gender
■ he's been around since the beginning of humanity this guy knows how to fuck
■ we all know he's a munch
■ i feel like he'd be the kind of guy to be REALLY into thighs
■ like you'd be laying in bed and he'd start kissing down your body, his hands running over your curves
■ paying special attention to your lower belly before moving to your thighs
■ he likes going down on you but if you at all want to ride his face he's 100% in
■ i feel like if you hadn't asked he'd definitely have suggested it before
■ the kind of guy to like pull you down on his face
■ he wants you to SIT dammit
■ the breeding kink tho.
■ i feel like he'd already have a daddy kink but the breeding kink just adds to it yk
■ he thinks you look absolutely divine when his cum is leaking out of you
■ but on days he's particularly feeling the breeding kink, he 100% shoving his fingers in you after he pulls out.
■ gotta make sure you stay full
■ he can't help it he just loves you so much he wants to see you swollen with his child :(
"darling just one more for me please" he breathes out, sweat dripping down his body as he tries to coax another orgasm out of you.
he had been feeling in a bit of a mood tonight, and when you came into his office with those shorts of yours on he couldn't think about anything other than breeding you.
so here we are, laid out on his desk, and him hovering over you. your legs ache from trembling so hard, and every orgasm makes you practically blind from how long he'd been going at it. his cum leaks out of your hole, he'd been dumping load after load in you, and now he's shaking too.
he's gotta fill you up though, he'd love nothing more than you carrying his love. he feels that pit is his stomach tighten, and he gently rubs your clit. "gonna be such a good mommy," he'd coo, feeling you turn to putty in his arms.
when the time comes and he crashes over his orgasm, spilling deep in you once more, he's careful to stay locked in for a little while, but he's peppering your face with kisses.
"you did such a good job ducky" he murmurs, rubbing soft circles on your hips. until he'd pull back just a little to watch his cum leak out of you again, utterly spent.
when he finally completely pulls out its not long until his fingers make their way in you, "shh baby i know, but i gotta make sure it takes" he'd whisper to you as you squirm away from him.
he tsks a little shortly after, his fingers slowly withdrawing. he plunges thumb into your mouth, "suck" he says firmly, which you do, of course. cleaning off his fingers so good for him.
he pulls his hand back, it returns to your side, and you whine as you feel his fat tip press against your hole again, and he coos down at you, folding your legs up to your knees. "cmon missy, we can go one more time right? you can go again sweetheart" he says as he eases his cock into you again.
safe to say, he's dumping loads of his cum in you until he's shooting blanks.
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
Text
He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known
Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika
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He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 
He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.
Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 
He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 
It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 
And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.
“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 
“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 
“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.
And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 
Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 
The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 
And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.
After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.
“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”
The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 
He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 
He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 
He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.
But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.
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Part 2: Should've Known
611 notes · View notes
hisunshiine · 10 months
Text
—college nights, diner fights | jjk
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pairing: waiter!jungkook x waitress!reader au/genre: diner au, e2l, angst, smut, fluff rating: M wc: 9,664 warnings: POV switches (obvious, tho) mentions of domestic abuse and alluded infidelity (parents not pairing), JK's mom has terrible boyfriends and his dad is a petty "Disney" dad, Reader's parents are better but not around often, mentions of Jungkook having to protect his mom from the bad boyfriends, mean teachers, enemiesssssss, triggering middle school memories can be brought up upon reading the banter of middle school JK and reader LOL but also not LOL, swearing, vulgar statements, forced proximity, secret mutual pining, a drunken physical altercation/assault at work (mild), mentions of blood, minor cuts/scrapes, kissing, tattoo tracing SMUT warnings: oral (f receiving), praise an: shoutout to my beta readers @colormepurplex2 @downbad4yoongi @mrsparkjimin18 @peachiilovesot7 for helping me get this thing done in time despite me being on vacation and dragging my feet! thank you all so much for the motivation, for brainstorming, and just all around positive feedback! summary: If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! You and Jungkook have been enemies for as long as you can remember—elementary school even—and when Seokjin hires him despite knowing this, you have to call a truce during working hours. When an incident at work leads Jungkook, and you, to put things into a different perspective, will the heated diner fights become a passionate college night? Or will it fizzle before it can start?
Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by ME of @bangtanwritershq
My Big 3 are: Sun (Member): Gemini- Jungkook, Moon (How They Met): Scorpio- Late Night Diner, Rising (Trope): Libra- Enemies to Lovers
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Part 1: Elementary School
Elementary school is supposed to be fun. For you, 11 years old and in the fifth grade, elementary school is perhaps the best time of your life so far. Your dad signed up for career day, and you are excited beyond measure for him to come in and meet with your class to talk about his job.
It’s rare that you get to spend time with your dad, as his job keeps him pretty busy. The fact that he was able to show up today was a miracle in and of itself, but he negotiated presenting first so that he could leave first to get to work. 
“Everyone, please welcome our first parent speaker, Mr. Cha.”
Your classmates applaud as your dad steps forward to the podium in the front center of the classroom and you beam from ear to ear. He looks all spiffy—hair styled well, suit pressed, and shoes shined. 
“Good morning, boys and girls, I am Mr. Cha, and I am here to speak to you about my career. To be honest, I have two jobs,” he pauses as the kids, including you, look at him in both awe and confusion, “I am the father to that little girl right there,” he points to you and you giggle. “That is a full time job all on its own, but for the other time spent working, I am a plastic surgeon.”
You can’t help the pride you feel from your classmates clapping as your dad shares. He talks about the schooling needed to get to his position, shares study tips for the transition to middle and high school, which—while still some time away—will be good to begin practicing even now. 
“You’re so handsome, Mr. Cha! Have you ever had any work done yourself?” one of the students asks during the question time.
“Ah, great question! I have tried some of the treatments that we offer at my clinic, because if I don’t believe in it, why should others have faith in me and the services I offer?” he explains. “I had a colleague of mine fix my deviated nose bridge, which I injured playing basketball in college, and I maintain my skin with various anti-aging treatments as well. It’s important to start taking care of your skin even at this age! Princess, come help me please.” Your dad gestures to you, and you rise from the chair, only a little embarrassed at him using your nickname. “Help me pass these out to your classmates.”
You begin walking around the room, placing the small cardstock printouts on each of your classmates’ desks as your dad continues speaking.
“These are coupons for my office. You can give these to a family member, or if your parents will allow you to come in, we offer a free consultation to check your skin, and a reduced rate for any skin care products or procedures for any of my princess’s classmates and their family.” He wraps up his presentation there, pulling you into him for a side hug as he smiles at your classmates and the other parents waiting in the wings to present. “Thank you for letting me present, I’ve got to run because I have a rhinoplasty scheduled today, and I need to prepare, but I had a lot of fun talking with you all today!” As your dad kisses your forehead, he whispers a quick goodbye as he leaves your classroom. You’ve never felt so proud.
🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
“Okay, everyone, let’s line up for P.E.,” Ms. Kim directs, and you jump in line with your peers to walk down to the field. Your classroom teacher disappears for his break as Ms. Kim takes over, and thus ensues a battle between your class as you play ‘Capture the Flag’. 
“The rules are simple,” Ms. Kim explains, “a ball is placed on each side of the field in that box.” She points at the four cones creating a safe zone with a kickball inside of it. “Once the game begins, players have to cross the midline into ‘enemy’ territory to try and capture the ball and bring it back to their side. The other team has to stop you from stealing the ball by pulling the flags to remove your waistband—no tackling! Understand?”
“Yes, Ms. Kim!” 
“Good. If your belt is pulled off, you stand off to the side at the cone here, okay? That’s the jail. To rescue your teammates from jail, you have to high five them. You must return to your side before attempting to go after the ball again. Once a player enters the box, they are safe, but they cannot stay in there forever…” 
You tune out Ms. Kim because you already know how to play, and instead busy yourself with wrapping the tan belt around your waist, adjusting the position of the three blue flags hanging from it. The red team moves to their side of the midline, and you stretch your legs idly as you wait for the teacher to blow her whistle. 
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Huffing, you pout as you walk to the jail cone, re-attaching the waistband that your classmate pulled off. He’s put you in jail several times now, almost as if he’s targeting only you during the game. It’s getting a little irritating, since Jeon Jungkook is the fastest boy in the fifth grade, but he’s spending all of his time chasing you instead of helping his team win. Even now, he’s guarding the jail so your best friend can’t come to save you again.
“Dang, JK, you pulled her flag again?” Kim Taehyung snickers loudly as he jogs over to where you’re held captive.
“Can’t let the princess get everything, now can we?” he taunts, a sarcastic tone to his words.
Kim Taehyung, unable to whisper to save his life, leans into Jungkook and asks, “Do you think her dad worked on her face? No way she’s that pretty on her own.”
Your feelings are split between irritated and pleased at the backhanded compliment. 
“She’s not that pretty, it looks more like her dad messed up her face, ‘cause she’s so ugly,” Jungkook counters, and it’s hard to decipher if his cheeks are red from playing or from talking about your looks.
“But, you said last week that she was—”
Ms. Kim’s whistle blows to end the game, and you miss the end of Taehyung’s statement. Walking away from the two fools, you barely get a foot outside of the jail zone when a sharp tug at your waist stops you in your tracks. You look down and see your belt missing, and hear a soft thud a few moments later as it hits the grass in the opposite direction several yards away.
Taehyung is laughing, his large boxy grin behind his hand as Jungkook smirks at you. 
“You lost.”
The two then take off towards where your teacher is collecting the game belts, leaving you to backtrack to get yours.
“What took you so long? Everyone else has already returned to the building. Taking your time  to head back to class is not good sportsmanship.”
“But, Jungkook—”
“No excuses. Hurry up and get inside.”
Jogging back to the building, you get another scolding when you reach the classroom, with your teacher telling you that just because your dad is a surgeon and came for Career Day does not mean you get to behave this way. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Jungkook eats up every second of the scolding, seeming to enjoy the way you wilt as it continues. As you walk back to your seat, you don’t see Jungkook stick out his foot, and you trip loudly as the desks and chairs nearest you clatter and clang as you try to regain your footing.
As the boys snicker at your forced clumsiness, you vow to yourself that Jeon Jungkook is the worst person to exist, and you will hate him for as long as you live. 
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Part 2: Middle School
Jungkook’s had a hard week. Chuseok just ended, and he had to spend it with his dad’s family instead of with his mom this year, per their divorce agreement. He’s partially thankful because it allowed him a moment to rest. His hypervigilance with his mom’s new boyfriend is tiring, and his grades are suffering for it. But Jungkook is tired of these men sniffing around for a piece of the ‘supposed’ alimony his mom receives from his dad, because everyone was aware when the CEO of Jeon Industries divorced his wife and married his secretary. Jungkook begged to switch schools, but his parents refused, despite it being reported on several news outlets for a month in sixth grade. 
Eighth grade hasn’t been so bad for him though, no one talks about the divorce anymore, and Jungkook is able to be just Jungkook, known for his athletic abilities and gaming. He was able to guilt his dad into a new gaming computer, since he forgot to take him back to school shopping, and Jungkook is able to help his mom pay the bills each month with the earnings he makes betting on Overwatch. 
So when he returns back home, tired of hearing tales and seeing pictures of the trip to Cancun with the new baby that conveniently interrupted the planned shopping trip, to see his bed holding a Nike box with the shoes Jungkook begged his mom to get at the start of the year, he’s elated. He erupts into shouts and whoops of excitement, running to the kitchen to hug his mom.
“Ouch!” she can’t hide the wince as Jungkook pulls back from the embrace.
“I didn’t even squeeze you that tightly, Mom. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing, you know how clumsy I am, I ran into the dining room table the other night—”
Jungkook doesn’t even think as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, barely lifting it to see an ugly burgundy bruise spreading across her abdomen.
“Mom! Did he do this to you?” Jungkook demands, fury building in his body. 
“N-no, honey, you know how I c-can be,” she stutters through the lie, but they both know the truth. 
“Mom, if he did this because of money, just return the shoes, it’s fine.”
“No. I bought those for you. You deserve them.” His mom is resolute, turning away and adjusting her shirt as she goes back to cooking dinner. “Plus, we broke up. He won’t be back.”
Up in his room, Jungkook readies the shoes for school tomorrow. He has a few nice things, his dad is a CEO after all, but after the divorce, Jungkook chose his mom, and his dad took it personally. His dad didn’t understand, but the choice was clear to Jungkook. His dad had a new wife, but his mom had no one. Jungkook couldn't leave her too. But his dad became spiteful after that, and so Jungkook can’t take most things his dad buys him to his mom’s house, including certain clothes and shoes. 
It’s why he’s so upset about his dad missing back-to-school shopping, because those were usually the only things he was allowed to take to his mom’s, but this year he has nothing new. Not until his mom bought him the Nike Dunks he’s been coveting. Jungkook is happy, proud of his mom for choosing him over the newest boyfriend, and lying in bed, he finally feels like maybe his life isn’t so bad. He hears a knock at the door, and his mom’s tired feet shuffling to answer it.
“Please, Jongyeon-ah, I promise, it won’t happen again.” 
Jungkook rolls over, grabbing his headphones to drown out the sounds of the pleading, good for nothing, weaseling himself back into his mom’s life.
🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
 “Yo, Jungkook, those dunks are fly!”
Jungkook props his shoes up on the desk next to his in class, showing off the brand-new kicks to Taehyung.
“Yeah, they're limited edition.” Jungkook knows his response is a little douchebag-esque, but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted these shoes for the longest time, and after all of the bullshit he dealt with during Chuseok and now waking up to see that greasy slimeball his mom said she was done with shirtless at the table for breakfast, he just wants to pretend for once that his life is perfect. 
“Take your crusty shoes off my desk,” you scoff. Jungkook ignores you for a few seconds, leaving his feet where he has them propped on your desk. He hates that you called his shoes crusty, knowing that they’re not. They don’t even have a speck of dirt on them! He made sure of that upon his arrival, being overly cautious with each step and wiping away any blemish he perceived to be there.
“Awe, is the princess jealous she doesn’t have the limited edition dunks?” Jungkook can’t pinpoint when this rivalry started, he just knows that for as long as he can remember, the two of you have been enemies. 
“There’s a reason the supply is limited. It’s because they’re ugly and they stopped making them once they realized someone would have to be an idiot to wear them. You sitting here with them just proves this point.” You push his crossed feet off your desk and he lets you, but Jungkook holds you in his glare.
“One day you’ll stop being a hater, drowning in all that Haterade you’ve been drinking,” Jungkook makes a play on words, and his friends ‘ooooh’ and high five at his middle school burn.
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At lunch, Jungkook precariously steps between the seats to avoid damaging his shoes. His shins are starting to hurt from how he’s walking to avoid creasing his sneakers, but it’s worth the pain to him. He’s successfully avoided getting any food on his shoes from the sloppy eaters, and as he makes the last stretch to the door, a loud yell catches him off guard.
“Watch it!”
Nayeon, one of your lackeys, warns everyone as she’s bumped by you and her red sports drink goes flying. Jungkook is stuck between tables, backpacks cluttering the aisle and Nayeon’s body flailing taking up all of the space. It all happens in seconds—a hip check, a flying drink, and the contents now strewn across the floor and Jungkook’s new sneakers and laces now stained a bright red, dripping across the leather and fabric of his brand new, limited edition Nike Dunks. 
“Oh my god, Nayeon, you are so clumsy!”
Jungkook gawps at you, unbelieving, as your annoying voice fills the silence that took over the room only moments before.
“So sorry, Jungkook. Nayeon bumped into me and then she spilled her haterade—I mean Gatorade—all over your new shoes! I hope those weren’t hard to get or anything! I’m sure your CEO daddy can get you a new pair.”
Jungkook storms from the room, seething at your audacity. If you had any idea about his life, would you treat him this way? He wishes you could walk a day in his shoes, maybe you would realize that life outside your perfect, princess bubble is not always sweet, and would think twice before being a bitch to him, but it’s too late for him to change his view of you. You are the devil’s spawn and Jungkook has never hated someone as much as he hates you.
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Part 3: High School
Getting into BTS-U should be easy for you, what with your dad being an alumnus, but you don’t want to rely on nepotism. You’ve been working your ass off for good grades all four years of high school, and the final determination of your competency is about to start. Only one student can represent your high school as the Youth of the Year, winning prestige and honor by being granted early admission into any four-year university in the country of their choice without needing CSAT scores. 
The last of the trials, the oral interview, is scheduled for today and as you sit outside the room in the creaky, overly hard chair, your heart pounds. Of course, the final two students competing for this merit would be the two students who despise each other the most in the school, making the competition that much more important to you. 
You cannot lose to fucking Jeon Jungkook.
“We’re ready for you!”
The chipper voice startles you from your thoughts as you steel yourself to go into the final challenge. 
🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
“Thank you all for your participation in the Youth of the Year program. As you know, the contenders were all very high achieving and will have plenty of options available to you for your future. Do not let not being named deter you from the future awaiting you all. Now, today, we interviewed the two finalists from this wonderful school, and while both were outstanding, one student really opened up and shared a vulnerable side to him that inspired us. He has already begun an incredible journey in his young life, showcasing a will to succeed. Jeon Jungkook, please stand.”
The crowd in the auditorium bursts into applause as you burst into tears. The one good thing about this ceremony is that the finalists do not sit on stage, so in the chaos and celebration, you are able to sneak away to the bathroom. Jeon Jungkook looked so shocked to have been chosen, but you knew that he couldn’t actually be shocked. His mom stood up with him, hugging him with pride, and your parents couldn’t even be bothered to show up for such an important moment. 
You tell yourself it’s not a big deal, that you have done well and will most likely have the same options for college as Jungkook does, but being a Youth of the Year finalist is not the same as being the Youth of the Year. What really hurts you the most is that if the roles were switched, Jungkook’s mom would be there to hug him and tell him he did great and fought hard. If you had been chosen, you still would’ve been alone, but at least the loneliness wouldn’t have hurt as much. 
The judges who interviewed you must think you don’t need the help, that you have everything you could ever want, so why would they choose the spoiled little rich girl? Why would they choose the girl who eats dinner with the maids, who read bedtime stories to herself growing up, the girl who has everything—everything except a family that loves her more than their careers and supports her unfailingly?
Facing the mirror, you reach for your purse and pull out the small makeup pouch so that you can erase any evidence of the sadness you feel today, brimming with the unshed tears of yesterday, and prepare your battle face to go back out there and be cordial as the runner up. Another battle you’ll face alone. 
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Part 4: College at BTS-U
“Welcome to Jin’s Diner, have a seat wherever you’d—what the fuck are you doing here?”
The chiming of the door opening caught your ear, so you’d turned to greet the newest customer, except instead of an overly tired trucker or a group of post-clubbing college students, you’re faced with one Jeon Jungkook.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asks, eyebrow pitched and smirk full of snark.
“No, I kiss your father with this mouth. Now get out.” You go back to wiping down the counters, ignoring the stare of your arch-nemesis as you finish cleaning.
“Now, now, Baby Cakes, let your new coworker into the diner so you can finally get the help you've been asking for.”
You turn to the owner’s son, Kim Seokjin, mouth gaping open in confusion. “Coworker? I thought you read through the notes I made on all of the applicants?”
“Yes, I did, and they were very helpful. He’ll be working nights with you, so show him to the back while I grab a lock for his locker and a uniform.”
“Sir—”
“Now, Cakes.”
Seokjin disappears into the hallway towards his office, and you turn back to Jungkook, who’s standing smugly with his arms crossed watching you.
“Ugh, keep up, small fry.” 
Jungkook’s black boots squeak along the freshly mopped floor as he hustles to catch up with you. The doorway behind the counter opens into the kitchen, where the two line cooks, Hoseok and Yoongi, work diligently. Hoseok is sitting next to the recently delivered products with a clipboard in hand as he counts the items, while Yoongi is wiping down his area before the rush begins. You clear your throat loudly to gather their attention.
“We have a new waiter, his name is Jeon Jungkook, but he shall go by Small Fry, I think.” The smile on your face is devilish, and the two men snicker as they take in the newbie rushing in behind you.
“Wait, why am I ‘Small Fry’?” he asks, only a little out of breath from having to round the counter and catch up to you.
“Because everyone who works here gets called a food nickname, helps with the creeps, especially on nights.”
“I’m Suga,” Yoongi greets, “and this here is Hobi-Honey, but we just call him Hobi for short.”
“And I’m Baby Cakes, as you heard bossman say.”
“What’s your real name again, Small Fry?” Yoongi asks, his platinum hair shining in the fluorescent kitchen lights.
“It’s Jungkook,” he answers, emphasizing his name as he glares at you.
“Hmm, Baby Cakes, I think he might be better suited to Cooky…”
“Isn’t that too close to his name?” you argue, hoping to keep Small Fry, but when you see Hobi shake his head, you know you’ve lost.
“Fine, Cooky it is then! Next new hire will be called Small Fry no matter what!” you concede, waving Jungkook to follow you towards the back of the kitchen.
He trails you quietly as you push a swinging wooden door with a circular window in it and lead him into the employee lounge. Seokjin is whistling to himself as you enter, twirling a metal lock around his finger. You look around the room, surprised at how quickly he had everything ready.
“Great, you met Suga and Hobi then?” he asks, nodding at the door you just entered.
“Yes, I figured it would be best to do that first on the way here.”
“So, Jungkook—”
“He’s Cooky,” you interrupt, but Seokjin just shakes your rudeness off.
“—Cooky, this here’s the lounge. The door you just entered is used while you’re on shift for breaks and such. When you arrive for your shift and leave for the night, it should always be through the door behind me.” He gestures to a purple-handled door. “To the left are the employee cubbies, and to the right, we have the laundry station, small kitchenette, and door to the staff bathroom.” 
You nod at the TV mounted on the wall next to the swinging door. “The remote always stays on this table,” you tap the main table in the room that seats six, “and we typically keep the TV on ESPN, MTV, or my personal favorite, HGTV.”
“Thank you, Cakes. Now, your Jin’s Diner gear stays here, we’ll wash it for you after each shift you work.” Seokjin points to a stacked washer and dryer in the corner. “Just throw it in the wash after your shift each night. We’ll put it back in your cubby for you once dry.”
Jungkook nods, but he looks a bit overwhelmed from all of the information. You take the lead and sit down first hoping he’ll follow you. You know Seokjin talks fast and moves through the employee information even faster, and despite not liking Jeon Jungkook, you need the help on your shift since Mochi quit to focus on his last semester.
You grab a permanent marker and white label from the center of the table, tossing it across to Jungkook with a little more force than necessary.
“We each have a cubby, with a small locker inside. Use this to write your name and then claim an empty spot, and you can also write your name on the tags of your uniform.”
Seokjin grabs plastic-wrapped clothing articles from the cabinet next to the laundry station and approaches the table, too, tossing down the new clothing. 
“Your gear. Shirt, apron, and a ballcap. If you want a visor instead, let me know. Black, khaki, or blue jeans, black non-slip shoes, keep the blingy jewelry at home.”
“Dammit, I was planning to choke him with his chain after the first shift.”
Seokjin levels his gaze at you, and you know you’re pushing your limits with him. 
“I’ll have you follow Baby Cakes around to learn the drill for taking orders, but mostly you’ll be bussing tables tonight. I’ll work on the final processing of your paperwork in the meantime. Cakes, come with me while he changes.”
You follow Seokjin out of the lounge and back towards the office. He opens the door and steps back to allow you to enter first, shutting the door behind him as he follows you into the room.
“You need to tone it down. I know you said that you and he have some bad blood, but we need the help and he’s the best applicant we have.”
“It’s deeper than that, Jinnie, he’s literally been tormenting me since elementary school. We work with heavy-duty machinery and cutlery. You might come in one morning to find that one of us has stabbed the other to death.” You push out your bottom lip and give him your best, roundest, watery puppy eyes. “Is that what you really want?”
“What I want is to have a fully staffed evening shift so that my best girl can stop having bags under her eyes and complaining about her feet hurting every shift.” Seokjin smiles teasingly at you. “Plus, you need a good annual review to get a raise, and training new employees looks good to the owner.”
“Your dad is the owner! You can just tell him to give me a raise!”
“I could…but this is so much more fun. Who knows, he’s kinda hot…maybe you find out that the reason he’s picked on you your whole life is because he has a crush on you.”
“That fallacy is just a way for the patriarchy to continue to push abuse acceptance and the ‘boys will be boys’ agenda.” You cross your arms, but overall you know Seokjin is right. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to adapt well to situations, put a fake smile on when you need to deal with rude customers or your parents missing another monumental event in your life. “But fine. At work, it’ll be a ceasefire. That’s about all I can promise you.”
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“I thought you said there would be a ceasefire!” Seokjin yells at you from where you sit in his office. Jungkook is seated next to you, slouching in the chair with his head turned away towards the wall. You can see his jaw clenching every few seconds as Seokjin continues berating you. “Instead, I got a call from a family friend that you two were so busy yelling at each other for not doing your jobs that you effectively stopped doing your job!” 
You huff as you roll your eyes, turning away from Jungkook’s severely hot—no—aggravating jawline, (where did that thought even come from?) to respond to Seokjin.
“That’s not even what happened last night! This idiot decided to fuck with the seating and of course, since the big game is tomorrow, we had a lot of people stop in and it was noisy. I was trying to seat the guests who were being louder and rowdier on one side so that our regulars,” you glare at Jungkook, who’s still refusing to look at either you or Seokjin, “could dine in peace, but when I ran to the back to restock the napkins for the bar top, he seated people himself. He’s not the host. He’s still a newbie! It’s been, what? Three, four months?”
“...Four,” Jungkook mumbles, but you ignore it.
“And so then poor Mrs. Hana ended up dealing with the hooligans who disrupted her meal, and yes, it was when I was trying to explain to him how seating works—”
“I know how seating works, it’s not rocket science!”
“So then why would you mess with the flow of the diner and seat them there?!”
“Because you,” Jungkook finally breaks the stoic act and turns to face you abruptly, so much so you almost visibly jump, “kept seating the large groups in your sections, which meant that you were giving yourself the better tips and leaving me with the geriatrics who barely leave anything!”
“Are you serious? You think I was trying to take tips from you? I hate dealing with the sports crowd! I would have gladly traded with you if you had said something to me, but you were too busy ignoring me when I was trying to talk to you about dividing up the floor—”
“—you talk to me like I’m a child, so of course I was ignoring you, you dolt—”
“—really piss me off, you think I would stoop so low, probably because it’s what you would do—”
“Shut up, both of you!” Seokjin’s eyes have a hardness to them you are not used to seeing. He’s usually laid back, but the stress lines on his face speak to an underlying tension you aren’t aware of. “Look,” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his eyes briefly, “this can’t happen again. Mrs. Hana could’ve broken her hip slipping on the spilled soda, and her son is debating suing us. My dad is obviously handling this situation, but that means your jobs are on the table. If her son demands it in exchange to avoid a lawsuit, I can’t stop it.”
It settles on you at that moment, how severe this is. You know that the little, old lady regular slipped and fell, but both you and Jungkook rushed over to help her up, comping her meal and walking her outside to sit quietly and assess how she was feeling while waiting for her son to arrive. Not only that, but he didn’t seem mad when he picked her up—just worried about if she was in pain and if she needed to go see a doctor. Apparently, after the shock wore off, his anger set in.
“I’m sorry, Seokjin. It won’t happen again.”
“Get to your shift, I’m sure Nam—I mean Porkchop—is ready to go. Remember, Suga will be late today, the championship game is tonight. So no more ignoring the hooligans and Cooky,” Seokjin gives his leveled glare to Jungkook this time, “Baby Cakes is in charge. I know you’re eager to prove yourself, and you’ve done well so far, but she’s worked the aftermath of championship games before.”
Jungkook stares back at Seokjin, a low humming tension filling the room before he answers with a “Yes, sir.” 
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The diner is louder than Jungkook’s ever heard before as he goes around clearing tables now that the game is over. His coworker, Yoongi, did amazing from what he saw on the screen. BTS-U wore their white home jerseys with purple and black lettering, so it was easy to see when number 3 hit the game-winning three-pointer. 
Now, as the same white jersey is stepping into the diner, all of the fans cheer and bang their cups and silverware to congratulate the MBC Cup National University Basketball Championship’s MVP for the win tonight. 
Jungkook looks across the dining area, where he sees you kneeling on the countertop clapping your hands above your head. The uniform dress that you chose for tonight has risen higher up your thigh than normal—probably from the way you climbed up onto the counter—giving Jungkook a pretty good view of the skin leading up to what he’s sure are lace panties. He’s walked in on you changing one too many times to not know your preference. 
He can’t look away from you; something about the sheer energy radiating off of you is magnetic, as if you’re lit from within, and before he knows it, he’s moving closer to you. Jungkook knows he can’t stand you personally, but physically? He’ll never admit this aloud—not since Taehyung almost told you the truth back in elementary school— but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 
He doesn’t have much time to ponder your looks as you bring two fingers to your lips and let out a loud wolf whistle, setting you off balance with the action. Luckily he’s already been pulled into your orbit, because he catches you with two strong hands on your waist before you can fall off the counter.
“Thanks, Cooky!” you say, eyes alight and voice pleasant, as if you’ve forgotten who Jungkook is to you, and who you are to him. 
“No problem, Baby Cakes.” Jungkook helps you climb down, and when you bend forward to place your palms on the counter to dismount, he sees his hypothesis on your panties is right. His eyes remain on your ass as you extend a leg to the floor, and despite the trouble the two of you got into before your shift, Jungkook can’t seem to care to remember why he shouldn’t be enjoying the view.
“Congrats, Suga!” Jungkook watches as you launch yourself into Yoongi’s arms, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.
“Thanks, Cakes, that last shot was for you.” He winks, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so affected, but he wants to blame it on those panties you unknowingly flashed for the irritation he feels toward his friend for flirting with you. She’s your enemy, Kook, get it the fuck together.
Jungkook stalks away, grabbing his bussing bin and rag so he can clean up the table of the group in line to pay.
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“Fuck you and your sorry-ass school!” 
Jungkook turns his head to see you standing feet shoulder-width apart with your arms crossed, looking so much like the evil bitch he’s come to know. Only this time, it’s directed towards an EXO-U fan, by the looks of the silver and black shirt he’s sporting.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
You command the space well, and had the man been sober, he probably would have listened to you when you gave him the polite option to leave on his own two feet. As luck would have it, the man grew more belligerent with each passing moment, causing Jungkook to run and grab Yoongi from the back to help handle the situation. Jungkook doesn’t like what he’s hearing when he returns to the front.
“You dumb cunt, we don’t have to leave! Come over here, baby, suck my cock like you suck their players, bet that’s why they won, huh? Saw you all over their star player earlier, let me get a piece, bitch.”
Jungkook wants to lunge at the man, but Yoongi beats him to the table, effortlessly grabbing the man by his arm and neck to yank him from his booth seat.
Jungkook gets to his other side, helping the man walk towards the double glass doors as Yoongi mutters menacingly at the patron.
“Best not show your face around here again, if you know what’s good for you. Find another place to eat, and we won’t beat your ass.”
Yoongi lets go of the man once they clear the sidewalk into the parking lot, the man’s friends stumble out behind, but Jungkook shoves the man hard, and he falls to the ground. He feels no remorse for the man; he reminds him too much of the creeps his mom dealt with: stench of alcohol on their breath that grew with each vulgar word that rolled out of their mouths, animosity leeching from their greasy skin—Jungkook needs to wash his hands and splash his face. 
Fleeing inside, he bypasses you cleaning up the mess the rowdy table left behind, unable to hear the words you say clearly enough to decipher them. He knows that it’s almost time to close up and he has a few tasks to do to help speed up the process, but he’ll get to them in a minute. He just needs a minute to shake off this feeling, and then he’ll be okay to do the final cleaning for the evening, and find out what you said.
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You’ve always hated dealing with the championship game guests, but always loved being with the crowd because of the thrill and your love for the game. The shift wasn’t terrible work-wise, as Jungkook really pulled his weight throughout the shift, allowing you to be in charge as the hostess and main waitress, filling in where you needed and bussing tables as the guests rotated through the double doors.
And you can’t lie, when you almost lost your balance on the counter, it was kind of hot that he was there to catch you, and help you down safely. With his jawline that can cut glass and his warm hands sitting large on your hips, you were a little sad to have them drop away, but you hid your disappointment in congratulating Suga and then moved on with the shift.
Of course, such a perfectly good shift had to end with a douchebag. To your surprise, when you turn to look to Jungkook for help, he’s already approaching with Suga in tow. And damn your worst enemy if he doesn’t do the second hottest thing of the night, vanquishing the drunkard with the sailor’s mouth from your sight, his foul friends trailing behind. 
You clear off the table, the half-eaten food discarded in the trash and you realize that it needs to be taken out now before the last of the tables are done. Jungkook speed walks past you, so you call out to him, “Cooky, take the trash out, please!”
You finish sweeping under the table, then wipe down the booth’s table as Suga also returns inside, pausing to check on you.
“Everything good, Cakes?”
You nod, placing a hand on your hip as you reflect on the incident. “Yeah, he was a real fuck boy, but you and Cooky saved me just in time.”
“Always…I’m surprised Cooky was so worked up when he called me from the kitchen. Usually you two are at each other’s throats, I would’ve thought he’d enjoy seeing you deal with a rude customer.”
“Well, we did get yelled at earlier by Jin for last night, so we promised to work together and drop whatever rivalry we have during working hours. So maybe that’s it.”
“Mmm…maybe. Well, let me go help Hobi, this last wave will keep us later if I don’t.” Yoongi takes a few steps to round the counter, then calls back out to you, “The trash is about to overflow, Cakes!”
Frowning, you notice that Jungkook has yet to return to take out the trash. Glancing around the room, you see most of the tables are in stages of eating or waiting for their food. They all seem well and distracted with clips from the post-game coverage, so you decide to take out the trash yourself. Maybe the truce between you and Jungkook isn’t as intact as you think. 
Grumbling to yourself, you tie off the bag and lift it from the bin, foot angled to keep the wheels from sliding across the floor from the tug. You eye the replacement black bag, but decide to put it in once you return from the dumpster. 
You hate taking out the trash; you love feminism but some tasks are just made for men. You refuse to use the loud trolley with the janky wheel, so you carry the bag gingerly, resting it down every few steps as you make your way across the sparsely lit back parking lot.
“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who didn’t let me finish my meal.”
You snap your head around, eyes roving for the source of the raspy words, finally landing on the douchebag discharged from the diner only 10 minutes ago.
“We didn’t charge you for it, so I suggest you leave before this turns into a real problem.” You keep your eyes on him, watching as he shifts around on his feet, inching closer to you. You hold your stance, refusing to look weak in case he decides you’d make a good target.
“Maybe if you come suck me off like a good girl, I won’t leave a bad review online about how much of a cunt you’re being. Matter of fact, throw in some pussy, let me fuck you properly and I bet all that attitude will drop. You just need someone to tame you.”
The man lunges for your left arm, his meaty fist closing around your wrist and you pull back to break the contact but he’s strong. You yell out, stumbling back away from the trash bag and he follows, heavy footfalls adding to the sounds of the evening. 
“Let go, you freak!”
You jolt your arm, wrenching it in as many directions as you can to try and relax his grip but he pulls you closer to him until you can smell the ethanol on his breath as he places his other hand forcefully on your shoulder. 
“I said I wanted you on your knees, stupid bitch,” he utters, and reflexively you punch him in his dick. He groans and releases you, hunching over in pain. You make out a figure stepping through the service door, and you call out for help. Attempting to step around the man, you only make it a few steps before you feel the weight of the man bearing down on you again.
“You stupid bitch!”
You try to run, but the man has the back of your dress in his grip so instead, your shoes scrape the asphalt in the same place repeatedly. A loud thwack of flesh on flesh sounds right before you’re released, dropping the short distance to the concrete. Your palms and knees feel the sting of the gravel but the relief of being out of the man’s hold overpowers any lingering pain as you scramble to your feet. 
Behind you, Jungkook is pummeling the man in the face, and you pause for a moment in shock before you rush back to him, grabbing his bicep to stop him from swinging again.
“Cooky, stop, I’m okay! Jungkook!”
He freezes, turning to look at you as if to see if your statement is true, and seeing that you’re serious, he appears to deflate a bit, no longer an attacking watchdog but a protective knight, making sure his charge is unscathed.
“Let’s go.” He gestures for your hand and you place yours in his, letting him guide you away from the groaning sack of trash and the garbage bag on the ground.
The fluorescent lights of the break room are blinding after the darkness of outside. Vaguely you hear Jungkook yelling at the others working, followed by the clattering of kitchen items, but you’re so out of sorts you don’t even realize that Jungkook has maneuvered you into a chair and is gently checking your knees, palms, and arms. He brushes off the remaining dirt from your skin.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
His voice sounds pained, and this pulls you from your thoughts and back to the present with him. 
“Um, I don’t think so.”
“Where all did he touch you? It might not hurt now, but once the adrenaline dies off, you might feel it.”
“Um, my arm, my shoulder, I can’t…I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, let me check your neck…he grabbed your dress and pulled you, so I wanna make sure it won’t bruise.”
He takes your face in his hands delicately, tilting your head to expose your neck to his view. The proximity has your head spinning, his cologne enveloping you as he leans closer, a hand leaving your cheek to allow a finger to trail across your neckline. You know he’s just checking to make sure that there’s no lingering marks, but you don’t think that the after effects of tonight will be anything anyone can see. He grabs a glass of water for you, and you sit quietly while he tends to the minor cuts on your palms from the jagged gravel in the parking lot. 
Time seems to pass as you’re deep in thought, but you’re not sure how much until Seokjin appears, his purple and white painted face replacing the doe eyes and clenched jaw. He looks frazzled, as if he just left an after-party for the championship and was pulled into work. You realize after a moment that that’s actually what happened, and chuckle at yourself. He says your real name, pulling you out of your laughter.
“I’m so sorry this happened, luckily Jungkook was there. I don’t know what I would've done if something happened to you.” Seokjin pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, squeezing him tighter as the feeling of being held feels good. He pulls away sooner than you like, but he continues talking to you about what’s been going on since you’ve been sitting in the employee lounge.
“Look, don’t worry about staying and cleaning up tonight, okay? We’ve got everything under control. Hobi called the cops and Yoongi made sure the guy didn’t flee before they came. He’s in their custody now.”
“What about Jungkook?” you ask, uncharacteristically using his given name.
“He’s giving his statement to the police now. They’ll want to talk to you too, but I can put it off for tonight if you need,” Seokjin offers kindly, but you want to get it over with.
“It’s okay, I’ll speak to them now.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll grab one of the detectives now and they can take your statement, and then I’m sending you home. Jungkook will drive you, okay? You’re still a bit shaky.”
You look down at your hands, seeing the tremble Seokjin is referencing and nod. There’s no use in putting up a fight. All of the men you work with have now proven that you’re safe with them. Seokjin walks over to the door, popping his head out to call for an officer, and he paces quietly as you recount what happened, starting with the attacker growing belligerent in the dining area. Once finished, Seokjin grabs Jungkook from where he’s talking with Yoongi outside the door, ushering him to take your belongings and get you home.
You follow along, compliant, waving goodbye to the others as Jungkook pulls off into the main road back towards campus.
“You live by BTS-U, right?”
“Yeah, at Omelas, next to the train tracks.”
Neither of you speak again until he parks, turning off the engine to his jeep.
“Here, let me help you.” Jungkook grabs your backpack and climbs out of the SUV, coming around to the passenger side door to open it for you. You jump out and lead the way to your first -floor apartment. Unlocking the door, you flip on the lights as you toe off your non-slip work shoes.
“My roommate is out of town visiting her parents this weekend.”
Dumping your purse onto the kitchen counter, you walk further into your home, Jungkook trailing you slowly. He kicks off his shoes, socks shuffling quietly along the carpet as he enters your living room after closing and securing the front door lock. He places your backpack on the couch, and the two of you stand there awkwardly.
“Um, do you want some water or something? I have juice, milk, beer…” you trail off, uncertain.
“Water is fine, thanks.”
You grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it with ice water to return the favor from earlier as you bolster your courage to thank him. You hand him the glass and before you can think too hard, you just start speaking.
“Jungkook, I just wanted to thank you, for coming out there and, you know, saving me. I know we don’t get along much, but you really came through and I appreciate it.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen, blinking up at you from where he’s sitting on your couch. He takes a long sip from the glass, and he seems uncertain if he wants to speak but does so anyway.
“It was nothing, really.”
“Why, um, why did you help me, I mean—I’m just saying, oh this is coming out wrong—”
“Look, I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with creeps like him. I’ve had to do it plenty for my mom, and I just don’t like to see anyone getting hurt, not even my arch nemesis.” Jungkook tries to joke it off at the end, but his tone reveals so much more to you about what he’s not saying.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was like that for you back in high school.” You sit down next to him, closer than you normally would with your backpack taking up part of the seat, but you don’t mind it. You feel safer being closer to him.
“I mean, why would you know?” he asks, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip. “You have a perfect family, I’m sure nothing like this happened on the weekly at your place.”
“No, but like, my perfect family isn’t what everyone thinks it is, either. My parents didn’t pay attention to me, always busy working and what not. Honestly career day, back in like fifth grade was the only time one of my parents made it to something, and even then, it was so my dad could advertise his business. I felt so sheltered growing up, like I had no life skills. It’s why I work at the diner.”
Jungkook digests your words, understanding blooming through his chest. 
“I get that. It’s funny, I remember that day so well, I was so jealous of you, because your dad showed up for you. I guess our dads are the same though…I think if I had grown up with my parents still together, I would’ve felt like you do. My dad kind of left me behind when he remarried, you know? In a way, that made me less sheltered, because when I was with my mom, I had to grow up fast. I couldn’t always have the nicest things because she couldn’t always afford them.”
“I didn’t realize that you had to split time between them. One of my friends, Jimin? He told me about how your dad wouldn’t let you take things back and forth between houses.”
“Why did he do that?” Jungkook looks a little scandalized, and you’re sure it’s because Jimin is one of his best friends. He’s the one who recommended that he apply to Jin’s Diner in the first place, and how you knew to warn Jin to not hire Jungkook, not that it worked. “I didn’t know you were close with Jimin!”
“We used to work together…you actually replaced him. It’s why we were hiring in the first place. But, he told me that because he was trying to get me to ease up on you one day. I was complaining about something and he was trying to make you more human, I guess.”
Jungkook just nods. You know he probably realizes there’s no reason to be mad, it was all in the past and Jimin was coming from a good place when he revealed that.
“Well, it’s true. My dad is kind of the worst. My mom saved up to get me some Dunks back in middle school because my dad couldn’t be bothered to take me back to school shopping. As if I didn’t grow a foot and 3 shoe sizes.”
“Oh fuck, you know, I’m sorry for making Nayeon spill her drink on your shoes. That was really evil of me.”
“We were like 13? 14? All middle school girls are evil.” Jungkook chuckles. You’re relieved at how gracious he’s being, but a little annoyed. You turn to him to say as much, but he continues to speak. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we went toe to toe like that. We probably would’ve been best friends if we had combined our smarts. You were really great during the Youth of the Year competition. I’m sorry that you didn’t win, I think you deserved to.”
Jungkook is looking back at you now, with his pretty doe eyes, sitting so close to you. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, instead focusing on his star-filled eyes and the way they’re staring into your own. His arm moves slowly, lifting to bring his hand to your face, curling a tendril of hair behind your ear.
“It’s getting pretty late now, I should get home,” he starts, but his eyes speak volumes and it doesn’t seem like he wants to leave just yet. “But there’s still one more thing I need to apologize for.”
Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to what incident it could be when his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, not too forceful but not shy either—just the right amount to let you know this isn’t a mistake. It takes you a few seconds to respond, but when you sense Jungkook about to move away you pull him in closer, keeping his lips where you can access them. It’s not enough though, so throwing caution to the wind, you straddle him as your tongue swipes for entry, pushing him further into the couch as you lean into his fit body. He groans at your boldness, large hands planted firmly on your ass as the kiss deepens. You feel dangerously high, lacking oxygen, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. He’s intoxicating.
His fingers tighten imperceptibly, and you know he, too, is at the end of his air, so you break apart, chest heaving as you stare at his lips, red and plump from the kiss. 
“That was your…apology for? Or you were…apologizing for…kissing me?” you pant, trying to catch your breath.
“Both?” he says with a cute, bunny-like smile, “one, for hating you all these years, and two, for kissing you out of the blue.”
“And if I want you to apologize to me more?” you half-question, half-goad, and Jungkook gives the right answer, leaning into you once more so he can kiss you hard, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away.
“That’s something I can do.” Jungkook uses his strength to flip you onto your back on the couch, knocking your backpack out of the way and onto the floor. “Is this okay?” He searches your eyes for your consent to his hands on your thighs, fingertips skimming the hem of your dress. 
You nod, and he trails them higher until he’s grasping the band of your panties and sliding them down without haste. You enjoy the commanding presence he takes on, unlike the people you deal with on a daily at work, indecisive with what to order, he knows exactly what he wants, and when Jungkook pushes up your dress and buries his face between your thighs, it takes everything in you not to climax right then. His tongue flits around your clit, teasing you as his hands massage your thighs while keeping them wide for him. 
“Jungkook,” his name is a breathy whisper in the air as your fingers curl around his locks, tightening your grip when he flicks closer to where you need him. “Please.”
You wiggle your hips, searching for more friction from his tongue but he just pulls away, tutting his tongue at you for being bad. You sit up slightly to glare at him.
“Patience, baby.”
Whining, you lay back on the couch with a huff. “This is why we hated each other bac—oh, fuck me,” you finish with a moan as he flattens his tongue across your pussy and stimulates every nerve he can cover. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he begins to suck, gently flicking his tongue every few seconds as he positions two fingers at your dripping center. Delving inside of you, the plunge of his fingers reaches the ache inside of you, causing your legs to tremble as he fine-tunes your body like an instrument. 
“Feels so good, mmph, fuck,” is all you can manage to say as he continues to pump his fingers, the squelching of your walls suctioning them back in with every tug out only making you wetter. Jungkook hums, and the thrumming sensation curls your toes. Arching your back, you tug his hair hard as you mewl loudly from the impending orgasm.
“You can do it, baby, cum for me,” Jungkook praises, “you’re doing so well, squeezing my fingers so tight, watch me.”
When his mouth once again finds its rhythm on your core, it takes just a few seconds of making eye contact with Jungkook, doe-eyes wide as he watches you enjoy his tongue, before you shiver and melt into the euphoria he’s bringing to your body. 
“That’s it, fuck—you look so pretty, baby.”Body spent, you stare up at the ceiling blinking as you come back to earth. Jungkook tucks himself behind you, holding you in his arms. You look down at the arm over your waist, your fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his exposed full sleeve. You can feel his bulge, know that there’s so much more…apologizing you both need to do after years of being enemies, but you have all night for that. And in the morning, you don’t know what will happen, if there will be more to come after tonight, but what you do know is that at this moment you don’t hate Jungkook; not even a little bit, not even at all.
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�� hisunshiine 2023. All rights reserved. 
thank you for reading!!!
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tomhollandisabae · 1 year
Text
lonely- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader
masterlist
fandom; call of duty
summary; after simon had left for his next mission, you were faced with the biggest challenge of your life and you had to get through that all by yourself.
warnings; angst, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of death, english is not my first language
words; idk 🤷🏻‍♀️
a/n; this idea was stuck into my brain since last week and once i couldn't find anything similar to it anywhere to read, i decided to write it myself. also you can send me your requests!!
a/n2; f1 fans please don't come after me i know you're expecting the 2nd part of the story with lewis but i have no motivation to write it😭i'll do it some time, but i don't know when. uni has been draining me out so much.
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"please take care of yourself " was the last thing you told simon -your husband - before he left for yet another mission.
now it had been 12 months and there was no sign of him. however, a lot had happened in the past year, but most importantly you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl -all by yourself.
when you had found out that you were expecting, simon was long gone and you had no way to communicate with him. the only thing that you could do was to get through this pregnancy all alone. thank god that maternity leave was a thing, otherwise you had no idea how you could manage having a baby all by yourself.
whatsoever, you couldn't be mad at your husband as a matter of fact that you had found out about your pregnancy only one week after he had left, while the guilt was everyday eating you alive.
you had no idea how he would react though. you were aware of his past and how his father had treated him.
simon is a lovely human being... towards you. he's a sweet, loving and caring husband and you are absolutely sure that he will make a great father.
you had went through a lot during your pregnancy and you could admit that it wasn't an easy one; mood swings, cravings, morning sickness, back pain etc.
the worst part of it all was when you went into labour. you had spent hours and hours trying to bring the little bundle of joy, that you and the love of your life had created together, into this world.
and after many hours of pain and screaming you were finally holding your baby girl in your arms. the first thing that you had noticed about her were her eyes -same as her father's- and that made your eyes well up with tears.
now it had been almost 4 months since you had given birth and the constant stress of taking care of a baby by yourself had tore you apart both physically and emotionally. you were barely sleeping, you had lost your appetite and were actually a walking wreck.
some nights you would spend them in your bed crying yourself to sleep, wishing your husband was here to help you out.
currently, you were taking a shower as you heard your daughter crying. sighing deeply, you got out and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the nursery.
you took her in your arms and sat down on the rocking chair, lowering your towel and starting feeding her. once she was fed, you put her back to sleep and went into your room, changing quickly and laying on your bed.
you brought both your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out any kind of light source and bit on your bottom lip trying not to cry, again.
as your mind wander in different places, you didn't hear the front door opening and closing as well as the heavy footsteps on the staircase.
you only raised your head as you saw your bedroom door opening, revealing your husband.
immediately, you were flooded by many different emotions as you jumped up from the bed and attacked him in a -suffocating- hug.
simon chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms protectively around you and kissed the top of your head.
"i can't believe that you're back." you pulled away for a moment "you're actually back." you embraced him again not having noticed the tears that were spilling from your eyes.
"i'm sorry it took me too long my love" he mumbled on top of your head as he squished you in his arms.
"i missed you" you lifted your head up, looking at him.
"i missed you y/n" he leaned down and slowly brought his lips on top of yours kissing you softly and yet so loving.
sooner or later, however, you broke away as you looked up at him with a huge smile.
"i have to show you something" you said excited and grabbed his hand, leading him out of your bedroom and across the hall way.
you glanced at him anxiously as you slowly opened the door of your baby's room. you turned on the lights and guided simon inside.
you were looking carefully at him as his expression changed from a curious one to a shocked.
"love..." he exclaimed as he turned to look at you while his bottom lip was trembling.
"i found out one week after you left. i had no way to tell you, simon, i'm so sorry" the guilt took over you.
"shh it's okay." he wrapped his arms once again around you as you sobbed into his chest.
"i just... it was awful, simon. first the guilt that there was a way to tell you, but i was too stupid to think about it and second all the pain, the emotions, everything... i just feel so... useless." you cried out.
"hey" he grabbed both your cheeks and looked you in the eye "you're the strongest woman i've ever known in my entire life, y/n. not only for going through a pregnancy and labour by yourself, but also for being able to get through that with being aware of a chance of me never coming back again and yet you got enough courage and look where that brought you love."
it was true. every time he would go on a new mission, the curiosity of his well being would kill you. every single day you were checking you mail for a letter that would be proclaiming your husband dead.
"i love you so much simon" you raised on your tiptoes and buried your face into the crook of his neck.
"i love you more sweetheart." he lifted your head once again and kissed you softly.
you were so grateful for the feeling of his warm, soft lips against yours, kissing them with so much love and care. every single time you would be in his radar, this man would worship the ground you were walking on.
finally, you pulled away with a small smile.
"come on" you guided him towards the crib where the newborn baby was sleeping in soundly.
carefully, you picked her up in your arms and turned towards simon that was looking at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing on earth.
"do you want to hold her?" you suggested.
"i... i don't know how" he admitted and you kissed his cheek smiling.
"that's why i'm here for. i'll show you how." you said and just like that you handed the small baby over to your husband that was feeling as if he was holding the most fragile thing in the world.
"she's... so small." he stroked lightly her rosy cheek with his thump.
what took you aback was that her little hand enveloped his pinky finger, holding it firmly. you gasped and his breath hitched in his throat.
"wow she didn't even do that to me. only knowing you for a few minutes and she's already a daddy's girl." you complained jokingly placing your hands on your hips.
"really doubt that. there's no one better than you." he kissed your forehead and your face broke into a huge smile as you wrapped your arms around your husband, admiring the way your daughter was rested in her father's chest, not really believing that you had finally built a family with the man you loved most in the entire world.
at that moment, you couldn't be more happy.
3K notes · View notes
avatar-anna · 9 months
Text
Rumors
so...i've had this concept rattling around in my brain, but i had no idea how to write it, so i used pictures instead. i definitely want to do more, but tumnlr only allows 10 pictures a post, so here's to hoping i remember to come back to this in the future!
yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift and 67,530 others
yourinstagram: had a very cool dude over today to make even cooler music
yoursistersinstagram: you let someone in the bat cave?!
y/nfan5: possible collab on the new album?
yourinstagram: more like i was helping someone with theirs ;))
harrystyles: Thank you for having me. X.
harryfan3: HARRY???
harryfan7: omgomgomgomgomg
y/nfan1: pls god let us have a harry and y/n collab on his next album i NEED it
harrystyles
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liked by gemmastyles, yourinstagram and 2,233,781 others
harrystyles: HS3. Coming soon.
harryfan8: NEW ALBUM ALERT
harryfan11: HARRY YOU CANT JUST DROP SOMETHING LIKE THAT WITHOUT A RELEASE DATE
harryfan4: this has to be what he was working on with y/n right?
y/nfan3: i need them both on a song together
yourinstagram: had fun late night talking with you xx
y/nfan9: i'm sorry wHAT
harryfan5: is this flirting this sounds like flirting
harryfan13: honestly...here for it
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan7 and 4,320 others
y/nupdates: Y/n in a video for Vogue recently!
"A lot of people ask me how Harry Styles ended up recording at my house when we'd virtually never crossed paths before. It was actually Taylor (Swift) who kind of set the whole thing up. They spoke at the Grammys last year and she apparently gave him my number so we could work together...He called and asked if I was available to help with his album at all. At the time I was on the road, then working on stuff for the band, and it just kind of went back and forth for a few months while we tried to line up our schedules. Then I was done touring, but I was kind of in a weird state in life where I didn't want to leave the house or hang out with anyone. And I remember making up excuses because I wasn't really up to making myself presentable to a whole team of people I'd never met before and having our first meeting be this huge thing. I'd basically built it all up in my head about how our ideas would clash and we wouldn't get along and I just kept telling him maybe some other time. Long story short, Harry showed up at my place a week later by himself with just a guitar, a notebook, and my favorite takeout order. We spent the whole day together working on a bunch of different stuff from themes to genres of music to sampling and mixing. And writing. Lots and lots of writing. And now he's a dear friend. He's so sweet and so talented. I wish him all the best with the new album."
y/nfan8: ok i'm glad it worked out and everything but imagine a virtual stranger showing up to your HOUSE?? like she said no and he basically forced her to write his album for her
y/nfan4: that's so real of her tbh to not want to leave her house
y/nfan2: y/n is notoriously introverted it makes sense
harryfan13: girl...
y/nfan7: i don't think it was that serious. and if she really didn't want him there she could've said no
harryfan13: and y/n literally called him a friend?? stop trying to start shit that doesn't exist
y/nfan7: of COURSE mother brought them together
harryfan17: i can't believe that's what harry and taylor were talking about in the video!
harryfan2: chill harry doesn't need to be in a relationship with every woman he's associated with
harryfan4: wait but wasn't y/n at that grammys too?
harryfan9: it was still covid it's possible their paths didn't cross
y/nfan19: wait what if he was too shy to go up to her??😭
harryfan4: i love that they're writing besties now but i think they'd be so cute together 🥹
hsupdates
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liked by harryfan4 and 10,343 others
hsupdates: Harry about Y/n L/n for Rolling Stone:
"I've always admired (Y/n's) work. She and her band are incredibly talented, and are just so passionate about creating music. I wanted that same energy for my third album, the freedom to make whatever I want without any reservations, and I knew Y/n was the perfect addition to the team. It took some convincing, but once we kind of got started, we couldn't stop. As we've gotten to know each other these past few months, I not only respect her as a musician, but for the person she is as well. Her soul is one of a kind, and I feel like my album would be so different without her on it. So now not only do I have an album that I'm proud of and love, but I got an extraordinary friend out of it too."
harryfan9: so this is what people mean when they say platonic soulmates
y/nfan12: all we've gotten is crumbs and i'm already in love with their friendship. and the album of course
y/nfan2: i'm so interested to hear this album now. if y/n is on it it has to be good
harryfan3: "her soul is one of a kind?" if that's harry as a friend i don't think i can handle boyfriendrry😭
y/nfan7: i'm holding out hope for them honestly🤞🏼🤞🏼
liked by harrystyles and 23,724 others
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram: you've fallen from the sky down to me, i see it in your face, i'm relief, i'm your summer girl
y/nfan17: shut up are those song lyrics??
yourbandinstagram: the tears behind your dark sunglasses, the fears inside your heart as deep as gashes🎶🎶
y/nfan17: HOLY SHIT those ARE lyrics!
y/nfan6: haven't even heard the song and i know the girls have done it again
harryfan4: could it...could it be about harry?
y/nfan8: you're grasping at straws
harryfan12: are they? they've been spotted together all over LA
harrystyles: ☀️☀️
y/nfan8: as friends. friends can hang out can't they?
harryfan3: new music from harry AND y/n? we're about to be fed y'all
harryfan10: THEY REALLY ARE BESTIES
y/nfan2: i bet they collaborated on this song together
Interviewer (I): What's one memory or experience you can share from making this album? Any trips to Japan or Jamaica?
Harry (H): We stayed in Los Angeles mostly for this one. But erm...in terms of a specific memory...I would say that while I was working with Y/n, one of the tracks was actually inspired by her cat.
I: Really?
H: Yeah. Whenever it did something to annoy Y/n, which was quite often, she'd call her a little freak. The song's obviously not about the cat, but the phrase was in my head and yeah. Things just kind of...snowballed from there.
I: The sound that Y/n's band has is more rock centric, a similar sound to your first album. Is that what we can expect for your third studio album?
I: You've become quite close to Y/n L/n it seems like.
H: Not necessarily. Y/n and I collaborated, but she also let me take the reins in terms of sound. She had opinions of course and we would bounce ideas off of each other...but she really just followed my lead and supported the vision I had. She is playing a majority of the instruments on the album, though.
H: It's hard not to.
I: How so?
I: It sounds like you could go on for quite some time about her.
H: She's just cool, you know? I was kind of intimidated when we met for the first time. She's quiet, but you never forget that she's in the room, you just want to go over and talk to her. Of course once you meet her she's incredibly kind and not at all intimidating, but still like chill and stuff. The first time we met we sat for an hour just talking about music we enjoyed and live shows we wanted to attend and things we learned while in lockdown. She's just effortlessly cool. An old soul, I guess. And somehow she translates that into her music. Her sisters, too. They're all just first-rate musicians.
H: Sorry. I kind of gushed for a minute there.
H: And the band. They're just so talented, you know?
harrystyles
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liked by jeffazoff and 4,211,323 others
harrystyles: From start to finish, making this album has been such an incredible journey. It was so fun to try new things sonically while also making something that I'm one hundred percent proud of. I've never felt more myself while making music than I did while creating this album for all of you, and I have so many people to thank for that. Hopefully you know who you are. I love, love, love you.
harryfan16: 😭😭😭😭😭
harris_reed: little angel👼
harryfan3: WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU
yourinstagram: congratulations h. you deserve it.💐💐💐
harrystyles: I couldn't have done it without you💐
yourinstagram
liked by yourbandinstagram and 53,089 others
yourinstagram: for one night and one night only...but in all seriousness shout out to my friend and his incredible album. happy to have been a part of the magic :)))
harryfan13: HAPPY HARRY DAY!!!
harryfan4: is she in ny??
y/nfan7: yes! she was spotted with harry before the show today
harryfan9: they're literally so cute i love their friendship
harrystyles: You made the magic happen. Thank you for everything. X.
harryfan3: they're so...
y/nfan2: i genuinely think they like fucking with us bc i legitimately can't tell if they're dating or not
y/nfan7: at this point i don't even care i love whatever they're doing they both just seem so happy to be besties/lovers/collaborators and i love that for them
harryfan5: ^^
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan10 and 3,742 others
y/nupdates: Y/n performing Keep Driving onstage with Harry in NYC tonight at ONO!
y/nupdates: When he introduced her, he said: "Tonight is special in a lot of ways. I'm sharing my album with you for the first time, my family's here, my friends are here, and...a very good friend of mine is here to play a song with me tonight. This album wouldn't have been possible without her, so please give her as much love as you've given me. Y/n L/n, everybody!"
harryfan4: stop they're so close it hurts😭
y/nfan7: i was there they were staring at each other and smiling the whole time!
harryfan12: that's the one where he says choke her with a sea view!?
y/nfan7: YES AND I SWEAR HIS SMILE GOT BIGGER WHEN HE SANG THAT PART AND LOOKED AT HER LIKE HE FULLY HAD TO TURN AROUND TO LOOK AT HER BC SHE WAS PLAYING THE DRUMS
harryfan3: i'm choosing to believe they're in love idc what anyone else says
hs/ynupdates
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hs/ynupdates: Harry, Y/n, and her sisters in New York after ONO tonight! Apparently Harry and Y/n were standing and walking very close to each other. Like arms wrapped around each other close.
harryfan2: that could literally mean anything tho. they're good friends why wouldn't they walk next to each other?
y/nfan14: i feel like they don't know if they're dating or not at this point😅
y/nfan8: her sisters are so unserious i love it
y/nfan5: i love that they all showed up for harry🥹
yourbandinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 710,225 others
yourbandinstagram: Thanks for having us, London!
y/nfan1: i can't believe i got to see harry and y/n perform in ONE NIGHT
harryfan3: sending my love and my tears to everyone who got to experience this historic night
harrystyles: Thank you for taking the time to share the stage with me. X.
yourbandfan2: how do y'all always look so good 😭
I: So you opened for Harry Styles a few weeks ago and performed a song with him in New York.
Y/n: My sisters and I did, yeah.
I: How did that come about? Did your team call his team? Or was it more casual than that?
Y/n: Oh, definitely more casual. I think we were just hanging out together one morning and he kind of just suggested it. No bells and whistles or anything like that.
I: So can we expect (Your band) to join Harry on his upcoming tour, then?
Y/n: I don't think so. We're working on putting out a record of our own at the moment, but we do want to get back out on the road soon, but I will definitely be attending more of his shows in the future.
I: And what can we expect from this upcoming record? Did Harry help you the way you helped him out?
Y/n: I've sent him a couple things to listen to, and I value his opinion a lot, both as a friend and as an artist. He also showed me a couple records recently which kind of influenced how I approached some of the songs sonically. He's got a huge vinyl collection at his house. I'm honestly kind of jealous.
I: There's been some rumors running around that you and Harry are in a romantic relationship. Would you like to put any of those rumors to rest?
Y/n: I could see where people might think that. Harry's very affectionate by nature, and over the last couple of months we've become very close. He's not just someone I admire in the music industry, but as a person in general. I feel incredibly lucky to call him a friend. And a close one, at that.
I: So just a friend then?
Y/n: Yeah. Yeah, just a friend.
913 notes · View notes
kai-anderson-whore · 11 months
Text
Temptations (Kit Walker x nun fem reader) smut
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Requested by @mrsmarch64 thank you so much for this request sorry it took so long to write 🥰
Summary: reader is one of the sisters at the asylum and has the hots for kit which leads to something else
Warnings: smut, kit being accused of crimes, asylum, sex, oral reader receiving, virgin reader, Christianity, religion, getting caught, punishment, solitary confinement
Taglist: @spill-the-t @iluwmycats @lili-tate @evanpeterswifeyy868 @jademunson @evanpetersfansblog @howtobesasha @lustforeverrrr @fand0mh03
•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°
Working in the asylum was hard you didn't like the hard punishment the patients get expecially one person in particular kit walker. You knew from the get go he was innocent you saw it in his eyes when you would have discussions as part of his treatment.
As the months grew you began to have feelings for kit, he didn't know until he caught you giving him lingering glances in which he gave you a smirk in return. You knew you shouldn't feel such feelings towards anyone the feelings of lust, desire, neediness. But that all changed when kit came along.
You and kit were in the kitchen he was helping you make bread for the local bakery. You were kneeding the dough whilst kit was cleaning up some of the dishes that you weren't using anymore. "You know sister y/l/n I still don't get why your the only one of the nuns and workers that is nice to me why" kit's voice broke the lingering silence between you both.
You were caught off guard you stopped kneeding the dough you breath hitched in your throat. You didn't know how to approach this or what to say, "well I could tell you were innocent from the moment I saw you kit I saw it in your eyes and in your time spent here you never laid a finger on anyone only spoke your innocence and truth".
Kit watched you closely noticing you haven't moved from your spot your eyes focused on the dough in front of you. "Sister your the only one who believes me here I can't thank you enough" kit whispered you hadn't realised he was right behind you, "you don't have to thank me" you whispered back the heat rising through your body.
You knew you shouldn't feel this way you made a vow to God you knew it was wrong to even feel this way. You felt kit's hands on your arms his mouth closer to your ear feeling his hot breath on your neck the scent of his last cigarette still lingering almost bringing you to your knees.
"But I want to sister, I saw the way you look at me it's definitely not how the lady of the cloth should look at someone" he chuckled his hands rubbing your arms your breath hitched feeling like shocks of electricity through your body.
"Kit we can't what if we get caught and plus I'm a woman of God we simply can't it's a sin" you whimperd feeling his erection against your back making your mind cloud with lust. You wanted to desperately just let him take you then and there but you had it drummed in your head that it was sinful and in this places eyes it was probably the worst thing to to give in to your sexual desires to a patient.
"I mean with the things that happen in here I think this is the last of anyone's problems sister" his breath tingling on your skin sending shivers down your spine but you knew it was right plus you couldn't fight it anymore you wanted him and he wanted you. You turned around now pinned against kit and the counter. Kit's arms on the counter shielding you in a devilish smirk on his lips his eyes scanning you like prey making you weak at the knees.
His eyes bored into your nervous ones, you could see the lust in them how they darkened as he thought about all the unholy things he wanted to do with you right now. You swallowed a lump in your throat trying to speak but before you could even get a word out kit crashes his lips on yours. Filled with hunger and passion your eyes wide open in shock before slowly closing them responding to the kiss.
You hands on the back of his neck holding him close the worry of you not being a good kisser in the back of your mind. Kit's hands on your hip pulling you closer till his erection poked your thigh, he pulled away from your lips traveling to your neck sucking and slightly biting on the exposed skin. "God I want you so bad" he groaned you couldn't help but let out a small moan a sound that never left your lips before turning your cheeks a flush pink shade as kit continues his work on your neck.
Your hands pressed against his chest as his own went to the back of your thighs guiding you on the counter your uniform bunching up revealing your bare legs to him. His lips pressing up your leg till his head was under your dress placing a kiss on your clothed clit an audible gasp leaving your lips. Your skin burning with desire while kit's fingers hooked your underwear peeling them off your legs and onto the floor.
"You ready sister y/n?" He asked looking up at you through his long lashes the sight made you even more wetter. You nodded your head unable to let the words leave your lips. "I'm going to need you to use your words sister" kit softly chuckled a small smirk tugging on his lips seeing the effect he had on you already. "Yes kit please" you whimperd pushing your thighs together desperate for some sort of friction.
Kit slotted himself between your legs kneeling down placing his lips on each of your thighs one last time before pressing a sloppy kiss on your clit. A loud gasp leaving your lips, your head pulled back, jaw slack the feeling overwhelming yet so good. Kit kitten licked your clit stimulating you hearing the sounds of your moans fill his ears.
"You know sister your gonna have to keep quiet" he teased yet warned.
All you did was nod trying to keep your mouth shut in fear you would get caught. Kit continues his work on your throbbing heat the pleasure unbearable for you since this was the very first time you did anything of this sort. Kit then darted his tongue in your entrance his nose brushed over your clit adding a whole new pleasure to the mix. You had to put your hand over your mouth to block out the moans leaving your lips "Oh god" you moaned against your own hand as you felt yourself close to the edge.
Kit never missed a beat bringing you to your first orgasm keeping your hand secured on your mouth tears brimming your eyes completely overwhelmed of the feeling of euphoria. Kit went back to licking you through your high your legs slightly shaking from overstimulation. Licking up your arousal kit pulled away from your heat standing straight licking his lips. You went to jump off the counter to return the favour but kit stopped you before you could even get off.
"What you doing?" He asked his brows furrowed, "returning the favour" you said feeling slightly embarrassed kit smiled shaking his head. "Nah you don't need to worry about that this is about you right now I want to make you feel good" he stated kissing your lips again letting you taste yourself on his tongue. freeing his painful erection kit lined up with your entrance you took a deep breath squeezing your eyes preparing yourself for what's coming next.
You felt the pain as he slowly pushed into you. "I'm gonna need you to relax I know it hurts but I promise it will go away" he reassured you peppering your face with his lips distracting you from the pain. Before you knew it he bottomed out staying still letting you adjust to the foreign feeling. Kit stretched your walls perfectly as you told him to move once the pain turned into pleasure.
Thrusting into your wet pussy, your hand holding him close by the neck your breathing was heavy the sweat building up as he thrusted into you with a passionate pace. The thought of getting caught and the fact you gave yourself to god left your mind all that occupied it was kit and the way he made you feel.
"Your so beautiful" he whispered against your lips making you want those plump lips on yours.
"Kiss me" you said kit smiled before giving in to your need for his lips. Kissing you with the amount of passion his hips gave into you. It felt more than a quick fuck meaningful if you will. Kit swallowing your moans feeling that knot form one more time until.
"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON HERE!"  A voice startling you both heads snapping to the person who caught you. Your heart dropped seeing sister jude standing there in horror kit pulled out of you quickly fixing yourself dreading what's to come next.
"Sister jude I'm so sorry" you pleaded making your way over to her. "My office NOW you too Mr walker" she said coldly your heads hung low following your boss into her office for your punishment.
Standing behind the chair sister jude sat on her own eyeing you both up clearly thinking about the punishment you both will receive. "You sister y/n I expected more from you not to give into the temptations of the devil" the disappointment oozing in her tone. "I'm sorry sister jude I know I shouldn't have but I'm only human I just wanted to see what it would be like just once" you whimperd the tears brimming your eyes.
"No sister jude it's all my fault I came onto her please don't punish her" kit pleaded with jude who scoffed at you both. "You are both equally as guilty" you couldn't even hear anything anymore everything else was a blur all you remembered was the backs of your  legs stinging and you were sent to your room as well as kit you were also punishment in some sort of solitary confinement in your room for a week.
All you could think about is kit and the whole kitchen situation late at night. You missed him already you wondered if he regrets it since it got him into trouble but you wouldn't find that out till you were out of punishment.
808 notes · View notes
Note
Hello there ! I'm such a big fan of your work and i wanted to know if you could please write about azriel x plus size reader (cause curvy Queens deserves that giant bat too) ? Maybe something about her having insecurities BC azriel IS surrounded by beautiful slim women and she think that hes's in love with one of them until they're in a fight and he confesse his love to reader. AT first she can't believe it but she goes to cassian who's like "are you seriously that blind? He loved you the moment he looked a you ???" And then you Can add Smut were he workships her, i won't be against it (only if you're confortable with it obviously)
Big thanks for all your work and i looove you !!
Sorry, this took a moment. 🫧🤍
Picture perfect
In a way, you always felt like a misfit. It wasn’t only because of your looks. If you were to be frank you didn’t nitpick at yourself till others started throwing comments here and there. Planting these tiny seeds in your brain. Ones that bloomed it obstructed your vision, altering it in ways that made you cower in the big crowds of people. Made you avoid parties. Made you blind to so many other things.
Your saving grace for a long while had been Azriel. A childhood best friend who had seen you at your worst and stuck through it. So you felt comfortable with him. And even if he wasn’t big on speaking or voicing his opinion. One thing he never missed was completing you. You had always brushed it off. He was a spymaster after all. So, what if he noticed that you colored your hair slightly? Or curled it in another way. Or that you bought a different style of dress. Or got a new perfume. Rhys paid him to be observant, right? It was that until he had sat you down by the river one evening. And blurted out that he liked you while falling over every other word.
“No, you don’t”, you had whispered. “What do you mean, no, I don’t?”, he had pulled back in confusion. “As friends yes but not like… romantically”, you shrugged. Considering that you had fully convinced yourself that he would never fall for you. Not when he could have anyone. “Yn, I know how I feel and so that means that I like you”, Azriel said more firmly as you let out a low laugh, “Why are you doing this?”, you moved to stand up. “Doing what? Yn, if you don’t feel…”, he had moved to stand up but you were already stepping back from him. “I saw you with Sybile by the fountain today, don’t play games with me because I’m an ugly duckling”, you had hissed at him. Leaving him standing there all confused.
And now for the past week, you had done everything to avoid him. Feeling your heart ache more and more now that he wasn’t there to lean on. So your days were spent mopping over the past as you looked out the window till it got pitch black and you forced yourself to crawl into bed.
“Okay, I physically cannot take any more of this”, Cassian had strolled into the house of wind. A box of your favorite pastries in one of his hands. “Then I don’t know why you are here”, you huffed turning away from him. “I’m here because I apparently having the biggest brain out of the two of you”, he chirped, turning your chair so you would face him. “I highly doubt it”, you crossed your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. The general only smirked, he was used to tough bickering with Nesta.
“I will put this very simply”, Cassian said before shoving a donut into his mouth. “Azriel had been an ass. You had been up here for the past week”, he said with crumbs falling from his mouth, making you grimace.
“Can’t you chew and…”, “Shh”, he waved a powdered sugar-covered finger at you. “Now… You know why all of that happened?”, he asked as if you were a toddler. “Yes, Cass, I know. We fought”, you grumbled. But the general only made a dissatisfied boo. “You two are like that because you like each other but your head is more up your ass than his was”, Cassian clicked his fingers.
“That is not true”, you argued, tearing a part of an apple tart. “What’s keeping you from saying yes to him?”, now this hit you harder than you thought, making you stare up at him for a split second. You knew there was no point in lying. This man would sense a lie before it had a chance to leave your mouth.
“I’m not his type”, you muttered under your breath, already feeling your insecurities bubbling. “I would call that bullshit”, Cassian leaned back. “Cass, he dated goddesses. Slim. Tall. Everything sculpted with so much effort”, you grunted, “And then look at me. Ass, tits, I ain’t no size zero”. Cassian tilted his head to the side, “I fail to see a single bad thing in the way you just described yourself”. “Not funny, Cassian”, you grumbled, “I am not making fun of you same goes for Azriel. Do you know that he had been planning to tell you for the last two months? And I caught him vomiting right after dinner because he was way too nervous”, each of the generals words hit you like a blow. Azriel had planned it? Wasn’t a wimp? Wasn’t just a joke. He wanted to… “He’s been an angry little cloud”, Cassian chuckled, “And I think you should take him out of his misery because I know that you feel the same”.
You practically ran through the townhouse. Slipping steps in your way as you rushed to Azriel’s office. Practically falling through the door. Azriel was out of his chair in a hurry. Worry is written all over his face. “Has something happened? Have you been hurt?”, he asked frantically looking you over. You probably didn’t look too put together now that you had run like a maniac to get to him. You shook his head, “I had to see you, had to apologize”, you breathed out, “for the river”. Azriel’s shoulders sagged, “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m not here trying to make you like me”. You let out a painful sigh, “Azriel but I do like you it’s just…”, your voice fell silent for a moment, “I just don’t see why you would like someone like me”, you muttered looking down on yourself.
Azriel frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “Well, don’t you want someone like Sybile, a perfect blond with two symmetrical breasts and no…”, “I will stop you right here”, Azriel cut in, stepping closer to you, cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to cuddle a bag of bones, I would go to the cave up the mountain”, he pointed out, making your eyes shoot out, “Az”, hissed. “I love you first for who you are and you come with extra assets to love. Not that I look at your breast when you wash linens in the river or anything”, Azriel shrugged as you hit his chest playfully, “Pervert”, you muttered. Feeling your lips curve upwards slightly. “I don’t measure my love for you in your weight or looks. And even if I did, it would just mean that I have more love for you”, “When did you turn into such a sweet lovey boy?”, you tilted your head to the side before giving it a little shake. “Just found this picture-perfect girl, she kind of made me fall head over heels for her”, Azriel muttered, before leaning in to kiss you softly.
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bellaxgiornata · 3 months
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-two: "The Recurring Nightmare"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You wake from a from a nightmare in the middle of the night.
Or You finally confide a growing fear of yours to Matt.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. You can find the entire list of installments here.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: I can't believe it took so long for us to get an update, but hopefully y'all enjoy this angsty one. Just a heads up, there is a bit of violent imagery in the beginning scene. Who's up for some Second Angst Arc foreshadowing? Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear
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Pinching the bridge of your nose, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes of blocking out the fluorescent lights that were adding to the pain of your growing headache. Each ding of the elevator as it began to ascend to the top floor of the apartment building only caused the ache to pound harder. 
You'd had a shitty day at the office today working on an article for The Bulletin. You'd spent all afternoon struggling with forming an ending that didn't sound ridiculous and make even you want to gag. And it was all because of Jessica Manning. She'd shown up to work the same story you were, interviewing some of the same people you'd worked hard to get in contact with. On top of that, she had successfully managed to get in your head yet again, making you feel insecure and incompetent when it came to your investigative and writing abilities. 
And of course, as if that wasn't already enough, she'd managed to insult you while making you feel insecure in your relationship with Matt. 
The final ding indicating the elevator had reached the top floor broke through your thoughts and your eyes flew open. Lowering your hand from your nose and back to your side, you stepped off the elevator and began trudging your way down the hallway. As you made your way to the end of it, your hand felt around inside your purse for your keys to the apartment while you tried hard to block out Jessica's voice repeating her insults in your head over and over. Instead, you attempted to picture punching her in the face–as per Katy's suggestion.
Though by the time you'd reached the apartment and fished your keys out of your purse, your stomach was twisting into knots and you felt like crying. It was going to be hard to pretend you were alright when Matt came home from work. And then if you failed at it–which you most likely would with his super senses–he'd find some way to blame himself. Because he always tried to take on all the guilt, blaming himself for your own insecurities when he'd done nothing wrong. 
And that only had you feeling worse. You didn't want to worry Matt. You knew he'd had enough going on with how busy he'd been as Daredevil lately. Your silly little problems didn't even measure up to what he needed to focus on.
No, you'd just have to work on getting over it and getting Jessica's stupid voice out of your head on your own. 
As you slid your key into the lock on the apartment door, you quickly realized the door was already unlocked. For a second you paused, brows knitting together in brief confusion. But then you realized Matt must’ve finished at the office before you had finished at work today. It didn't happen often, but sometimes they had a pretty uneventful day at the firm and Matt would surprise you at home with dinner.
Your stomach twisted tighter into a knot. You thought you'd at least have a half an hour to try to mentally prepare yourself to face him after your encounter with Jessica. But now you'd have to somehow pull yourself together in a matter of seconds so his senses wouldn't pick up on anything. Though truthfully, he'd probably already noticed you and your off mood the moment you'd entered the building with his heightened senses. 
With a heavy sigh, you turned the handle and pushed the door open. You stepped inside, prepared to hear Matt call out and greet you like he usually did whenever you returned home when he was here, but he didn't. Frowning, you turned to shut the door after yourself, wondering where he was–but you stopped when you heard hushed voices.
Eyes narrowing, you tried to focus on the sound coming from down the hall. It sounded like the voices were coming from the living room, but you didn't recognize either of them. Immediately your heart began to beat faster in your chest, your nerves over talking to Matt about your insecurities quickly switching to fear of someone dangerous being inside the apartment.
“...not gonna be causing any problems for us much longer.”
Cautiously you began to make your way down the short entryway hall, walking as quietly as possible on the front part of your feet. You were positive you'd stopped breathing with every step closer that you took towards the voices, your palms beginning to sweat as your hand began to fiddle with your keychain blindly in search of your pepper spray. 
When you finally rounded the corner, you almost dropped your keys entirely. You couldn't completely contain the pained noise that slipped out of your lips at the sight of Matt crumpled in half on one of the dining chairs. The crisp white dress shirt he'd dressed into this morning–the very same one you'd buttoned for him while he flirtatiously teased you in return–was now a rumpled mess stained with bright red spots all over it.
Matt's blood.
“Oh well now, lookie what we have here Mr. Big Shot Vigilante Lawyer!” one of the men called out as he spotted you standing in the entryway. The gun in his hand swung towards you as he continued. “This must be your girl, huh? Guess we're getting two for the price of one today!”
Fear had you frozen to the spot, your eyes shifting from the gun to Matt as his head slowly rose. You audibly gasped at the sight of him, a hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears began to burn at your eyes. His face was battered and bloody, half of it swollen from whatever these men had done to him before you'd shown up. There was blood caked over the entire right side of his face–some dried but most of it glistening bright red in the light. Despite the mess they'd made of his face, you could still see the terror written plain on it as he focused on you across the room.
“Get out!” he warned you, his voice garbled as if his mouth was full of blood. “Go!”
“Matt,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears, shaking your head as the tears began to cloud your vision. “I can't. Can't just leave you.”
His face twisted painfully into a look of sheer despair at your words. 
“What's that she's got in her hand?” the second man called out, taking a step towards you. A loud laugh burst out of him a second later, recognition dawning on his face. He pointed a finger at you as he exclaimed, “She's got pepper spray! Oh, buddy, what's your girl think she's gonna do with pepper spray ?”
You winced as the harsh sound of his laughter once again echoed around the apartment, your hand gripping the canister of pepper spray tighter in your sweaty grasp. Though desperately you wished you had another way to fight them off–an actual weapon, super strength, laser eyes, fucking anything more than the damn pepper spray Matt always insisted you carry. Because what good would it do you right now? You were helpless. Weak. Normal. There was absolutely nothing you could do to save Matt. 
It was that realization which finally had the tears begin to fall.
“That's right, girl,” the first man said, clearly pleased. “Your little superhero ninja boy here can't save you now. He can't even save himself. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”
“Get outta here!” Matt's slurred voice urged again.
The first man glanced at the second before gesturing his head towards Matt. You stood there still rooted to the spot, scanning the room for anything at all you could use to help him. There was absolutely no way you were about to just turn and run out of here, leaving Matt to surely die at these men's hands. You couldn't possibly do that.
But there wasn't much you could do, either.
In helpless horror you watched as the second man raised the gun in his hand high into the air, moving in what almost felt like slow motion. With a savage force, he swung the butt of it towards Matt's face just as Matt opened his mouth one last time. 
“RUN!” 
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Eyes flying wide open in a panic, you were met with nothing but darkness around you. Breathing hard, you tried to place where you were as your eyes darted frantically around the blackness. Your heart was wildly slamming into your ribcage, pounding so violently you swore you could hear your blood pounding in your own ears. 
It took your brain a moment to realize that you were just laying in bed, your body covered in a slight sheen of cold sweat beneath the silk sheets. The familiar and comforting weight of Matt asleep on the bed beside you registered next, his presence almost instantly calming you. Outside of the bedroom windows you heard the faint hum of the mostly asleep city down below, your eyes gradually adjusting to the bit of light from the obnoxious billboard across the street that still filtered in behind the blackout curtains. 
You'd had a nightmare. The same one you'd been having for two weeks now.
Your hands slipped out from beneath the soft sheets as you carefully tried to sit up, desperately attempting to avoid disturbing Matt. You hadn't wanted to bother him any of the times you'd woken from this dream before, embarrassed that it had kept repeatedly bothering you. 
Raising a hand, you ran it across your damp forehead, still trying to orient yourself in the bedroom. A small, dark shape was curled at the end of the bed–Mittens, fast asleep. Trying to take slow, deep breaths, you continued to focus on the safe, familiar space around you. The sound of Matt's faint exhales nearby, the slight patter of rain hitting the windows, the distant sound of a car horn.
This was real.
Movement beside you on the bed caught your attention, your head turning over your shoulder. You heard the rustling of sheets and a frown settled onto your face. You'd been hoping not to bother him, having somehow managed it every other night that you'd had this dream. Though you figured your luck would eventually run out and you'd be forced to discuss this all with him at some point. Because it was Matt and whenever anything was bothering you, he didn't stop digging until he knew exactly what was on your mind.
“Sweetheart?” his sleep-laden voice called through the darkness. 
Your eyelids lowered, well aware he was going to pick up on everything your body was doing now that he was awake. The panicked and alert tone of his voice when he spoke again only proved you right.
“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” he asked. “What's wrong?”
Matt began to quickly push himself upright on the bed beside you, tossing the sheets off of himself in a rush. You shook your head gently, still trying to calm your body despite your unease at the impending conversation. Even though you hadn't meant to wake him, you figured it was no surprise that he had caught onto your distress even in his sleep with how much of a bodily reaction you'd had to the nightmare this time around. It was more of a surprise that you'd never woken him the other nights, honestly. 
“Everything is fine, Matt,” you assured him, still feeling the rapid beating of your heart pounding in your throat. “I'm fine.”
“Your heart is racing,” he pointed out, placing a gentle, comforting hand on your shoulder. “Your blood pressure is elevated and your body feels like it's in a state of panic. What's going on? Did something happen?”
“I just…had a nightmare,” you awkwardly admitted. “That's all.”
“A nightmare?” he asked, confused.
You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead again. “Yeah. I've been having the same one for the past couple of weeks,” you confessed. “Ever since…you came home that night. Injured.”
There was a bit of a pause that followed your admission. The air felt suddenly heavier and colder in the dark.
“How come you've never mentioned the nightmares before?” he questioned carefully.
“Because I didn't want to worry you,” you answered. 
Matt's arm slowly slid its way across your back as he draped it around you. Gradually he drew you into his bare chest and you turned, burying your face into the inviting warmth of his skin. He smelled like sweat and the leather-like material from his Daredevil suit. Your favorite smell.
“What's on your mind, sweetheart?” he whispered, a sadness barely hidden in his tone. “And why haven't you said anything to me?”
You shrugged lightly as his other arm wrapped around you, tugging you into a tight embrace. Eventually your own arms carefully wrapped around his waist, your cheek resting against his chest as you drew yourself in closer to him.
“Because it's stupid,” you muttered. “And you've got enough on your mind.”
“Hey,” Matt said firmly, his arms squeezing you briefly, “nothing that's bothering you is stupid. So why don't you tell me what this nightmare is about?”
The image of Matt battered and beaten, helpless and terrified in one of the dining room chairs, flashed through your mind. Your eyes snapped shut instantly, but the image of him so horribly injured was already seared into your mind. Gritting your teeth together, you turned your face and buried it firmly into Matt's chest. Your fingers dug into the muscles along his back, fearful of that mental image becoming a reality. 
“Sweetheart?” Matt prompted gently. 
Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you knew you'd have to tell him. He'd only pry harder the more you tried to avoid answering.
“It's always me coming home from a bad day at work,” you began quietly, face still buried into his chest, “before I realize you're home already. Before me. But there's–there's always these two other men here with you.”
You felt Matt immediately stiffen against you, his body going rigid as his arms firmly held you to himself. But he remained silent, waiting for you to continue. 
“They have guns,” you whispered, a tremor in your voice as wetness dampened your closed lashes. “And you're–you're beaten and covered in blood when I show up. Unable to even fight back, not even in your suit. Then you always tell me to run but I–” 
Your words broke off as you shook your head firmly against his chest. The thought of just leaving him there to die, even in your dreams, was too painful to even imagine. Your heart squirmed in your chest at the very idea of it. And the pain and fear written on his face each time he realizes you won’t leave, knowing what that means for you, only has your heart feeling like it's being crushed in your chest even now.
“I can't–I can't just leave you like that,” you choke out. “But there's nothing I can actually do to help, either.” A sob escaped you, briefly cutting you off before your next words fly out in a rush. “Because all I have is a fucking useless can of pepper spray to fend them off with. Nothing more.”
Matt's hands immediately began to rub soothing patterns along your back, his mouth lowering beside your ear. “Hey, shh, it's okay,” he whispered. “It's okay, it was just a bad dream, that's all.”
You shook your head, tears still pouring down your cheeks. “I know, but it still has me scared, Matt,” you whispered. “Scared of something happening.”
Something like a defeated sigh mixed with a pained groan fell out of him, his mouth still beside your ear. You could feel your chest constrict at the terribly sad noise alone. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me. Because I fucked up all those months ago,” he told you, guilt coating his words. “Because I fucked up and your connection to me–to Daredevil–was discovered. And you were hurt because of me. And now–now you’re terrified of it happening again and it’s–” he paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. “It’s all my fault.”
Before you could even react or respond, his hands were frantically on your face, drawing it away from his chest and turning it up towards his. Even in the dark you could tell there were tears in his eyes. You could hear the emotion in the faint quiver of his voice as he pressed on.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I failed you before,” he earnestly apologized. “But I swear to you, I will never let that happen again. No one will ever hurt you. Not again. I won’t let them. So you don’t have to worry about that. Do you understand? I would tear apart this whole city to keep you safe if I had to.”
The tears only spilled faster from your eyes. Not because of the passion and truth you could hear in his words, but because that wasn't it . That wasn't what was bothering you, not fully. Of course you were afraid of ever encountering a situation again where you ended up in danger or injured–or worse–after what had happened to you before, but what was really bothering you was the danger Matt could find himself in. Or rather, the danger he could find himself in and the fact that you were nothing like him. There was nothing special about you that would help you keep him safe in return. 
You were just…you.
Slowly you shook your head, your eyes still focused on what you could make out of his face in the dark. Very minutely, you saw him tilt his head to the side as if in confusion.
“I know you would, Matty,” you whispered. “But that’s not it.”
“What–what do you mean?” he asked, sounding almost nervous. “What do you mean that’s not it?”
Licking your lips, you tried hard not to feel so incredibly foolish for what you were about to admit. A fear that had been steadily growing in your mind over the past few months.
“I mean, I’m afraid of something happening to you, Matt,” you told him. “That you won’t come home to me some night. Or that you’ll find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of. Or someone will break into our apartment and hurt you. Because what could I do? What could I possibly do to help you? I don’t have special abilities and I can’t even fight. I know basic self-defense, Matt.” You grimaced, as you admitted, “I’m useless. Weak.”
“What?” Matt asked in shock. “Sweetheart, no. You’re not useless, not at all. But you don’t need to have any abilities and you don’t need to be able to fight off the bad guys. That isn’t something you ever need to be concerned with.” His hands slid up from where they’d been resting on your back, firmly grasping your shoulders as he lowered his face towards yours. “I don’t want you to be concerned with that. Because I can take care of myself. It’s not your responsibility to look after me or protect me, alright? I’ll be fine.”
You shook your head, tears still stinging at your eyes. “You can’t promise that, Matt.”
“Okay, no, you’re right,” he amended. “I can’t exactly promise that, but you know I will always do everything in my power to make it back home to you every night. You know I’ve stopped pushing myself too hard and too far because I love you. Because I don’t want you to worry about me. So you don’t need to worry. I know my limits.”
Matt wrapped his arms around your shoulders again, pulling you back into himself in a crushingly tight embrace. You sniffled, once again burying your face back into his bare skin in search of comfort as your fingers dug into his back, holding him tight. Matt’s lips placed a handful of kisses onto the top of your head before he buried his face into your hair.
“It’s my job to look out for you, not the other way around,” he whispered. “Okay? Leave the worrying of that to me.”
Eyes falling closed, you tried hard to fight the tears threatening to spill forth once again. Instead, you tried to focus on the comforting scent of him, your teeth biting into your lower lip to keep it from trembling. 
“Okay,” you breathed out.
“Okay,” he replied, relief in his tone. “Okay, good. Because I’ll keep us both safe. Alright?”
Biting down harder on your bottom lip, all you could manage was a nod in response. But as Matt cradled you in his arms, your own wrapped around him in a desperate vice, you could still see that image of him battered and bloodied in your mind. It lingered there, haunting you.
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sansaorgana · 2 months
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Hi, I sent in the ask about smut? I was thinking about one where Gale is just so gentle during sex, holding you close and making sure you're okay? I just think he'd be so sweet
hello! 🌷 thank you for the request 👀 I'm a bit rusty with writing smut but I tried my best 😅 Buck and reader are married here and he's back from the war 🥰
btw Viola I'm sorry for using your gif for this 😂 I love you 😘
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
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You missed him so badly all those lonely nights when you blasphemously dreamt of his big hands roaming all over your feverish body, right after praying for his safety. As soon as the prayer ended, the fever started and no amount of pacing around, sipping water from the glass by the bed or reading books could help. It was a fire that only Buck could put out. You slept with the window slightly opened even during winter, writhing and sweating under the covers, whispering his name like it was another prayer. Touching yourself but it was never enough. How could it be?
And now you had him back in your arms and you were paralyzed underneath his body like you forgot how to do anything. It had been some time, of course, but you dreamt of this every night. Yet, there was no power in you to take over and show him how much you had missed him. You just wanted to lay down and savour every moment he spent on pleasing you.
"Baby, we don't have to do it tonight," Gale whispered and you furrowed your brows.
"What do you mean?" you asked and caressed the back of his head. "Are you tired, honey?"
"No, I mean… You seem to be absent," he noticed as his bright eyes searched through your face, worryingly. God, he was so beautiful with his cheek scratched and full lips slightly parted, a golden strand of hair falling down nonchalantly over his forehead. You couldn't believe he was yours and only yours.
"I want it, I just… I missed you so much, Buck. And now you're here with me, you're back, safe and sound, you're back for good and I… It's overwhelming," you confessed, avoiding his gaze.
"Oh, sweetheart," he cooed to you as his big, warm hands worked on pushing your nightgown up, slowly, tickling your skin with his fingertips and causing the goosebumps to appear on your arms. You moaned softly and he brought his lips to yours to give you a big kiss on the lips. "I missed you, too, doll. Every day and every night. You were always on my mind," he confessed in hasty whispers between the passionate kisses.
"I can't believe you've been a good boy, Buck," you giggled but he stopped immediately and cupped your face to make you look at him. His expression was dead serious. "Hey, it was a joke, baby," you explained.
"Don't make jokes like that, (Y/N). I didn't go there to have fun. I left fun here," he looked down at your body and then went back to your eyes. "It was my duty what I did there. I served my country to keep you safe."
"I know," you whispered softly. "Buck, I'm sorry. I know," you nodded and he nodded back before pressing his forehead to yours and going back to kissing you. You got lost in his taste and his sweet breath as you tangled your hands in his golden hair and pulled on it slightly.
Gale helped you to get out of your nightgown and placed lots of small kisses all over your jaw and neck, making you melt whenever he sucked on some sweet spot that would make you see stars. His fingers reached down to pull your panties and rub circles where you needed him the most. He smirked at how wet you already were for him.
"Well, well, well, Mrs. Cleven," he teased and you gasped at the sound of your surname coming out of his mouth in that deep voice of his. You had married shortly before he left so you weren't used to being called that. Not by him. "Is everything alright?" he furrowed his brows.
"I'm fine, sir," you smiled at him and he chuckled as his long fingers finally found their way inside you, curling and rubbing you vigorously. You arched your back at that sensation. It wasn't the real thing yet but it was already much better than what you had to live with until now. It was his very real touch, scratching the feverish itch deep inside that had been making you so frustrated for the past few months. It was like the wedding night all over again. "I'm so happy you're back with me," you whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
"And I'm happy to be back," he leaned in to kiss you all over your face as his fingers explored you gently, taking their time. His warm, muscular chest was pressed to yours and he watched carefully your facial expressions. Each time you winced or whined, he would slow down or stop completely, but at the same time he was getting drunk on your reactions and sweet moans.
"I'm gonna…" you closed your eyes, chasing the high you almost reached.
"No, doll, not yet," Buck stopped and you whined. He took his fingers out of you, leaving you with the painful feeling of emptiness. Instead, he took your panties off completely and got rid of his boxer shorts as well. He was more than ready for you now and you swallowed thickly at the sight.
It had been some time since the last one. And even then, you hadn't been married for long. You didn't get used to that fully yet.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I got you," he whispered as he put one of his hands under your back to pull you even closer to his chest. You felt his heart beating and his breath on your neck. Your legs opened wider to take him in.
"Mrs. Cleven?" he asked just to be sure. You only let out a nod in response. "Use your words, darling."
"Go on, Mr. Cleven," you crossed your legs behind his back and felt him slowly sliding inside. You throbbed around him, feeling every inch of him stretching you out in the most delicious way. Despite the pain, it was making you see stars from all the pleasure and the fulfillment.
Inch by inch, slowly, soon enough he was all the way in and gave you a moment to adjust to his size. In the meantime, Buck kissed away all the tears that showed up in the corners of your eyes from how overwhelming it felt.
"You're such a good, brave girl, you know that?" he asked and you nodded before kissing him and bucking your hips a little to let him know you were ready for him to thrust inside of you. His hips started to rock, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan out his name over and over again. You were almost out of your breath and completely out of your mind to finally have him like that.
Buck held one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours before bringing it up to his mouth to place tiny kisses upon your knuckles.
"I love you," he whispered and you wanted to tell him the same thing badly, but you couldn't. You couldn't say anything else except for his name that you kept saying over and over like a prayer.
"Buck… Buck… Buck…" you let go of his hand and grabbed his bicep to squeeze it and scratch it as you felt the overwhelming waves of pleasure growing inside of you.
"I know, doll," he shushed you and picked up the pace, still holding you close but making sure your bed squeaked as the frame began to hit on the wall gently. The sound alone mixed with your gasps and moans was enough to drive him crazy but he wanted to make you finish first. "Let go for me, baby," he breathed out, watching in awe all of your facial expressions; your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your toes curled and your lips parting lustfully.
"I'm gonna, oh, Buck…" was all you were able to said before exploding around him and getting lost in the pleasure. A few shivers went down your body as you squeezed him and he began to thrust even faster to finish as well. Not long after you felt your insides getting warm and sticky as Buck's sweaty face was inches away from yours. You put your hands behind his head and brought him down for a wet, sloppy kiss.
"Oh, baby," you smiled softly. "It feels so good to have you back."
"Damn it does," he chuckled and kissed your forehead as you giggled. "I'm gonna stay like that for a while, is that alright?"
"Yes, sir," you bit on your lower lip as your right hand started to draw circles upon his chest above you.
Suddenly, the lovely moment was spoiled by the sound of loud barking coming from the downstairs. You rolled your eyes and chuckled.
"Sorry, it's Meatball. I don't think he likes being down there all alone, you know?" Buck explained.
"So, we're gonna let him sleep in our bed?" you asked, unsurely. You didn't mind your husband bringing a whole huge dog from the war but you weren't sure about it invading your personal space so much.
"Might be a good practice," Buck kissed your forehead and finally got out of you and the bed to put his boxer shorts back on. You covered yourself with a blanket and watched him with a soft smile.
"Practice?" you asked, teasingly.
"Before we have babies of our own, Mrs. Cleven," he winked at you and went down to get Meatball. You giggled like a schoolgirl at that as you felt your cheeks heating up.
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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