#i got the inspiration for the little picture when you sent the ask but wanted to experiment a bit with my style

[86-babyy]

Undeniable.

Part two - Insatiable.

Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader.

He’s your Dad’s best friend but when temptation comes to strong, you just couldn’t turn away.

This fic is inspired by the amazing edits of @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, which make me absolutely feral. 🫠 (pictures used in header created by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

Warnings: There’s a age gap. Reader is 20, Eddie is in his 30s. Fingering. Choking. Size kink, maybe? (Eddie is big.) Dirty Talk. Eddie is tattooed to the max. Teasing, a lot of smutty goodness. Dirty thoughts and easy temptations, it’s just filthy, babes. 😘 (let me know if I missed anything)

It started small.

Like a ever present dip that strung low in your stomach, it’s soft, subtle and you almost always missed it. The creep of warmth that prickled the tips of your toes, made your chest bubble like tiny explosions weaving through your bloodstream, left you feeling slightly left of centre with no real reasoning.

It was small, dismissive and evidently so fucking obvious.

You weren’t sixteen, freshly twenty, straight out of your adolescence but you were anything but naive. You knew by the second time the feeling had woven it’s way through your hormones like stitching, pulling, twisting, tightening the thread that lead directly to your cunt— that this was every bit of what you knew it was.

It was wrong. Instinctively and morally, it was everything bad, dangerous and wrong in the world to fragile to even think about— to impulsive, playful, thoughts of sin and lust, desire and temptation— It was fucking carnage and you wanted to dip your fingers, smooth the rough edges like rippled water, you wanted to ravish and explore— let the filth cover your skin like dirt and regret.

You wanted to devour, tempt and play with him.

You could take it. That was no hesitation. Everything he could dish out, you would lick clean and ask for more.

“Hey! Look, I got to go, alright?”

The hand waving across your line of vision breaks the border between your subconscious and draws you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. It’s fine, I’ll see you when you get home.”

He shuffles the jacket over his shoulder, the puff slowly dissipates when he zips it all the way up, a concerning smile plays his lips before stuffing the keys into the side pocket and hoisting his bag on his shoulder.

“Try to be good. It’s a late one, don’t think I’ll be back until morning, 6am at best.”

There’s a slight wince in his expression, it falls and tugs his frame along with it, the weight shifting his stance when outstretched arms pull you in.

“It’s fine, Dad. I have a whole night planned, full of pizza and shitty movies.”

You run little circles at the middle of his back, the thick jacket restrains most of your touch but he gestures with a smile in response regardless, he huffs a laugh, nods and heads for the front door.

You genuinely felt fucking terrible most days, your Dad loved what he did, strived for the best in all aspects of his career and it was truly admirable but sometimes when the days would turn to weeks and the nights would stretch longer and longer, he felt guilty, leaving you for so long, though every reassurance you noted towards him felt like it fell on deaf ears you tried none the less.

Except this time, you weren’t alone.

The gentle hum of water swam through the pipes and trickled like notes through the wall, no, you definitely weren’t alone.

The occupied upstairs bathroom was proof of that, housed by one Eddie Munson.

It was like a cruel twist of fate that landed him on your doorstep, like a perfectly timed occurrence when your Dad mentioned that Eddie was in town and would be staying over the weekend.

You had met Eddie before, many times before, see Eddie was your dads best friend. Childhood friends, in-fact.

The pipes creaked, shuttered to a holt when the water turned off. It was like a alarm that vibrated the walls, sent signals telling you to vacate before he came downstairs, telling you to hide. Four minutes. That’s exactly how long it took for you to take the gap between Eddie leaving the bathroom and going back to his room. You stumbled upstairs, each step seemingly drifting further apart with each stride until you hit the top, feet planted and making a line straight to your bedroom. It sounded good, planned perfect, down to each second until you collided with something that held resemblance to a brick wall, knocking you clean from your feet.

The patches of water residue seeps through the fabric of your shirt, bleeds and stains your skin underneath but the searing heat that bares the curve of your waist sticks like molten from the hold as Eddie bares your weight, keeping you grounded, keeps you from falling.

You feel the muscle pinch, flex beneath your palm, the water soaking between skin, seeps from one pore to other beneath your hand.

It’s soft reels of time, like everything is in slow motion, your eyes rake over the sparse of dewy skin coated in a sheen of water, drops leaving tracks as they follow the contours of definition, the inky black images show so much more refine up close, each placed line and shading painted, stained, perfectly across his chest.

Curls cling to the dip in his shoulders, wet ends create a pool in divots of his collar bone, strands of black glisten from the recent action— everything is so wet.

It’s a sickly wet that drys way to quick, beads mirror your face in tiny droplets painted across canvas that you want to reach forward and taste— the border between water and salt, the cool on your tongue mixed with the taste of him.

“Sorry, I uh, are you okay?”

The wind catches in your throat, sucks any air and words along with it when you finally land in his line of sight— deep, dark eyes fluttered beneath eyelashes that study you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

It’s a pathetic response, it’s all breath with no voice and it makes you want to sink further than you already were.

“Maybe, I should—“

In a instant Eddie let’s go. Hovers slightly to make sure you have your footing but removes himself completely, from touch, from space, stepping backwards. The loss of contact winds you without the actual impact, makes you want to run, makes you want to stay more.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s apology is quiet, knowing.

“No, please. It was my fault.”

You pull a semblance of a laugh, a dry attempt at trying to lighten the strain that had set in the air. Eddie bites back with a smile, it’s lop sided and it quirks his lips to dimple the hollow of his cheeks.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You can’t help it. You smile. It’s small and shy, makes you dip your head to hide the growing heat that burns to the tips of your ears.

“I was just about to clean up, make a pizza, want to join?”

His voice is thick, syrupy like honey but dark like malt, it bares rough in the back of his throat but cheery none the less. You sense the hope in his words, a strained branch in offering to deescalate the situation so you nod.

“Yeah, would love too.”

The painted skull on his throat bobs along with his adams apple when he smiles, reaches behind him and opens the door and you’re quick to take the message, heading back downstairs.

It’s a mess. The whole kitchen is laid out in flour and dough, ingredients spread across the island, once were in bowls, now a muddled mess of vegetables. Eddie’s got a ball of dough, fingers and knuckles need the springy texture to a mould and he’s helplessly coated in the powdery substance. It clings all the way up to his elbows and flecks decorate his hair.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Eddie side eyes you, the gleam reflects off the light and back into you but you can’t help it. You both look a absolute mess.

“Can you blame me? You said you were good at this.���

“Hey, I am. We got dough right?”

“Yeah, and so does the kitchen floor.”

There’s a drop in his expression, a pouty look before he dips his fingers, finds were the flour has collected most and smears your cheek. The white powder blends with your laughter, to slow to avoid his actions, instead you mimic.

Fingers dip into the bag of flour, you watch Eddie hesitantly step backwards, eyes squinted in a daring gaze before you leap forward, your hand smearing white across his shirt, the trail of your hand print perfectly centred on his chest. The walls bounce with laughter, rebound and echo with squeals when Eddie comes for you. You dip and weave managing to duck under his arm before twisting on your heel and feeling the collision of your back into the counter, but that wasn’t what caught you off guard.

Somewhere between the push and pull, Eddie had reached across mid duck and when you came back up, cashing in to the counter, Eddie had caught your throat.

It was a obvious mistake, a miss of direction when you twisted the other way but the evident pressure was unmistakable. You whined, a needy gasp that slipped way to quick before you could even try to swallow it back down, the flush of your cheeks burn through the rapid of your heart rate and you lean forward. Against all better fucking judgement, you chase the feeling, you lose yourself in the hallow of boring eyes that look back at you, to far gone in the abyss— Your mind swept in a fog, dragged by your ankles and left you looking from the outside in.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Eddie moves quick, takes three steps backwards, hands raised like a wounded soldier.

“No, no. You’re okay.”

It’s breathy and loose, you mask a laugh behind in desperation to carry the banter, not make it awkward, though you very clearly already had.

He laughs but it’s weak, cautious and when he turns to finish working out the discarded dough, you don’t miss the slight tremor to his movements, the way he swallows thick.

“So, how have you been?”

You pick the vegetables, try to place them back in their respective bowls, busy hands keeps your tone light— Friendly.

“Ah, you know, here there and everywhere. Can never seem to keep my feet planted long enough to enjoy much.”

“Maybe you should settle here. You always seem to drift back.”

You catch him wince slightly and realise maybe it had come across more bitter than intended. You knew Eddie hated it here, ever since high school, or so your dad says.

“I’m sorry, I mean, you just seem—“

“No.” He laughs. “You’re right. It’s like I can’t keep away.”

There’s a playful hint in his smile when hooded eyes glance your way, just for a second. It settles deep in your stomach, the churn that pulls and tightens.

“It’s okay, if you ask me, the town is cursed.”

He laughs at this, it’s deep and throaty when he nudges your shoulder, reaches across and offers the jar of sauce.

“I think you’re on to something there. So, what’s kept you?”

You reach across to spread the sauce on the dough, watching the red seep and blend with the stark white, Eddie steps back, lets you manoeuvre in front of him to reach the sides.

“Dads wanting me to move to collage.”

You hum in response, evening the sauce into the sides, dipping into places you missed.

“And what do you want to do?”

It rumbles like a distant thunderstorm, his breath seeps across your neck from behind you, the warmth pricks bumps along your skin. The slight brush of his chest makes contact with your back, sends your mind deeper into oblivion.

“I, uh, I don’t know yet. Maybe travel.”

“Here.”

Eddie reaches around, leans into you as he guides your hand in smooth circles.

“It’s easier if you cover the whole area in one motion, the sauce will spread more easily.”

His chest moves in perfect waves as he breaths, the pressure pressing into your back with each inhale and it only sends yours into unease. Each lined breath comes short and uneven, it’s a wall that’s compressed against your rib cage, shrinks with every small move, slowly suffocating.

You nod back, willing yourself to pull some kind of composure but when his hand holds yours steady against the wavier of motion, just the view of his hand engulfing yours, sends your hormones in active overdrive.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

It’s over. Your heart shutters to a complete skip, missing several beats as your pussy throbs. It’s a dull ache that nips painfully and if you don’t find a way out now, you weren’t going to be able to stop.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s now leaning over you, his hair fans your shoulders, the angle of his words ring like a perfectly chimed bell through your ears as he runs a pad of his thumb over your knuckles— The task of spreading sauce long forgotten.

You instinctively lean into his touch, your throat catches on dry air, leaving a strangled groan to brush your lips. If it weren’t for Eddie keeping your hand so stable, you’d be a complete fucking wreck.

“Am I reading this wrong?”

No, god no.

“Eddie..”

“Just say the word, I’ll back off.”

No, please. Don’t.

“I don’t—“

“We’ll forget it ever happened. Go back to normal.”

But, I want it too happen.

“No, please. Eddie.”

Your hips sink backwards, finds the dip between his thighs and you grind, it’s slow and pitiful, pulls the most needy whine from your lips. Breath is sucker punched from the hollow of your chest, a tension snapped after it had been so far strung out and the gasp that hinders in your throat when Eddie pushes back has all reason bailed and running for the door.

“Fuck.”

The spoon is long discarded and Eddie’s now got both palm’s following the contour of your waist, his fingers dip in to the curve of your frame, touching and teasing the exposed skin.

It’s a helpless battle of push and pull, your heads rolled so far back it now sits in the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, while his hands play puppet along the underside of your breasts— curious palms test the water, squeeze the soft skin underneath, lengthy fingers creep to come full circle and caress you. The warmth spreads like wildfire through your veins, the pinch of fingers as he toys with your nipples has your mouth gapped and hiccuping gasps of air, it all feels like fire and ice and it makes you strain harder— Your hips arching painfully back in search of friction as his ever present bulge presses harder back, looking for one of the same.

“Jesus Christ.. Fuck.”

Eddie groans into the sparse of your throat, the mumbled words pressed into flesh when he moans around the soft of your throat. Teeth graze, pinch, bite. Sink so deep that the skin threatens to break, it’s a purple stain that bleeds instead.

“Fuck, Eddie. Please.”

It’s a complete fucking disarray when Eddie takes hold of your waist, fingertips bruise when he spins you around and hooks two palms under the back of your thighs, lifting you up like you were nothing. Your ankles meet at the small of his back, your hands graze the definition of muscle along his arms when they link around his neck. Your ass perfectly cupped in strong hands and you can absolutely feel the mess created between your thighs. It’s soft and wet, humming with pressure that begs for release and when Eddie places you on the opposite counter, needy hands drag you to the edge, it’s a collision of lips and teeth.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A fight for air between heated kisses, Eddie’s forehead rests against yours as his fingers work at unloosing your jeans.

Black eyes bore into yours, it’s a pit of lust and desire, the edges burning with flames when he mutters the sentence, each lingering stare silently asks permission with every pop of button he releases and you simply moan back in response, in approval.

An arm slings around your waist, Eddie hoists you up slightly, enough to get a pull on your jeans and pull he does. The thick material drags down your thighs and gets tossed at his ankles.

Eddie’s taken two steps back, enough room to give way to remove your pants and underwear, now, he’s standing there— All tall and built. He’s not overly muscular, toned, but his presence is big and demanding. In one swift motion, Eddie reaches behind him, grips a handful of material and effortlessly slips it over his shoulders and head, leaves him in low hanging sweats— A curtain of curls follow suit, leaving the strays still damp to cling to the dip of his temples. The display of tattoos is mesmerising, his torso, chest all littered in black and white art, tales of story’s and pictures of moments— It’s absolutely beautiful.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

There’s a dark ring to his tone, it pulls from the back of his throat is a rasp, a growl almost.

You nod your head, all dumb and shy, feels like you’re drunk just from the view.

“Fuck, baby. You can’t do that.”

You whimper, small and needy, watch as his cock twitches beneath his pants.

Eddie does growl this time. It’s predatory and deep, has you white knuckling the edges of the counter when he comes closer. Your whole body is limp on impulse, reacting to the man in front of you. You knew how you must look, all drawn out and needy, not exactly how you expected to play this out but the tables quickly turned when Eddie shown a slight hint of dominance.

“What did I say?”

Eddie’s hand comes to cradle the side of your throat, gentle, holds you there while he nuzzles into the latter side, breathes in the scent. He’s slotted perfectly between your thighs, a puzzle piece meant to be, and his painfully hard bulge presses into where you are most vulnerable.

“You’ll have to remind me. I forgot.”

It’s absolutely dripping in tease, has your confidence spiked and you wanted to test the waters, see how just how far you could sink before you drown.

“Don’t fucking play with me, baby girl.”

“Ah, Eddie!”

Teeth hook into your throat, skin pinches when he releases, slides his hand to cover the front of your throat.

“Mm. A little fight in you, huh?”

The pressure is evident, it’s spreads across your throat where fingers pinch the sides, tips your head back to bring your vision to his and it feels so fucking good. Your body tingles all over, feels like there’s a flood baring through your bloodstream, making everything heightened— sensitive.

Even if you wanted to fight back, you couldn’t. The palm encasing your throat kept its firm hold and the desperate whine that leaves your lips was anything but expected when you felt Eddie’s latter hand smooth up your thigh. It’s a trail that burns, leaves behind a tingling sensation that scorns your skin. Eddie’s fingertips graze the slit of your lips, teases the sensitive flesh and when the pad of his thumb rolls over your clit, so do your eyes, falling helplessly into your head as the wave of euphoria blankets your senses.

“Na uh, baby, look at me.”

Eddie’s fingers dip into your entrance, your slick making it to easy while his thumb stays steady circling your clit. The intrusion has the walls of your pussy fluttering, they clench around the thickness of his fingers, drawing them in to the knuckles.

Your head falls forward, caught by his grip as hooded eyes strain to focus on the man in front of you.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

His eyes swallow you whole, pull you in head first and you had no plans on stopping it. Eddie’s fingers find a pace, pumping in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit. Your entire body trembles from the high, your senses so far on alert that it has you internally screaming. Your stomach washes in waves, the draw of pleasure been brought to the surface, you can feel the bubble, the drop.

“Oh god, Eddie.”

The curl of his fingers has you tipping over the edge, your pussy fights with every draw of his fingers, the heated pressure against your throat sends you further. It’s all a collision of white heat and pleasure, has you babbling and moaning complete chaos.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. I’m going to—“

“Eyes on me, baby. I want to watch you.”

The second your vision locks with his, you’re brought down in crashing waves. Your pussy contracts, leaves your thighs shaking. It’s intense and hard, the release rushes through your system in a whirlwind, boils your blood and leaves your head in a blissed out fog.

Eddie removes his hand from around your throat then his fingers, slowly. Let’s the ride of your orgasm slow before placing the two finger’s between plush lips. His tongue darts out, swirls and sucks the evidence of your cum from his fingers. It’s a fucking sight to see, dark eyes follow your motion before he releases with a soft pop.

You absolutely should be completely fucked out, your body heavy is evidence of it but the need still claws in the pit of your stomach, the hunger that bleeds and screams for more.

You reach out and pull Eddie back in, your ass slipping further to the edge from the slick created when your mouths meet in a tangled mess of lips and breath. You wanted to feel him, taste him. You wanted to explore and trace and Jesus Christ, you just couldn’t get enough. Your hands weave in a knot in his hair, groans vibrate through his chest at the action as you abandon one hand to reach between you both. Finding the hardness that hid beneath his pants, eager hands work through to slip between the barrier of material and skin.

“Ah, Jesus. Oh fuck.”

Eddie moans against your lips and you smile in response. Your hand sinks and wraps around his length, your palm working in slow strokes, doing what you could with how much you had to work with. Eddie was big. Thick and lengthy. You’d be lucky if your fingers could touch around the girth and as Eddie fucks up into your hand, you realise just how much bigger he was.

“Jesus Eddie.”

You hadn’t really need to say it, Eddie knew.

You break from the kiss, slip your other hand out from his hair and tug the left side of his pants down. Eddie chuckles, helps the process by pushing the remainder down, his cock still grasped in your hold and fuck where you right.

Eddie wraps a hand around yours, uses the other to hook a finger under your chin and dips his head into your line of vision.

“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?”

There’s humour in his tone. Your eyes are blown out when you nod, smile. Spreading your legs wider with invitation.

Eddie places both hands to cup your face, presses forward and you feel the gentle nudge of his cock spread your pussy. It slips perfectly, your slick making easy way when he breaks the head in. The stretch burns, it’s subtle but there and when he inches further your throat breaks out in a pitiful cry.

“You’re doing good, baby.”

Eddie’s forehead rests against yours, his gaze holds yours in reassurance when he presses further. It’s unmistakable the width that your pussy is being stretched, its a mix of pain and euphoria, leaving behind the most delicious throb.

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

“Oh, Eddie. Fuck.”

Eddie’s thumbs run the pad of your cheeks when he bottoms out, you whimper against the movement, the pain easing from discomfort to pleasure and it courses through your system like a new high all over again.

Eddie draws out and thrusts back in, his rhythm is steady, slow. Each drag pulls new waves, each one has you moaning for more. The pleasure undeniable, it brings forwards a hunger that seemed to be starved, a pulsating heat that hooks your arms around his neck and has Eddie’s palms resting on your thighs, spreading you further. It’s absolutely filthy the image in front of you. You watch Eddie’s cock disappear in the hollow of your pussy between your legs, fingerprints stain your thighs as Eddie picks up the pace, his hips crashing against yours in a wet collision.

“Jesus H Christ, you’re so tight.”

Eddie’s tattoos flex along with his thrusts, the pictures and words dance across his skin, the black ink shining with sweat.

“Fuck, oh my god.”

“Ah, right there, oh fuck.”

Eddie’s railing you with relentless force, it’s a sticky wet fucking mess, echos of skin and moans bounce around you and his cock feels so fucking good. Your chest hammers against your rib cage, air seems to be long gone with every thrust. His curls stick to the creases of his forehead, his eyes watching you intently, almost possessive.

Your hands weave into the back of his hair and settle just at the nape, knuckles knot around the curls and you pull, Eddie’s head jars back momentarily and when he comes back to eye level there’s a flare of desire that bares straight to your centre, ignites a wildfire.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Eddie grits out between teeth, the rumble in his tone matches the harsh imprints his hands leave upon your thighs, blunt nails scarring the skin.

“Show me, god, please.”

It’s down right fucking pornographic the moan Eddie emits, he wraps his arms around your waist and without falter, without removing himself he lifts you from the counter and lays you out on the floor beneath.

Before you even tried to protest, Eddie has your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees press to your chest as he fucks into you. It’s deeper, the thrust of his cock hits the soft of your pussy and has you throwing your head back, even the contact with the harsh floor doesn’t register— Just Eddie’s cock sending you into complete fucking meltdown.

“Like this. M’ want you spread wide fucking open.”

He’s not shy, he pounds away with force and perfect precision, dips his head into the curve of your neck and his moans are like the perfect melody, ringing loud and hard.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. Jesus.”

“Let go, baby. Let me fucking feel you.”

Your stomach churns, the warmth bubbling with one last thrust into your soft spot and it has you clenched tight around his cock. Your orgasm baring down like a earthquake, leaving your thighs trembling and your body fucked out.

“Fuck, good girl, you feel so fucking good.”

Your pussy is soaking, Eddie fucks your orgasm right to the very edge, coats his along too. His thrusts wavier, you feel his cock swell and you reach out, grip his waist and urge him deeper.

“Shit, fuck, I’m going to cum baby.”

His eyes search yours in a hasty need, searching, asking.

“I’m covered, fill me up Eddie, please.”

It’s bares more a whine than a moan, the desperation drawn on every word.

“Holy fuck.”

You feel the hot substance coat the inside of your pussy, Eddie’s release seeping into the most intimate parts and it’s has you on cloud fucking nine.

Eddie sinks above you, his weight rests lightly above yours, the air is thick and humid, filled with heavy pants for air and raspy ends of lingering moans. Eddie rolls over, loops an arm and takes you with him, curled up beside him, tangled in arms and legs and it’s absolute bliss.

Eddie chuckles softly, nudges into the crook of your neck.

“Well, fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fics #eddie munson smut #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

[actuallysaiyan]

I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part I)

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, office relationship, mommy and daddy relationship

word count: 1.1k

pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Sorcerer!Reader

summary: as you're lost in thought about your life as a sorcerer and teacher at Jujutsu High, your work husband comes by to surprise you with lunch. and he suggests going to that little pub you enjoy for dinner...only to have Itadori-kun ask such a shameless question

a/n: This is very much inspired by the thirst and fic that @carnal-lnstinct sent in and wrote! I didn't think this would be a multiple part fic, but here we are! I hope to update this little story regularly.

Part two!

Your mind is clouded as you sit at your desk, paperwork forgotten in front of you. Despite the fact that you’ve settled in well at Jujutsu High, you were wondering where this position may lead you. You were wondering if things would evolve into something more than this. Life as a Jujutsu sorcerer was tough enough as it is, but someone was always there to make you feel more at ease.

It started small too, just him being kind to you behind those stoic glances and authoritative words. You were beginning to tear down those walls and see the true Kento underneath it all. And all this because you had proclaimed he was your work husband. It wasn’t something he truly loved to hear at first, but as you continued to treat him kindly, Kento was beginning to love the special treatment.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at your office door and you look up to see the man in question. He’s got a paper bag full of food for lunch and there is a tiny grin on his face as he sees you. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s playing into this role more than you ever expected him to. You beckon him closer and he sits down on the chair that faces yours. The bag is placed on your desk and your stomach growls the moment you can smell the many scents of spices.

“I got your favorite, honey.” Nanami loves calling you pet names, but it’s always with that teasing tone.

“Awh I should have known my sweetheart would know just what to perk me up.”

He pulls out the boxes of take-out and hands you a set of disposable chopsticks. Your heart is full of love for a man who you know isn’t actually your husband. But damn, you can’t help but really be in love with him most days. You’d do just about anything for him to slide a beautiful diamond ring on your finger.

The both of you eat comfortably, Nanami inquiring about your day just as a good husband should. You ask about his day, smiling when he mentions Itadori-kun. The first years were so special this year. You knew that Gojo had asked Nanami specifically to take care of the young pink-haired teen, but when you saw just how much Nanami took the young man under his wing, you could tell that there was a strong bond forming there.

“So our little boy is doing well,” you tease the blond man in front of you. 

Nanami blushes slightly but keeps his composure, “Itadori-kun shows promise. Despite the brash way he charges into battle, he is a kindhearted young man.”

Just those words paint such a beautiful picture. You can’t help but fantasize about family movie nights with Itadori coming over and snuggling between you and your husband. You coo softly at the way Nanami is describing the young sorcerer.

You finish up your meal, thanking the blond sorcerer in front of you. Nanami smiles, and this one is a genuine smile. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hear you thanking him for dinner as well. He was planning on asking you out, strictly as co-workers of course. He doesn’t want you finding out about the feelings that are building so deeply inside of him. If it were up to him, he would have married you quite some time ago.

“I’ve got this paperwork to finish up, then I’m training Kugisaki-san.” You explain to Nanami, and you watch as he wipes his hands on the wet wipe provided by the take-out place.

“I’ve got to get back to training as well with Itadori-kun.”

There’s a silence that falls between you both. Your heart is racing in this moment. You just want to jump over this desk and pin him to the ground. You want to press kisses all over his beautifully chiseled face until there’s red lipstick prints everywhere. But you do no such thing. The two of you exchange a smile and a glance, and it’s almost the kind that suggests you’re both part of an inside joke that the whole world is excluded from.

“How about after work we head to our favorite pub for dinner?” Nanami suggests, praying his tone isn’t too hopeful.

You smile, “That sounds nice. It would be good to get out. It’s been a little bit since we’ve been out.”

He nods, “Yes, I was just thinking that.”

The two of you get up, and Nanami throws the trash from your lunch into the garbage can that’s next to your desk. As you come around the desk, he wishes he could just take your hand in his and walk you outside to the training ground. Instead you both walk side by side and chat lightly about work. 

It’s a mundane feeling for the both of you, but it isn’t boring. It’s sweet and domestic, and everyone knows that you two are pretty much attached at the hip. But yet there always seems to be something keeping you held back from actually making this work relationship into a real one.

You spot Itadori and Kugisaki awaiting the two of you, the pair seem to be gossiping. You always loved the way those two had grown so close, and yet…you wondered if maybe they had something similar going on that mirrored your own relationship with Nanami. You looked at Kento, smirking playfully.

“You sure you won’t be too tired to take your poor wife out to dinner tonight?” You practically purr in his ear.

Nanami shudders, “Please, have a bit more faith in your sweetheart, dear.”

Just the sound of his voice calling you dear has you wondering if you should just confess right here and right now. You want to tell him how badly you have fallen head over heels for him, but you also wonder if that’s just not the right choice. You look at him once more, and you lean in the smooth the collar of his shirt and the lapels of his jacket. His heart skips a beat when you’re this close to him.

“Well, I suppose I have faith in an old man like you.” You rib him, laughing at his reaction.

“You’re three months older than me.” He says, a smirk spreading on his face.

You groan, “Please, don’t remind me.”

You two begin walking over to the first years you’re responsible for. With a final promise to go out for dinner, you part ways. It’s only then you hear Itadori asking your work husband.

“Nanamin, are you sure you and her aren’t actually married?”

#bacon.writes #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #Nanami Kento x you #Nanami Kento x reader #Nanami Kento x y/n #nanami x y/n #work husband!nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #Nanami Kento fluff #Nanami Kento imagines #Kento Nanami x reader #Kento Nanami x you #Kento Nanami x y/n

[moralesluvr]

high maintenance gf x earth 42 miles and how he would literally spoil her sm!! and everytime she gets her hair, nails, etc done he always wants to see them #SoCute🤭

take care of my woman ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: your boyfriend loves keeping his girl spoiled and happy, and he especially loves to see what he does for you ♡ warnings: one swear! just sum' good ole fluff ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! we love the softie side of mr morales ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

MILES MORALES DEFINITELY SPOILS YOU. Every chance he can get, he's finding reasons to provide for his girl or finding ways and outlets to get you what you want. On this particular day, you were sitting in a hairstylist's chair after Miles caught you scrolling through different hairstyles on your Pinterest feed.

"You want that one, hermosa?" He had asked you earlier when he saw you save a picture of some goddess braids to your hair inspiration board. You didn't even bother to lie and say no, because you knew he could tell if you were lying, so you just nodded and watched as he sent you three hundred dollars to go and get your hair done. As you stood up and got ready to go, he came up to you and pulled his car keys out his pocket, "Take my whip. I'll see you later, okay? Love you."

Grinning at him, you had kissed him and left his house to go to your favorite hairstylist, Monica, who has never done you dirty in the years she's been doing your hair. You were sitting comfortably in her chair, catching up on the latest neighborhood gossip as your phone charged next to her hair station. She heard it buzz and she tapped your shoulder, "Girl, your man is texting you."

"Hand me the phone, please." You requested, the device getting placed into your palm as you felt Monica start on your next braid. You swiped your phone open and clicked on your boyfriend's text.

from [mi novio <3]: hey amor from [mi novio <3]: what yo hair lookin like? lemme see

You giggled at his message, "Yo, Monica, can you take a picture of the back of my head and send it to Miles?"

Monica snorts, "You do know this big 'ole ponytail ain't finish yet, right? I'm jus' starting the third row."

"Just take it." You urged with a laugh. You heard your stylist snap the picture and click send, and within seconds, your boyfriend was texting you back.

from [mi novio <3]: yikes bae from [mi novio <3]: thats the end product? from [mi novio <3]: u need some more $$ ??

to [mi novio <3]: no u idiot, she ain done yet to [mi novio <3]: i think imma get blonde ends whatchu think?

from [mi novio <3]: get 'em, youll look cute in that

to [mi novio <3]: wait crap i dont have enough money

MI NOVIO <3 HAS SENT YOU $100 DOLLARS.

from [mi novio <3]: here u go ma from [mi novio <3]: txt me when u done from [mi novio <3]: i love u

You grinned at your phone and set it down, slumping back in the chair as you waited for Monica to finish your hair up. You couldn't wait to get home to your boyfriend and show him.

After what seemed like an eternity, your braids were finally finished, dipped, and your scalp had been moussed. You swiped your (more like Miles') card and smiled at Monica, who wished you a good day and slipped a free hair oil in your bag. You made your way outside and quickly drove back to your boyfriend's place, excited to show him your new hairstyles.

You unlocked the door to his crib once you arrived. You saw him sitting on the couch, manspreading with his hands behind his head, watching something on TV that you would probably have little to no interest in. You grinned and squealed when you saw him, plopping down next to him, "Look at my hairrrrr!"

He smiled at you, kissing your cheek, "Lookin' so fine, déjame hacer una foto."

You watch as your boyfriend takes out his phone and takes a picture of your hair, saving it to some folder. You peek over with a smile as you see the name,

my woman and the shit i pay for.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10

#‧₊˚✩ — 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒! #‧₊˚✩ — 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒! #spiderman #spiderman into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles #miles x reader #atsv x reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales fluff #miles morales fluff #miles morales earth 42

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love. 

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important. 

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be? 

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

“You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired. 

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever. 

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me. 

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core. 

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical. 

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away. 

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it! 

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything. 

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat. 

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?” 

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#choso x reader #chosoxreader #choso x fem reader #chosoxfemreader #choso x you #chosoxyou #choso x female reader #chosoxfemalereader #chosoxf!reader #choso x f!reader #choso x fem!reader #chosoxfem!reader #choso x y/n #chosoxy/n #choso fanfic #choso fluff #choso fic #choso smut #chososmut #choso supremacy #choso #choso jjk #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso #kamo choso #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[lives-in-midgard]

Taking Care Of You

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: When Chris finds out that you're sick he wants to be there for you.

Word Count: 1165

Request: I saw requests are open can I ask for a fluff one with Evans and reader is sick and he's there to care for her? It can be hubby/wife and bf/gf or even best friends up to you. Thank you!! [See request here]

A/N: Thank you for sending me this request! I hope you like it! The picture above inspired the parts were they were facetiming.

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

It’s already been two months since your boyfriend Chris Evans left to film his new movie. You missed each other a lot but face timing and texting made it more bearable. Chris tried to call you as often as possible and when he didn’t have time, he sent you a text message. Because he was away filming Chris and you decided that it would be the best if Dodger stayed at your place and when you were at work his brother would look after him.

After picking up Dodger after work, you weren’t feeling well, so you decided to take Dodger for a walk. You thought that it would help when you suddenly sneezed. When you got home you suddenly felt cold and decided to go to bed and watch a movie while cuddling with Dodger. After a while your phone rang and when you looked at it, you started to smile because it was Chris.

“Hey, honey.” He said with a smile.

“Hey, babe.”

“You’re already in bed?” Chris asked a little worried.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to lie down for a while…work was really exhausting today.” You said because you didn’t want to worry him.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard day.” Chris said softly.

“How was your day so far?” You asked and suddenly had to sneeze.

“Bless you, my love.” Chris said and made you blush.

“Well, my day was pretty good. Filming is going great so far.”

“That’s amazing Chris.” You said and sneezed twice and then started to shiver.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”

“It’s probably just a little cold.” You said, trying to smile.

“But please promise to let me know if it gets worse.” Chris told you in a worried tone and you nodded.

“Okay, I promise.” You talked for a while about everything that came to your mind and Chris also told you a lot about his day and his new co-stars.

“I miss you so much and can’t wait to be home with you again.” Chris said after a while.

“I miss you too, babe.” You said and you both said I love you, before saying goodbye because Chris had to go.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt so much sicker than the day before. Now you weren’t only sneezing, but you also started to cough and felt slightly dizzy. You decided that it would be the best if you stayed home and called in sick at work. After calling at work, you called Scott to ask if he could pick up Dodger because you were sick.

Most of the time you stayed in bed all day and only got out of bed to get something to eat. When you were lying in bed again with at least two blankets, you suddenly heard your phone ringing. You started to smile, but it quickly faded because you knew how worried Chris can be sometimes, especially when he is away. But you didn’t want to ignore his call, so you picked up and tried to smile.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You greeted each other and Chris knew immediately that you weren’t feeling well. There was no chance of denial, so you told him how you really felt.

“Oh no, I wish I could be home and take care of you.” Chris mumbled with a sad expression in his eyes.

“Should I come home?” Chris then suddenly asked.

“No, Chris it’s okay… really.” Then you told him that Dodger is staying at his brother’s home because you didn’t feel the energy of going for a walk with him and thought it would be the best. Chris understood that and hoped that you feel better soon. You only talked for a few more minutes because you felt so tired. Chris understood that, but he was also so sad that he couldn’t be there for you. You didn’t sleep very well that night, you woke up a few times because you were either too cold or too warm. You felt a little better in the afternoon than in the morning. Later when Chris called you, he sadly couldn’t facetime, so you could only talk without seeing each other. You talked for a while when you suddenly heard a knock on the front door.

“Wait, someone is at the door, I’ll call you back babe.” You said, wondering who was at the door. You walked to your apartment door, a bit slowly because you were dizzy. When you opened the door, you couldn’t believe who was standing there.

“Chris, what are you doing here?”

“I came here to take care of my girl. I couldn’t stay away from you any longer, especially when I knew that you’re sick.” Chris said as he walked closer to you.

“Oh, Chris thank you.” You said and started to shake.

“Come on honey, let’s get you to bed.” When he noticed that you were getting dizzy, Chris put his hand on your back and guided you to your room. You laid back down in your bed and Chris gently kissed your forehead.

“I’ll go and make you some tea.”

When Chris came back a few minutes later, he placed the cup of tea on your bedside table. You took a few sips and Chris held your back.

“Now let’s cuddle.” Chris said with a smile.

“Are you sure, I don’t want you to get sick.” You asked as Chris already made himself comfortable next to you.

“I’m sure, sweetheart.” You smiled and Chris then wrapped his arms around you. You slept for a while until you felt Chris touching your forehead.

“Sorry that I woke you up honey, but you have a fever.” He said in a soothing voice.

“Oh” You mumbled tiredly, and Chris tucked a hear behind your ear with a worried look on his face.

“Do you have any medicine here?” He asked and you nodded and told him where to find it.

“I’ll get it quick.” Chris said and gave you a smile. After a few minutes he was back with the medicine in his hand.

“Can you sit up for me, sweetheart? Just for a second, so you can take your medicine.” Chris asked and you nodded. Then he helped you to sit up, so your back was leaning against the headboard of the bed. Chris helped you take your medication and then you laid back down.

“Thank you for coming home to me.” You said after you cuddled again.

“I would come home anytime for you.” Chris held you tight and rubbed your back softly.

For the next few days, he took care of you as best as he could. Chris made sure you took your medicine, made you a bath, cooked for you and was there to give you cuddles. A few days later you felt so much better, but Chris still didn’t want to leave you, so he stayed another week to spend some time with his girl.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @rogersbarber | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 | @cutedisneygrl | @buckys-wintersoldier

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris x reader #chris x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans cute #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #steve rogers x reader #marvel cast #chris evans imagine

[waldau]

i don't know anyone who writes wonwoo as perfect as you! you manage to capture his personality so well🥺could i please request a friends to lovers thing for wonu? you've been friends for YEARS and you've had your moments and hidden glances but this one night you're just sitting out and feeling the winter breeze together. he can feel you staring and asks why you're doing that..while you contemplate whether to give in and just confess. you're so overwhelmed with emotions for him but you're also so terrified to tell him bcos you're scared to change the dynamics your relationship has so far.

thank you so much for saying that about my writing, anon :') took me entirely too long but i had a sudden burst of inspiration after seeing the latest gam3 bo1 wonwoo with long hair 😵‍💫 hope you like this! title taken from the english version of crush by seventeen.

hearts in parallel — jeon wonwoo | 2,730 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

wonwoo's standing outside your car in the parking lot of your office. part of you is convinced you're just imagining things, because he's supposed to be in japan. touring. doing idol things. having fun.

every morning you look forward to the pictures he's made a habit of sending whenever he's on tour, whether they're what he had for breakfast, or what a sleeping dokyeom looked like with a moustache drawn on his face. his only motive for doing that has been to convince you to let him take you on a vacation whenever you're free, because he says there's always something you'd enjoy wherever he goes.

it's sweet. it really is. even if you have to keep reminding him that you have your usual 9-5 that's so different from his schedules.

but it is wonwoo, when you focus on the way he's standing against the hood of your car, hands in his pockets as he looks at what you assume is the view of the sun setting in the distance. crazy how he'd sent a picture of it to you just today morning from another country.

suddenly, you fell woefully out-dressed. it's your usual work attire, but wonwoo's got his airport look on, complete with a dashing coat that you've never seen before. maybe he has it on only for today.

"surprise?" wonwoo asks sheepishly, when he catches you staring at him.

you blink once more, just in case. "wonwoo?" you ask, a little uncertain. "aren't you supposed to..."

"tour ended last night," he explains, pushing himself to stand properly. "i texted you afterwards."

you think back to the messages you exchanged last night, but they're a haze at best. all you can currently think of is your calendar you've been crossing things off of for a better part of the day.

any other time, you'd be extremely happy to see wonwoo, but today you don't feel like you can match his energy. "sorry," you murmur, rubbing your face. maybe if you rub it hard enough he'll disappear and you can catch up with him when you're a bit more presentable.

"hey, no," he says, catching your wrist as you pull your hands away. "you look perfectly fine. did i catch you at a wrong time?"

you realize you just said your last sentence out loud. "just tired," you say, proud of yourself at how even your voice is despite the fact that your hand is in his. "i'm glad you're here, though."

wonwoo lets go of your hand. "then is it fine if i drive you home?"

you look at him. he looks pretty serious, and you snort. "did you seriously come here just to drive me home?"

wonwoo nods. "straight from the airport. dropped my stuff home, then took a cab and came here."

no wonder he's still got the airport look on.

"you're a weird man, jeon wonwoo," you say, searching for your keys in your pocket.

"that's probably why we're friends," he deadpans, catching the keys you toss him.

"you should be sleeping," you say, chucking your bag on the backseat. "or resting at home. not being my chauffeur."

"maybe i wanted to be your chauffeur because i'm not sleepy," wonwoo replies, slipping on his seatbelt, waiting for you to do the same before starting your car. "it's been a while since we've hung out together."

that's true, you think. ever since you got this new job, your hours have been filled with work, and even though you're not overly swamped, you've been seeing your friends a bit less frequently than you would have liked. wonwoo included. and wonwoo's also had less time to spend with you, given how the band's been planning more foreign tours in the past year.

so you're glad you're spending time with him, even if you're not at your best.

"who said you don't look good?" wonwoo asks.

you bite your tongue when you realize you've spoken out your thoughts again — it's just a testament to how tired you are, with no filter between your thoughts and words. you shake your head, but wonwoo's not having any of it.

"i came here straight off my flight and i look absolutely dishevelled. you're lucky i don't mind you seeing me like this."

"your so-called dishevelled airport look is just as good as me at my best, so don't even start, okay?"

"yah," wonwoo says, laughing. "i don't appreciate you slandering yourself like that."

"fine, what do you appreciate?"

"you spending some time with me and not worrying about anything else."

blunt, as always. you appreciate it, even if it makes your heart jump a little. and it's not that you're worrying over anything: it's just the sudden nature of wonwoo's appearance that has you a little confused. but you're not complaining.

"by the way," wonwoo says, when you finally pull out onto the main road after leaving all the traffic behind, "i got you something."

"again? wonwoo, i told you i don't need souvenirs from every—"

"this was for your birthday, sweetheart," he says, pausing to pull something out of the pocket of his coat. "i still have your stuff from japan waiting to be unpacked."

"you're a menace, won," you say, hands hesitating to accept the slim box sitting on the dashboard. "i told you i didn't want anything."

"and i told you it'd be a crime if i didn't get you anything. maybe i would've listened to you if you didn't get that insanely expensive camera for me."

you glance at him. "that's—"

"—a completely valid argument," he retorts, reaching for the slim box and putting it in your lap. "i've been waiting to see your reaction ever since i got it."

shaking your head, you make a show of opening it. one thing about wonwoo is that he somehow always knows what to gift others. you could tell him you didn't want anything, and then he'd give you something you didn't even know you wanted.

case in point: there's a dainty silver chain sitting in the box, with the pendant looking very familiar. you take a closer look at it and realize—

"you didn't."

wonwoo has his mischievous grin on. "of course i did."

it's a customized engraving of your cat on the circular coin of metal, a perfect replica down to the little discoloured patch of fur on your cat's face.

you'd complained to wonwoo, once, drunkenly, about this really cute online jewellery store that sold customized necklaces. you'd never been able to find it again despite going through your search history and searching the web extensively.

now that it's sitting in your hands, you can't help but wonder how much time he must have spent tracking it down, finding the perfect picture for the engraving.

"i don't know how to thank you," you say honestly, looking at wonwoo. he still has the smile on his face, looking straight ahead.

"just wear it forever, and you're good."

"oh, emotionally manipulating me? is that how it's going to be?" you ask, tracing the chain with your finger.

"i don't think it's manipulation if it's your cat."

you can't argue with that. you snap the box shut and put it in the pocket of your jeans. "you shouldn't have, won," you say perfunctorily.

wonwoo doesn't respond, simply choosing to switch on the radio.

for once, you're not driving, and you get the chance to appreciate how beautiful the city looks when it's nearing night.

"you hungry?" wonwoo asks, when the car stops at a red light.

you shake your head. "not for a few more hours. you?"

"nope," wonwoo says, flexing his fingers on the wheel. "but tonight's a full moon night, so i was thinking we could go to the riverside and just hang out near the pier? if you're not too tired?"

you think about it. you get to hang out with wonwoo in the moonlight, which will definitely be a sight to behold. the way he's been living rent-free in your mind for a while now is embarrassing, to say the least.

"i don't mind."

you sneak glances at him when he's answers a call from dino asking him if he's free to hang out tomorrow, when he's excited to hear one of his own songs on the radio. he's cute, and the feeling's eating you up from the inside every single time you're with him.

he just looks so...boyfriend. he's let his hair grow out, and black really is his colour. not to mention his glasses which might just be your undoing.

wonwoo parks at a spot not far from the pier.

you get out of the car and immediately get hit by a gust of cool air, and you're really glad wonwoo decided to come pick you up today, because there's no way you would've come here by yourself.

the walkway around the river seems nicer than the last time you were here, bigger and better with more lights and somehow, lesser people. it's exactly what you need right now.

you fall in step alongside wonwoo, comfortably silent as you make your way from the car park, the relative silence amplifying the sound of insects chirping and people chattering around you.

you don't look down for a second, and suddenly there's a tiny pebble that gets stuck in your shoe and trips you up. you brace yourself for a slightly hard impact, but the next thing you know is that wonwoo's arm is around your waist, pulling you into himself.

"careful," he chides softly, rubbing your back for a moment before letting go. "are you okay?"

you nod mechanically.

"let's switch sides. the light's better here."

it's these little things that wonwoo does, that make you fall for him even more. what started off as a little crush is now a hopeless, helpless twinge in your heart that multiplies whenever you so much as look at him. no matter how much you've gotten better at controlling your feelings around him, you can't help but stare at how good he looks tonight, the moon highlighting his face, its silver beams running through his black hair.

you've really, really missed this. just hanging out with him. and maybe you miss the time before you realized your feelings were so earth-consumingly deep that it began clouding every interaction the two of you have had.

"do you have the box with you?" wonwoo asks, all of a sudden.

you question his words for a second, then remember. "yeah," you say, patting at the slim box sitting in the pocket of your jeans.

"let me put it on for you?"

what should have been a calm night out with wonwoo by the riverside has now ended up into you becoming a mess of nerves, your skin burning where his fingertips touch you, fastening the clasp into place. you can't see how it looks on you right now, but wonwoo already has a solution.

"stand here," he says, directing you to a particularly bright lamppost. "you need to see how good it looks on you."

you try protesting, but wonwoo brushes away your concerns. "let me just take a picture. just one."

it's never just one picture with wonwoo, and you can't stop him when he has his mind set on something. you give in and stand under the light and try to muster up a real smile for the camera. you succeed because it's wonwoo standing behind the camera, pulling a funny face that makes you laugh.

he shows you the photos once he's done taking them, and you're not looking at the camera in a single one. he always makes you look better than you do, somehow. you return the favour, taking pictures of him posing in the same spot.

"these are good," wonwoo remarks, scrolling through the photos. "i'm glad you got the moon, too."

you nod before you say something embarrassing like you're the moon, though. you watch as wonwoo takes some more pictures of the sky, and the life around the riverside. the restaurants and shops light up the view for you but you can't help but just look at wonwoo. he looks so serene and in his environment that you can't help but wonder if having wonwoo as your boyfriend would entail dates like this on a regular basis.

"you're staring," is all he says, after two full minutes of silence.

you hum and slowly turn your gaze away from him, focusing on the trees in the distance, trying to play it off casually. rookie error.

"is everything okay?" he asks, pocketing his phone and moving a bit closer to you. "want to go home?"

you shake your head. "you?"

"no, i'm fine."

and then his hand is covering yours.

you try your best not to freak out, but under his hand, your hand is gripping the railing so tightly that you're sure your knuckles are white.

"sorry i missed your birthday," wonwoo says, leaning in close enough that he's towering over you. it's the perfect height to k—

"it's not your fault," you say, licking your lips. "you had work. and you even called me when you were free."

"still. it doesn't make up for me not being here."

"i don't mind," you say honestly, your other hand gripping the railing for strength you don't currently possess. "you're here now."

wonwoo hums, seemingly dissatisfied. your hand's genuinely burning under his, and you resist the urge to check if it's on fire.

"well, for what it's worth," wonwoo says, turning to face you, "i hope you had a good day, and i hope i'm there for your birthday next year. like a good friend."

"you are a good friend, won," you say quietly. "the best."

you wonder if you should just give in and tell him how you feel. given you know how mature he is, you doubt he's going to shun you the way you're afraid he will, but part of you doesn't want your dynamic to change. he's so easy to talk to, and he knows so much about you, and you're afraid of having to find it all over again in another person. maybe it's for the best to let this moment pass.

"you are too, sweetheart." his thumb brushes against the back of your hand, and something in you snaps.

"would you still consider me the best if i told you i liked you?"

wonwoo blinks. in the wake of his silence you can once again hear the vehicles on the road behind you, the sounds of people around you, and maybe even your heart if you shut your eyes.

"you know," he says after a while, his grip on your hand still in place, "i've been trying to give you a chance to say that for the past few months."

your brain plays a comically loud record scratch sound. you look up at him, but he's smiling.

"what."

"i...was hoping there would be a small chance you liked me, and then jeonghan let it out one night when we were out drinking. but i couldn't make the first move because i was scared."

"you were scared? of?"

wonwoo takes his hand back and rubs his neck sheepishly. "i didn't know if he was telling me the truth or making things up. you know jeonghan."

"...yeah," you say, brain still trying to get back on track. "so right now i have one more person on my hitlist."

"whoa, what? i just...implied i liked you!"

"and i just said— wait. what?"

wonwoo laughs. "do you want to be on the same page as me?"

you nod slowly, still processing things. still not believing your luck.

"here's what we'll do, then," wonwoo says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "i'm going to drive you home tonight. then we can take jeonghan off your hitlist and send him some more alcohol, just as a thanks."

you wouldn't even have imagined this a few hours ago. you trail your fingers along the railing, reaching out to hold wonwoo's hand again. he meets your fingers with ease. "and what do i get in return?"

"you get to call me your boyfriend. and kiss me, if you like." wonwoo's leaning over you again. it's the perfect height to kiss you.

and he does end up kissing you, this time.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee

#just had to get this out of my drafts #literally NO one like him btw #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Book Husband: Lewis Hamilton

Formula One Masterlist

word count: 1k

Prompt: Prompt: Person A knows Person B loves to read so they decide to give them a book. At the end of each chapter Person A puts a sticky note with one thing loves about B so that Person B is inspired to finish a  chapter each day. After the last chapter, Person B is about to close the book when they see a bright corner of the last sticky note. They smile expecting another "your beautiful" or "your the best thing to ever happen to me" note but instead they read the four most beautiful words. "Will you marry me?" 

It was no secret you loved to read and that's what Lewis loved about you. More often than not you either had your kindle or a physical copy of a book in your hands. What he loved the most is whenever he had to do paperwork or something, he would just cuddle up beside him and read your book getting lost in whatever story you were reading. He loved how you always ran to tell him your thoughts on the book you were reading and how emotional you got while reading a book. He also loved treating you to books that you mentioned you wanted to read and even build you custom bookshelves to display your books. The fans especially loved it because you would always give them recommendations or randomly give them books and plus they loved whenever you were shown through the race, you could always be seen reading or with a book in your hand. And they always said that Lewis was the embodiment of a book boyfriend. 

Lewis knew he wanted to marry you hell he probably knew that from the second date but he wasn't sure how he wanted to purpose yet. He knew you probably want something low-key and simple that was just the two of you. He decided to go on social media to see if any ideas would show up when he logged on to Tik Tok and saw that you reposted a video where someone's boyfriend had purposed cutting a hole in the book and placing the ring inside of it and writing 'will you marry me' on the book. Lewis saw that you had wrote that this was a cute idea but you would kill your boyfriend if he ever did something like this, which made him laugh but also sort of gave him an idea on how to purpose to you. 

He knew that the next book in the Ice Planet Barbarian Series you loved was coming out, so he went ahead and ordered it. Once it arrived he stole some of your sticky notes and started writing the different things he loved about you and placing each sticky note at the end of each chapter, with the big question "will you marry me?" at the end of the story. 

"Bubs! I'm home!" You said. 

"Be down in just a minute!" He said as he started to clean up his mess. 

He grabbed the book and started to head downstairs to where you were excited to see your reaction to the book and the proposal. He made his way into the kitchen where he saw you looking around for a snack like you always did when you came home from work. 

"Hmm I missed you my gorgeous girl." He said wrapping his arms around and placing a kiss on your cheek. 

"I missed you more my handsome boyfriend." You said turning around and wrapping your arms around him before placing a kiss on his lips. 

"What are you hiding behind your back?" You asked with a raised brow. 

"A little something for you." He said softly placing it in your hands.

You looked at him in shocked when you saw the newest copy of the next book in the ice planet barbarians series. 

"Are you for serious baby? You got it for me?" You asked him excitedly. 

"Of course i did, I knew how much you were excited about it." He said smiling at you. 

"I love it and I love you, thank you." You said leaning up and pressing a kiss on his lips. 

The next day you were finally able to start it on your lunch break and smiled when you saw the sticky note that Lewis that read "i love your kind heart". You quickly took a picture of it and sent it to him while thanking him. Each day as you read a chapter you were surprised with a sticky note at the beginning of each chapter that read different things that Lewis loved about you. 

It was the weekend and you were still reading your book curled up on the couch with Lewis sitting beside you watching tv. Lewis was nervous he had checked that you were almost done with your book so before joining you on the couch, he grabbed the ring shoving it in his pockets and he had been nervous ever since. 

"How's your book going sweetheart?" He asked you. 

"Good Kiera and Ashkeo are finally back home and they are moving in to a new cave with some of the other couples." You said he ran a hand through your hair. 

"I kinda of read a few pages and Kiera and Asheko remind me of us. Don't you think?" He asked you. 

"I really do." You said looking up at him with a smile. 

You went back to finishing your book and were happy with the ending and as you turned the last page you were met with a different colored sticky note that read "will you marry me?" 

"Lewis...?" You asked looking at him only for him to swiftly moved off the couch and on to one knee.

"Y/n my fiery little bookworm. My moon, my stars since the moment I met you I knew that I didn't want to experience life without you, and these past 2 years have been so wonderful. So y/n will you do be the absolute honor of becoming my wife?" He asked you as the tears ran down your face. 

"Ye...yes! Yes Lewis I will." You said as he slide the ring on your ring before standing up and kissing you. 

"You don't know how worried I've been since I gave you that Book?" He said making you laugh. 

"If it counts for anything, I could hardly tell. I loved the sticky notes and proposal." You said smiling at him.

"Really? I may have saw one of your reposts on TikTok where you said you would kill me if I cut a hole in any of your books to put the ring in." He said making you laugh. 

"I really did. And you should do the sticky note thing more often, they were nice to read especially if I was struggling to read or having a bad day while reading." You said to him. 

"I'll keep that in mind. I love you Ms. Hamilton." He said placing a kiss on your lips. 

"I love you Mr. Hamilton." You said smiling at him. 

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you

[asdfghjklmals]

BABY MOON✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. body insecurities. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.4k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, lovesick!gojo, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend's brother surprises her and satoru with a trip to mexico so they can spend time together before baby gojo arrives. (this fic happens in the middle of ‘milestones’, click to read here) AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did some research on puerto vallarta and i'm on my reggaeton kick lately lol did y’all catch the bleach inspiration about the sun? *cries* i love isshin and masaki. ugh. i'm obsessed with how in love oc gojo girlfriend and satoru are in this fic. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“so what exactly does a couple even do on a baby moon?” satoru asked as he buttoned his dress shirt in the mirror, leaving four unbuttoned to expose his toned chest.

he wore a champagne silk button up with sleeves cuffed halfway up his forearm. tan cargo shorts decorated his long legs. his frosty white hair brushing the tip of his eyelashes, bright blue eyes dressed with gold sunglasses. he had just finished unpacking your luggage.

you laid on your side in the large hotel villa bed, tired from the long flight from japan to mexico. your flowy white maxi sundress splayed out on the linen sheets. your hair was put up in a bun. a bright yellow flower tucked behind your ear, given to you by the villa concierge upon checking in.

“according to google, couples go on baby moons to spend quality time together before the baby arrives.” you explained, “—once baby gojo arrives, all my attention will probably be on them.”

satoru turned to face you and frowned, “not even a little attention for good ol' satoru gojo?” he leaned onto the bed, hovering over you, encasing you between his strong arms.

you looked at him and caressed his cheek with the palm of your hand, “nope. you did this to yourself when you got me pregnant, sweetheart.” you sneered at him, knowing it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“i’m jealous.” he said while frowning, “—you hear that, baby gojo? you’re stealing all my lovin’.” he leaned down to loudly say to your stomach, his cheek pressed right against your 7 month pregnant belly. you laughed as you felt baby gojo shift away in your womb in reply to satoru’s comment.

“it was nice of your brother to pay for this vacation for us.” satoru mentioned as he laid beside you. his head was aligned right next to your belly. he liked to think that baby gojo enjoyed listening to him talk to you, so he always laid his head next to your belly in hopes that his unborn child could recognize his voice.

your brother, touya, had surprised you and satoru with an all-expenses-paid trip to puerto vallarta, mexico. touya said it would be a ‘nice, romantic’ getaway for the two of you. however, your vacation got off to a rough start as you experienced nausea throughout the flight. it was a 15 hour flight to get here, and you did not bring enough sour candy or gingersnaps to last for the entire flight. you spent a majority of the flight trying to sleep instead.

“i’ll have to thank him again. should we send him a picture?” you suggested. satoru pulled out his phone and snapped a very unflattering picture of you to send to your brother.

“done.” he reported.

“—i meant a decent looking picture of the both of us.” you glared at him. he ignored you and continued to send his text message to touya. throughout the years that you and satoru have been together, satoru gained a brother figure in touya. being an only child was lonely for satoru, so he made an effort to have a close bond with touya.

[6:17pm] satoru gojo sent an image

[6:17pm] satoru: your sister is having a great time lol she was sick during the entire flight so we're resting before dinner 😅

[6:18pm] touya (l/n) laughed at an image

[6:18pm] touya: glad to see she’s having fun 🙄 lol

[6:19pm] satoru: thanks again for the vacation bro. 👊🏼 (y/n) really needed that.

[6:19pm] touya: anytime. have fun and be safe. i guess it’s too late for me to tell you two to use protection 😂

[6:20pm] satoru gojo laughed at a message

and satoru was definitely not going to tell you about that text.

“should we go through the ‘what to expect’ app before dinner?” he suggested. it was his favorite thing to do with you since you got pregnant. he wanted to know everything about your pregnancy and how baby gojo was developing. you appreciated how involved satoru was throughout your entire pregnancy. you couldn't ask for a better partner or a better father for baby gojo.

you pat your hand around the bed to find your phone, opening up the app to read out loud, “at 27 weeks, baby gojo is the size of a head of lettuce, is about two pounds and more than a foot long. this is the end of the second trimester.”

your doctor had told you not to travel internationally past 28 weeks, so you and satoru planned this baby moon right before the start of your third trimester.

“your voice is music to baby gojo’s ears.” you continued reading.

satoru grumbled, “—same for me. except when you’re yelling at me.”

you glared at satoru as he smirked at you innocently. ignoring him, you continued to read, “don’t be surprised if you feel little jumps in your belly, your little one might have the case of hiccups.” your heart melted at the thought, “—that is so cute.”

satoru took your phone from you and read the recap for week 27, “at a glance, your baby can hear you, baby has hiccups, and they will be developing muscle tone from being active.”

“baby gojo is a little gymnast in there.” you said to satoru. you wondered if your baby got their habit of being unable to sit still from their father. baby gojo was always active at night too. whenever the students wanted to feel baby gojo kick during the day, they were always sleeping.

“your baby may recognize both you and your partner’s voices by now. so this may be a good time to read or sing to your baby—or tummy.” satoru looked at you with excitement, “—i told you baby gojo recognizes my voice. should i start singing to them too?”

you laughed, “since you’re not that bad of a singer… go ahead. sing me a song, mr. gojo.”

one of your favorite memories with satoru throughout all your years of knowing the insufferable man was the day you went on your very first mission with him. you weren't even dating at the time, but the memory meant so much to you. you shared your earphones with him during the subway ride to chiba and showed him all your favorite old school songs that you and your late father loved. (read 'sleeping with the enemy' here)

“i’ve got sunshineeee, on a cloudy day. when it’s cold outsiiiiide, i’ve got the month of may. i’d. guess. you’d. say. what. can. make. me. feel. this. way. my giiiirl. talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” (a/n: click here to listen to the exact line and song satoru's singing if you don't know it, i time stamped it for you!)

you laughed and smiled in adoration at the man who just serenaded you and your pregnant belly. of course he’d choose the temptations for this occasion. baby gojo started kicking.

you leaned over to ask your belly, “did you like daddy’s singing?”

“did they kick?” satoru asked as he leaned forward to talk to your belly, “kick once for no, kick twice for yes.”

after waiting for a moment, you felt one kick, “sorry, you have a tough crowd, babe. it was one kick.” you reported back to the eager satoru.

“back to the app,” he said, ignoring you, offended that his baby didn’t appreciate his singing, “it says nearly 3 in 4 women experience swelling of the hands, feet, and ankles. so avoid sitting and standing for long periods. go on walks or try swimming.”

“we can try out the pool tomorrow.” you said. satoru’s attention still on the app.

“it says you should eat lots of salmon. it’s supposedly good for you and the baby.” satoru reported.

you started laughing, “okay, toge inumaki. let’s go get some dinner.”

the next day

“babe?” you called out to satoru, “can you help me tie my swimsuit?”

you frowned as you looked at yourself in the mirror. your body was unrecognizable to you. you couldn’t fit into any of your clothes. you didn’t feel like yourself as your body started to grow, and you were only going to get bigger and bigger thanks to your still growing baby inside of you.

satoru waltzed into the bathroom smelling like sunscreen. he was already in his tropical floral swimming shorts, shirtless, with a towel draped over his shoulder. why did he have to look like a chiseled greek god next to you? you felt like humpty dumpty next to him. he walked behind you to grab the loose bikini strings from your fingers, tying a secure knot for you. he snickered to himself because he wouldn’t care if they came undone, but he knew you would.

you turned away from him.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? you’re usually the first one in the pool.” satoru asked as he followed your gaze in the mirror. he saw that you were examining yourself.

“i—just don’t really feel confident in my body right now...” you admitted in a quiet voice. the statement shattered his heart.

“you’re kidding me.” satoru scoffed, “—babe, you’re literally growing our perfect baby inside of you. you are the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid my six eyes on.”

“maybe it’s the bikini. i should’ve opted for a one piece now that i’m pregnant.” you frowned as you looked down to run your fingers along the ruffles of your white two-piece swimsuit, your belly hanging out in the open in all its glory.

satoru made a face, “i hope baby gojo kicks you for saying that.”

and to your surprise, you felt an extra strong kick. it was like baby gojo heard him. satoru and your baby were ganging up on you already and baby gojo wasn’t even born yet.

satoru hugged you from behind. his strong arms making you feel safe. he always knew what to say to make you feel better again. he kissed your temple as you sighed.

“come on, let’s go for a swim.” he grabbed your hand to lead you to the pool right outside the private villa. he placed a pair of his black circular sunglasses on your face. he smeared sunscreen on your cheeks and traced a sunscreen shaped heart on your belly before helping you rub it in. a sloppy application from satoru, but you appreciated the sweet gesture. you massaged sunscreen on your arms as satoru helped you apply to your legs.

satoru watched you like a hawk as you stepped into the pool, afraid of you slipping while pregnant. you slowly walked deeper into the pool, the cool water rose to cover your belly and chest. after making sure you were okay, satoru ran to the opposite side of the pool and cannon-balled in, splashing water all over you. you giggled as you watched the white haired sorcerer swim towards you in the beautiful, clear water.

satoru popped out of the glistening water as if he was the little mermaid, throwing his snow-white hair back, shaking his head side to side so the water would fling off. he swam towards you. you reached for his shoulders as he pulled you closer, positioning your legs around his waist so he could take you further into the deep end. you wrapped your arms loosely around his broad shoulders as he held you by your thighs.

“you feeling better?” he asked as he booped your adorable button nose.

“a little—” you said as you wrinkled your nose. you traced your soft fingers along satoru's chest before asking him a question you were nervous to ask. “satoru—will you still love me if i don’t go back to how i looked like before i got pregnant?”

stunned at your ridiculous question, satoru asked, “what kind of question is that? of course i’ll still love you, babe. i’d even love you if you were still pregnant with the raging pregnancy hormones forever.”

you splashed water onto him, glaring through his sunglasses that were resting on your cheek and nose bridge, “you’re only saying that because my libido is higher than usual.”

“i'm just saying... a man will never complain about that.” satoru chuckled as he sarcastically spoke for all the men in the world.

“—then would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“that’s pushing it.” satoru bantered back. you splashed him with water again before resting your head on his chest. he floated with you in his arms for a moment, soaking up the sunshine. you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach along with your growing baby twisting and turning inside of you. your heart taking in the pure bliss you were experiencing just by being here in satoru’s arms. you wondered how satoru felt right now.

after spending about an hour wading in the pool with satoru, you looked over to see two hotel employees bringing out a tray of food.

“pardon our interruption señor gojo and señorita (l/n), we brought a late breakfast for you two to enjoy. this was requested from señor (l/n) early this morning.”

“gracias!” you thanked the hotel employee with the most basic spanish you learned while sitting on the 15 hour plane ride. satoru laughed at your enthusiasm. he admired how you always wanted to be courteous to others.

“are you and baby gojo hungry?” he asked as he started swimming towards the shallow end again. you nodded as you clung to him, planting a sweet kiss on the crook of his neck and shoulder. satoru got out of the pool first so he could help you out. he grabbed the towels sitting on the cabana chairs to dry you both off, wrapping the towel around your waist.

“wow, the food looks amazing.” you sat down and drooled over the spread that your brother ordered for you and satoru. your mouth watered. there was a selection of huevos rancheros, tamales, fried plantains, fresh local fruit, chorizo hash, eggs, bread and two large pitchers of orange juice and water.

satoru sipped his orange juice and watched your face light up as you sampled all the delicious food in front of you. a happy glow in your face that made him fall in love with you all over again. it reminded him of the first time you went to get ice cream together, the way your face lit up and you did your happy dance in your chair after tasting the sweet chocolate ice cream. you reached over to feed him a bite of the fried plantains. satoru hummed in approval.

you were like the sun to satoru. his whole world revolved around you, and you attracted anyone and anything that entered your orbit. it was probably why all the students and faculty loved you at jujutsu high. even strangers felt comfortable around you.

you made satoru’s world brighter. before you met him, he felt as if clouds shrouded his life at all times, unclear of what he wanted to do with his life. you pulled him out of that cloudiness and lit up every second of the day as soon as you came into his life (or ever since he broke into yours). you were the color in satoru’s world of black and white. you inspired him to be better, and he wanted to be a good man, just for you.

he was making it his mission to be the sun in your life, just like you were in his. it broke his heart knowing that you were starting to feel insecure in your ever-changing and growing body. and it made him even more sad knowing that you were questioning his love for you during this temporary change.

however, little did satoru know, he already was the sun in your life. he has been ever since you started dating, and you would be forever grateful to the 17 year old boy who broke your domain over a decade ago. without satoru’s love, you don’t know where you’d be right now. satoru's unconditional love was something you never thought you'd experience in this lifetime. (read ‘fated to love you’ here)

later that night

you and satoru held hands while walking the streets of zona romántica, one of the liveliest streets of puerto vallarta. your spirit birds flying overhead with you and satoru. every turn you and satoru took gave you a beautiful view of the mexican riviera. a mariachi band played in the cobblestone streets, and white-stucco buildings were decorated with bright orange, yellow, and red flowers.

"this city is so charming." you said, green eyes shining. you admired the architecture and all the bright colors in the streets as satoru led the way.

"what do you want to eat for dinner?" he asked while looking at a tourist brochure.

"i refuse to eat salmon again for dinner, so anything but that."

satoru looked down at you, azure blue eyes peeking through his sunglasses, "i read that there's a good tapas restaurant about a 20 minute walk from here. do you think you can walk that far?"

you laughed at his question, "satoru, i can still walk believe it or not."

he squeezed your hand as if he was saying 'okay, okay, you got me there'. you took the lead and guided him towards the malecón boardwalk. when you saw the sunset, you let go of satoru's hand, walking faster towards the view. the sunset was a mix of pink, purple, yellow, and orange. it was like a watercolor painting appearing in your eyes. the warm hues kissed the blues and greens of the ocean horizon.

while you admired the beautiful sunset, satoru admired the beautiful you. he snapped a couple pictures of you with his phone, afraid to forget the memory of how stunning you looked at this moment in time.

you were wearing a strapless white sundress, similar to the one you wore yesterday. your swimsuit lines from this morning showed off your golden tan you received while being here in mexico. the dress hugged your belly, but was loose enough to be comfortable for you to move around in without feeling restricted.

intricate blue flowers were sewn on the bottom fringe of your dress and a high leg slit showed off your pretty tan legs. your dress was paired with brown and white sandals that were comfortable enough for your swollen feet.

your long black hair was curled, flowing in the wind as you skipped lightly around the boardwalk. a large blue flower that matched satoru’s eyes was tucked behind your ear. it was almost sickening how much love he felt for you at this very moment.

"careful, sweetheart." satoru called out you as he put his phone back into his pocket, worried about you skipping around. he knew you’d complain about pelvic pain later tonight because of it. he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, following you wherever your heart desired.

you turned around and gave him your world-class million dollar smile that always gave him butterflies even after all this time, "so, where's this restaurant?" (read ‘butterflies’ here)

after dinner

"satoru, look! everyone’s dancing!" you pointed as you and satoru walked out of the restaurant after a delicious dinner.

there was a large crowd on the boardwalk, dancing to reggaeton music that the local dj was playing. everyone was dancing, singing, and shouting the lyrics to the songs. they were having the time of their lives and you wanted to be a part of it too.

"do you want to spend some time out here before we head back to the villa?" satoru asked, noticing how entranced you were. you nodded excitedly.

you and satoru found a small table at a bar close by. you both ordered non-alcoholic drinks for clear reasons. satoru didn't like to drink alcohol and you were pregnant.

you sipped your virgin midori sour. the melon juice, tangy lime, lemon and club soda felt refreshing. your foot tapped on the wooden boardwalk to the melodic beat of the music playing.

"babe, do you want to go dance…?" you asked timidly.

satoru looked at you, surprised, "you want to dance? i never thought you'd asked." he laughed. he was usually the one that would have to drag you out to the dance floor.

satoru downed the rest of his way-too-sweet virgin strawberry daquiri and grabbed your hand to lead you to where the rest of the crowd was dancing. (satoru forced his infinity outward to make sure no one accidentally bumped into your belly, but you didn't have to know that.)

you swayed with the music, your hair bouncing as you bobbed your head to the beat. you spun around, dancing to your heart’s desire. your heart skipped a beat when you felt satoru's hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he followed all of your movements as you danced around him. you turned to face him.

"satoru," you draped your arms around his broad shoulders, "i think people are staring at us."

"really? i didn't notice." satoru grinned, his attention was only on you tonight. he didn't even notice that you and him were the center of attention on tonight's dance floor. he couldn't care less. the only thing he cared about was you.

the dim street lights and twinkle lights hanging along the boardwalk emitted a soft glow on your rosy cheeks and emerald green eyes. satoru's heart raced at the view. how could one person be so perfect and so beautiful? he felt like he hit the jackpot to be able to call you his. he didn’t think he would ever be this lucky in another life.

he grabbed your hand to twirl you around, pulling you close for a moment, your back resting against his chest again. he kissed your bare shoulder just to spin you around for a second time. your sweet laughter filled his ears, his favorite sound in the world.

once everyone started to slowly leave the boardwalk, you both decided to call it a night. the moon reflected brightly on the mexican sands and dark blue ocean waters, guiding you back to the villa. and in that very moonlight, you shone brightly like a lighthouse beacon. it was something about the way you looked tonight that took satoru’s breath away. that damn pregnancy glow looked a thousand times more radiant in his six eyes and he couldn’t get enough of it.

*************************

after a relaxing shower to wash away the sweat from dancing, you and satoru laid in bed together, winding down for the night.

“did you know that if you press your ear against my belly, you might be able to hear baby gojo’s heartbeat?” you asked satoru as he put his phone down and turned to face you in bed.

"really?" satoru asked in amusement, "let me try it."

he leaned over towards you, resting his head gently on your belly.

"move your head over here," you guided his head to where baby gojo was in your womb.

the room fell silent. all you could hear was the ocean crashing against the rocks outside the hotel villa, the cool breeze entering the room, satoru's breathing and your own racing heartbeat. it was an intimate moment between the two of you.

satoru gasped, "i can hear it." he smiled brightly as he looked up at you. you smiled back at him, running your fingers through his soft white hair as he planted kisses on your bare belly.

"i wonder if you can sense any cursed energy from the baby." you asked him.

"i've been trying to ever since you got pregnant. i can't sense anything but yours." satoru said, "maybe our baby will be lucky and won't have any..." he trailed off.

"for some reason, i highly doubt that." you frowned. it would be a blessing if your baby didn't have to deal with curses, but coming from your clan and the gojo clan, it was more than likely your baby would be born with an innate cursed technique. plus, you felt something off about your cursed energy since you became pregnant. it was like someone else’s cursed energy was always there with you, and it wasn't satoru's residuals either.

"whether or not baby gojo has cursed energy, it wouldn't make me love them any less." satoru said quietly.

you chuckled at his ridiculous statement. "of course. this is our baby we're talking about. you better love them."

"—and just because your body is changing to grow our baby, my thoughts about how beautiful you are and how much i love you will never change." satoru added as-a-matter-of-factly.

“satoru… you’re embarrassing me.” you whined, hiding your blushing face in between the pillows. satoru took your fluffy shield away from you.

“don’t hide your beautiful face from me, woman!” he scolded you playfully. you intertwined your fingers with his as he leaned in for a kiss. he pulled you closer to him as you rested your head on his chest. you listened to his heartbeat, it was one of the most comforting sounds to fall asleep to.

“i love you, satoru.” you hummed.

satoru kissed each of your fingers, “i know.” he said confidently as you stared back up at him, waiting for him to say it back. “—i love you too, (y/n).”

“that’s what i thought.” you mumbled. “can you believe this is probably our last vacation as just us two? we’ll probably be too busy getting ready for baby gojo’s arrival to spend quality time together like this when we get home.” you said to him as you placed your hand against his. you were comparing the size of his hand to yours in the air.

he stroked your back gently with his unoccupied hand. he thought to himself for a moment. a playful grin spreading across his face, “guess we’ll just have to make the most of this baby moon then, huh?”

“—and just what do you mean by that?” you peered up at him.

satoru just smiled at you before he assaulted your neck and shoulder with a plethora of kisses. you squealed with laughter, pushing him away, trying to escape from his grasp.

“satoru, stop! that tickles!” you continued to laugh as he gently pulled you back to him with blue. he trailed kisses from your chest, up your neck onto your jawline, across your cheek to your nose, up your nose bridge to your forehead, and lastly, back down to your lips.

“for now, i don’t want to share.” he whispered in your ear.

ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, 'hello baby' here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

#jjk x oc #jjk fluff #gojo x oc #gojo satoru x oc #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x oc #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo imagines #satoru gojo imagines #jjk imagines #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #the baby gojo chronicles

[cambion-companion]

Tail Talk

Based on this anon ask:

I would love to see more smut with raphael and a Tiefling tav- Some tail to tail action !! And stuff involving horns..

AND inspired by the art piece where the Tiefling OC has a "heart tail" position around Rolan because I love the idea of Tieflings having tail language.

Especially if our Tiefling Tav is unaware they're doing it.

Raphael x gn!reader

Your tail flicked like an agitated cat. "I'm working on it, Korilla. I was close to success when you whisked me back here." You gestured to the familiar lavish dining hall, the grand fireplace crackling behind where you stood upon the marble floor.

"Our master wishes to speak with you." Korilla raised a preemptive hand to ward off your questions. "Don't ask me why, you know how he is."

"Hmm." You did indeed. You had been his warlock for a shorter time than Korilla, yet his theatrical and often contradictory nature still kept you on your toes.

"And do try to keep that tail of yours in check this time, yes?" Korilla gave you her trademark smirk. "I think he's beginning to notice."

"Notice what?" You were quite puzzled but the Dwarven woman just waved you off and sauntered back to the archive, leaving you alone to wait. "Notice what?" You asked a little louder at the empty doorway she'd disappeared through.

"Hells it's hot." You tugged at the collar of your shirt uncomfortably, familiar with the stifling heat, yet never as comfortable as you were in biting cold climates.

"Indeed." Raphael's voice made you turn, his leathery wings and red skin glowing in the flame light. "This is hell, my dear."

Your tail immediately stilled from its nervous swishing, the blood rushing to your cheeks as it always did when he caught you by surprise.

"I asked you to have an update on your progress." Raphael cocked an eyebrow as he slowly circled around you. He clasped his hands behind his back, observing your comparatively diminutive form. "Two months ago. Perhaps I've been too lenient with you."

"No." You quickly protested.

"I am not one to coddle my servants." Raphael looked you up and down and smiled, looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream.

"No, I know." You said, wanting to turn to face him but hearing the edge in his pleasant tone. "I was almost there when Korilla-"

Your words broke off in a short gasp as you felt a large hand press hot against the small of your back. Raphael leaned over your shoulder, his breath tickling your ear. "Your words paint an idyllic picture, yet the rest of you is quite beyond your control. Is that not so?"

Genuinely confused, you furrowed your brows, your heart hammering in your chest. "I don't know what you mean."

Raphael chuckled and the sound alone sent a shock of feeling to your core. "You truly aren't aware." He slowly withdrew and circled back around until you were chest to chest. "For such a precocious flower, I expected more."

His glowing eyes roved your puzzled expression, self-satisfaction practically oozing from him. His long devil's tail whipped around and tangled with yours. You let out a small squeak of surprise.

"Your tail, my dear." Raphael explained, his tail continuing to twist and pull with your own. "It betrays you."

With a wave of his hand, a large standing mirror was conjured beside you, the reflection of the hearth fire nearly blinding you for a moment. His tail trailed down your leg to wrap around your ankle and Raphael gestured broadly for you to look at yourself. He watched you closely as you turned your face to the shining mirror.

"Oh." You said, your cheeks burning.

"Eloquent as ever." Raphael sounded amused, though something simmered below the surface.

Your tail had been curving in the shape of half a heart, slightly raised at the base in a universal signal of wishing to mate. You quickly let it fall to a normal position, unwilling to look back at your master.

Long fingers tucked beneath your chin and coaxed your face back to his. Raphael's tail slithered slowly up to your thigh, you thought for a moment you were going to succumb to the heat and faint, but his fingers beneath your jaw grounded you.

"I do not mind." Once sure you would not turn away, Raphael released you. "For the present, we have other matters to attend to. Do not think I will forget this revelation, however."

#raphael x reader #raphael x tiefling tav #drabble #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael fanfic #fanfiction

[trickphotography2]

Santa's North Island Delivery Service

Stuck at work, Bradley is missing his daughter's first Christmas Eve. But when the squadron decides to turn the hanger into Santa's Workshop, the pilot is able to sneak away to spend a little time with his girls. (Inspired by a true story; Rooster x Reader Christmas fluff)

Word count: 2.4K

Ao3 | Masterlist

-------------------------------------------------------

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was officially having the worst Christmas Eve. Not only was he stuck at work doing absolutely nothing, he was missing his daughter’s first Christmas Eve. 

With his boots kicked onto his desk, he leaned back in his chair and scrolled through the photos you’d sent him throughout the night. At eight months old, Bennett was too young to really know what was going on, but it didn’t make it suck any less. He wanted to see her lying under the tree, colored lights reflecting in her eyes. (He’d already set that picture as his home screen.)

“Hey, Lieutenant?” A knock on his door drew his attention, and he looked up to see Petty Officer Second Class Wagner, one of the head mechanics, standing there. 

“Yeah?” Rooster said, sitting up. Even though he outranked the enlisted man, Wagner was one of the most respected non-commissioned officers in the squadron. To cheer up the men stuck working the night shift, he’d organized a movie night after doing a Christmas movie bracket throughout the week - National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation had barely edged out Die Hard. 

“You got anything at home that needs to be assembled before going under the tree?” 

“Huh?” 

“Any gifts for the kiddo that need to be put together? We’re getting a list of stops together for the trucks.” Rooster gave him a confused look, which made the man chuckle. “We’re bored, so we figured we’d set up some presents for everyone’s kids in the hangar. The first group of guys are heading out now to get stuff, and then we’ll swap.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I think there’s a couple things. Let me check with my girlfriend.” With a nod, Wagner left, leaving Rooster to stare at his phone. After a moment, he called you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, answering on the third ring. He could hear babbling in the background.

“Hey. Have you started getting things together to go under the tree?”

“Not yet. We’re just finishing up bath time, and then we’re gonna get cookies out for Santa and go to bed, aren’t we, Benny girl?” 

“Any chance you can hold off for about an hour?” Bradley asked, unable to keep from smiling at the sound of his daughter giggling. 

“Are you getting off work early?” It was hard to miss the sound of hope and excitement in your voice, and he hated to dash it.

“No, but I’m gonna run home and pick up some stuff.” You hummed.

“Okay. I’ll try and keep her up. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too.” Hanging up the call, Bradley dropped his head and tapped the phone against his forehead. It was only your second Christmas together and the first as parents, and he was already missing things. You’d assured him it was okay and that you understood that his job sometimes meant spending time apart, but he hated it. 

“You’re a mean one, Benny Grinch,” you sang, gently bouncing your daughter as she howled. Letting your head fall back, you blew out a long breath. The crying fit couldn’t last forever. 

Though overly tired, she was fighting against going to sleep. It was a nightly battle, but one that Bradley usually helped to fight. You’d learned early on that he had what you lovingly called the Sleeper Hold - the minute Benny was tucked into her father’s arms, her eyes would start to close. Shifting her onto your shoulder, you glanced at your watch and sighed. As much as you wanted to wait to finish the bedtime routine until Bradley got home, it was getting late. “Alright, sweetie,” you cooed, grabbing your water bottle and retreating to the nursery. “Let’s get settled in.”

With the white noise machine and night light on, you settled into the rocking chair and lifted your shirt. Benny rooted for a moment before latching onto your nipple, making you inhale sharply at the pinch. Digging your toes into the carpet, you gently rocked back and forth, holding your daughter’s gaze as she ate. “Merry Christmas, Bennett,” you whispered, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she grunted. You closed your eyes, comforted by the warm weight of your daughter in your arms and the tugging at your breast.

“Hey.” The soft, raspy voice roused you from the trance you’d fallen into, and you lifted your head to see Bradley standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” you replied sleepily. His long legs ate up the space between you until he was beside you, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. The familiar scratch of his mustache had your eyes fluttering closed again. 

“She done?” Bradley asked, a large hand coming down to cup your daughter’s head. 

“Should be soon.” At his touch, Benny startled from her doze, suckling hard and squirming. 

“You need anything?” 

“The sleeper hold in a minute to finish her off.” In the dim lighting, you saw Bradley grin before he leaned down again to brush his lips against yours. 

“I can do that.” As if on cue, Bennett released your breast, her breath a soft pant against your tender skin. Without a word, Bradley took her and settled her on his shoulder, patting her back. “Hey, Benny, were you good for mommy tonight?” He paced the nursery as you reached for one of the breast pads and cleaned up. When a loud burp sounded, you heard him chuckle. “That’s my girl.” 

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you - your boyfriend in his tight khaki uniform cooing to your daughter as she rubbed her face into his shoulder to fight sleep. “How long do you have before you have to head back?”

“I’ve got about thirty minutes,” Bradley replied, turning on his heel to face you while pacing the room. “Benny girl, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Santa comes.”

“I’m not sure she’s old enough for that bribery to work yet.” His grin blinded as he kissed the back of her head, lightly bouncing her. 

“Gonna be fun when she is. We’ll track him with NORAD and everything.” Shaking your head, you stood and kissed both of their cheeks.

“You get her down, and I’ll start pulling out the gifts.”

“Put aside anything that needs to be put together or wrapped, and I’ll take it to the hanger. Apparently, that’s what we’re gonna do for the rest of the shift.” With a mocking salute, you left the nursery to the sound of him humming a lullaby. 

Ten minutes later, Bradley crept out of the nursery with the baby monitor in hand and joined you in grabbing the presents stashed around the house. The Daggers had dropped off their gifts throughout the week, and your family had mailed theirs. The craftsman that you’d helped Bradley purchase when he moved to North Island didn’t have the best hiding spots - it wasn’t exactly something he needed when you’d been his real estate agent - but with Benny so little, it was a problem for the future. “I think we may have overdone it,” you sighed, setting an unwrapped toy on the couch. The floor by the tree was already covered with wrapped presents.

“Nope, just enough,” Bradley chuckled, opening his arms. With a scoff, you stepped into his embrace, smiling as he swayed you. A dark spot decorated his shoulder, and you gently wiped away your daughter’s drool. “Gotta spoil my girls.”

“I really hope you kept to our budget for each other.” When he stayed silent, you pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed within the budget, right?” 

“I stayed within our Christmas budget,” he answered, his hands gliding down your back to cup your ass as his mustache tickled your throat. “Love you, baby.” 

“I love you too. Now, help me get all of this stuff under the tree. Did you want to do her stocking?” 

There was a whoop, and Bradley turned to see three guys crouched on the hanger floor cheering as they played with a racetrack. Another corner had been designated as the bike assembly space, an array of tools spread on the ground. One of the card tables had been dragged out from the break room, and it was covered with popcorn and an assortment of cookies. 

Unsure of where to go, Bradley walked towards a few other officers standing in the corner. “Hey, Rooster,” Captain “Taco” Bell said as he neared. “We were just talking about ordering pizza for everyone. Would you throw in?” 

“Yeah. Does anyone know if there’s a system here, or does it just go wherever?” 

“Wagner’s in charge,” Payback shrugged, nodding towards the NCO helping assemble a kitchen playset. “You got stuff for Benny?” 

“Just a few things. Brought some of the smaller stuff to wrap, too.” The two men quickly went to the Bronco to unload the gifts. Setting them in a pile with a couple of rolls of wrapping paper, they quickly assembled the play sets. A few other guys drifted by, helping to slot the plastic pieces together or offering to help wrap. Boxes piled up on one end of the hanger, and a sign-up sheet for folks who had larger gifts at the house that needed to be assembled was passed around. It looked like at least six families were getting swingsets or trampolines. Bradley idly wondered about setting up a swing in the backyard in the summer. In the meantime, he assembled the small slide that would be perfect for the living room.

The pizza arrived around 10:00PM, and there was a quick break. As they sat around the hangar, the Santa letter exchange happened. Wagner supplied blank papers with a printed Christmas border, and the parents swapped letters for others to write the replies. “This saved my ass one year,” Wagner shared. “My middle daughter was starting to question Santa, and boom - different handwriting. Got her for at least another year.” 

Around midnight, the squadron split into three sections - one to stay back and clean up the hanger, and two to deliver gifts and set up the presents. Bradley packed up his gifts and put them into the back of the Bronco. He was joined by three guys to set up a trampoline. Aided by headlamps, they were able to get it done in about an hour with only a few pinched fingers in the process, which was worth it to test it out. 

A trampoline was added to the Christmas list when Benny was a bit older. 

After touching base with Wagner, they headed to the second house to set up another trampoline before returning to the hangar. The third team left to assemble a swingset while they settled in to watch Die Hard for their last two hours on shift. 

Tucked away in his office, Bradley set about wrapping his last present. 

“Benny girl, look here!” you cooed, trying to get your daughter to look as you snapped pictures. Sitting in her father’s lap, she slapped the present in front of her and shrieked. Bradley laughed, quickly shifting his hold to wipe the drool from his wrist onto his sweatpants before retrieving his cup of coffee. Even with just two hours of sleep, he wasn’t willing to push back Christmas morning. After taking a sip, he set the mug down and took Benny’s hand, sliding it under the paper seam. Her hand flew up, ripping the paper.

“Good girl!” he chuckled, helping her tear the rest away to reveal stacking cups. It took about an hour to get through the presents, trading off the baby to get pictures. 

A small stack of presents surrounded you as Bradley opened his new electric razor. “Thanks, baby,” he said, crawling across the living room floor to kiss you. With one hand on Benny’s stomach to keep her upright in your lap, you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb along his scars.

“You’re welcome, babe. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.” Pushing onto his feet, he quickly shoved the wrapping paper into the trash bag and ran a hand through his hair. “That looks like almost everything.”

“Unless Santa left something somewhere in the back of a closet, it looks like we got it all.” 

“Hang on,” Bradley said, reaching around the back of the tree and retrieving a small box. “Looks like we missed one.” Holding it up, he glanced at the gift tag. “To Mommy, from Bennett.” 

“What?” Grinning, he sat down across from you and offered you the box, holding out his arms for the baby. A quick glance confirmed it was Bradley’s handwriting on the tag. “What’d you get me, Benny?” you asked, smiling as your daughter laughed when her father tickled her. Lifting it to your ear, you shook it gently and heard it rattle. Tearing away the paper, you laughed at the kid’s jewelry box. The ballerina twirled when you opened it to reveal a bunch of plastic necklaces, rings, and bracelets. “Oooh, fancy! I know what I’m wearing today,” you laughed, quickly putting on a pair of clip-on earrings and a necklace. 

“There’s a note,” Bradley said, leaning down to press his lips to Benny’s head. He looked a bit nervous.

And there was. Buried under the plastic was a folded-up piece of paper. Your mouth fell open when you read it.

I couldn’t get you jewelry this year, but Daddy could.

With wide eyes, you looked up to see Bradley grinning at you. “Open the drawer.” 

Slowly, you pulled the handle to reveal a diamond ring. “Bradley?”

“Will you marry me?” 

Later, when Bennett was asleep and the baby monitor was tossed onto the couch, Bradley watched the Christmas tree lights dance across your face as he took you apart slowly, savoring your taste. The ring sparkled on your finger when you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans as you shook apart under him, thighs bracketing his ears. 

Kissing his way up your body, Bradley paused to suck on a tender nipple, groaning when your nails raked his scalp. The tree shook when he continued his ascent, knocking the lower branches as he tried to reach your lips. “Fuck.” 

Laughing, you lifted your head to meet his gaze and wiped your thumb along his mustache, feeling your arousal coating the coarse hair. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama. Now get out from under the tree so I can unwrap my present in bed and fuck you properly.” 

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Author's Note: This was inspired by my dad and his squadron when we were stationed in Japan. He had to work overnight Christmas Eve and they ended up making a run to everyone's house on base to pick up gifts that needed to be set up. I definitely believed in Santa for another year when I didn't recognize the handwriting on the letter the Christmas morning.

The jewelry box and note are also pulled from real life. Dad went remote for a year (he was over in Korea and we were stateside) to ensure that we got orders to Florida, and came back just in time for Christmas. My sisters and I got mom the fake jewelry (we were all in high school/college) while Dad got Mom a new necklace.

Thank you for reading my (late) self-indulgent Christmas fic! I hope you enjoyed it, and my first foray into writing Rooster. And a major thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, even if she's just dipping her toes into Bradley and would have preferred it to be Jake 😂

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction

[tkwrites]

Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Private Lessons

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 

Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.

Word Count: 3,300

Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!

This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to. 

Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring! 

eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽

Private Lessons

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come. 

Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.

She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. 

Does everyone skate? 

Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most. 

I've never skated before. 

Really? 

Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus. 

He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.

Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels? 

No wheels ;) 

She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons? 

I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;) 

I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want? 

A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train. 

That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home. 

She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them. 

Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.  

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you. 

Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication. 

A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.” 

“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Like you even need them.”

Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly. 

He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals. 

The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself. 

“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.

“I missed you, too.” 

“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.

Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.

“I’ve been skating before.” 

One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?” 

“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.” 

Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.” 

“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.

“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?” 

Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”

“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing. 

“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.” 

The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg. 

She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.” 

“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.” 

“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”

“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.” 

“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.” 

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 

A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.” 

“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.” 

She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile. 

He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”

He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.” 

As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”

“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”

“Have you ever worn heels?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. 

“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”

“You're thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to do, not think?”

“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”

She nodded. 

He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous. 

“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through. 

She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back. 

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.” 

In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.

 “Just hold on and let me pull you.” 

Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.

“Can you relax? I’ve got you.” 

She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy. 

“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored. 

Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before. 

“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.” 

“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”

“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?” 

“Well, no, but this is new.” 

“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.” 

He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.” 

“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.” 

“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”

She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.

She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed. 

“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”

As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off. 

Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this. 

Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself. 

“Okay, come back here.” 

He moved in front of her again. 

“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. 

“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”

“Yeah,” she said, resigned. 

“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”

That touched a nerve and she glared at him. 

He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?” 

“That’s different.” 

“How is that different?” 

“I started that as a kid.”

“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.” 

“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”

“No one will care. They’re just excited to meet you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.” 

That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions. 

Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth. 

“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.” 

“Tell me about your day,” he said.  

“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions. 

“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.” 

He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing. 

“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.” 

Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?” 

“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.” 

“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said. 

“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.” 

“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.” 

“Can't you report him or something?”

“For what?”

“For changing the syllabus so late.”

“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’” 

Quinn winced. 

“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.” 

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”

“You can keep complaining if you want.”

“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.” 

“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.” 

She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?” 

“It’s not like you were standing still.” 

“But you’ve been pulling me.” 

“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”

He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her. 

“Keep talking,” he encouraged. 

“About what?” 

She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter. 

“Whatever you want.”

“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.

Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me? 

“You're doing great.”

“I just fell down.”

“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”

He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened. 

He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder. 

He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform. 

“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’” 

“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.” 

Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”

“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.” 

“Look at you, learning hockey talk.” 

“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.” 

He laughed. 

She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help. 

“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.” 

Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.” 

She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together. 

Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface. 

In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice. 

Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth. 

Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect. 

Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough? 

Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.

After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong.” 

Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in. 

“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”

Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.  

It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”

Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions. 

Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his. 

This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled. 

As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

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[eoieopda]

liar, liar (jhs)

Hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x AFAB!Reader Type: Smut (18+ — EXPLICIT — MINORS DNI!) Word Count: 5K CW: Hoseok POV; cocky, fuckbuddy!Hoseok; soooo much teasing; masturbation with an audience (f); oh, the dirty talk; unprotected sex (p in v); Hoseok hits it from the back; overstimulation; squirting; multiple orgasms, etc. A/N: Inspired by some of the responses to @here2bbtstrash’s horny headcanon ask game 😈 Specifically, this and this.

Hoseok is a lot of things: a connoisseur with a dutifully refined palate; an archivist, collecting your artful nudes in a museum only his face can unlock; an absolute demon in his sexual prime. What Hoseok isn’t is a much shorter list: a goddamn idiot, though you seem to be taking him for one.

He’s not sure how he knows it — maybe he has a sixth sense for this sort of thing — but when he reads your text, telling him how wet you are for him, that’s not the way he pictures you.

Little liar that you are, Hoseok suspects that you’re half-awake in bed, going through the motions while some mindless drama plays in the background. In fact, if he knows you the way he thinks he does, you’re probably elbow-deep in a bag of kkobuk chips.

To your credit, you don’t make it obvious — not in your words, that is. You describe in poetically pornographic detail what you claim to want to do to him; and he’d be lying if he said his joggers weren’t growing increasingly tight with every little obscenity you send his way. You made one mistake, though, and Hoseok can’t let it go.

He could pick your disastrously thick, downright bite-worthy ass out of a lineup — and he knows that the picture you just sent him is one you’ve sent before.

It takes a minute for him to force his eyes off your supple skin and throw himself out of his bed, but Hoseok eventually manages. He tugs on a shirt, then a jacket for good measure, and then he stalks off towards the door to his apartment. Shoes on and keys in hand, he’s on his way to you before he can think once, let alone twice.

When he hits the sidewalk, it’s the fury of a fuck buddy scorned that propels him up four blocks to your place. Then, desperation and aching balls force him to skip the usual, friendly conversation with your doorman as he breaches your apartment building. Finally, with a bit of menace — for zest — his knuckles rap against your door. His jaw is clenched and twitching slightly when you finally answer, looking good enough to eat in your baggy sweatpants and shocked expression.

“Jay?” You squeak out your little nickname for him. Cute. Your frenzied hands then fly up to scrape fly-aways back into the bun sitting crooked on the top of your head. “What are you doing here? My place is a mess right now. I’m a mess right now — I wasn’t expecting company.”

Hoseok smirks, revels in the fact that he’s caught you red-handed, and slips past you into your apartment. Before your brain can catch up to this turn events, he gazes at you through narrowed eyes while his head cocks to one side. At first, he says nothing. He simply lets you simmer; make-up free cheeks burning maroon while your dumbstruck mouth hangs slightly open.

“So,” he snips. Your knees wobble a bit under the heat of his gaze; he knows exactly what it does to you when he plays up the assertive attitude. "It would seem that we’ve got a credibility problem, petal.”

Your mouth closes, but your eyes grow wider with the practiced, twinkling innocence only a guilty person can sell. Hoseok can hear the gears turning in your brain as you try to think up an excuse for sexting him on autopilot. Lucky for you, he’s got all the time in the world to wait while you spin your wheels over the issue.

Lucky for him, granting you leave to answer and toying with you aren’t mutually exclusive.

When he steps closer to you, you inch away until your back bumps against the wall behind you. A tiny gasp escapes; your warm breath fans out over his neck as he leans down to you. You’re not entirely chest-to-chest — not yet anyway — but the consequences your actions had on him earlier are still palpable. He knows you can feel it, too, nudging the space just above your hip bone.

Hoseok, ever the tease, takes the hem of your t-shirt between his thumb and middle finger. Running the tips along the seam there, he tugs so lightly that the movement barely registers. Even still, it’s enough pressure to make your nipples peak through the fabric — just like he’d hoped. Meanwhile, your eyes shake as you stare, unblinking, up at him.

You are so fucking pretty when you shiver.

Pulling just a little bit harder on the end of your shirt, Hoseok leans in even closer. You push up, ever so slightly, onto your toes like you’re waiting to be kissed. He wants to indulge you — he knows you know that — but he’s determined to hold the line. You whine when he turns away at the eleventh hour so that his lips instead hover below your ear.

“You had so much to say over text,” he hums as he fidgets absently with your top. “Can’t help but feel a little neglected, honestly. Where’s all that big talk now?”

With his voice dropped low like that, Hoseok wonders if you feel it vibrate against your neck. You whimper, wordlessly confirming that you do. When he eliminates whatever remains of the distance between you, the tip of his nose bumps your jaw at the same time his swollen dick presses more firmly against your abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of you swallowing down a moan.

He smirks as you shift. You’re subtle with it, but he knows what you’re trying to do — sidle up closer, get his lips to finally touch your skin. On any other day, you’d win him over in a heartbeat. You’d get him now if you used those honeyed words of yours in person.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts with a disapproving click of his tongue. Doubling down, he holds his hands up and out to the side where you can see them but not touch them, “Not laying a finger on you until you speak up.”

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as the tip of his nose once again prods your jaw. Now, that won’t do. “Not gonna give you my lips, or teeth, or tongue, either, if you can’t say that same filthy shit with your whole chest.”

What he does give you is a microscopic roll of his hips. There’s hardly friction at all — no relief. Maddeningly, it just compounds that dull ache you cursed him with. The only benefit Hoseok reaps from that tiny movement is the pout that blossoms on your face when you realize:

Playing stupid games wins you stupid prizes.

“Aren’t you curious?” His gaze drops to your lips for half a moment — long enough for you notice — then his eyes raise again to bore into yours. “About how good you could have it if you weren’t just going through the motions?”

You finally open your mouth. All he gets is his last initial, drawn out and quiet, but still so needy.

“Jay.”

“Nah,” he laughs darkly. The corner of his mouth pulls up into that smug, lopsided smile he knows will fuck you right up. “I’m Hoseok to you tonight, petal — and I don’t give a shit about the state of your apartment, or whether or not you shaved your legs.”

Your frown deepens when he backs away, but goddamn, does your face light up when he starts walking in the direction of your bedroom.

With how expressive you are, you’re unbelievably easy to tease. Any reaction Hoseok could ever want from you is broadcasted in an instant all over your sweet face. He has to bite back an endeared grin before he glances back at you over his shoulder — only to find that you’re still holding the wall up.

“Cat got your tongue and your legs? Damn!”

He’s already crossing the threshold into your bedroom when you finally take your cue to follow him. That adorable, confused crease reappears between your eyebrows when he goes for your vanity instead of the bed set up on the opposite side of your room. Grabbing the stool, he pulls it out and sits down. He then gestures languidly with his palm extended, silently inviting you to sit across from him on the edge of your mattress.

Abundantly cautious, you quietly study his face as you sink down onto your unmade bed. Your voice drips with suspicion when you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok chuckles with a shake of his head and an admittedly devilish grin. He runs his palms over the thighs of his joggers, praying he’ll be able to shed them soon — just not too soon. “That’s precisely the point, petal.”

His words clearly haven’t sunk in yet, so you cross your arms over your chest and one leg over the other. Then, you wait — albeit not patiently — for an explanation he’s not going to offer.

Hoseok tilts his head to the side as he stares back at you. On the nights when you actually expect to see him, you tend to be more dolled up than you are now. He understands that, but he can’t figure out what you meant when you called yourself a mess. You may not be wearing the fatal lingerie from that recycled photo, but that fact doesn’t make him want to unwrap the gift in front of him any less.

Doesn’t make him want to tease you any less, either.

“Well, then,” he starts simply with a shrug, “Show me.”

You might be genuinely puzzled by this, but then again, you might be fucking with him now, too. You swallow, blink back at him all slow and cute. “Show you what, exactly?”

Hoseok leans back against your vanity and rests his elbows on the tabletop. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he answers, and the way your hungry eyes follow its path isn’t lost on him. Though he won’t show his cards just yet, he’s dying to give you every sick little thing you want — so long as you open that pretty mouth of yours and speak it into existence.

Until then, he’s prepared to coax it out of you.

“Show me how you want me to touch you.”

Your eyebrows raise. That cotton candy blush sweeps over your cheeks again and it takes a conscious effort not to palm his own dick through his pants. He wonders if you taste like cotton candy, too.

A few moments stagger past while the two of you sit at an impasse, simply staring at one another in tension-riddled silence. He’s determined not to buckle, though that little pout of yours would normally have him on his knees by now. He’ll gladly be your toy any other night of the week, but this time, he’s not backing down.

With a tiny huff, you stand up on wobbly knees. Your arms cross over your stomach as you reach for the hem of your shirt, then you pull them back up slowly, taking your shirt with them. It’s not a sight he’ll ever get tired of — not one he ever takes for granted, either — watching the way your tits bounce when their only covering slips up and away.

When it really comes down to it, though, it’s what comes next that really turns him feral.

Your nimble fingers work out the knotted drawstring at the waistband of your sweatpants; Hoseok is all but drooling with anticipation. No late night photo of your ass could ever replicate the effect that the real thing has on him. There’s no comparison, no substitute. He groans without meaning to when that thick fabric slides down your silky thighs and lands with a muffled sound at your feet.

As he suspected, there’s no black lace to be found underneath. Hoseok feels validated, but more importantly, he feels his dick twitch against the confines of his pants when he sees the faint gloss of arousal on the upper-most part of your inner thighs. He tears his eyes away and follows your legs all the way down when you bend to pull your discarded sweats off your ankles.

He’s not sure if he’s capable of speech, so he doesn’t instruct you further. Instead, he opts to observe with a clenched jaw as you sit down on the edge of your bed. Once your bare ass meets the duvet, you push yourself back until there’s enough room for your legs. Your heels come to rest in front of you, but you keep your knees together — still hiding.

Really, he’s on the brink of begging. Hoseok can’t let it show, though. He fixes his dark-eyed stare on you and smirks, hoping one look is enough to prompt those perfect legs to spread. When they actually do, he swallows down a growl.

Fuck.

Your face and your pussy are tied for first, both the most angelic thing Hoseok’s ever fucking seen. Inside his mouth, he captures his tongue between the tips of his teeth to keep it to himself. There isn’t a part of you he doesn’t want to savor. Nowhere on your body he doesn’t want to nip at, suckle and mark.

Leaning your weight onto one hand, you slide the other down your navel. Then, his eyes follow it as it trails over the soft hair he’s told you a thousand times he doesn’t mind; but which is likely the reason you look so self-conscious now. Your hand stops to rest just above your clit and Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s nerves or showmanship that justifies the pause.

“Go on,” he sounds casual when he says it as if this isn’t killing him any less than it is you. “Prove that you meant what you say.”

Finally. Movement.

The tip of your middle finger dips down between your folds, and Hoseok can hear how thoroughly you’ve drenched yourself. He can hear your little mewls, too, as your fingertip wades through your wet heat, then travels back up to your clit. Slow spirals follow, underscored by breathy moans.

“Shit,” you sigh as your eyes flutter and your head falls back. Is that really all you’ve got to say? You push up slightly onto your heels, swirl your hips in microscopic circles opposite to your finger’s ministrations.

Hoseok knows it’s not enough for you. Your greedy pussy is screaming for more; he hears it loud and clear from his spot several meters away. It begs to be filled, knuckle-deep, and craves teasing pressure at an angle that’s difficult for you to meet on your own. He doesn’t move to help you, though. He just lets you try to mimic the way his longer digits make you feel.

It’s frustrating, sitting there with his hands kept to himself. If he’s not going to wield them against you, his only other instinct is to tend to the painfully hard dick leaking pre-cum inside his boxers. Unfortunately, it’s your touch he wants, not his own. Maybe if he gets you talking, you’ll unravel faster and earn a reward.

“I wanna see you finger-fuck yourself,” Hoseok’s gruff voice surprises you and causes your doe eyes to snap open. They lock in on his face, clearly flustered by his assertiveness. “Stretch that pretty pussy for me, petal. Need to know you can take it when I finally let you have my cock.”

You sound like an angel when you sigh like that. Hoseok grits his teeth and swallows hard. It dawns on him then that he may be torturing himself more than he’s torturing you. Every muscle in his body is threatening to mutiny, but he refuses to indulge their cries to move. Thankfully, you do.

As your finger penetrates your hole for the first time, Hoseok’s can’t decide which sound is his favorite: the moan that starts in the depths of your chest and only builds as it exits your mouth, or the squelch of your cunt as you tease yourself. Maybe it’s the slight squeak of the bed frame when you begin to grind down against your hand, pushing your finger in deeper towards your detonator and increasing the pressure of the heel of your hand against your clit.

You whimper his name and that settles it — that little plea is the best noise he’s ever heard. “H-Hoseok!”

At this point, he’d be quick to soothe you, rush over to gift you that orgasm you’re so desperately chasing. Instead, he stays planted in his seat, tilts his head to the side, and hums fondly, “Yes, petal? You wanna cum?”

He gets an eager, desperate nod in response which is nowhere near good enough. Please just learn your lesson so he can fuck you the way you need to be fucked. Just — “Tell me, then. I’ve read your bark; show me your bite.”

You add a second finger, and your head drops forward. The pace increases and — fuck — you’re gushing. Your arousal catches the light as it drips down the length of your fingers and pools in the palm of your hand.

Please, please, please just say what you need.

“Agh!” Your frustration peaks and you wail, panting. A sheen of sweat breaks out on your forehead, matching the slick on your collarbones. “Want to cum. Fuck, I — ah! — I need to cum so fucking bad, Hoseok, p-please. I want to feel you in my stomach. I — mmnh — need you to fill me.”

Hoseok has options. He could continue to sit there, watching you fall apart, and try not to cream his fucking pants. He could break his cardinal rule and impale you on his dick before making you cum twice first. Or, he could tag you out; take care of you and guide you right off the edge.

He gets to his feet before he even settles on a plan. The distance between you closes quickly, and then he wraps his hand around your straining wrist. You crash back against the mattress with relief washing over your face — and you have no idea what that aid is going to look like. He settles on his knees, one between yours and the other on the outside of your right leg.

“Got you, petal,” Hoseok murmurs.

His left hand cradles the back of your neck and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. As he does, his right hand slips between your thighs. You moan into his open mouth, and he swallows it. He accepts your tongue without resistance, too; the same way your pussy takes his middle and ring fingers. Thoroughly soaked, he bottoms out quickly at the knuckles.

Immediately, he angles his fingers upright, presses the tips against your g-spot, and sets a punishing pace. The babbling that pulls from you is barely louder than current below, but Hoseok gives credit where it’s due: You cry out, clear as a bell, “G-gonna make me cum all over your fingers. Feel so f-fucking good!”

And you do, hard. Your release spills over his hand and soaks the sheet underneath you as you writhe underneath him.

Hoseok kisses you, deep and desperate, but he can’t stop there. He presses his forehead against yours, looks you dead in the eye, and then he begs, “One more, petal. Gimme one more and then I’ll fuck you stupid, I promise.”

You clench your jaw tightly and nod. Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He watches your eyes screw shut, then your mouth fall open. When your second orgasm rips through you, you’re too far gone to make a sound. On otherwise dead air, it’s just the flurry of expletives tumbling out of Hoseok’s mouth and the river he’s fucked out of you.

When the aftershocks eventually peter out, you slump back on top of your doused duvet. You throw an arm over your face as you attempt to catch your breath. While you do, Hoseok’s hand finds a new occupation in caressing the curve of your hip. You can’t see the pride in his smile, but it’s there.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say cum out loud before,” He grins. Your move your arm just slightly, but it’s enough for him to see the one eye you’ve cracked open to glare at him. He gently and repeatedly taps your hip bone with the pad of his thumb until your face dissolves into a hard-fought smile. “Hot as fuck, in case you were wondering.”

You give up your hiding place and let your arm drop down beside you. Better still, you raise an eyebrow and hum, “I wasn’t, but d’you wanna know what I am wondering?”

Hoseok captures your lips in another kiss, though he doesn’t linger the way he wants to. “Sure fuckin’ do,” he says on a weighty exhale. He means it; he’s dying to hear whatever it is you’re about to say.

It’s difficult with the way you’ve melted into your bed, but you still manage to tilt your head to the side. Though he can’t know for sure, Hoseok suspects that the way your tongue glides over your kiss-bitten lips is payback for the way he’d looked at you earlier. He’s certain that this little tease looks far better on you than on anyone else — himself included.

As you speak, you pinch the hem of his shirt between your thumb and middle finger. You trace the seam, tug it with a force that barely makes the fabric flutter but still threatens to knock him out. Shit, the toll you take on him when you use his own actions against him…

“Tell me why you’re not naked yet, Hoseok,” you drawl, letting the last syllable click in your mouth. The wicked glint in your eyes makes his dick twitch; he knows you felt it jump on the top of your thigh. “You gonna fuck me stupid, or are you a liar, too?”

In a frenzy, he grabs both sides of your face and kisses you hard. You open your mouth against his, keening as he licks into your mouth. It’s now that he realizes he was right about something else, too: there’s a faint taste of kkobuk chips that barely registers when his tongue savors yours.

With a melodramatic gasp, he pulls away in order to point an accusatory finger at you, “I fucking knew it!”

It’s clear by the slight furrow of your brows that you have no idea what he’s talking about. In short order, you ignore the self-satisfied grin he’s wearing. Then, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. You pull a growl out of him in the process, “Goddamn it. I love it when you do that.”

“Hoseok!” You whine as your restless hands paw at his still-clothed chest. The pout he loves so much takes up residency on your face, shuts him right up. “Clothes off! Please, please, please — I’m dying here.”

He, a bastard, blinks down at you with the most convincing bemusement he can muster at a time like this. He asks, “Dying? For what?”

You don’t bother to respond with words this time. Lips pursed with effort, you wrap your arms around him tight and pull him all the way down on top of you. Undeterred by the weight of his body on yours, your unchecked arousal empowers you to roll until you’ve got him pinned on his back beneath you.

That look in your eyes — that feral one, where your pupils swallow up your irises — tells him everything he needs to know. He lets your rabid hands rip his shirt over his head; his hands drop down until his thumbs hook under the waistbands of his joggers and boxers in tandem. Before he can begin to tug them down, you swat his hands away and take over.

“Shit,” he hums, impressed, “Did I awaken something in you, petal?”

You shoot him a smirk and the way his unrestrained dick leaps at the sight of you makes Hoseok consider the possibility that you’re telekinetic. Amusement clear on your face, you lift a hand to run the top of your index finger along the vein trailing down his length. You shrug, suddenly nonchalant, “You wanna sit here and discuss it, or do you wanna feel that cock twitch inside of me?”

Oh, fuck.

Now unspeakably eager, Hoseok sits up until he’s face to face with you. “Turn around,” he instructs, and you listen.

Once you’re on your knees with your back to him, you lean forward and stretch your arms out on the mattress in front of you. As you wait, head down and perfect ass up, Hoseok is momentarily hypnotized by the subtle way you swivel your hips. The way your cheeks jiggle, even with the slightest shift.

“Liar and a tease,” he sucks his teeth. “You really wanna be my downfall, don’t you, petal?”

You bend your neck to look over your shoulder at him, knowing full well that he dies a thousand times whenever you stare up at him from under your lashes like that. Jesus Christ, you’re a dream. He’d pinch himself, but he doesn’t have the time; you reach back between your spread legs and take his dick in your hand.

Rolling your wrist, you work his tip at a goddamn snail’s pace like you want him to drop dead behind you. He’s unable to keep from groaning, and he can’t stop his hips from rutting forward into your fist, either. You do him the favor of squeezing the crown tighter when you finally do let him go, hand sticky with pre-cum.

“Well then,” you echo his earlier statement with that familiar twinkling innocence in your eyes, “Show me how good I can have it.”

Part of Hoseok is stalling because he knows that he won’t last long. He’s been so impossibly hard for so long now, the way you grip him will have him blacked out and drooling in a matter of minutes. However, the rules he’s made for himself dictate that you have to finish three times before he gets to. And so, with that perverted sense of duty in mind, his hand picks up where yours left off.

You both groan when his tip slides through your folds — goddamn, he wants to drown in you later — but he goes mute the second he finally enters you.

“Oh, fuck. How are you thicker than last time?” you croak because you know his ego hasn’t hit the ceiling yet. Your heads slumps down towards your elbows like you’re dead already, halfway to buried in a mess of sheets. “Swear to God, I’ll get used to this someday.”

Hoseok grins even though you can’t see him do it. The pads of his thumbs find the Venus dimples sitting pretty above your ass. It’s arrogant — he knows this — but he likes to think they were made for him, placed intentionally where his hands can find them when he gets ahold of you.

Rubbing spirals at the base of your spine, he calls, “All good, petal?”

“Fuck me,” you answer.

And he does.

The first thrust tests the waters to make sure you’re actually able to comfortably take him and it’s not simply wishful thinking on your part. You’re impatient, though, and you push your hips back when his second thrust snaps forward. For a moment, Hoseok fears he’s gone blind. Thankfully, it’s temporary; just the haze that overtakes his fucked-out brain whenever he feels your velvet walls squeezing the life out of him.

You match his movements every time he grinds himself into you. Either you’re as desperate as he is to cum, or you know his unspoken rule and intend to kamikaze dive off the edge with him in tow.

Whatever your motivation is, he can’t keep his train of thought on track — not with the way your slick has coated his balls, which slap sickly against your clit when he drives himself into you; not with the sight of your ass bouncing so deliciously against his pelvis, more so the harder he fucks you.

“Thrust are getting a little sloppy there, Hoseok,” you lilt through gritted teeth. Your teasing is interrupted by a breathless moan, but you still persist, “You about to cum, baby?”

He’s holding on for dear life — to your hips, to the last shred of his resolve. He is going to cum, but not before you do.

“N-no. Could do this all night.”

You shriek when his fingers dig deeper into your doughy flesh and slam you down onto his cock; the force of your thighs colliding with his leaves him tingling.

Two things happen in such quick succession that Hoseok doesn’t have time to process them. There’s you, creaming on his cock with a wail. Then there’s you calling him a liar as your cunt flutters around him, forcing him to empty himself completely with a toe-curling groan.

Hoseok collapses in a heap behind you when he finally finds the strength to pull his still-twitching dick out of your pussy. A potent mix of your joint release spills out of you in his absence; he’s only graced with the sight of it in the split-second before you turn around and crawl back over to him. Unceremoniously, you drop yourself into the space next to him and rest your head on his heaving chest.

“So,” he sighs, thoroughly blissed. He glances down his nose at you as he gently unsticks strands of your hair from the layer of sweat on his chest. “What did we learn about mouths writing checks?”

You try to hide your smile when you roll your eyes up at him. You sound exhausted but thoroughly amused when you respond, “Ass better be able to cash them.”

Hoseok pats your ass cheek affectionately, gives it a light squeeze for good measure. “Damn straight, petal.”

#trashlibrary #jhs #bts #jung hoseok #hoseok #hobi #hoseok smut #bts smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #hobi smut #jung hoseok smut #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #re: liar liar #jhope #bts jhope #hobi x reader #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #jade writes

[daisynik7]

“Drank In My Cup” by Kirko Bangz for Connie Springer- Comfort + Smut

The lyrics: “Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you” and “That ain't tryin' to love you baby, just fuck you instead” if that’s okay <3

Drank In My Cup

Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: friends-to-lovers trope, implied unrequited love, smut - blowjob, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (missionary), creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names.

Summary: Connie has been in love with you since college when you were living next door to each other in the dorms. He’s consoled you through countless of breakups and heard you in all your casual hookups. It hasn’t been easy for him and after graduation, he decides to move overseas in an attempt to get over you, cutting off all contact without explanation. Three years of radio silence later and the two of you finally reunite. 

Author’s Notes: Inspired by one of AugustInTheWinter’s Patreon exclusive audios. Honestly, so so good, if you have the ability to do so, subscribe to him, it is so worth the money. Anyways, thanks for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I love this song. Enjoy!

If you told Connie Springer five years ago that you wanted to spend the night, he would have agreed, no question. Today, as he anticipates your arrival, he almost regrets saying yes. 

A week ago, you contacted him, asking if you could stay at his place for the weekend while you’re here visiting. He checks the last text you sent him; it was five months ago, wishing him happy birthday. The one before that was exactly a year earlier, another birthday greeting. Your messages were more frequent then, but they gradually faded, probably because Connie never replied to any of them. 

He's not trying to be a dick. He’s just too much of a coward to admit that he’s doing his best to get over you. And if that means ignoring you completely, so be it. At what cost, though? Losing his best friend?

This time, he actually does respond to you. Maybe it’s because after three years of being apart, he finally feels ready to face you again. Tonight will be the test. Is this really the best idea for him?

You knock on his front door, weekender bag in hand, heart beating faster, excited to see him. The last time was graduation when he told you that he’d be moving away to Marley for his new job. He didn’t even tell you that he was applying to companies overseas, so of course, you were shocked. Your friendship hasn’t been the same since. You used to be inseparable; now, you’ve never felt further apart. 

He greets you politely when he answers the door, that familiar face instantly putting you at ease, despite the distance that’s grown between you. “Hey.”

“Hi, stranger,” you say, hugging him with your free arm. He’s tense when you touch him, not like his usual self. That’s one thing you always loved about Connie; how snugly he would hold you in his arms. It’s already awkward, but you continue to smile at him, hoping that whatever this tension is dissipates soon.

He leads you inside, taking your bag, setting it on the floor by one of the closed rooms. “Do you want a drink?”

“What do you have?” you ask, looking around his apartment, trying to find any remnants of your friendship. Pictures, ticket stubs from all the movies you watched together, all the little trinkets you’d get him as gifts for his birthdays. Nothing, there’s nothing in here. It barely looks decorated at all, except for a few posters he’s crookedly hung up.

“I’ve got water and some White Claws that have been festering in there since I moved here. Pick your poison.”

You laugh, happy to hear this side of him. “I’ll take the water, thanks.” You sit down on the couch, not sure where to start. “How have you been?”

He grabs a clean glass, turning the faucet on until your cup is almost filled to the brim. He carefully hands it to you, sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. You shift in your seat, facing him, waiting for his answer. “Good. I’m good,” he says, avoiding your gaze, staring at the floor instead. 

You take a sip of water, expecting him to elaborate more, but he doesn’t. “Do you like living here? In Marley?”

He shrugs. “It’s okay. There’s not that much more going on here than there is in Paradis.”

“Do you think you’ll ever move back home?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, guarded. “I don’t have any reason to, so probably not.”

“Well, I can think of one reason,” you say. “I miss you.”

His jaw clenches, defenses still up. You scoot closer, wanting this distance to disappear, physically and figuratively. You’ve been waiting for this reunion since he left, since he stopped contacting you almost completely. Wanting to finally make it right with him, the way it should have been ever since you first became close to him in college. You knew he liked you; he was always so obvious about it. And yes, deep down, you liked him too. But you were scared of ruining your friendship, of losing your best friend. You were so used to all your relationships ending in a breakup, you were afraid to cross that line with Connie in fear of losing him forever. When you finally mustered the courage to confess to him on the night of graduation, he told you he’d be moving to Marley for work. Because of your cowardice, you ended losing him anyways. But you won’t let tonight go to waste. You’ll do everything you can to salvage this. Even after all these years of distance between you, you won’t make the same mistakes again. 

You close the gap, squeezing next to him on the couch. He glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“I miss you, Connie,” you whine, trying to free his arms from his chest. “Don’t you miss me?”

He shakes his head, relaxing only the slightest bit. “No, I don’t. I’ve worked too hard trying not miss you.”

“What do you mean?”

He finally looks at you, his gaze intense. “I moved because of you. I couldn’t take it anymore, watching you fall in love with every other guy except for me.”

“Connie.”

He unclenches, leaning towards you, face so close you can feel his breath on you as he speaks. “Do you know how hard it was for me? To hear you on the other side of the wall, moaning someone else’s name? And then months later, you’d come crying to me, wanting only my comfort to help you through your breakup. Then the cycle would just repeat over and over, driving me fucking insane because I could never have you for myself. I could only have you when you needed me, when you were heartbroken. Well, it wasn’t fucking fair okay? That’s why I left. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

You stare back at him, wide-eyed, heart thumping loudly in your chest. Quietly, you say, “I’m sorry, Connie. I…I didn’t know.”

He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Why else would you come to me? You knew I was the only guy stupid enough to always say yes to you. So don’t fucking lie to me now and say that you didn’t know. You knew.”

You swallow hard before asking, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why would I? So I can get rejected and ruin our friendship? No. As much as I hated hearing you get fucked on the other side of the wall, I couldn’t stand not having you at all. Pretty fucked up, right?”

You remain still in your seat, unsure how to proceed from this. Eventually, he says, “You can stay here for the weekend, but I think it’s best if we just stop seeing each other after this, okay? It’s better for the both of us if we stop being friends.”

Before he can stand up to leave, you grab his wrist. “Well, good,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be friends anymore either.” You meet his lips with yours for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He melts into you, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, easing into it. Realizing what’s happening, he pushes you off gently, stuttering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You trail down his neck, sucking on his skin to leave love marks. “What I should have years ago.”

“You’re toying with me,” he whispers, closing his eyes, tipping your chin up to kiss you again. “Teasing me like you did all those times in college.”

“I’m not. I want it. I want you.” You lie back on the couch, spreading your legs for him. 

He crawls on top of you, sliding your pants and underwear off simultaneously, dropping them to the floor, salivating at the sight of your glistening cunt, wet with arousal. “Well, too bad. I don’t need you anymore. You won’t get what you want so easily this time. Not after all the torment you put me through. You need a taste of your own medicine first.” He shoves his sweats down, releasing his hard cock from his boxers, stroking it in his fist. With a shaky breath, he whispers, “Come on. Show me how badly you want it.”

You peer up at him, getting on all fours, opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out. He smirks, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his dick, smearing his precum on you like gloss. “Fuck, never thought I’d see you like this.” He guides himself inside you, exhaling deeply as he slides all the way to the back of your throat, cursing once more. You give him what he wants, never taking your gaze off him, guzzling down his cock with each thrust he gives you, bobbing your head along his shaft. 

“Damn, you feel even better than I imagined,” he moans, bucking his hips. After a couple more deep thrusts, you pull off quickly to catch your breath, wiping away the saliva leaking from your lips. “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks in that concerned tone you love so much. He sounds exactly like he did in college, when he would cradle you gently in his arms as you cried about your latest heartbreak, completely oblivious to how much pain it caused him to see you like this. Connie would never break your heart; it took you too long to finally realize this. And maybe it’s too late to fix the damage that’s been done. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. 

You nod silently, reaching for the coffee table to take a sip of water. He wipes the tears from your eyes, brushing them away with his thumbs. “Are you sure?”

You smile at him, sniffling. “I’m sure, Connie.”

His expression is uncertain again. He doesn’t know whether to stay mad at you or be sweet. He’s always been sweet, and that obviously never worked out for him. If he shows you his mean side, will you stay? Does he even want you to stay?

You surround him again with your mouth, sucking on his cock head with your fist wrapped around his shaft. He closes his eyes, indulging in the pleasure, enjoying it a little too much. He won’t deny it; this has been one of his biggest fantasies since college, to see you like this. To feel you moan around his cock. And as much as he wants to continue spitting hurtful comments to you, make you feel guilty for toying with him all this time, his need to pleasure you overtakes him. His most precious fantasy is to finally hear you moan his name, and no one else’s.

He pulls out of you, jerking off while he tips your chin up to face him. “What do you want, huh? Want my mouth on you? Want me to eat out this pretty pussy? Is that what you want? Because I’ll give it to you, if you let me.” He’s desperate for it now, and so are you. So all you do is nod with your mouth still open, needy for it. 

He eats you out sloppily, better than any guy you’ve been with. This is what he wanted, to prove to you that it should have been him all those times. And you regret it, all the useless hookups and casual relationships you put yourself through when you could have been with Connie instead. You come twice from his mouth before you start begging him to fuck you. “Please, baby.”

His eyes widen at the pet name, cock throbbing, ready to burst. “Okay, sweetie,” he huffs, composure wavering. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you want. I’m always giving you what you want.”

You hold him tightly, moaning his name while he fucks you with your legs wrapped around him. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fucking good for me,” he groans, drilling into you hard and fast. “I missed you so fucking much.” He orgasms with you, unloading his cum inside you, filling you up. You kiss passionately as the both of you come down from your highs, relaxing into each other’s arms. 

It’s silent for a moment before you say, “I was going to tell you. On graduation day.”

“Tell me what?” he asks, grazing your lips with his fingers.

“That I liked you, too. And I wanted us to be together.”

He sighs. “But I told you I was moving, so you didn’t go through with it.”

“Yeah.”

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Damn, we are really dumb, aren’t we?”

You giggle, nestling your face into his chest, relishing the familiar warmth. “Yeah, we are.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head, massaging your back. “So, should we stop being dumb and finally do this? The right way?”

You nod, smiling. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

#connie springer #connie springer smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #connie x you #connie x reader smut #connie x reader #connie springer x y/n #connie smut #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan connie #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

-------

You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone. 

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have. 

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.  

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received. 

 I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now. 

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend. 

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident. 

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin. 

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have. 

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency. 

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander. 

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees. 

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain. 

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen. 

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all. 

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares. 

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house. 

“Baby?” 

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise. 

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.” 

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore. 

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”  

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again. 

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.” 

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?” 

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge. 

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.” 

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!” 

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know. 

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“What happened to my wedding ring?” 

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him. 

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?” 

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.” 

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head. 

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.” 

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.” 

“I was.” 

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.” 

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart. 

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face. 

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.” 

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent. 

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response. 

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice. 

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips. 

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes. 

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.  

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession. 

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband. 

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. 

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-” 

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.” 

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him. 

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.” 

—------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice. 

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?” 

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.” 

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be. 

“When’d you get this one?” 

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.” 

“What?” 

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his. 

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side. 

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it. 

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.” 

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it. 

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger. 

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Nat?” 

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.” 

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?” 

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?” 

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones. 

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.” 

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.” 

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you? 

“She’s going to be okay.” 

“But-” 

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.” 

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too. 

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air. 

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.” 

“You aren’t going to.” 

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it. 

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse. 

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name. 

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly. 

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm 

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room. 

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.” 

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side. 

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side. 

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away. 

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives. 

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view. 

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.” 

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.” 

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him. 

“And you are…?” 

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again. 

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question. 

“Is she okay?” he repeats. 

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat. 

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold. 

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no. 

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.” 

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more. 

“Sit down, honey.” 

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.” 

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him. 

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” 

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.” 

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back. 

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.” 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too. 

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him. 

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head. 

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him. 

“I promise,” you finally whisper. 

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in. 

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask. 

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease. 

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair. 

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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[jhugas]

‘Film yourself for me.’- Park Jimin

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Genre: smut

Pairing: bf! Idol! Jimin X afab! Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend misses you while he’s on tour, and he needed one thing from you…

Word count: ~1,5k

Warnings/tags: freaky FaceTime, masturbation (m&f), clit play, fingering, mention of creampie, they cum 2gether, eye contact, nicknames like ‘good girl’-‘baby’…

Ps: this was inspired by the fake sub of his vlive ‘film yourself for me’.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Your boyfriend is so far from you, he had left a week ago for his World Tour and he’s currently in Los Angeles.

He asked you if you wanted to come with him, but his parents insisted that you should come to Busan and enjoy little vacations. Moreover, they said they’d make you visit beautiful places here, like they do every time.

So after talking with Jimin, you thought it’d be better to spend some time in Busan and with his family.

Today you spent the whole day with Jimin’s father. First, he brought you to his cafe and offered you thousands of drinks and bakeries. Then, he brought you to his friends’ restaurant for dinner, where you were able to talk with Jimin’s father along with his mother.

They both loved you very much, so much that all they talked about the whole night, was you and Jimin’s future.

‘So, when will he propose?’

‘Your babies will be the cutest!!’

‘Don’t tell me he never bought any ring!!’

‘I love how cute you are, you are the perfect woman for my son~’

And so on…

They were the cutest though, supporting you no matter what and defending you all of the time.

Since they always wanted a daughter but never got one, they considered you their ‘heart daughter’.

Their biggest dreams were attending yours and Jimin’s wedding, and seeing your kids grow up.

And now you’re back to your place, a luxury apartment in front of the gorgeous Busan beach, that Jimin rented just for you.

He was so caring, always making sure you were safe and comfortable. He couldn’t help but buy you luxury things to make you the happiest possible. Indeed, he loves to spoil you.

But you know what else he loves? Getting spoiled by you, in any way possible. And tonight, he FaceTimed you and said ‘film yourself for me.’

It wasn’t the first time he asked you things like this, so it wasn’t a surprise, especially when you know that he can’t stay away from you for more than five hours without missing you.

In the FaceTime, he had his shining blond hair, black tshirt and an obvious smirk on his face. He also had this raspy, flirty voice he uses to get you.

He adds after ‘Don’t forget to not mute baby, I wanna hear your pretty voice and whimpers. And don’t be shy to be loud…’

His voice is deep and quiet, almost whispering to you, still with this smirk and siren eyes.

These moments felt so intimate.

It’s just the way you trusted each other so much that you’d ask and send nudes to each other that made you feel butterflies.

He has never leaked anything, saved anything without your consent, nor shared them with anyone. He was truly a person of trust, and in exchange, he sent you his.

Waking up at 3am just to see that Jimin has sent you a picture of his dick in erection, or a video of him busting a nut, was the best feeling.

His dick somehow, was the only one that didn’t repulse you.

It had an amazing shape, perfect proportions and had pretty colours, it just looked so clean and tasty.

And you loved to touch it, it felt too good under your touch.

You now decide to set up the phone against the pillow in selfie while Jimin watches you in FaceTime, and get in front of it. After you heard his request, your mind went wild and you could feel yourself already getting wet, you missed him a lot.

You place yourself as far as needed to fit your head and ass in the same frame, and look at Jimin one last time before turning your back to him, and sliding your fingers in your pants, before pushing them down teasingly to slowly reveal your ass, involuntarily making it jiggle.

Then, you took them off entirely and started playing with the lace of your panties. You sensually swayed your hips left and right as you pulled them up, making them enter in between your cheeks, before finally pulling them down and exposing your bare ass as you still had your top on.

You don’t forget to bend over right after, making him see your asshole and pussy with your cheeks wiggling on their own.

‘Such a good girl…’ he says under his breath. He loved to praise you in these moments.

‘All open and naked for me…’ he says after you brought your ass closer to the camera.

Now that you’ve revealed your ass successfully, you turned back to face the camera, and slowly opened your legs, giving Jimin a better look at your wet cunt.

You wanted to start slowly, grabbing your thighs, caressing close to your pussy and getting closer and closer to it, but you couldn’t lose any more time. You spread your lips with your fingers, then finally brought them where you needed them the most, your clit.

You draw small circles on it, gathering your wetness from your cunt then bringing them back to your clit.

Meanwhile, your eyes are slowly closing from the pleasure, but when you opened them again and looked up, you saw something you deeply needed, Jimin massaging his boner through his pants.

‘Having fun, sir?’ You tell him with a smile on your face.

‘Of course princess.’ He answers in a second.

So you keep going, making circles and swaying your fingers left and right on it to change.

The heat in between your legs is growing, and the need to be filled gets bigger. Right now you’re getting so much pleasure that your legs are closing by themselves despite them getting weaker and weaker.

You moan quietly, trying not to rush things… but it’s hard when Jimin’s looking at you like he could eat you raw. He looks at you with his pretty eyes traveling from your face to your pussy, with his plump lips parted and his hot breath sliding in between them.

‘Don’t do this to me…’ he says breathlessly.

‘Do what?’ you ask him.

‘Don’t try to be quiet like that… I know you can be louder. Express yourself baby. Your moans are the hottest things in the world.’ he says in his husky voice.

You answer a shy ‘m’kay…’ and get back to your business while your orgasm gets closer and closer.

But Jimin caught your attention again when he let a ‘fuck baby…’ leave his lips as he got his cock out, giving you a free show.

His cock was full and ready, screaming for some relief and touch, but it knows nothing will ever get close to how your pussy feels like.

Then he started pumping himself, spreading his precum on his length as he holds it as tight as your cunt feels like.

You moan at his facial expression, oh how you wished you could capture his wet lips shivering and him rolling his eyes back.

‘You’re so hot…’ slips out of your lips, almost bleeding because of how hard you’re biting them.

‘Need more… I need…’ you also manage to say. You need something inside you, something big that’ll fill you, and you what used to do that? Jimin’s cock.

It filled you up entirely, stuffing his cum in your cunt repeatedly with his tip.

‘Put them inside you, slide your fingers in.’ He orders behind his screen, his hand moving faster and his tip getting redder, as he quickly takes off his tshirt.

You immediately listen and get your fingers close to your entrance, teasing the edge and sliding in the tip of them first, before sliding them entirely and pushing them in and out while fantasizing about his dick.

You reach your sweet spot with your sweet fingers, and hit it continuously, your orgasm getting closer and stronger each second.

‘Ugh-I’m close… let’s cum together baby…’ Jimin says with the strength he has left, his balls screaming for relief as his precum drips down his cock from his soaking wet tip.

‘Yes…’ you say with a higher voice than usual, your walls tightening around your fingers.

Your moans are shamelessly loud, and so are Jimin’s. The only words that were leaving his mouth till he came was your name accompanied by some swear words.

And here is the moment you wanted for so long, too long now. Your orgasm reaches your brain, and you cum hard all over your fingers making it drip down from your hole.

Meanwhile, you keep eye contact with Jimin, as his hair falls on his forehead and his thick white cum reaches his stomach, then slides down his length to his balls.

Your eyes close by themselves but you know Jimin needs to see you looking at him so you try your best to stay awake, before finally coming down from your high, and collapsing down on the bed.

He’s still watching you carefully, making sure he gets his entire load out, before him too, slowly calming down.

‘That’s my good girl, isn’t it?’ he asks in a deep voice.

‘It is… I’m yours…’ you whisper back.

Later, he cleaned his cum off of his stomach, dick and bed, wished you good night and sweet dreams, then said ‘I love you.’ before leaving the call.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are very nice and appreciated. Thank youuu

Masterlist

#bts #army #fanfic #scenarios #imagine #one shot #smut #bts fanfic #jimin #Jimin smut #Drabble #Jimin Drabble #Jimin one shot #Jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin x y/n

[blindmagdalena]

Omg could you maybe do “The sun rising over the horizon as they chat through the night” with homelander and maybe venus!reader? A standard reader would be wonderful too though ☺️

ohhh, venus!reader!!! it's been too long since i thought about her! yes, absolutely. 🖤

homelander x reader. dialogue from this list of newly wed prompts. reader is the supe Venus, a Poison Ivy inspired superhero. ❤️🌿 1.3k and 18+ for saucy imagery and some heavy petting, but no outright smut. mostly a sentimental affair.

Intimacy is a strange word. It’s the sort that can be used to describe the closeness of a wide variety of different relationships, be they platonic or romantic. It strikes Homelander that he’s had very, very few relationships that he would classify as truly intimate.

But that’s what this feels like right now. You lay atop him, nothing but skin between your bodies. It isn’t just your shared nakedness that makes this intimate, though.

It’s the tenderness in your eyes as you gaze down at him through heavily lidded eyes, lips curved in a gentle smile. It’s the way you tilt your head at the same time he lifts his hand, knowing he intends to stroke your cheek with his knuckles well before he does it. It’s the way you sigh the warmth of your breath onto his lips.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time where he couldn’t stand you: at least, that’s what he thought it was. You had a way of putting him off balance, agitating him in ways few people could. There were times when he wanted to throttle you for the ease with which you would brush him off.

It turned his world upside down when he realized you’d been flirting with him the whole time.

“What’re you thinking about?” You ask idly, leaning against his hand. He adjusts his hand to support your cheek in his palm, rubbing his thumb along the rise of your cheek.

“You,” he answers, smiling at how you scrunch your nose.

“What about me?” You press, turning your head to kiss his palm.

He inhales a slow breath through his nose, exhales a little raspberry. “You and me. Where we are, how we got here.”

“Well,” you begin, folding your arms to rest them atop his chest. “It all started this afternoon when I sent you a picture of a blooming Middlemist Red–the rarest flower in the world, I’ll remind you–and you texted back ‘Not The Petals I’m Thinking About Spreading,’ which, inexplicably and against all logic, made me incredibly horny. So, I came home, took off all your clothes and rode you stupid.”

As you speak, a grin slowly spreads across Homelander’s face. “Wow. You got it bad, huh?”

“I married you, didn’t I?” You give back, quirking a brow.

“Ch’yeah, but even so. Sheesh. Embarrassing.” “I’m going to kill you,” you say through a smile, turning to bite his hand. He laughs as you chew ineffectually on it, continuing to stroke your cheek regardless. 

“Yeah? I think this approach is gonna take you awhile,” he muses, watching as you gnaw at the meat of his hand just below his pinky.

Letting his hand go with a soft pleh noise, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I intend it to. At least a solid fifty years. You’ll suffer real slow. That’s why they use spoons instead of knives to torture people, you know. It hurts more when it’s dull,” you say, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Fifty years, huh? That’s it?” He asks, wiping your own spit on your shoulder. “You know we’re probably gonna live a lot longer than that, right?”

“Yeah, well, you never know what the divorce rates will be like in the future. You know what the leading cause of divorce is, right?” You ask, refolding your arms, resting your chin atop them.

“We’re not getting divorced,” he says, unwilling to entertain the thought even playfully.

“The leading cause of divorce is marriage,” you say very seriously anyways.

“You are… so incredibly lame,” he says, voice heavy with the severity of his accusation.

“And yet,” you say, wiggling your ring finger.

He takes your hand and pulls it to his lips, kissing that inconspicuous little gold band. It matches his wider band perfectly. “And yet,” he echoes by way of agreement. “Hard to believe I finally pinned you down.”

“Oooh,” you purr, brows lifting. “Tell me more about how you pinned me down.”

“You’re done for now. Shackled. Legally bound,” he expounds, smoothing his hands down the curves of your body, sinking his grip into the soft swell of your ass. You laugh, moving your hands to kiss his chest just above the beat of his heart.

“Mmm, see, I recall our honeymoon differently. I remember you being the one all tied up,” you say, a wicked glint in your eyes.

True. You surprised him with that one, ensnaring him in a tangle of vines and keeping him like that for hours under the narrative of “breaking him in.” It had worked, rocked his world so hard that the thought alone was enough to send a hungry pang all the way to his core, despite having just thoroughly had you. It isn’t as though he can ever get enough. You’re intoxicating.

He inhales deeply, savoring the rich smell of you. You always have the lingering scent of blossoms and sandalwood on your skin, remnants of your powers woven into every fiber of your being. It gives you a sense of wildness, leaves him feeling as though he’s laying claim to you every time he touches you. 

“I love you,” he says, eyes soft, utterly drunk on the feeling. He watches how easily those three simple words disarm you, draining the slyness from your eyes and replacing it with a tenderness reserved exclusively for him. For as much as the world thinks it knows you, it never will. Not the way he does. Let them go on believing you’re part hero, part villainess, that all your stems are barbed with thorns. He’ll keep the truth of your softness a secret for his hands alone. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, cupping either side of his face as you close in to kiss him properly, parting his lips with your tongue to taste, to feel, to consume. There is a hunger in you that mirrors his own, each of you taking bites of the other without ever truly growing full or satisfied. 

He realized a long time ago that no amount of you would ever be enough, and that was when he knew he had to make you his forever. The rings on your fingers are just a small token of that. It’s the scars you carve into each other’s hearts that scream the true nature of your love.

Time melts away in the wake of your presence in his. You make him laugh, bringing him the kind of peace he’d only ever dreamed of. There is an ease that comes about when you truly love someone, when you can not only show them your deepest darkness, but your most nonsensical self. He’s never afraid that you will laugh at him. He knows unconditionally that you only ever laugh with him. When he is vulnerable, you bring sobriety. When he is afraid, you don armor.

In the span of a single night, you are his lover, his rival, his spouse, his menace and his dearest friend. The two of you are so wholly consumed by one another, neither of you realize that the night has ended until the dawn comes crawling in through the windows.

“God, what time is it?” You ask, dumbstruck by the encroaching light.

“I don’t care,” Homelander answers unhelpfully, tugging you back down into his arms. “Fuck it, let’s stay in bed all day, sleep through it. I like the night better anyways. No one to bother us,” he says, kissing a line up your throat. “Let’s play hooky.”

You sigh through a smile, carding your fingers through his hair. “You know that I’m supposed to be the bad influence, right?”

“Step up your game, then,” he says, sucking a mark at your neck that threatens to bruise. The way you shiver against his tongue is fucking delicious. “Be worse.”

He inhales sharply at the firm press of your hand slipping between his legs.

“If you insist,” you say, feigning exasperation. He grins broadly.

Who ever said honeymoons had to end?

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander #i might have gotten a little drunk halfway through writing this lmao #these were supposed to be short fills but i definitely got carried away #i love venus!reader!!! thank you!!! #ask and you shall receive #my writing #ivy league