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#i mean it’s got a lot of other more pressing issues
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Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost
Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.
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Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.
He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.
He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.
He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).
He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.
He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.
In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.
That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.
Telemarketers.
He never got telemarketers on his pager.
He hated telemarketers.
But that didn't mean he blocked them-
"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.
An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."
Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.
So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.
"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"
Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"
As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...
But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.
His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.
"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.
"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.
"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.
"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.
For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.
"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"
"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.
"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.
"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.
"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"
"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.
You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.
He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.
"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.
"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.
"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.
He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...
Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...
Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...
Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.
"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.
"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.
"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.
"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.
Huh.
There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.
No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...
But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-
"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.
Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.
"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.
Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.
After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.
You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.
He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.
"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.
"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.
"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.
Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...
It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.
"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.
"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.
"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.
"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."
Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.
"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.
Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"
Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"
"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.
You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.
"You're very frustrating." You murmured.
"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.
"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.
"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.
"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.
Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.
That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.
"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.
"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."
"And how did you know that?"
"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."
"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.
"No, I already knew you were trolling me."
"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"
"That's exactly it, Aiden."
"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."
"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I know what I was doing."
"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.
You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.
"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.
"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."
Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."
"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.
"And why's that?"
"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.
"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.
Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."
"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.
"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.
You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.
It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.
"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.
"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"
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atinylittlepain · 1 day
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Little Pinch
nurse!marcus pike x f!reader
she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.
wordcount | 3.3K
content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls
a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless
..........................................................................
Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 
It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 
The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 
If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 
“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 
“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 
“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.
“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 
“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 
“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.
“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”
“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 
“Do you live around here?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 
“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.
“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 
“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 
“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”
“Do you have a golden retriever?”
“What?”
“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 
“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 
“Great name.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?
“Alright, that’s the last one.”
“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.
“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 
“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 
“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–
“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 
“You feeling okay?”
“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 
“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 
“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you had to deal with that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”
“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 
“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 
“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 
“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 
“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 
“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 
“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 
“Ma’am?”
“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.
“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 
“How have you been since we– you, well–”
“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 
“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 
“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”
“No?”
“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”
“I was not nervous.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”
“What thing?”
“The pretty thing.”
“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 
“So, you do live around here then?” 
“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”
“I do.”
“Nice, nice.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Wow.” 
“What? I’m making conversation.”
“You’re still not very good at it.”
“I’ll keep working on it for you.”
“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”
“What kind do you think I get?”
“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”
“Somehow I feel insulted.”
“Well.”
“You’re not even right either.” 
“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 
“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 
“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 
“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”
“Thank you, thank you.” 
“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”
“Yeah, we’re not bad.”
“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”
“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 
“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 
“I might be free on Saturday.”
“I might also be free on Saturday.” 
“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”
“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 
“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 
“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 
“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.
“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 
“Kinda weird, you know.”
“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”
“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”
“So, Saturday?”
“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 
81 notes · View notes
safetypinxtales · 4 months
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Together with you | Azriel
(Lonely with you pt. 2)
summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.
words: 4.1k
warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love
notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!
part 1
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Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty. 
Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you. 
It was humiliating. You were humiliated.
And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity. 
You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise. 
Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below. 
There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince. 
He was beautiful.
You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you. 
You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?
You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s. 
-
It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit. 
You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart. 
You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated. 
The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name. 
You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him. 
There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed. 
“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you. 
“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting. 
He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,”  he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?
“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–
“Angel, please look at me.” 
You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel. 
Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?” 
You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”
“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.
“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.
“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.
“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”
You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.
Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm. 
“Wait–,”
“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!” 
His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself.  Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.
He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay. 
-
The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.
“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.
“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.” 
Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.
You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands. 
“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard. 
“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.
This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.
“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you. 
“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers. 
Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.
Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.” 
She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung. 
However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt. 
But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved. 
“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.
“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. 
After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.
Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.
The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was. 
He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always. 
Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel. 
Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.
That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.
“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.
Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.
“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”
“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”
You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…
“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth. 
Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”
“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest. 
“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack. 
“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch. 
Only he didn’t. 
Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.
“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.
“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.” 
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 
After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.
You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.
Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you. 
The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened. 
Azriel is your mate.
Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate. 
Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you. 
“You’re my–,” you stuttered.
“Yes,” he breathed in response.
“I– I’m your–”
“Yes,”
“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.
“Yes,”
You had to sit down. 
You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you. 
He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.
“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them. 
Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel. 
“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.
“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond. 
A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed. 
He loved you. 
He was your mate and he loved you.
“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.” 
You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself. 
“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”
A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great. 
You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed. 
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.” 
His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his. 
His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways. 
The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body. 
This.
You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever. 
-
You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body. 
Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.
“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 
Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.
“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”
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tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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This is more of an anime trope then a fairy tail one but how do you think the TWST dorm leaders would react to a kiss that happens by accident, where the Reader maybe trips or somehow crashes into them? Would they kiss back, blush, try to make a joke a brush it off?
Definitely a more anime trope but one that I like when its done well.
Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, kissing, confessions, teasing, protectiveness
A/N: Anime tropes, just like any other trope, can be a lot of fun if done right. So here are some of my favorite outcomes for this one.
Riddle blushes hard from embarrassment that someone saw this happen. He grabs you by the shoulders and looks around frantically, his hands trembling as much as his lips are. He's wide eyed, almost shaken up from the sudden kiss. Why did it have to happen like this? He'd been meaning to kiss you, he was planning to ask you on a date. Now its all out of order. Ah, whatever, he can adapt, he will adapt. As soon as he gets his heart to calm down.
Leona would tease you about how damn clumsy you are. What if he wasn't there to catch you? You're lucky you're so cute so he has a interest in you, otherwise this wouldn't go unpunished by him. Stealing a kiss from him, he can't have that now can he. He needs to steal it back. In a blink of an eye its no longer him whose on the ground but you, witch his smirking face inching ever closer as you close your eyes and accept his lips on yours.
Azul asks you to be more careful in the future. He was here for you now but he might not be next time. He's not mad about the kiss, really he isn't, he just wants you to make sure this doesn't happen with anyone else. To make sure of that he'll just have to stick close to you from now on. He's not gonna just go past the kiss either, wanting another one every time he keeps you from falling. Consider it his payment, a trade, a deal if you will.
Kalim would freak out that you got hurt. The moment your lips part he'd look you over for injuries. As much as he'd try to he wouldn't be able to stop himself from glancing at your lips with want, longing to repeat the kiss but too shy to ask. You notice him looking, apologetic for giving him trouble like this. It's no issue for him, he's just glad that you're alright. When he's done and he tells you he found no injuries you give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, flustering both of you even more.
Vil thinks this is your confession to him, a bold one at that, he's impressed, so he kisses you back, pressing you against the nearest wall. His hands were already on your hips and there was no resistance on your end, so he found no reason to stop kissing you. You're more slick then he thought you know that? That's worthy of his respect and his attention. And since you already took the first step he will take the next: would you do him the honor of having dinner with him tonight?
Idia would pull his hood up to hide you both from view. He's pretty embarrassed about your first kiss happening like this and he'd rather not have it seen by literally everyone. He makes it seem like it wasn't a big deal and he just happened to catch you while you fell, doesn't even say anything about the kiss until you're in the privacy of your dorm room. You really should be more careful you know, he tries to scold you but he can't help but want to kiss you again so he can't get his voice to sound stern, rather it sounds extremely flustered, matching you when you ask if you can say sorry with another kiss.
Malleus is extremely shocked by your kiss. He's got his arms around you and you can hear his heart beating out of his chest like a drum. He's been pining for you for a while, he's wanted to do this for a while, to hold you and kiss you and whisper that he loves you into your ear. That wasn't supposed to slip out like it just did but now that his confession is out in the open already, what do you say, do you want to give him a chance? He'll gladly give you more kisses if you say yes.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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Jungkook
X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 3
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If you gave him your heart, your soul, your body- what would he do to those things? Maybe it's time to see if he can handle your love for once, and not just the other way around.
Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, mild Angst, fluff, slow burn but we'regetting somewhere, they have mad chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), Outercourse (basically non-penetrative sex except with a dildo), toys, Cumplay, it's messy smh, hand kink? Increased authority from kook
Length: ~5k words
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡
A/N: you'll never be able to imagine how much I struggled reconnecting with this fic. This was torture. I hated this fic so much at some point. I'm not proud of this part but if I don't get this out I'll never be able to continue this series.
-> Masterlist
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
Jungkook has really nice hands.
Not just in a sensual or sexual sense, but in general. They're big but not intimidating, because the way he uses them is never in a mean or hurtful way. They're soft, and kind, and they also look very nice. Masculine, and strong, veins underneath the skin sometimes a bit more visible than other times, but they also hold a certain softness to them. His nails are well taken care of, only his thumb sometimes giving you a hint of a nervous habit.
They're uniquely Jungkook. Rough, but not to be feared. Gentle, but with the potential to lead. Capable. Handsome.
They're his main way of exploring your skin too- his fingers often used to make shivers run up your spine, palms warm as they feel every curve of you. He doesn't need to look at what he's doing ever it seems like, hands having minds of their own every time they touch you.
Like a separate entity almost, listening obediently to their master's command.
You slowly wake up from your nap, feeling actually refreshed, when Jungkook walks in from the door, giving you a hint to what must've woken you up. "Oh- You're up." He smiles, walking closer with a plastic bag, though his first mission is to press his hands into the softness of the couch before he kisses your cheek. "Here- let me show you something." He impishly chuckles, sitting down on his shins, before he opens the bag on the bed.
You're in a state of shock for a good moment, not even having noticed him move.
He's got the audacity to laugh over your shoulder, front pressed into your back, hands teasing your sides as they sneak up your loose shirt.
"Bought one that's about my size." He purrs sensually, almost like he's mocking you. But it's not malicious- playful, if anything, but not mean in any way. "So you can call it.. practice." He explains, while you stare at the nearly clear pink dildo that's staring at you, still packaged together with other things in the black plastic bag in your lap.
"Jungkook.. when did you even buy those things?" You wonder, feeling almost scared to touch any of the things inside.
"Earlier, when you were napping." He shrugs easily, hand reaching past your body to shamelessly dump the contents of the bag on the bed, bag flying somewhere on the floor. "Anything look like an absolute no-go to you?" He asks curiously, and you look without touching.
There's an egg-shaped item there you're not too sure of what it might be. The dildo explains itself, clearly- and the other massage wand is also pretty self-explanatory. There's two bottles of lube- one pink, the other blue. A.. plug, with a pretty pink gemstone on one end of it. Leather handcuffs, with soft looking fur on the inside. Overall, nothing immediately makes you uncomfortable.
You don't know what gives you the confidence for your next comment you blurt out though. "Don't you have any toys?" You ask him bluntly. "Like, for yourself? Or do you just.. use your partner's body for stuff?" You wonder, and he looks at you with a sharp gaze, a smirk growing on his lips.
"I wouldn't mind using your body, that's for sure." He flirts, leaning his head a bit to the side. "Why would I need toys if I've got you?" He fakes innocence as he asks that question without expecting any answer- And for a moment, you don't give one.
But something about his flirty comment bothers you.
Maybe because you hear someone else in your head again- all the men who've degraded you over the course of time. Your ex. Your friends. Your father. You hear them laugh yet again like you're pathetic and worth nothing.
"I don't want to be used." You deny with a flat tone, and it's clear from the slight change in his eyes that he's now on high alert at your every word spoken by mouth and body language, so he can figure out what happened to change your mood like that. "I don't just want to be.. a toy you get bored off and toss away at some point just to pick it back up once you're interested again." You say, drawing a clear line.
You're not sure how he might react to this. You didn't want to make a statement like that, but you can't mask the truth. You really are scared of getting hurt at the end of this- you don't want him to just play around and then let you go.
You don't want to go. You want to stay- You want him to want you to stay.
He says your name to gain your attention, voice low and steady, horribly gentle- and it makes your eyes sting as you realize that this is the first time a man has ever spoken in such a tone to you. He notices the way your eyes begin to gloss over- and it hurts him too, the fact that you're hurting.
"This isn't just something fun to me. I think I might not have made it clear." He says, staying away from you as to not invade your little bubble you're in, letting you have your safety. "I don't know what happened to you in the past to be so full of distrust towards anything good offered to you-" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "-but I promise you, this isn't just a game to me."
"Then what is this." You say quietly, scared. "I'm scared that we're not on the same page here and that we're walking down to entirely separate paths." You complain pitifully with your back hunched over and head hanging low.
"That's because we are." He chuckles softly. "I'm trying to hold your hand here so we don't lose each other- but you're not holding it." Jungkook offers.
"I don't understand-" you shake your head, when as you look up again, his face is right in front of yours, eyes looking at your lips.
"Then let me help you." He hums towards you, before his lips press onto yours. And your body freezes.
Because he's never kissed you like this before- tender, calm and without any lust in it whatsoever. In fact, your realize only now that you've never been kissed without any hidden intentions or something to gain in mind. This kiss is soft, it's no words needed, it's love confessed in physical form. You've never been kissed like this. Ever.
And even more so, you're pretty sure he hasn't actually kissed you at all either- not until now, at least.
And it's all so confusing now, because you want to trust him, you want to just lean into him and let him have his way with you- but the fear inside you is still there, clutching your limbs, leaving you with no way to move anywhere- neither away from him, nor closer. You're currently stuck in place, and it's only a matter of time until he grows tired of you and your constant push and pull behavior.
You're hurting him, you know this.
Especially because you're kissing him back, giving him hope for something you might not be able to give him. You're cruel, aren't you? And the worst is that he probably knows even that.
Because once you start to cry, once you sob and cling to him like a touch-starved pet, letting all of those pent up emotions out because who cares, he doesn't say anything, doesn't ask what's wrong. He just holds you, gives you that moment, keeps your pieces collected in his palms for you to put back together later with his help. And you're not sure how many times you can do this.
Or how long he's willing to participate in this.
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Since Jungkook didn't make a move the entire morning, you've been spending it entertaining yourself as to not get bored. Not in a sexual way-
but by simply trying to see how strong his patience is.
It's a new feeling you've developed after just two days of being with him- confidence, and trust in that he won't ever hurt you whatsoever. No consequences he could come up with would ever truly put you in harms way, you absolutely believe in that. But what's disappointing was how he didn't ever get past a clench of his jaw, or a tilt of his head. He'd just.. let you do whatever, and never do anything to somehow discipline you.
It made you wonder. Is he even such an intimidating 'Dom' at all, or did he just make that up?
However, after talking about it after lunch, he's finally opened up to you too- having told you that he's gonna trust you too, that he'll be more open with you and his own desires, while you'll have to be honest about when he's going too far or too fast. And you agree- you want him to trust you too, want him to relax more around you as well.
After all, he wants to get to know you too, right? Not just the other way around.
What you did not take into account though, is that now, your actions actually will have consequences- and he will indeed put you back into your place in one way or another. And even if in that very moment where you piss him off he isn't reacting- he will remember those actions to remind you of them, later, when you don't even expect it.
Just like now, as he's finished some calls he had to make, finally finding time again for you. "I'm sorry- I technically told the studio not to contact me on my break." He hums into your hair, as you sit with him on the small sofa in his office, having practically demanded his attention back on you the moment he'd put his phone down, and he'd been visibly amused by it. Unbeknownst to you, he's more than just excited- after all, it feels like your week is finally gaining traction, as you no longer step around in the dark trying to navigate around obstacles that aren't even there.
He's just been too scared to scare you. But by now, it's clear that you're not. And it makes him eager to explore now that he can actually see where he's going with you.
There's a hand under your shirt, cropped top and cotton shorts nothing more than decoration really, considering he's already seen you naked. It's nothing too sensual technically- but at this point, you feel like something might be wrong with you. Because even a simple touch like this makes you.. needy.
He reaches over to the side, plastic bag rustling- and now you're actually starting to get antsy. Because there's only one bag next to the couch- the one that's containing all the different items Jungkook had bought this morning as he'd told you. And that's exactly what he's grabbing for it seems like, as he moves his arms a little to take out one of the items you weren't too sure about- already unpacked for some reason, as he holds it out for your hand to take.
"What is that?" You ask, fingers running over the smooth, silicone surface, while he chuckles behind you, since you're still halfway laying against his chest.
"Something I always wanted to try." He simply jokes. "It's really fun, according to a friend of mine. I've never used it with anyone before, but I think you might like it.." He hums, taking the toy away from you again, before his free hand pats your thigh once. "..scoot to the side for me, yeah?" He asks, and you do so, sitting next to him now while watching how he finally reveals what this.. object might be used for.
He has to adjust the belts multiple times to fit around his thigh, plastic clipping into place, before his eyes find yours, lips turned into a suspicious smirk. "Alright.." He starts, leaning back against the couch, and it's obvious that he's now demanding respect and most of all, your obedience. He points at a spot in front of him, and without words, you know exactly what he wants you to do, his expression one of almost.. pride, as he watches you stand in front of him, instinctually knowing what to do.
"Undress." He simply says, a straightforward command that you follow easily, because shame is something that you refuse to let yourself feel. He's not one you need to be hesitant with- he's promised you his honesty, after all, and he's promised you that even if things get awkward, it'll never change his view on you.
And his view of you is one of love, that's very clear to see and feel.
So it's not weird to stand in front of him all bare, clothes on a small pile next to your feet now, as he smiles. "Come here." He urges with a softer voice, having clearly realized that you've accepted his invitation into a scene now- for the first time not having needed any cues. "Take a seat, princess." He almost teases, and you do so, sitting on the soft silicone toy hugging his thigh.
It's pastel colored, multiple hues swirling together into one another, creating wave like patterns. "There you go... So pretty." He chuckles, hands running over the length of your arms, causing goosebumps to erupt from the sensation of his warm palms. He's feeling your skin a lot more sensually now, clear intentions as he touches your hips and waist, thumbs almost massaging the skin of your lower stomach, moving from the inside towards your hipbones before repeating the action.
His hands are so close to where you'd love to have them, and yet, you try and be patient. Because if you're good, he'll reward you, right?
It doesn't take long for you to notice the way your arousal makes movement a lot easier- your core by now slipping around with every little jerk of your hips, making you anxious to move more. And finally, as his fingers grip your hips, he gets into a more comfortable position himself- the unoccupied leg casually stretched out, while his back rests against the sofa, giving him a good position to watch you. "Show me how those hips can move." He urges, and you instantly take that invitation, slowly moving to test the waters.
You don't care what you look like, or about the wet sounds coming from the toy between your legs- because the feeling is insane.
He clearly let's you enjoy yourself for now, giving you free reign to figure out yourself how you like it. Your hips are squirming from side to side, ridges and bumps of the toy an odd but definitely pleasant sensation as you roll your core over it, uncaring of your arousal already leaking onto his grey sweatpants.
And neither does he care.
Watching you chase your own pleasure on his leg is just such a treat to witness- especially when he holds onto you, before he lifts his foot, forcing you down onto the toy without any warning, earning a surprised whimper from between your lips as he lets you down- just to repeat the motion a couple of times, simply to entertain himself. You're just too cute, even while doing such a sinful act. And especially when you clearly reach your orgasm is when he truly can't help himself-
hands guiding your hips to keep moving despite your clear sensitivity, just to see you struggle a little, thighs trembling and hands gripping his arms.
He's letting you lean against him, hips occasionally moving just a little, clearly still needy to feel more- and he's actually quite surprised when your hand curiously runs over the inside of his thigh, hesitating just shy of his very obvious erection that's only somewhat contained in his underwear and sweats. "You can touch me, you know?" He chuckles, making you look up at him. "I'm all yours." He tells you, and it feels like he's offering more than just his body to you.
But you don't get to think for long, because he's already helping you lay down on your back on the leather couch, unclipping the toy from his leg before he looms over you, hand running through your legs. "You didn't think I've forgotten, right?" He chuckles darkly, while his hand explores your still clenching core.
"You don't think I'm just letting you act like a brat and not put you into your place?" He purrs, leaning back on his heels, before he takes out something from the bag, his phone as well from the table close by. You're pulling back your legs, unaware that you're still exposed to him, lower lips plump and red from the friction of the toy, skin glistening with your arousal.
It's playing right into his desires, seeing you so clueless about your own appeal.
You're watching him press a hidden button on the toy, the pink object buzzing to life once, red light blinking while he taps away on his phone. "Oh~" He hums, trying out somethin it seems like, as the toy buzzes in different patterns before it stills again. "Interesting.. That'll be fun in the future." He chuckles, before he leans over you, kissing you with playful intent.
You're not sure what he's up to when he pushes your legs back down to stretch out, running the smooth object between your legs to cover it in your slick. "You're always so worried you can't take it.." He teases, looking right at you before you notice him push the object inside-
the egg shaped vibrator slipping right in, almost suddenly, core taking it inside greedily- only the elongated part staying outside, something resting right on your clit. "Oh?" He jokes, brows raised. "Where'd it go?" He jokes, making you laugh now, entire nature of this whole scene awfully light in that moment, lifting your overall tenseness entirely at this point. And for a moment, all is fun and games-
until he leans back, sits down in the corner of the couch, finger on his phone suddenly doing something-
The toy inside you buzzing to live, and not on an easy setting, that's for sure. He's obviously amused by the way you squirm, hips jerking whenever you move in a way that forces the part resting against you to move. And he's having the time of his life, trying out different settings and rhythms while watching you suffer under his antics.
"You still need to learn." He chuckles, watching your legs jerk whenever the piece that's resting over your clit moves just slightly. "I don't have to touch you to gain my fill." He says, simply scanning your body with a warm, hooded gaze. "Hm? You've had such a smart mouth the entire day." He coos, almost feigning innocence as he looks at you racing towards your final high-
Generously turning down the intensity so that it's not that harsh.
You're slowly catching your breath, when his lips tilt upwards, and his finger taps around- buzzing intensifying again, catching you off guard, causing a yelp to escape you as your hips lift off the couch.
This is too much. Or not enough? You can't take this, there's something strange happening with your body as it moves without your permission, turning over into all fours, front laying down as your hands frantically touch the inside of your thighs.
And Jungkook relishes in the scene you present to him, because there's a reason your fingers hesitate to touch your core, and he knows it.
You can't take it out. Not physically- that you can, if you really wanted to- but mentally. You know he's put it there, and he's the one in control. This is your punishment, and in an odd moment of realization, you accept it, thighs trembling as your body reaches yet another, warmer orgasm that causes you to cry out, voice sounding foreign to your own ears as your hips jerk, your knees pressed into the leather below the only thing holding you upright-
Or maybe it's Jungkook, who's leaning over your back, arm keeping your front elevated as it rests against your collarbone.
When did he move?
When did he shed his top?
Your core feels empty, and your legs feel wet. Is ge not wearing pants anymore? You can feel something touch you, hot and heavy against your thigh, and it must be him.
You want him. Where'd that toy go that was inside you seconds ago?
You’re still breathing heavily, cheeks still wet from the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes. Your lashes are still coated in them, wet and heavy, when Jungkook kisses your neck from behind you, a reminder that he’s still there.
Just like he always promises. He never let’s you feel lonely.
“That's it.” He praises. “Hold onto me like that. I’ll keep your body safe while you let go.” He chuckles, and only now do you notice the iron grip you have on his forearm over your chest, nails digging into his skin. You feel a bit bad for it.
Though you just lessen your strength a bit, not letting go.
Suddenly, his other arm moves, grabs something out of sight, before he runs the object through your slick-coated cunt and thighs, covering it in your arousal before it prods at your still clenching hole.
“You think I won’t fit?” He purrs against your neck, and you swallow thickly, a strange cocktail or anticipation and worry mixing in your body. “You think I won’t claim this cunt as mine at the end of this week?” He asks again, and you can feel the wave if cool excitement wash over you- starting at your very neck, before it ends in the tips of your toes.
“I’ll teach your body to take me..” He almost chuckles, pushing the very tip of the clear pink toy inside, before he moves it back out- Pushing it in a little further each time. “I’ll make sure to get you all ready for me..” he hums sensually, by now having learned of your little kinks you have, as the hand from his arm still keeping your upper body pressed against his own finds one of your tits, groping the soft flesh before his thumb flicks the sensitive bud once to see you squirm.
“I won’t let you forget any of this.” He threatens almost, and you whine when you feel him push the toy even further now.
You feel so full. How much more is there to go?
“Jung-” you whine pitifully, eyes closed as your hips can’t stay still, all of it a stark difference to the fast paced, almost aggressive orgasm he’s given you just moments prior. “I cant-” you start, and he laughs.
“Oh you can.” He tells you, before he gives the toy another push. “And you will.” He purrs, and its then that you feel the base of the toy against your lower lips.
You swear you can feel it in your stomach- and for some odd reason, you like it.
"You're made for me." He chuckles, kisses at your neck and cheek before he bites, toy leaving your cunt with only the tip before he moves it back in, feeling of a Rollercoaster ride making your insides jump and eyes roll back. You can't think anymore, you can only feel- and right now, you feel just so used in the best kind of way.
Somehow, he makes your worst nightmares come true- but they're not nightmares anymore, just dreams, vibrant and pleasant. Exciting. New.
It could be so easy to replace the toy with himself right now- but he doesn't, because that's one of his own rules he will never break. Your trust in him is precious, it's a gift- and he won't tarnish that by simply being greedy for more than you want to offer.
"Jung.." you huff, swallowing down saliva before you can say anything at all. "Jungkook-.. please-" you beg, unsure how to phrase it.
"What is it?" He asks, moves to nuzzle your neck so softly- a stark contract to his constant push and pull with the clear pink dildo he's using to give you a taste of his own length one day doing the same. Filling you up. Probably even better? You can imagine him all warm and slicked up from your wetness, stretching you open and making you feel so full you can hardly breathe.
"More.. f- faster-" you request. "Please?" You add on, and he chuckles.
"See?" His breath fans over your neck. "You can be such a good girl." He teases, pressing the replica as deep as it can reach inside you, base pushing against your skin. "Where were your manners today?" He wonders. "Will I always have to ruin this cunt to remind you where your place is?" He asks, and you nod, shamelessly so.
"Yes!" You whimper, mind somewhere else by now entirely as you struggle to keep yourself still. "Yes- I.. I forget-" you huff out, and he laughs as he runs his lips over your shoulder, piercing a distinct contrast to his softer lips.
"Then let me remind you, darling." He hums against your jot and sweating skin. "You're mine, in this moment. And I decide what to do with you... or to you." He tells you, and you nod, legs quivering.
Only for him to move the toy back to have it slip out, hole gaping at him, closing around nothing. The sigh is everything he ever needed or wanted- cunt all red and flushed, lower lips swollen and glistening, and he has to imagine his own seed staining your skin, mixing with your own arousal staining the couch and your legs.
His cock twitches at the sight, a drop of precum escaping him without control.
But what he does have control over is the rest of himself, as he pushes the toy back inside, causing your toes to curl, especially once he moves it in a faster, steadier pace. It short-circuits your brain, everything around you smelling of sex as he uses the replica to give you a taste of what he could give you.
Your arousal foams up around the base of the pink silicone, creating a ring of white as you cream up from his pace.
The orgasm you reach from this is different, as if it happens somewhere else in your body- though his hand is quick to flick your sensitive pearl to send you off with a proper goodbye, soil leaving your body as you quiver and lose all control one last time, body giving out as he lets you lay down now, muscles twitching from the overuse.
And it only takes him one good pump on his own cock to make him spurt his release onto your back, where his lips kiss up your spine in his post-orgasmic fever.
He's drunk off of you. He's never even had full on sec with you yet- and he's already addicted.
You've got no idea what you're doing to him.
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In the bathtub, his hand is a lot softer as it runs over your body, cleaning you and nurturing this blossoming feeling you're growing for him.
You're both back from your respective highs, world slowly bleeding back into reality as you simply exist in the warm water for now. "Was that alright?" He asks you, and you nod.
"It was.. new." You say, voice echoing in the bathroom, together with the sound of water sloshing everytime he moves. "I didn't think I'd enjoy what you did- but I did."
"How so?" He wonders, wanting to know hour thoughts now that your brain is functional again. Feedback is important now more than ever after all- he has to still figure out how to navigate this new experience with you.
"I thought.. it would feel, you know, degrading." You explain. "To be used." You clarify, and he nods, carefully moving your hair to see the side of your face better. "But it didn't. It felt more.. as if I was.. of service? Is that the right word?" You wonder, and he chuckles.
"Its how I feel in my position as well, you know." He answers. "Knowing that what I offer gives you pleasure.. is enough for me." He shrugs, and you stretch your legs, cramps finally letting up. "You looked so pretty.." he teases, and you whine.
"I was crying like a baby!" You argue, turning around a bit-
Though you're caught off guard by the terribly soft look he offers you, hand reaching out to hold your cheek.
"Thats because you are my baby." He says-
Making you cry once more.
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oikasugayama · 5 months
Note
Okay so yeah Ranpo is probably super lazy in bed but like… imagine him just getting SO worked up that he just goes N U T S and takes total control 🥴
OKAAAAAAAAAAY 🥴
so yeah he likes to be taken care of, likes to be lazy and not do the work, but when you tease him? when you edge him? when you're just not doing the thing he really wants you to do?
he's stronger than he looks. he can also be quite the little shit. he'll grab you, flip you over, pin you down. he'll press himself to your back and rub his dick against your pussy/ass without sticking it in and grumble in your ear that you're not. being. good. his tone is only a little playful and it's sharp. it's...sadistic almost. you can tell he's about to fuck the shit out of you and he's gonna enjoy working you up, using you, and maybe even overstimulating you or making you feel so good that you cry.
for exampleeeee (gender neutral, gonna mention several potential body parts to give more ppl the chance to enjoy)
ranpo's had a hard day. h was pissed off first thing in the morning by someone underestimating and belittling him, the bakery he went to for lunch didn't have what he REALLY wanted, and when he tried to have a calm afternoon he was scolded, bothered, and Karl ate some of his emergency sweets when Poe came to drop off his latest novel (which ranpo solved far too quick. booooring.)
and of course he kept you updated throughout the day about how shitty it was. you planned a nice dinner for him, gave him lots of kisses and played with his hair when he got home. eventually he turns to you and says "I need something extra sweet to cheer me up," while gliding his hand up your thigh. there's no issue identifying what he means.
you lead him to the bedroom, you two strip while kissing and nibbling and licking each others skin. you lay in bed and he plays with your boobs/nipples for a while. you get whiny and squirmy and eventually push him over, sit on his hips, and start riding him. he usually loves cowgirl--he loves watching your tits/cock bounce while you work yourself up, and then he loves watching your face scrunch up when you start getting close to cumming.
only today, you're going too slow. you're grinding more than you're bouncing. sure it feels good, but it's not what he wants. he tries to grab your hips and help you bounce, but he's not at a good angle to use his strength to life you, and it only gets you to lift up and sink back down a few times. he could ask you to change but doesn't wanna snap at you or sound like a dick. well. guess he'll just act. he knows you'll like it, sooo....
he huffs, glides one knee up to give him leverage, then in one fell swoop he's flipped you onto your back and is kneeling between your thighs, cock still buried deep inside you. He uses his arms to brace your thighs so they're near your sides--you're not quite folded in half, but he's definitely stretching your muscles out, and you definitely can't break free because he has you in the perfect hold.
and then, once you've gasped and had a second to process what he's done, he starts fucking you. hard. the room is full of obscene slapping sounds as his balls hit your ass and his thighs slap against yours. He grunts and moans, and even though you're obviously used to having sex with him you blush because of how different he sounds. he's usually very nice in bed, praising you and saying sweet things. now he's saying shit like "gonna fuck you so hard you can't fucking walk. gonna take everything out on your pussy/ass until i feel better. gonna use you and you can't fuckin' stop me. when you cum you better scream. i want you to wake the neighbors. i want you to wake the whole fucking neighborhood screaming cause i fuck you so good."
he makes you cum hard and he does it several times. He bruises you up all over, on your neck and chest from hickeys, on your ass and thighs from his grip and the force of his body hitting yours. when you're done you're sweaty, out of breath, overstimulated, there's cum everywhere, and he's dozing beside you with a smile on his face.
(please wake him up to take a shower and change the sheets.)
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gemini-sensei · 8 months
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Oh Baby! | Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader
Fem!Reader ○ Fluff Headcanons
@sensei-venus this deserved its own post 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy it. Also, I could definitely do more of dad!Jaime if anyone wants that.
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💙 When Jaime and Reader talk about having kids, there's no rush. No matter what his family may say or tease him with, he wants to be ready for a baby. Given his position as a superhero, he needs to have a plan. Needless to say, he was not ready and none of this was planned.
💙 Naturally, Khaji Da knows about Reader becoming pregnant before even she knows. At first, it keeps the idea to itself, gathering more scans over a few weeks before sharing its findings with Jaime.
💙 As soon as it tells him, he doesn't believe it. He's not ready, so he doesn't want to believe it, but as soon as Khaji starts listing things off, including Reader's changing vitals among other evidence. At this point, it's literally like 4 or 5 weeks into the pregnancy, so Reader has no idea - not even an inkling or feeling - of being pregnant.
💙 Jaime has no idea what to do with this information. Does he tell Reader? Does he wait for her to find out? He's truly at a loss and is not taking any "advice" from Khaji because it's the whole reason this is an issue. However, he ends up slipping up and telling Reader before he can even make up his mind.
💙 If you thought Khaji was protective of its host, it is even more protective of Jaime and Reader's unborn child simply because it knows that Jaime would be devastated if anything happened to them or to Reader. So Khaji is constantly wanting to be near Reader so that it can monitor her and the baby's vitals and well-being. Who needs doctors who went to medical school for several years when you have an alien weapon willing to do all that work for free?
💙 In all seriousness, though, Khaji Da would kill if anything happened to Reader and the baby (I mean, Jaime would too, damn his morals because that's the love of his life, the mother of his child, his whole world, I could go on). No one is touching a single hair on her body. Hell, no one is going to look at her the wrong way. Basically, it's on sight if anything bad happened to them.
💙 Jaime is so awestruck when his baby girl is born. She's so chubby and has the roundest cheeks he's ever seen. He's so in love with her and is hard-pressed to let anyone hold her other than himself and Reader.
💙 His family adores her. When they get to meet her, they are talking to her and telling her how she's so precious to them and how much they love her already. She gets held by everyone at least once, except Milagro who is hesitant to hold her because she's so brand new; she's an 11/10 tía though. She's definitely the kind of aunt that is like "You can tell me anything and I won't tell your parents."
💙 When alone, Jaime cries pure tears of joy because of his baby girl. He loves her so much but fears that somehow he's going to bring danger into her life and Reader's life. He gives his daughter lots of kisses and promises to protect her no matter what.
💙 His family stays with him and Reader for the first week or two at home, offering a helping hand when they can. His mom literally can't get enough of the little one, and she takes on a lot of the work so Reader can rest and recover from the birth.
💙 Jaime loves sitting in a comfy chair with his baby girl on his chest, fast asleep. He will not move because just looks so cute drooling on him.
💙 By the way, this baby has some thick, pretty curls that you know she got from her daddy. She's so pretty and Jaime's camera roll is soon full of nothing but pictures of her and Reader, though it was at one point just Reader. He always has to have some pictures of them both handy because he just loves them so much and they're beautiful.
💙 This is his first baby, but I promise that it won't be his last. He wants at least one more kid, but he sees himself having a big family.
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601 notes · View notes
rimunagenius · 10 days
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I loveeee your writing! could you write some head canons about Caitlin clark dating a famous pop star think Sabrina carpenter and her just being obsessed with reader, talking about her non stop in interviews ect
hi anon! i love this idea and thank you so much!💕
Caitlin Clark x Pop Star!reader
you met the most cliche way but super cute nonetheless
you had been sitting court side at an iowa game after the wrap of your tour
you had been a basketball fan since you were a little girl; you played growing up and in college as well before pursuing your music career
she had caught your eye, you having a little crush on her (her confidence through the TV when you followed on tour, enticed you insanely)
your relationship is definitely she fell first and she fell harder (you fell first and she fell harder)
Caitlin loved your music, putting the whole team on you so when she saw you in the crowd, courtside, she came to impress
you just so happened to show up on the biggest night of her career (she broke all those records and she’ll say it was her playing…her teammates would say your presence contributing to her ambition to break the records quicker)
after the game, you stayed behind, talking to your other friends in the music industry who had been there when some of the team came up to you asking for pictures
Caitlin had press interviews, and when they were over so you asked to take a picture with her
“I should be asking you this question, shouldn’t i?” She smiled at you before putting her arm around your waist, and you to her taking the picture
“My biggest flex is I met my celeb crush.” You told your crowd at your small venue show. “I met the Caitlin Clark, and she’s so much prettier in person.”
You treated your fans like your friends. doing a lot of crowd work and have conversations. You told them the real meaning behind ‘because i liked a boy’
a fan had recorded and leaked the footage, it everting around everywhere and inevitably reaching Caitlin
Jada had showed Kate, who had told Caitlin
That’s when Caitlin had it bad
For the next several weeks after that clip went to the media you and Caitlin went back and forth sharing posts to your story of eachother with “stunning” (directed to you) and “i’m your #1 fan” (directed to her)
you didn’t try and hide it your lyrics more controversial than admitting you had a crush a Caitlin
then you both were at a event, you shooting your shot and inviting her as your date
You guys talked more after the stories so inviting her seemed like the right move to you in starting your evolving relationship
you guys definitely were close that night…
i’m talking paparazzi getting shots of you where Caitlin just so happened to have her arms or hands on your waist
then she started appearing more at your shows wether they were small venues or big arenas
Caitlin definitely was starting to get more confident and cocky with you
“this wouldn’t be an issue if you were my girl already”
“oh, so you got something to ask me?”
“no because you already know you want me, and you know i want you.”
Cait obv asks you to be her gf despite this, and it was very intimate and romantic
the hard launch went absolutely bonkers too because both of your fandoms were so large
you made ten times more appearances at her games, courtside, and repping her number loud and proud
you wrote songs about her, and they did so well because you guys were the model couple
“So how do you feel now that you’re dating the Caitlin Clark?” you’d get asked that so frequently the answer was automatic
“Like the luckiest girl in the world.” It was cheesy but it was true
your dream come true
you were subtle; no matter how cocky Caitlin had gotten and how she was usually the most dominant one (Cait is definitely a top and the more masc one when she’s put in a wlw relationship…can’t change my mind)
but was your biggest cheerleader and wouldn’t stop gushing about you when you came up in press interviews
she’d find ways to bring you up like
“oh, me and my girlfriend…”
“my girlfriend would’ve thought that was funny…”
“my girlfriend…”
you two were literally meant to be
two big careers matched you both
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allysunny · 3 months
Note
Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀
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"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara
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Words: 4.1k words
Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!
Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3
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“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.
Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.
“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.
“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.
You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.
“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.
Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”
You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.
You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).
“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.
You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”
He only sighed in response and shook his head.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.
His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.
She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that.  He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.
She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.
She can’t clean either – let him handle it.
The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.
So why wouldn’t he treat you with the utmost care?
“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.
“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.
You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.
“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.
You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.
“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.
Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.
“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.
You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.
“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”
“No me importa. Que vean.”
“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.
“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”
“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.
“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”
Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.
“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”
Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.
“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”
“Miguel!”
“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.
“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”
“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.
Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.
“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “
“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”
“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”
“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.
You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.
You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.
A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.
You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.
The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.
Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.
You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.
So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?
You looked at the woman again.
She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.
And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.
And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?
It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
You refused to meet his eye.
“Mhm. Just peachy.”
“Are you cold?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why are you covering yourself?”
“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.
Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.
And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.
"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.
And then everything fell into place.
The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.
And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.
“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.
“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “
“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.
You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.
“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.
There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.
“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”
“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.
“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.
“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.
“I feel so unworthy.”
“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”
“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”
Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.
“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.
“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”
Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.
“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”
You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”
Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.
“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.
Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“You forgot the most important part.”
You looked up, confusion in your features.
“She will never be you.”
Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.
“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”
You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.
“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.
“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.
“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”
Miguel quickly cut you off.
“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
You nodded with a small smile.
“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.
“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.
“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”
You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.
You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.
For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.
You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?
You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn’t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.
You would be okay.  
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A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.
Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3
298 notes · View notes
stupidasfuck · 4 months
Text
Godlike Platonic!Grid x Reader
Summary: The reader defends the drivers in front of the reporters and calls them out on their behaviour towards the drivers.
A/N: english is not my first language and to be honest I don‘t know how I feel about this one but I hope you still enjoy it. Have fun reading <3
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It‘s a Sunday and Lando, Max, Daniel and I find ourself in a post race interview. Everything would be fine if the reporters wouldn‘t harass Lando with questions about a mistake that caused him to DNF with only two rounds left in the race.
He, as always, beats himself up about his mistake and the reporters only make it worse. My mood at the beginning of the press conference was pretty good, I finished P2.
But hearing the reporters ask more or less the same stupid questions over and over again and seeing that Landos mood is getting worse and worse, my mood is getting worse too and I have no issue with showing it, an eye roll here a head shake there.
I am known for my attitude and to make my PR managers life a living hell. I always say what I think without thinking of the consequences. Which is mostly the truth. That wouldn‘t be a problem if humans wouldn‘t be so damn sensitive. At least that is what I always tell myself.
And this exact behaviour got me in this situation.
“Y/N, you seem pretty annoyed in the last few minutes. What is going on?“ One of the reporters asks curiously.
“Whats going on?“ I ask rhetorically. “Let me tell you what is going on.“ I can already hear my PR manager yell at me. “You guys are harassing Lando with the same stupid questions for the better part of the last ten minutes. That is what the fuck is going on my nerves. What is also getting on my nerves is that you all are acting like you know everything better and can do everything better than we do, which is bullshit because if you would, you would be sitting in these cars and not us. You are also acting like the mistakes we make are the god damn end of the world, they aren‘t. If you want races without any mistakes then you would have to replace every human in Formula 1 with robots. Because that is what we are humans.“ I say sternly. “A lot of people like to forget that. I know when we drive these cars at 250 Kilometers per hour we seem Godlike and with Godlike I mean flawless, perfect and infallible-“
“And with ‘we‘ she means her.“ Daniel interrupts me to try to light up the mood. I can‘t help but smirk lightly at that before I continue.
“- but we are not. Like I said we are. just. humans. We make mistakes, we are‘t infallible or perfect. And that is good because like my mother always said perfect is boring. And that is true, lets be honest if every race would go perfectly, without any mistakes nobody would watch it due to the fact that it would be boring. You guys need to except that and need to realise that it‘s okay when we make mistakes and to stop rub it in our god damn faces and to stop beating us up because of that, for being human. Believe me we do that enough without your stupid questions and assumptions. Well at least I do. So yeah I am annoyed because you idiots think you are allowed to talk down on us just because you think you know it better.“
I look back at the reporters to see most of them looking like a dear caught in headlight’s.
“Ah thank you. I am sure a lot of us will take note of that and be more respectful in the future.“ The reporter from earlier sais. “You better fucking do.“ I scoff.
There are a few more questions wich are more respectful this time. Most of the reporters seem pretty uncomfortable and happy when the time is up and they can leave.
The four of us were walking towards our garages when Lando speaks up “Thank you by the way.“ He sais smiling at me. “Oh don‘t be so arrogant Lan. Who said I did that for you? That was purely for my well being.“ I say smirking. The others just laugh. “No but lets be real they need to stop with this shit otherwise I am not gonna be that nice next time.“ Daniel rises his eyebrows at me. “Hey you know it could have been way worse.“ I ad when I see Daniels look.
“True.“ Max agrees.
“Yeah but still tank you. But I was wondering, do you writhe your speeches yourself or do you have someone that does that for you?“
“Oh yeah very funny Lando haha. You are just jealous.“ I say in fake annoyance and cross my armes over my chest.
“Oh come on you know I am messing with you.“ He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.
“Yeah what ever you idiot. I need a shower and real alcohol. I expect to see every one of you at the club later.“ I say and point a finger at each of them with a stern look.
“Of course we are gonna be there how could we say no to an invitation like that.“ Danny jokes.
“I mean it. If I don‘t see you, I will drag your asses to the club myself.“ I call after them walking towards my driver room.
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Thats it i hope you like it <3
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bluegiragi · 1 year
Note
Hello! My friends and I are big fans of your work and like to babble about it like excited babies and we got to talking about your monster au today, because we’re so excited!
My friend brought up the fact Price might have balance issues because of the missing wing and we were discussing how he might deal with that (other than very quietly so no one worries about him). We thought perhaps he might carry a weight on his shoulder to balance it out and during missions, carry his gear more concentrated on that side. I was wondering, did you have any ideas fleshed out for how he deals with his disability?
(Also, just an aside, it’s sort of a big thing for me to see disabled characters, because I’m disabled myself, so thank you for adding it! And just gushing: I love your work! Your König gives my heart the flutters! ❤️❤️)
hello anon!! thank you so much for giving me ample opportunity to talk about price and his wing - you've kind of nailed the mechanics of it but I thought I'd talk more broadly about how accommodating monster-y features works in the monster au.
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wings (and other features) for monsters can be retracted and regrown at will, but the process is always gruelling and painful. the process also begins to leave more pressing residual effects when the monster gets older, like lingering muscle pain or weakened bone structure. this is why the 141 relish being around each other - government contract work is one of the few opportunities where monsters can be openly comfortable with their bodies with other monsters outside of their immediate herds/packs/flocks etc.
price's tail (as well as most of the other shifters) is a permanent fixture of his body. in civilian mode, he straps it down to his leg to keep it from moving around. however, his wings and horns are retractable. this 'regrowing' ability is also why a prosthetic just wouldn't be viable.
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the wing price lost was ripped out at the root (ouch) meaning he can't regrow it like he can his other wing. and you're right! the loss of one wing means that price's weight is almost always leaning towards his left side, even when his remaining wing is retracted. to offset it, he tends to wear a weighted shoulder brace on that side of his body.
the muscles around where his wing stub should've been also don't get a lot of work these days and are intermittently wracked with muscle aches, so he has to stretch that area pretty regularly.
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sepublic · 1 year
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            I love ragging on Belos but also DAMN he’s fiendishly clever. Like let’s analyze his ‘reunion’ with the Collector;
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         Gets caught, Collector is suspicious and scared? Belos immediately calms him down by making the Collector feel in control over his own spell he openly doubted, pointing to the moon symbol on Raine’s forehead; Telling this kid not to worry about his most immediate question! And then Belos justifies the anomaly by playing along with the wishful fantasy rules of a kid who believes in the magic of friendship! Anything can happen, so no need to question any further, he flatters the child.
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         Then there’s his next line, in which Belos warns the Collector that he’s in danger, which is incredibly vague and could mean anything; And in the couple of seconds it takes the Collector to react in derision, Belos figures out he needs to be more specific and how to elaborate on this, claiming someone is going to betray the Collector.
         Note that he never name-drops anyone on his own, because Belos doesn’t really know who’s around the Collector, other than Odalia. But just in case, he keeps it vague so the Collector can provide an answer for him, the first person he’d assume, and thus the one whose betrayal he fears the most: King!
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         Belos latches onto that. He sees King isn’t here, so he asks where is he? Note he doesn’t give an answer, doesn’t make any claims because he doesn’t KNOW anything. Belos is trying to avoid saying something that can be contradicted later on, so he keeps it vague by throwing a very simple, ‘safe’ question that nevertheless makes the kid doubt.
         The Collector watches, is reassured, looks back to Belos to brag! Then he checks again, sees what King said, and looks away. The kid is concerned, but he’s not jumping to any conclusions, and you may think, oh! This is where he checks again, just to be sure.
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         And that’s when Belos drops the bombshell; Luz is here. And as he so cleverly plans, this revelation shocks the Collector, distracting them from checking on King again to hear what he ACTUALLY meant. Because Belos doesn’t know for sure how genuine King is or not, but either way, the less this kid is actually in touch with the outside world, the easier it is for Belos to control the narrative and filter all information through himself. The kid has seen enough to doubt, no need for him to find out more and potentially clarify.
         Likewise, Belos has been manipulating this kid for hundreds of years; Like it or not, the Collector is the longest relationship he’s ever had in his life, by a long shot. He knows the kid’s psychology in and out, he knows exactly which buttons to press, and he guesses at how jealous the Collector can get. If he’s friends with King and holds him in high regard, then King has probably told him about Luz during the time they’ve been hanging out. 
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        And that Collector is an insecure kid… So Belos creates an Us VS Them scenario, plays into the Collector’s worst fears of King replacing him for Luz (gee, it’s like Philip speaks these insecurities from experience). The fact that Belos himself contributed deeply to the Collector’s trust issues, and is now using them is just. Ugh.
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         Now Luz is something Belos DOES know about, having inhabited Hunter, knowing she followed right behind him and does plan to change things, and herself doesn’t know any more than he does; If anything, she knows less! So Belos is a lot more free to make claims about Luz’s motives and goals here, because he actually knows them for the most part. Luz is something Belos can guarantee and thus reliably interpret for the Collector to support his claim.
        That creates an unpredictable element that unsettles the kid, pair that up with the ambiguity of what King said (never checked back on, due to Belos diverting the Collector’s attention) and you’ve got the perfect recipe to manipulate this child all over again… An empty sandbox the Collector can’t verify from which Belos can craft a new narrative with, and anytime something comes along that can be interpreted in its favor, like the ending of the episode? You betcha.
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         God he’s so smart, so confident that you might not even notice at first how baseless Belos’ claims are. You’d understandably think he actually DID somehow know, and wasn’t just adapting and having good luck in guessing! Imagine society if Belos weaponized his autism for actual good.
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parkersbliss · 2 years
Text
Flustered | F. Hargreeves
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pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader
wc: 903
warnings: sexual innuendo?
synopsis: ever since five retried, he’s been a lot more affectionate with you
requests: CLOSED
prompts: 043: “Your hands are really soft.” 054: “They have everyone.” “Not you.” “I’m the exception.” 067: “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”
“Hi, Luther, Klaus, Diego!” You greet happily. Five doesn’t bother and just pulls out his chair.
“What’s wrong?” Later said through a mouthful of Chinese takeout. “You look happy.”
You come up next to Five, and he pulls a chair out for you, making your cheeks heat up at the small action. “Why can’t he be happy?”
“Well, he’s Five. Always so… bitter.”
You shrug. “They hate everyone.”
“Not you.”
“I’m the exception.”
“I am plenty happy,” Five spoke, taking a seat. “Had a nap and shvitz, what does a man need?”
“Brother’s who don’t eat like barn animals?” Klaus suggests.
Both Diego and Luther look to Klaus, mouths full of noodles, proving his point.
You sit down, smiling at the three brothers. You're dressed in the same thing as Five, a soft bathrobe that says “Hotel Obsidian.”
Klaus grins at you, and you raise a brow. “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”
“What?” You practically scream, pulling back the collar of your bathrobe.
Diego snickers, “Seems like Five got a little more than a Shvitz.”
Luther nods. “Yeah, (Y/N) looks like she’s gonna die of embarrassment.”
Klaus claps. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you two! How was it?”
Five blinked at his brother. “It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, why not? We’re bros!”
Five sighs, looking at you, then back to Klaus. “It was… nice.” You basically die in your seat at his choice of wording. He notices and chuckles, grabbing your hand in his. The three brothers whistle, and you shrink further into your seat.
“Your hands are really soft,” He whispers in your ear.
“Five!” You whine, feeling like you might explode at all the attention and affection. You and Five mostly kept your relationship on the down-low, seeming it was the most concerning issue the past month.
“So I’ve been thinking through our little timeline snafu, and I’m pleased to report that in my professional, expert opinion: we are totally in the clear.”
“Awesome!”
“Huh.”
“Great! So everything’s totally fine?” Luther asked.
“More or less. I mean,” Five hesitates, smiling. “There is one small thing. But it’s nothing we can’t manage.”
Five hands you one of the carry-out boxes, “Choi mein, your favorite.” And you smile softly, mumbling a thanks to him. He just smiles back, “Anytime.” And your stomach flips when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You actually think you might die this time.
“So, spit it out, boomer!” Diego mumbles through his noodles.
“Fine, Diego, it’s like this. Dad didn’t adopt us as babies, but those babies still existed here,” Five explained as you take a bite of your own meal.
Klaus frowns. “Awww.”
“We just grew up in different places with different people.”
“So?” Diego questions.
“So where are they now? Odds are we each have identical versions of ourselves walking around out there living completely different lives.”
Luter gasps excitedly. “Our doppelgängers!”
“That’s a made-up word,” Klaus dismisses.
“No, no, I learned all about this in Texas. Tell them about the paranoid psychosis, Five!”
“It’s paradox,” You correct.
“Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought you said this wasn’t a problem?”
“Okay, yes,” Five admits. “Technically, if you’re near your Doppel for too long, you’ll go insane. So if you ever see your other self—”
“Kill them.”
“Sleep with them.”
“… avoid them."
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luther asked, giving both his brothers a skeptical look.
“Oh, come on, as if you wouldn’t climb Luther mountain,” Klaus teases. The look on Luther’s face tells you enough about what he’s thinking.
“Wait, how are we supposed to guarantee we don’t cross paths with ourselves?”
“Easy. I mean, we’re the Benetton of superheroes, born all around the world until dad brought us here, which he no longer did. Doppel’s probably aren’t even in the same time zone as us.”
“That’s true,” Luther mumbles.
Diego nods. “Yeah.”
“Would you pass the moo shu?” Five asked, reaching across the table, and Luther does so. Suddenly, Diego leaves in a rush, and you shrug it off.
“So how long have you two been…” Klaus trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Gross, Klaus,” Five said, before adding. “We’ve been together for a while now.”
“Oh, wow,” Klaus sighs. “That’s so cute. I mean, (Y/N) is so sweet, and you’re so… you!”
You giggle at that, and Five rolls his eyes, “Thanks, Klaus.” Five grabs his takeout and a pair of chopsticks before taking your hand and helping you off your seat.
“You didn’t have to do that, Five,” You mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I know, darling, but I wanted to,” He replies, and you swear you’re gonna pass out.
Five must notice because he waves his brothers goodbye and leads you back to the hotel room. His hand intertwines with yours, and your face is even hotter now.
“You’re easily flustered, darling,” Five said, opening the door to his room.
“You’re not usually so forward, that’s all,” You shrug.
“Well, I’m retired, so I get to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
You hide your face in your hands at his comment. “Five!”
He chuckles, peeling your hands away carefully. “There you are, pretty girl.” Five cups your face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that has you internally screaming.
“The rest of our lives is just gonna be this,” He promises.
“Really?”
“Really.”
— END —
🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty @umbrellatte @hahaspoilerhaha @mi1kobitch @analuizafernandescavalcante @icarus-star @yuki1s--note @m4nd0l0r @ells-graveyard @eichenhouseproperty @iaevs @oneirataxia-girl @ay4kshalatus
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writeforfandoms · 10 months
Text
Born for Greatness 6
Find the series masterlist
You may have noticed this is now chapter 6 of 9! There are 8 official chapters and then there will be one bonus chapter with the 141 pack and Logan interacting.
This chapter, you have a very hard time. But not everything is bad.
Warnings: Swearing, attachment issues, John Price is his own warning, more world building and shifter behavior, pack cuddles definitely need their own warning. Discussion of reader's past and issues. Bodily throwing reader into a cold pond.
John Price x f!reader
Word count: 2.5k
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Something shifted after that movie night. Suddenly, Price was everywhere - checking up on you, watching you while he worked with rookies, ensuring you ate. 
And as much as Logan liked to tease you that you were wilfully blind, you knew what this kind of behavior meant, especially coming from him. 
He was treating you as pack. 
You weren’t sure what surprised you more - the treatment, or the lack of protest from Logan. Logan did watch Price any time they were in the same room, but he was being oddly calm about everything. 
Which just meant you were mentally braced for something to blow up. 
But you finally got the make-up class for the last group of soldiers scheduled. You ignored the fact that Logan followed you to class, taking a seat back behind you. 
That class went off without a hitch, which… was good. It was. It was a good thing.
Even if the continued good behavior of the soldiers meant you were that much closer to being done with your job here. Really, there were just a few things left on your to-do list.
You tried hard not to feel disappointed about that.
Especially when the order from LoveSac arrived. That was a big item off your list. You mostly watched as the pack (plus Logan) got the pieces set up in the rec room, although you did smile when Soap threw himself onto the finished product with a low groan. 
“Ye were right,” he mumbled, just barely audible to you. “This is great.”
You laughed quietly. “I’m glad you approve.” But the pang of your heart must not have been as concealed as you’d hoped - three heads swiveled to look at you: Ghost, Price, and Logan. “You lot should get comfortable, make it feel more like home,” you said, quickly looking away from the shifters. “Soap’s got the right idea, take a nap.” 
Your phone ringing gave you the perfect excuse to escape, which you took. Your feet moved on autopilot as you listened to the woman on the other end of the call, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate times. 
You weren’t even surprised when you found yourself outside. It was just that kind of day, clearly. It couldn’t just be one thing, it had to be multiple things at once. You thanked the woman softly and hung up. 
Briefly, you debated climbing up onto the roof of the barracks again. But you dismissed the thought. Not this time. You needed to actually start tackling this problem. 
“Bad news?”
You yelped, fumbling your phone as you whirled to face Price. “I swear I’m going to put a fucking bell on you.” 
“Sorry.” This time he actually sounded like he meant it, hands out at his sides, eyes very blue before you yanked your gaze back down to your phone. 
“It’s fine.” You blew out a breath, leaning over to grab your phone and wipe it off, avoiding looking at him. 
“What happened?” He shifted closer, slowly, carefully. 
“Nothing I can’t handle.” You shrugged off his concern with a little smile. “Don’t worry about it.” 
He chuckled quietly, taking another step closer to you. “I’m the alpha,” he rumbled, “which means it’s my job to worry.”
You huffed something almost a laugh. “I suppose so.” You rubbed one hand over your face, pressing your thumb and forefinger into your eyes until stars burst in the darkness under your eyelids. “Apparently, there was a fire in my apartment complex and the whole thing is closed off pending investigation. There was some damage to my apartment, but I have no idea how much.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Price murmured, low and gentle and closer than you expected. “Do you need to go?”
“No, won’t do me any good.” You let your hand drop back to your side, blinking a few times to get rid of the last few spots in your vision. “Besides, I’m almost done here.”
“That so?” He tipped his head at you.
“Yeah.” You shrugged. “The LoveSac was the last big thing. Just need to do another day or two of observing everyone, and then I can sign off on everything.” 
“So you’re a day or two away from being done with this job.” He crossed his arms loosely over his chest. 
“Yes.”
“Stay here.”
You blinked up at him, sure you’d misheard him. “...What?” 
“Stay here,” he offered again, watching you closely. “For as long as you want.”
“But I’m not military,” was the first thing out of your mouth. You were still a little bit in shock.
“I’ll take care of that.” One big hand settled over the back of your neck, warm and soothing. “Think about it, hm? All you have to do is tell me yes or no.” 
“Okay,” you agreed quietly, a little bewildered still. “I will… let you know.” 
He nodded, squeezing gently. You could have melted. Your eyes fluttered closed and you had to force them back open again, holding steady against him. “Call me John.” 
You blinked, eyes blowing wide. “Okay. John.” 
“Come back inside,” he suggested, ever so gently tugging you forward. “Join the boys. Relax a bit, eh?” 
You thought about resisting, about writing up the report that you really should be working on, about the half-dozen other little things you could do. Thought about the big things that needed doing too, like finding a new apartment.
And then you gave in with a sigh. “Yeah, alright,” you agreed, allowing the comforting warmth of his hand at the nape of your neck to guide you forward. “For a little while.” 
Price - John - didn’t relinquish his grip on you until you were back in the rec room. Logan was gone, but you didn’t have time to ask where he’d gone, because Soap got up from the LoveSac to grab you from John. 
“Ye alright?” he asked, tucking you under his arm easily as he guided you to the napping spot. 
“Getting there.” You shrugged, unwilling to go into things again. You were busy shoving your feelings down. 
Soap nodded, searching your expression, before he grinned. “Hey, LT. Incoming.” 
You had approximately a second to think oh shit before Soap tumbled you over the back of the couch, somehow avoiding Gaz. 
And landing you right in front of the cheetah.
Ghost simply blinked at you languidly, nose twitching as he sniffed you. You blinked back at him, holding very still. Not that you really thought he’d do anything to hurt you, but still. 
You did startle when he laid half-across you, purring. Oh. Oh that was really kind of nice, actually. The purring was soothing, and the weight of him was nice (since he wasn’t fully laying on you), and it was all too easy to go lax. 
“Ye never purr like that at me,” Soap grumbled, pout clear in his voice. 
“Hush.” That was John, soft but still in charge. 
There was a little grumble and then Soap flopped over around you, his head near yours and his body curled to fit into the free space around you. Which you noticed when you opened one eye to look at him, curious. 
“Alpha-mandated nap time,” Soap murmured with faux-gravitas, eyes twinkling. “Ghost reinforced.”
You snorted and closed your eye again. “Guess so,” you agreed softly. You felt the couch dip near your feet and someone tugged your shoes off. But you didn’t bother checking this time. Didn’t matter if it was Gaz or John - either way you were safe and warm, and still had a purring cheetah laying on you. 
Really, there was nothing for you to do but relax, soothed to sleep by the gentle rumbling. 
You had no idea how long you slept, but you woke to gentle nudging, and blinked blearily. You were still surrounded by warmth, although Ghost was no longer laying on you. 
“Time to get up,” John murmured, low and rumbling. 
You wrinkled your nose, sitting up slowly. “Time ‘s it?” 
“Almost dinner time.” John gave you a bit of space, watching as you cracked your neck and blinked several times. 
“Right.” You puffed out a breath. Ghost blinked at you from his spot on top of Soap, ears flicking towards you. “If you ever want an alternate career, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever fallen asleep,” you joked. 
Ghost snorted at you, one paw batting at you, slowly, playfully. He was even being careful of his claws. Aw, he did like you! 
John offered you a hand up to get off the couch, which you accepted. Gaz handed over your shoes, and you left with the two of them, giving Soap and Ghost time. 
Somehow, you were still surprised when the two shifters coordinated to seat you between them. 
At some point, you were going to have a massive freak out about this. You could tell. 
But not today.
You did beg off after dinner, though, going to take a shower and do a bit of actual work. That report wasn’t going to write itself.
Not that you were using work as an excuse not to think about what you wanted. Of course not. You’d never. 
But when your vision blurred and the words ran together on the screen, you finally gave up, pressing your palms against your eyes. 
Maybe you should take a vacation. Maybe you should finish up here and go back to Canada with Logan for a little while. Get some space to clear your head, examine everything objectively. Take some space to decide if this was really a good idea. Logan would let you stay with him, he always did. 
Plus that would give you a chance to get your living situation figured out, since your current apartment was no longer viable. 
You groaned softly, pushing your palms harder into your face. No. No more thinking about this tonight. You needed sleep, not an anxiety spiral. 
Even so, it took you a while to fall asleep, schedule knocked out of whack from the nap earlier and your own stress.
So of course someone pounding on your door far too early in the morning had you jolting out of bed, bleary-eyed, head pounding angrily with the lack of sleep. You yanked the door open, teeth bared, ready to rip a new hole into whoever woke you up.
Only to be rudely pushed past as Logan made his way into your room, uninvited. 
“Get dressed,” he ordered, giving you a quick once over. “We’re going out.”
“Where?” The word was still grouchy but you were already closing the door, aware this was not an argument you would win. 
“Outside.” 
You flashed your teeth at him, thoroughly unimpressed, but got dressed anyway. 
Logan didn’t speak again until the two of you were outside, starting a patrol of the perimeter. It was completely unnecessary, considering this was an active base, but clearly Logan needed it. 
“Are you staying?”
You nearly stopped out of surprise, blinking at him. “What?” 
Logan shot you a look that said all kinds of derogatory things about your intelligence. “He offered you a place here. Are you going to stay?” 
“I don’t–” You sighed, short and sharp. “I haven’t decided.” 
“You’re being stubborn.”
“It’s more complicated than that and you know it.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Is it?” Logan shook his head, steering you along. “You like them. You trust them. You’ve been given an offer to stay.”
“I still have things back home to take care of,” you shot back. “It would make doing my job more difficult. They’re gone I don’t even know how much.” 
“People make it work all the time.” Logan shrugged. “If you want it, you’ll make it work. If you don’t, let ‘em down easy and come back with me.” 
“I was thinking of taking a bit of time off to think about it.”
“Nope.” Logan snorted, shaking his head. “You’ll use the space to procrastinate on making an actual decision and run away.”
You narrowed your eyes at Logan. “Rude,” you growled. But he wasn’t exactly wrong, was the thing. 
"So. Do you want it?" Logan stopped the two of you beside a pond, looking out over the water. He at least gave you a bit of space by not looking at you. 
You blew out a hard breath. Did you want it? Yes. But you didn't know if it was the right call, if it was a good call. You could probably think of a thousand reasons why you shouldn't. 
A hand in your pocket jerked you out of your musings, and you had just enough time to look at Logan in outrage before he shoved you. Hard. 
You shrieked as you fell. Straight into the pond. Cold water enveloped you, briefly filling your mouth until you touched the bottom and failed your way back up to the surface. And spat out the water. 
"FUCK!" You whipped your head around to glare at Logan, dripping and cold. "LOGAN!" 
“It’s a simple yes or no question, kid.” Logan stood above you, your phone safely in his hands.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You started up the bank and out of the pond… only to halt when Logan got in your way.
“No snowbanks here,” he drawled. “You gonna answer the question?” 
“No, I don’t think I will.” You stepped to the side, intending to go around him.
And ended up falling straight back into the water. 
This time, Logan started talking while you were wiping the water from your eyes, ignoring the chill seeping through your skin. 
“They’re not like your foster parents, kid. You know that.”
You froze half-way through trying to climb out. Shouted words and slamming doors echoed in your head, and for a moment you felt very small. Then you shook yourself, lips twisting in a grimace. “I know that,” you spat. “Also, which fucking foster parents?”
“All of them.” Logan tucked your phone in his pocket so he could cross his arms over his chest. “They’re not gonna get sick of you and give up on you, kid.”
Your heart ached at that. The water was looking very tempting again, suddenly. You could just walk away from this absolute train wreck of a conversation. 
“What are you doing?” You looked at Logan, hands clenched into fists to hide the trembling. 
“Knocking you outta your own stubborn head.” Logan kept his gaze steady on you. “I can do this all day, kid.”
And he could. You knew because you’d tested him only once as a teen. 
Guess you were having a conversation about your traumas this morning. 
“You know I’m no good at this.”
“No shit.” Logan snorted. “You never have been.”
You glowered at him. “This kind of shit doesn’t just go away because you keep throwing me in the pond.”
“Nope. Gotta work at it.” Logan finally glanced away from you, smirking. “Figured you’d have some help with that.”
You turned slowly, a horrible sinking feeling in your gut. 
And locked eyes with John.
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peachesofteal · 10 months
Note
Simon praising Darling for being a good girl when she announces she’s pregnant 😮‍💨 like I’m sorry sir, who gave you the right to be so damn hot when you’re FICTIONAL?!
And Darling is just confused af about wtf he means. Like does she ever find out they fucked with her BC and knocked her up?? I must know, I must have more 😈🤭
He's like, 'you've done so well, darling' and she's like 'wait, what the fuck just happened?'
AU - not canon for Dead Disco Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief mention of smut, mature themes. Angst. Vomiting. Doctors. Pregnant reader. Relationship issues. Dark themes.
"I've got ya." Johnny coos while he rubs your back where you are kneeling over the toilet, breakfast and bile coming up your throat with every other heave.
"I hate this." you moan between pants, propping your arm up to rest your head. He clucks his tongue, standing to run a cloth under the sink and returning to press it to your forehead gently. It's cold, and soft, and moving in easy circles.
"I know, darling. I know." You push away, slumping into his arms, letting him cuddle you close while he leans back against the bathroom wall and you count his heartbeats from where your head lays on his chest.
The door creaks open, and Simon's halfway inside, peering down at the two of you, mild concern in his eyes while he studies your slouching form.
"Third time today." He notes with a frown, and you nod. They count, keep track of everything, so they can recall it for your doctor's visits and make sure everything is still within 'normal' range. Morning sickness, your doctor has assured them too many times to count, is very normal.
"Morning sickness, the nausea, vomiting, is all normal."
"She's sick multiple times a day." Simon grits out. Johnny shifts his weight nervously, while you sigh and pat his hand comfortingly.
"If we were seeing drastic weight loss, or the panels were coming back outside of normal range, I would be concerned. But that's not happening. So, you've nothing to worry about." You give her a relieved smile, and hope they'll actually listen this time, although you know it's kind of pointless. "So," she claps her hands, and then motions to the table, and Johnny visibly brightens. This is everyone's favorite part, the ultrasound. You always glue your eyes to the screen, holding you breath to see the baby, the little blob in black and grey, your own little bean. You're obsessed with the sound of the heartbeat, taking comfort in its strength, its steadiness. So much so you bought a fetal doppler, just so you could all hear it at home. "Should we take a peek?"
"I'm fine." you assure him, holding a hand out. "Help me up." He grips you by your elbow, pulling you to your feet and into him briefly, so he can nuzzle his nose into your hair with a deep breath. "Now get out, I'm gross. Need to wash my face." You insist, pushing both him and Johnny into the hallway playfully before closing the door.
You have a lot of drawers, in this bathroom. Almost all of them actually, and most of them are a bit of a mess, unorganized, things strewn about. Sometimes, like now, you have to dig around for things. You're looking for something specific, a heavier moisturizer, one that can combat some of the dryness around your nose. Your fingers flip through tubes and tubs and creams, old mascara and half busted hair clips. You tsk, irritated that you're having a hard time finding the blue jar, until-
Your fingers brush against your old birth control pack. Encased in a cream colored piece of plastic, little pills lined up in a row. Just the sight of it frustrates you. After so many years, it finally failed. Finally let you down.
You don't know, but you pull it out. Maybe to look at it closer, to see if it will be expired by the time you finally need it again, or maybe, just to look at the thing that was your one constant since you were practically a child.
Either way. You study it closer, and that's how you notice the corner of the pill tray. The little foil piece on the corner is lifted, just a smidge, just enough for you not to notice, but when you peel it, it comes away so easily, so perfectly, with minimal adhesive. Like's it been pulled away before and put back in place. Like it's been moved.
When you realize, the floor room spins. It shudders around you, bathroom walls curving closer and closer to where you stand in front of the sink, eyes wide, dumbfounded. They wouldn't. They wouldn't. Would they? You blink at yourself in the mirror. You look, tired, but mostly healthy, a true testament to absolute hovering that has been occurring in your life over the past five months. You never lift a finger, you don't want for anything.
Because you're pregnant.
Because you're pregnant, with their baby, that you thought you got knocked up with on accident.
Your stomach curdles. They did this on purpose. Your fingers clench against the stone of the sink while you remember, all those nights when they pressed you to the mattress and made you see stars, while they filled you with their come over and over, every day. They were actively trying. They wanted this. A giant black hole rips open inside of you. It sucks your joy, your happiness, your dreams of future into it immediately. It dismantles everything you thought you knew as truth, takes a hammer and smashes apart every single second of the last five months.
They took your choice away. You stomach flips, and the you’re flinging yourself back in front of the toilet, bile spewing on your lips while you dry heave. It burns, the sting matching the sear of the tears that track down your face.
How could they do this?
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euaphoric · 9 months
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lust.
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader, strangers to ??? (wtv they got going on in this dynamic)
✩‧₊˚ warnings — i was planning to make this way happier but i was in a sad mood so im sorry if it’s a little angsty? some fluff ig, sm*t, mentions of alcohol & smoking (cigs), dom!jk & sub!reader, hookup culture, slight corruption? oc cries a lot, spanking, ch*king, just a lot of freeky stuff, koo is a little mean in this oops
words: 3.2k // literally the longest thing i’ve wrote so far. also irdk what this is but i just kept going and couldn’t stop, kinda feels rushed toward the end cause i just wanted to get to the freaky parts sfsfjgs i’m sawry y’all
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it happened 2 years ago, yet the memories of that fateful day still carry on with you as if it were yesterday. vibrant recollections of those slender, jewelled hands clasped around your neck as you cry out for him, body subconsciously submitting to all of him - breaking every barrier you’ve built up within. of all your years of existence, that night was the only time you’ve felt truly alive, shedding every ounce of innocence away in one night for a man whose name you didn’t even know.
do you regret losing your virginity to someone who only saw you as a temporary plaything? partly yes and partly no. you were conflicted on the fact you never exchanged info after he left but other than that, nothing regrettable came out of it. the only issue was that he’s set your standards far into oblivion, you’ve yet to find a lay as memorable as he was. it’s not as though you haven’t tried getting over it in the past - you’ve been desperately wishing to forget. suppressing your inner desires with all kinds of self pleasure methods; even going so far as to banging other hot strangers you meet from the bars/club - but even then, you couldn’t replicate how you felt with him and you still couldn’t reach your climax without thinking of your first time.
you catch yourself daydreaming of him daily. the raspy tone of his voice, the intoxicating scent of expensive cologne, the fluorescent, animated ink that adorned his arm along with a silver pierced lip and eyebrow, his sublime sense of style. everything you could’ve ever wanted, slipped away from your grasp forever. that was, until you were met face to face with him again - a total of 882 days later (yes you did the math). you went bar hopping downtown with all your girl friends, looking for an eventful weekend. little did you know you’d be running into him again, the nameless man that gave you a night to remember. you were definitely the first to notice him, it felt quite peculiar but as soon as you walked in you got struck with a weird deja vu moment. it all felt so familiar to you, even down to the symphonic melodies of jazz music playing in the distance, everything brought you back to that gloomy autumn night.
you’d try your dearest not to stare but your mind was not complying with any rationality, one look at his broad physique and it was endgame for all your sanity. it didn’t help that your body went inert, lost in a trance of him indefinitely, wanting nothing more than to worship him and give in to his every need. you reminisce about him telling you how much of a good girl you were for taking all of it, sucking on his fingers as you completely come undone underneath him. he left you begging for more that night, crying and pleading for at least a goodbye kiss - which you never got the pleasure of getting. “i told you this was a one time thing only.. besides, i’m leaving the city tomorrow for good so you’ll probably never see me again. it’s for the best anyway.”
his cold last words left more than a lasting impression on you. it sent you into an endless spiral of overthinking, analyzing any and everything you could’ve done wrong. did that night really mean absolutely nothing to him at all? all the countless times you’d touch yourself to vivid recounts of his face pressed into your thigh, plastering wet kisses all over them and sucking on your bruised skin. he’d spank each thigh one by one as a punishment, proudly smirking at the way you’d wince out in pain mixed with so much pleasure. he thrived off the idea that he was the first to corrupt you like this, a girl he hasn’t even known for a span of 24 hours willing to give up just about anything she had to offer. had you shamelessly wrapped around his finger like an brainless puppet.
you still don’t understand how someone can look so divine, even when doing nothing but just standing. you watch as he sips Viognier out of an oversized wine glass, gazing at the crowd, ruffling his fingers through his hair from time to time. then it became unreal when you locked eyes with him, catching him stealing a glance when he realizes who you were. you look almost exactly the same as you did a few years ago, the only part that’s different about you now is the recent butterfly tattoo you got on your lower back. that’ll be a pleasant surprise for him to find out. his eyes never drifted once they landed on you, he was in just as much shock as you were - maybe more. he’d made an internal promise to himself to keep you as a forever one time fling - nothing more just that, but if fate wasn’t real then why would the universe send you back into each other’s lives?
no, not a romantic kind of fate. the fate you get when someone you’ve mindlessly lusted over for ages has finally found its way to you again. a fate that doesn’t occur by chance, or coincidence, it was pure destiny awaiting to happen.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
“wow, you haven’t changed at all have you?” he says nonchalantly, acting as if you were an old friend he was catching up with. you weren’t sure how to respond, the surrealism of the moment brought you everywhere but reality. all you really could do was blink, fluttering your lashes at his towering figure over you. though there was a sea of people in this packed, lively bar, it felt like only you two existed in this confined space. he tried striking up the usual basic conversation with the typical, how’re your studies going? work’s been treating you well? anything exciting happen in your life recently? you gave as much of a vague answer as you could, barely putting any thought or effort, you were only giving him the same treatment that he gave back then. he would often come off as bored or condescending at times, it felt good to take back just the little bit of power you upheld.
you quietly observe as he orders another drink, two actually, not even bothering to ask what you wanted. he hands you a glass with a salted rim, the clear liquid made you believe it was either vodka or tequila, either way you gulped it down in no time and squeeze the lime on the side as chaser. you didn’t have much to drink but his presence alone was already enough to make you feel tipsy. “i thought you said you were never coming back to the city?” you blurt out, instantly scolding yourself for bringing up the past this quickly. it was just the undying curiosity of wanting to know the inner depths of him, not the stonewall of a persona he portrays to be. “i don’t know, guess i just felt like visiting. also had some unfinished business to attend to.” there he goes again with those subtle answers, toying with you so easily. his responses have always annoyed you to a certain extent but this feels even more strange for some reason. what’s the “unfinished business” he’s referring to?
“so” he pauses, never actually finishing his thought. “so..” you awkwardly mimic, hoping he’ll spit out whatever the hell he has to say. it took some time before he clears his throat and takes a sip of what seemed like his fiftieth drink tonight. “soo, do you…maybe wanna get out of here?” you’re not sure what’s with the shy act suddenly, he wasn’t this timid when you first met him. it’s like you’re meeting a whole new person. “uhm, sure i guess” you spoke hesitantly, taking his hand as he reaches out for yours. bumping into loads of drunk people while he weaved you through the crowd, it felt like multiple eternities before you’ve found the exit. he lights a cigarette before heading down the vintage spiral staircase, still hand in hand with you. “goddamn… look at your fine ass. still just as sexy as i remember you last time mamas.” he gracefully compliments, walking slightly behind in attempts of getting better sight at the back view of the form fitting dress you wore. his hand left yours in favor of wrapping around your waist. “t-thanks.” you reply sheepishly, hoping that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are.
before getting in his car, there was one more thing you needed closure with, the one thing that constantly kept you up at night. “i don’t mean to be this straightforward but, i want to know your name. i know this probably sounds really lame and pathetic but it’s been eating me up inside since the day we met and… i just- i think i deserve the right to know is all.” you wanted to scream at your poor delivery, sounding nowhere near as confident as you did in your head. the cigarette was still tucked between his lips, taking another long drag before answering you. “damn, even after all this time i still occupy your mind sweetheart? that’s adorable,” he teases, reveling in on your confession. “but i suppose i can agree with you since i did keep you guessing for so long. it’s only fair you should know, right?” that sly little smirk never left his face, he knows exactly how to mess with you. “it’s jungkook. and you are?” ah, so he really does have a name. “y/n.” you mutter, looking down at the pavement. “that’s pretty, i like it. suits you well.” his hand raises yours to his lips, kissing it gently, “nice to formally meet you y/n.” your eyes dart at him reluctantly, hoping your palms weren’t too clammy. “you too, jungkook.” none of this still felt real to you, you wanted to pinch yourself and wake up immediately. “it’s kinda hot the way you say my name.” he casually admits, the grin on his face deepens, “that won’t be the only thing you’ll be screaming at the top of your lungs tonight though.”
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
this certainly wasn’t the first (or last) time you found yourself like this. getting severe brush burn from the carpet by being obediently on your knees, swiftly bobbing your head as tears stream down your face, ruining your precious mascara. the only audible sounds were his groans echoing in the room of this giant suite at the four seasons. it gave a sense of familiarity, and oddly enough you found comfort in being in such a compromised situation. especially with him again. “fuck, you’re so pretty,” he grunts, grabbing a fistful of hair, never taking his eyes off you. “look even prettier with my cock stuffed deep in your mouth.” his words sent chills, all you wanted to do was keep pleasing him. your mind goes hazy from the end of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, other than the tears, you showed no outright emotion—you had to endure this, you’ve been praying for this moment since your first ever encounter. big doe eyes look up at him innocently as you suck the soul out of him, all the shiny gloss you wore on your lips now completely transferred onto him - in this perspective, you were utterly perfect.
“shit- you’re so good at this..” he hisses, watching as you kneel beneath him, saliva glistening on your chin as you gag all over his cock. you do the best you can to fit all of him, you did learn from the best after all. you hum against him in response, feeling his cock twitch from the sudden vibrations. if you keep going like this he’s bound to cum for sure, but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction - he wants to have all the power and control. “get up.” he spat harshly, if you swirl your tongue around him like that one more time he feels as tho he’s about to combust. the choice of only taking him further in made him even angrier. “did you not fucking hear me? i said get. the. fuck. up.” he pulls your hair tighter to yank your head back, forcing a semi-loud *pop* with your lips as you detach from his cock, swallowing the string of drool from the corner of your mouth. silly you for keep going, you should’ve listened the first time. now your forever fantasy of getting to suck him dry and drink his cum has sadly been cut short... “since you’re so damn greedy for this cock why don’t you go stand up against that window while i fuck you, hm?” your face becomes mortified when you haven’t realized just how big those windows truly were. it took up a quarter of the living room and the curtains were never closed which you also failed to notice. you were at the top floor of this 52 story building but still, you were rightfully nervous out of your mind.
the next thing you knew, your body’s pressed up to the cold glass, his big hands caressing both sides of your waist and trailing kisses to the exposed skin on your back. you watch the faint reflection of him toying with the hem of your mini dress, slowly pulling it up then stopping when he gets to a certain point. “oh.. what’s this here?” he asks, glancing down at your butterfly tattoo, his fingertips lightly brushing over the fresh ink. “guess you aren’t so innocent as i thought you were.” you shook your head, biting your lip when he gropes your ass, “n-never was i-innocent.” you quietly mewl. “oh yeah?” he breaths warmly against your neck, hiking the dress up further. “then be a good little slut for me and don’t speak unless i tell you to.” the palm of his hand slaps your cheek hard enough to leave a visible print, pushing you up against the window more. you were enjoying every single minute of this, you were so elated that you could cry again. you feel his touch down lower, grazing over your folds to feel how wet you are. “shit, you’re already dripping like this just from sucking me off? always knew you were such a filthy whore.” two fingers slid into your heat with ease, pumping them in and out. “nngh~” you moan lowly, “shh, quiet for me doll. wait ‘til i fill you with my cock then you can scream all you want.” when he pulls them out his chest collides with your back, rubbing himself between your folds and bringing his drenched fingers up to your mouth. of course, you open eagerly to suck on his sleek digits, you remember doing this exact thing last time. history truly does repeat itself.
once he fully settles in, the clench of you around him makes his brain all fuzzy, you feel so warm and inviting, could stay like this forever. “fuck.. so fucking tight” he husks, firmly gripping at your waist before he begins moving. first he goes at a normal pace, stuffing you nice and slow with delicate kisses to your shoulders. he soon built up more momentum, thrusting in and out of your soaking cunt as bodies clash together. you arch your back more as he his cock hits your walls deeper, mumbling a bunch of gibberish as he fucks you completely dumb. “what’s that doll? i can’t hear you, speak the fuck up.” he orders sternly, producing another harsh, loud slap to your ass - never letting up on his stamina. “ughh f-fuck! you’re so b-big, feels sso goood.” you whine, feeling nothing but cockdumb at this point. “yeah? you like the way i stretch this pussy out? gonna cream all over my cock just like you did for me last time baby?” his strokes get rougher with each question. “yes…yes.. oh fuck- jungkook! jungkookk!” you chant over and over like you’re casting a spell, the ring of his name slips on your tongue smoother than the pungent liquor you drank earlier. “only i can fuck you as good as this right? have you acting this obedient and submissive? bet you were manifesting this shit all long, just can’t enough of my cock can you?” the questions just won’t stop, and the waterworks soon start up again, you’re not sure how much more you can endure.
“don’t even fucking answer, i already know anyway.” his cockiness really pissed you off but at least he had the evidence to back his arrogance up. his pace grew relentless as he watches himself disappear in you, still gawking over the pretty design of the butterfly. you felt so close - that same knot tied in your stomach like you felt before; you haven’t had this feeling since the very first time, as if only he was the one to unlock this level of passion out of you. “g-gonna cum s-soonn.” you alert him, tasting the faint bitter saltiness from your tears pooling down. a pair of strong hands connect around your neck, wrapping tightly as he rams in harder, making your whole body tremble and shake. “go ahead, do it.” jungkook encourages supportively, “cum with me doll face.” those words were all you needed to hear to let go, screaming out his name and a slew of more curses. you feel your release drip down your leg, mind completely blank from the buzz taking over you. he quickly pulls out, dumping all his white seed onto your back as you whine from being empty again. you could honestly go for another round if he asked you to right now. it was fun while it lasted though, looking over at the skyline view while getting your back blown out - seemed like a literal dream come true.
the aftermath was quiet, you didn’t say much and neither did he, you reverted right back to your shy demeanor. when you cleaned up yourself in the bathroom you grabbed your purse to rummage for your house keys but he stops you mid action. “where’re you going?” that only confuses you more, where else would you be going? “uh, home?” you meekly respond, unsure of his real intentions. “don’t be like that, you can stay the night here.” he suggests, “my plane leaves in the morning though but you can sleep here for as long as you’d like, i’ll book this room for an extra day.” it was sweet of him to do that for you, it was the least he could do to mellow your sorrows. you were hoping to be with him for a bit longer but what were you expecting really? he’s just someone who comes and goes, taking everything you had to give, just to leave you high and dry all over again. “come here.” jungkook directs assertively, patting his thigh for you to sit on his lap, you waste no time in propping yourself onto him. “don’t be sad doll, cheer up. we’ll meet again sometime yeah?” you nod, feeling so hopeless and broken inside, he’s only saying this because he probably just wants to fuck again. that’s all you are to him, a fucktoy and nothing more. even though he sees you in that light, it still makes you feel validated in some twisted kind of way. at least right now you have all of his attention, it may just be momentarily but it felt so good. one thing was definitely made clear by him though - he was deeply, undeniably, in pure lust with you.
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